Suguru loves giving her sweet assistant special treatment! Be it wearing mini skirts barely brushing her ass or fucking her on a CEO's desk after a long, tiring day!
requested by fair anon
˖𑁤 ݁˖ pairing: Ceo fem!Suguru x Assistant!Reader
˖𑁤 ݁˖ content/warnings: ꒰ MDNI 18+ :: wlw :: office romance :: age gap (reader in early 20s, Suguru in early 30s) :: mentions of femjo (ofc, my wifey) :: mature women :: dominant Suguru :: reader is such a minx :: flirting :: fluff :: smut :: oral sex :: use of strap-on :: reader calls her mommy :: tit sucking :: office sex :: 2.2k words ꒱
˖𑁤 ݁˖ notes: Oh, fem boss Suguru, the things I would do for you...
divider by @uzmacchiato
art by @/sugurusboobs on X
Everyone in the office knew your CEO was hot. Dominant, sharp-tongued, always spreading an air around herself that squeezed the throats of her workers.
Some believe that having a female boss is much better than having a male one, but Suguru proved them wrong every day. The most successful woman in Japan, leading the fashion industry with her brilliant projects that reached global markets, the "ruthless matriarch" as some liked to call her.
And whenever she entered the office, the atmosphere always seemed to shift slightly. Her employees looked up at her tall figure as she hurried down the corridors. Black, silky hair brushed her waist, a tight shirt clung to her heavy breasts, and hips swayed in gentle waves beneath the tight-fitting trousers. She was tall, yet there was never a day she didn't wear heels, always looming like a ghastly figure over the male employees.
Having neither a husband nor children, she stayed in the office day and night, working her ass off just to keep the number-one spot in global markets. Her Forbes Under 30, Best Fashion Designer Award, and Top Ten Richest Women in the world.
Some might say she was a pretty good boss. Kind and polite, though slightly cold in demeanour. Staying overtime wasn't that bad when she paid her employees three times the hourly rate and ensured they all worked efficiently.
Everyone knew that as long as she didn't pay much attention to you, life was good. Great, even. Everyone truly wanted to keep minimal contact with their boss, who reminded them of a praying mantis rather than a woman.
No one wished to look into her squinted, almond-shaped eyes and be drawn into the heaviness of her lavender gaze. No one wished to land in her office, only to receive the harsh scolding that pushed tears into her employees' eyes.
No one, and truly no one, knew... how you did that.
Get on her sweet, caring side, that is.
The young assistant who joined the company only a few months ago suddenly became the centre of her attention.
Your first day at a company would be treated as a total failure by most of your coworkers. With a miniskirt wrapped around your hips, its hem barely brushing your middle thighs, and a red bra showing through the white shirt. Long socks covered your legs up to the knees, giving your thighs a little squish.
You... didn't look bad. But also did not look corporate-like.
When Utahime saw you, she almost had a heart attack. Shoko, the menager, told you to send a prayer.
"Boss pays close attention to proper attire," she said, tugging at your skirt. "So I wish you good luck."
And thus, on the first day, after getting accustomed to your teammates and managers, you finally went to the lion's den.
The nicely manicured hand knocked on the milky-glassed door, and when a low come in, slipped from the room, you pushed the handle with a squeezed throat.
And then... you saw her.
Your knees nearly buckled, heart fluttered with warmth filling your chest, and mind suddenly went blank.
As the woman who sat behind the desk must have truly been a descendant of a Goddess herself. Lavender eyes traced your body, dark locks smooched her cheeks and lips, crimson red, curving into a little smile.
The white shirt was tight around her chest, and a single thin necklace nestled between her plush breasts. Long cherry nails tapped on the desk, filling the silent room.
"Close the door, sweets," she said, taking in the sudden warmth that hit your cheeks.
With a shy oh, you pushed the heavy glass, separating you two from the commotion and whispers outside. Her office was mostly made of glass walls, but the milkiness of their structure allowed for a bit of privacy.
On the one side, it certainly was good.
But on the other hand, you felt ashamed of the wetness beginning to pool in your panties. The heat bubbling in your stomach, fingers fiddling with the edge of your skirt, and only now did you realise how truly short it was.
"Good morning boss, I'm your n-new assistant," fuck, of course your voice failed you when it shouldn't!
Suguru hummed, finally standing up. Long legs, wrapped in loose trousers, moved in front of the desk before she leaned against its edge, head tilted.
Your figure didn't escape the heavy gaze for even a second, and so you wriggled awkwardly in place, trying to cover your naked thighs with miserable attempts.
"Come a bit closer, I don't bite," she chuckled, and the smoothest melody curled around your ears.
You walked towards her, cheeks burning and eyes unable to look away as her plump thighs spread when she sat on a desk. Thick and meaty, you wished to bite into them with a delicious moan, before slipping up to–oh dearst heavens!
You shouldn't have such nasty thoughts about your boss!
With fingers lightly pinching your thighs, just to wake yourself up for the delirious, lustful dream, you finally stood in front of her.
The sweet fragrance of her perfume tickled your nose, and a devil perched on your arm whispered minx-like temptations to lean in and lick the sweetness of her milky neck.
Oh, perhaps you should consider resigning immediately.
"So you're my new assistant, hm?" she asked, noticing the red lace bra peeking through your shirt.
"I am, boss." You noticed her gaze and mentally slapped yourself. You may or may not have forgotten to do the laundry. "I'm s-sorry, I'll work on my attire. It's just that this morning–"
But Suguru just giggled, reaching for your skirt and tugging at the hem. As her fingers brushed your thighs, you were grateful for the extra pair of panties in your bag, since the ones you wore were too soaked to last the day.
"It's okay, sweets. Your attire is perfectly fine," she said, lavender eyes mingling like little stars.
Your lips parted, and you were nearly certain she could hear the rapid beat of your heart. Pounding as if it were about to cause a cardiac arrest any second.
"Oh," slipped quietly, as your gazes crossed. "Manager Shoko said–"
"It doesn't matter what she said. I like your skirt," and before you could respond, she straightened up, towering at least a head taller. "You can get back to work now. I'll call if I need anything."
And thus, since that day, Suguru, for the first time, seemed to be bewitched.
Maybe it was the loveliness of your face, or maybe the way your soft voice wrapped around her senses in the most pleasurable way.
The employees soon noticed the special treatment she seemed to shower you with – your favourite coffee waiting on your desk each morning, a pair of new heels under your desk since you broke the other pair the other day, and a workload much lighter than your teammates'.
Your desk was placed right next to Suguru's office, yet still within the shared area. As a result, people who had always taken the utmost pleasure in not seeing the boss for a whole day now seemed to walk on eggshells.
As Suguru slipped from her office much more often than she used to. Only to come to your desk and have a little, lovely chitchat as if nothing in this world mattered more than hearing your chipper at least five times a day.
Sometimes she would invite you to lunch, and other times she shooed away Satoru, whose crystal gaze quickly noticed the new sweet assistant. Her closest, most irritating friend, who took a special pleasure in flirting with you in the nastiest, cheeks-heating ways.
And when you got more comfortable, noticing that Suguru seemed as interested in you as you were in her... the big flirtation war had started.
You – bending in front of her desk, because, oh, boss, it seems you dropped a pen! Miniskirt lifting up to show your red laced panties with a little wet spot right on your pussy.
Her – flushing cherry red, wriggling on the leather chair in an uncomfortable manner, and throwing another pen right in front of her eyes.
You – coming to her with each silly problem, just to chirp foolishly like a sweet birdie and look at her with round, doe eyes.
Her – coming to your desk and bending over, until the heavy breasts pressed against your arm and lips were mere millimetres from your heated ear.
You – flirting back with Satoru, biting your lip with a giggle.
Her – inviting you to her office after hours, only to fuck you like a madwoman with a long, pinkish strapon.
Your ass red from all the gentle slaps, tits pressed to her desk, and tears rolling down your cheeks whenever the round her smooched your cervix.
She would lean in and lick a long stripe up your spine, just to leave crimson kisses across your heated skin.
"Do you like to see me jealous, sweets?" Her voice curled around your earlobe as she shoved the silicone toy up to your belly.
Nothing but wet squelches and your moans filled her dark office as you tried to keep yourself steady on her desk. With fingers gripping the edge and hips rolling back, just to meet her every brutal thrust.
"Mmm," a cry fell past your lips, as her fingers slipped down your hips and flickered over your swollen clit. "B-Boss, I–ahhh–I'm s-sorry!"
She chuckled, rolling the hardener bud between her fingers. "Are you? It seemed you enjoyed yourself quite a lot."
With a single move, she rolled you over. Back pressed to the desk, thighs glued to the chest, till she pushed you into a mean, mating press.
"No, I–fuck–I didn't," another cry rolled as she pushed the dildo even deeper.
Till her hips met yours and tight cunt moulded under the thick, drenched toy. The sight of her full hips and jiggling breasts made your head spin. Saliva trickled down your chin, and she brushed it away with a low giggle.
"So you think my eyes are lying?" She leaned in until her heavy breasts pressed against yours. "Tell me, sweetie, do you think your boss is lying? Or maybe you just want to get fucked stupid in front of Satoru, hm? I think she would be quite happy–ah!"
A low, satin moan slipped past her lips as your fingers rolled her nipples, giving them a gentle squeeze. She looked utterly beautiful, bewitching, with crimson lipstick smeared on her cheek and a little heart twinkling behind her eyes.
Her pace was maddeningly ruthless, pumping you full with a thick cock and melting you beneath her fingers. She soon cut her three nails short, only to have a better time with your always drenched cunt.
As when she wasn't fucking you mad with a silicone cock – she had your spread on her office sofa.
With you sucking on her breasts and her pumping all three digits deep into your swollen pussy. Raven hair stuck to her flushed cheeks, and her teeth bit down on lower lip whenever you moaned around her hardened bud.
"Mommy–mmm–you taste so fucking good," a whimper hit her sensitive breasts as you slurped at the heaviness of her breasts.
The fat was spilling from between your fingers, sweet buds deep in your throat, as she bent her fingers to hit your sweet spot.
"Am I?" she asked, brushing a loose strand of your hair with another hand. "You would love to drink mommy's milk, wouldn't you?"
A quick nod shook your head as you allowed your face to get squished between her breasts. "Mhm, I wish you would get pregnant so I could suck on your tits every single day."
You soon left her breasts, only to go down, and down, tracing wet kisses across her belly, hips, till finally folding her legs to bury yourself in the sweetness of her cunt.
Nothing turned you on more than seeing her always so serious face twisted in pleasure, as you drank the hefty juices dripping down your throat. Your lips wrapped around her swollen clit, and two fingers slipped inside to feel the warm walls clench around your digits.
You loved feeling her thick thighs wrap around your head – pulling you closer, cutting off the air until you could breathe and eat nothing but the creaminess of her pussy. She tasted oh so heavenly, making your own cunt drench on the sofa and thighs clench in painful need.
"Mhm, sweets, you're doing so well," she purred, brushing your hair. "My cute little assistant."
You looked up to her with teary eyes, brows furrowed in pleasure. "Do you feel good, mommy?"
Your lips sucked on her clit, and she bent into a delicious arc. "So good, fuck, come on sweetie, make me cum."
You nodded, pumping your fingers faster, meaner. Hitting her spot with every bent, slurping on the clit till her walls finally clenched hard around your digits and sweet ambrosia gushed down your throat.
You drank everything she gave you. With crossed eyes and juices dripping down your chin, overstimulating her pussy with a maddening pumping.
Till she finally needed to rip you away and pull closer, only to close your lips in a messy, drenched kiss. With plush lips smooching yours and a heavy fragrance wrapping around your senses.
As she tugged at your hair to pull you back, only a silver thread connected your swollen lips.
"Am I a g-good assistant?" you cried, feeling her thumb brush your heated cheek.
A sly smile tugged on her lips as he tilted her head. "Of course, sweetie. A fucking employee of the month."
Ak! Jason who fucks your throat whenever you talk back too much to him.
You were a fucking brat, always giving him some type of smart ass remark knowing he wasn't one to be disrespected. Even though you were "immune" to this rule he still had his limits. Giving a slick comment to him in front of his men got your hair wrapped around his hand and dragged to another room. Pushing him when he was upset was never a good idea, but now he was beyond just mad.
Jason had you sat in front of him, collar on your throat, just tight enough where he could barely slip a finger under it. Tears were filling your eyes, begging to pour out with every harsh thrust. Drool covered your lips, any makeup you had on now smudged.
"Don't start that crying shit now. Y' know the damn rules. Wanna act like you're stupid? Then I'm gonna make sure you remember your god damn manners."
Every time you tried to pull back you were just pushed back down. His dick bobbed along your tongue, heavy and thick. The furiousness of his thrust matched just how pissed off you made him with your little act. Your knees began to ache, thighs burning from being forced to sit up. With each act of trying to hold his thighs you were only met with a slap to the cheek.
"Breathe through your nose, because I'm not letting up."
you didn’t set out to homewreck their relationship on both ends, really. if anyone were to ask you, it was a stroke of fate—you’d just happened across the both of them. suguru, who approached you at a bar and bribed you to the back with a drink. who brought you to the perfect line between drunk and tipsy, giggling endlessly and listing into his side, unable to hold yourself up fully. who took off his wedding ring and placed it on the nightstand before taking you to bed. who took you apart with the skill of a man with years of experience.
years he had; after all, you woke up the next morning to his phone buzzing, a call from ‘love’ blaring at you from the screen.
he winks at you as he leaves, securing a teasing promise that you won’t tell anyone. you don’t. instead, you smear a kiss at his collar. you ask to see him again, and when you do, you make a game out of trying to leave evidence behind—when suguru pulls you back by the hair, making filthy promises to fuck you in his husband’s bed, you moan and scratch your way down his back. when he ties you up, calling you his pretty little dove, you pull the skin of his neck into your mouth and suck until it bruises. when he gags you, telling you to be good, you whine and cry and hook your ankles around his hips, hoping this time it takes.
and when he finally, finally takes you home, fucking you on his bed like he promised, you just so happen to accidentally leave your g-string behind.
a week later, you see satoru while scrolling on hinge. older, beautiful, and clearly suguru’s husband. you’d seen him enough, stared down his picture while his husband fucked you in his bedroom. you’d imagined his face. daydreamed about the possibility of him walking in, of him watching you take his husband down your throat as he moaned your name.
this, you think, is better.
you match. of course you do. you start talking, you play it sweet, you act completely clueless. you have phone sex with him before suguru picks you up for another date. suguru takes you to bed, and you comfort him when he texts you about how his ‘roommate’ is taking a while to get home. when you finally meet, he doesn’t even bother to hide his wedding ring. suguru never does, either.
satoru fucks you angry. he keeps your hands clasped in one palm as he takes you from behind, panting heavily in your ear. when you turn your head to moan, he growls low in his throat and shoves your face into the pillow, smothering your whines. he makes you cry. fucks you until he’s done, uncaring of the way you writhe against him as it borders too much.
and when it’s done, he sits there, not even looking at you. he stares down at his hands, palms up, wedding ring still on. you run a hand down his thigh, lean into his side, and ask what’s wrong.
“i think my husband is cheating on me,” he tells you hoarsely.
you coo, bringing his head into the crook of your bruised neck. you run a hand down his spine, stroking your thumb back and forth. you press a kiss into his white hair. “it’s okay,” you murmur. “it’s okay. he’s not—he couldn’t be. who’d be willing to give you up?”
he texts you again a week later. you visit suguru at work, suck him off under his desk, then wipe your mouth and meet up with satoru for lunch.
⟡ ݁˖ cw. Mechanic!Toji :: pussy job + fingering :: p in v :: c-pied :: call's you 'slut' once (m' sorry) ::
The garage smelled like motor oil, burnt rubber, and the faint metallic tang of tools that had seen too many long days. Toji Fushiguro wiped the grease from his hands with an old rag, shoulders aching from another twelve-hour shift under hoods and chassis. His black tank top clung to his sweat-slicked chest, muscles flexing as he tossed the rag aside and looked up at the familiar sleek black car that had just rolled into his bay.
You.
Of course it was you again.
The little prissy princess who showed up every other week with some new complaint about her luxury ride. Today the issue was supposedly a weird rattle in the engine, but Toji knew better. You barely drove the damn thing hard enough to cause any real problems. The third time you were back here for this month, and every single visit ended the same way: you batting those lashes, complaining about the bill, and offering to “trade” for the work instead of paying in cash like a normal customer.
He was tired of it. Tired of the games. Tired of pretending he didn’t notice how you dressed just to tease him, short designer skirts that rode up when you leaned over the hood, tight tops that hugged your pretty tits, expensive perfume that cut through the garage stink like it didn’t belong.
You stepped out of the car in those ridiculous heels, hips swaying as you approached him with that signature pout already on your glossy lips.
“Toji, it’s doing that annoying sound again,” you complained, voice sweet and spoiled. “You have to fix it today. I have places to be.”
He stared at you for a long moment, green eyes narrowed, scarred lip twitching. The sun was setting outside, casting long shadows through the open bay doors, and the garage was empty except for the two of you. Just perfect.
“Yeah? And how you plannin’ on payin’ this time, princess?” he asked, voice low and rough from the long day. “Cash? Or you gonna try tradin’ somethin’ else again like last time?”
You tilted your head, giving him that innocent little smile that never reached your eyes. “I thought we had an arrangement…”
Toji tossed the rag onto his workbench and stepped closer, towering over you. The height difference was ridiculous, his broad, grease-stained frame making you look even smaller and more delicate in your expensive little outfit.
“I’m done with the arrangements, doll,” he said flatly. “You been comin’ in here week after week, flashin’ those pretty legs and expectin’ me to eat the cost every time. I ain’t runnin’ a charity.”
Your pout deepened, but there was a spark of something else in your eyes. Challenge, and growing heat, then you crossed your arms under your chest, deliberately pushing your tits up. “Then what do you want, Toji? Name your price.”
He looked you up and down slowly, taking in the short skirt, the way it barely covered the curve of your ass, the expensive stockings hugging your thighs. His cock twitched in his work pants, he had no more shame left today.
“I want you to sit that spoiled little ass of yours, down on the hood of your car,” he said, voice dropping into a dangerous growl. “And I want to eat that prissy pussy until you’re cryin’ and beggin’ me to stop. That’s my price. Take it or pay the full bill in cash right now.”
Your eyes widened, lips parting in genuine surprise. For once you were speechless. Toji smirked, stepping even closer until you had to tilt your head back to look up at him.
“What’s wrong, princess? Cat got your tongue?” he taunted softly. “You been teasin’ me for months. Time to put your money where your mouth is… or rather, put that pretty cunt where my mouth is.”
He didn’t wait for you to answer. His big, calloused hands grabbed your waist and lifted you effortlessly onto the hood of your expensive car. The metal was still warm from the engine. You gasped as he pushed your thighs apart, short skirt riding up to reveal lacy panties that were already damp.
Toji dropped to his knees right there on the dirty garage floor, not giving a single fuck about the grease or the hard concrete. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties and dragged them down your legs, tossing them aside like they were nothing.
“Fuck… look at this spoiled little cunt,” he murmured, spreading your thighs wider with his rough palms. “All pretty and pink and already drippin’ for me. Been actin’ like such a prissy bitch but your pussy knows exactly what it wants.”
He leaned in and dragged his tongue slowly up your slit, groaning at the taste of you. Sweet and slick and so fucking wet. You whimpered, hands flying to his dark hair as he licked you again, slower this time, savoring every inch of your glossy folds.
Toji ate pussy like a man who had been starving for it. No shame, no hesitation. His scarred lips wrapped around your clit and sucked gently while his thick tongue flicked over the sensitive bud. Then he pushed his tongue inside your tight hole, fucking it in and out with wet, tangible sounds that echoed in the empty garage.
You moaned loudly, back arching on the hood as he devoured you. His big hands kept your thighs spread wide, thumbs digging into the soft flesh while he licked and sucked and kissed your cunt like it was the only thing that mattered in the world.
“Shit… you taste even better than I imagined, princess,” he growled against your pussy, voice muffled. “All sweet and spoiled. Been thinkin’ about buryin’ my face between these thighs every time you came in here whinin’ about your car.”
He sucked your clit harder, tongue swirling in fast circles around it until your legs started to shake. One thick finger pushed inside your tight heat, curling up to rub that spongy spot that made you see stars. Then another finger joined, stretching you open while he continued to lap at your clit, in broad licks.
Your hips bucked against his face, moans growing louder and more desperate. Toji didn’t let up, instead he fucked you with his fingers and tongue in perfect rhythm, sucking and licking until your pussy was creaming all over his mouth and chin.
You came hard on his tongue, crying out his name as your walls clenched around his fingers and fresh slick gushed onto his face. Toji groaned in satisfaction, drinking every drop like a man dying of thirst, lapping you clean while you trembled through the aftershocks.
But he wasn’t done.
He stood up, towering over you again, his cock straining painfully against his work pants. Grease still streaked his arms and chest, but he didn’t care. He yanked his belt open and shoved his pants down just enough to free his thick, heavy cock, it slapped up against his stomach, fat and veiny and already leaking precum.
“Turn over, princess,” he ordered, voice rough. “Hands up on the hood. I’m not finished collectin’ payment yet.”
You obeyed on shaky legs, turning around and bracing your hands on the warm hood as he pushed your skirt up around your waist. Toji gripped your hips hard and rubbed the blunt head of his cock through your soaked folds, coating himself in your cream.
“Gonna fuck your spoiled little cunt now,” he growled, pushing the fat tip inside your still fluttering hole. “Gonna stretch you wide open and fill you up until you understand who’s really in charge here.”
He sank into you in one slow, deep thrust, burying every inch until his hips were flush against your ass. You moaned loudly at the stretch, pussy clenching greedily around his thick length. Toji groaned, head falling back for a moment as he savored how tight and wet you felt wrapped around him.
Then he started fucking you properly.
Hard.. and deep, possessive strokes that made your tits bounce and your heels scrape against the concrete floor. The car rocked slightly under the force of his thrusts, the wet slap of skin on skin mixing with your desperate moans and his low grunts.
“Fuck… y'er pussy's so tight, doll” he rasped, one hand sliding up your back to tangled in your hair and then his grip tightened on your curly locks. “Been teasin’ me for months and now you’re takin’ my cock like you were made for it, hah- such er' good little slut when you finally shut up and take it.”
Toji fucked you harder now, hips snapping forward, cock bullying its way against your cervix with every thrust. His free hand reached around to rub your clit in quick circles, pushing you toward another orgasm while he chased his own.
You came again with a broken mewl, pussy spasming violently around his cock as fresh cream coated his shaft. Toji growled and slammed into you a few more times before he buried himself deep and came hard, flooding your cunt with thick, hot ropes of cum.
He stayed inside you for a long moment, breathing heavy, cock twitching as he pumped the last drops into your pretty and utterly loved pussy.
When he finally pulled out, a thick glob of his cum leaked from your stretched hole and dripped down your thighs and onto the hood of your car, Toji smirked, slapping your ass lightly, as much as he wanted to leave his cum on there as a little decoration to your plain af paint job- his better judgement took hold and he wiped it off with his grease rag a moment later.
“Car’s fixed, princess,” he said, voice lazy brimming with satisfaction. “Next time you come in here with another fake problem, I’m bendin’ you over the workbench instead. And you’re gonna pay up front… with y'er pretty pretty cunt.”
You turned around on shaky legs, face flushed and eyes glassy, looking thoroughly fucked and far less prissy than when you'd first walked in.
Toji pulled his pants back up and tossed you your panties with a smug grin.
“Now get outta here before I decide I want seconds. Unless you wanna trade for an oil change too…”
He watched you drive away on still-trembling legs, already knowing you definitely would be back sooner than later.
And the next time? He wouldn’t be so patient about collecting payment.
Back from college and staying with your dad in his shitty apartment complex, the older man... your neighbor next door has been noticing you, just as you have?
ಇ.content & warnings: porn with no plot :: non canon au :: reader is implied to be thicc :: age gaps - (reader is 19-20, Toji is in his Mid 30s) :: older neighbour trope :: touching through clothes :: kissing :: oral f.rec :: pussyjobs :: multi-gasms :: p in v :: spitting :: different sex positions? :: anal play - (thumb) :: c-pied :: description's of sex and anatomy was meant to be more on the 'graphic side' ::
The back porch of apartment 07 was nothing special — just cracked concrete painted a faded green years ago, a single wobbly plastic chair, and a rusted railing that overlooked the narrow strip of shared yard nobody ever used. Summer heat clung to everything like wet cotton, thick and slow even now that the sun had dipped low enough to turn the sky bruised purple.
You’d been inside all day, scrolling on your phone until your eyes ached, hoodie zipped halfway over a thin tank top because the AC was barely spitting cool air anymore. Shorts riding up high on your thighs, the soft cotton clinging where sweat had gathered at the crease of your hips.
Ninety degrees and no breeze, so you finally gave up and dragged yourself outside to sprawl on the single step, legs stretched long, bare feet dangling over the edge.
That’s when you saw him.
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 murmurs. Voice softer than you expect. 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 brushes 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 between your thighs so fast your vision blurs and you can feel yourself leaking now, slow, syrupy slick soaking through your cotton panties, darkening the crotch of your shorts in an obvious little patch. His eyes drops to it immediately.
“Fuck,” he breathes, almost laboured. “Look at that. Sweet little pussy already cryin’ for me and I haven’t even touched you yet.”
You whimper 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 cotton 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 cum 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 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.
Shaking, your 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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
“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 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.
ᝰ.ᐟ your soft bf!toji is a total meanie in bed ⸝⸝ 18+ mdni
mean bf!toji spends the whole day being a total sweetheart—cooking you dinner, giving you soft kisses on the forehead, and holding your hand in public—only to completely lock the bedroom door, pin your wrists over your head, and look down at you with a dark, heavy stare that tells you the "nice guy" act is officially over for the night.
mean bf!toji is normally so gentle with his hands during the day, using his thumb to softly wipe a stray crumb off your face or tuck your hair behind your ear, but the second he gets you on the bed, those same hands are gripping your jaw tightly, forcing you to tilt your head up so he can admire how pretty you look when you're scared of him.
mean bf!toji loves to pamper you in public, happily carrying all the heavy grocery bags, pulling you to the safe side of the sidewalk, and letting you pick whatever movie you want to watch, all while secretly plotting exactly how he's going to make you cry and beg for mercy later that evening.
mean bf!toji is so hyper-aware of the contrast in his behavior that he uses it to mess with your head; he’ll lean down while you're trembling under him and whisper against your ear, “you like it better when i’m mean to you, don’t you?”
mean bf!toji ignores your whines and protests when he changes positions or pulls you around like a ragdoll. in daily life, he moves carefully around you so he doesn't accidentally hurt you, but in bed, he uses his massive size and weight to completely overwhelm you, letting you feel exactly how helpless you are against him.
mean bf!toji makes you beg for every single thing. even if he knows you're desperate, he will completely stop moving, prop himself up on his elbows, and stare at you with a smug smirk until you verbally ask for exactly what you want.
mean bf!toji loves slapping your pussy with his palm right before going in, loving the sharp, loud crack it makes against your skin and the way it leaves a bright pink mark that contrasts with his tanned hands. he’ll do it just to startle a loud gasp out of you, watching your thighs twitch as he tells you to open up wider.
mean bf!toji likes dragging the heavy, blunt tip of his cock up and down your wet slit, teasing you ruthlessly until you're begging him to just put it in. instead of giving in, he’ll slap his wet tip against your clit over and over, mocking the needy little noises you make and telling you that you haven't earned it yet.
mean bf!toji just laughs when you try to complain that he’s being too rough or too mean. he won't slow down; instead, his chest rumbles against your back as he grips your hips harder, driving into you with even less mercy just to prove that he rules the bed.
mean bf!toji loves leaving you completely ruined and breathless. he likes looking down at the mess he made of you—smudged makeup, tangled hair, and thighs shaking uncontrollably—while he casually rolls off to grab a drink, completely unfazed while you can barely move.
mean bf!toji will pull your hair back with just enough force to make your eyes water, forcing you to look directly at him while he pounds into you. he hates when you try to hide your face in the pillows or close your eyes; he wants to see every single expression of pleasure and overload on your face.
mean bf!toji uses verbal degradation as a tool to keep you completely flustered. he’ll call you a "good little slut," mock how loud you're breathing, or ask you why you're crying over a little bit of fun, his voice deep, raspy, and completely devoid of the warmth he usually speaks to you with.
mean bf!toji will deliberately overstimulate you, rubbing his thumb harshly against your clit while hammering into you, and when you start to sob because it's too much, he’ll just kiss you hard to muffle your screams and keep going right through your orgasm.
mean bf!toji flips the switch right back to being a doting boyfriend the next morning. he’ll kiss your bruised hips, bring you painkillers and breakfast in bed, and pull you into a warm, gentle cuddle—leaving you completely dizzy over how the man who was so beautifully cruel to you a few hours ago is now softly rubbing your back and calling you his baby.
𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬◞﹒୧ . Eren, Ony and Connie have a crush on the same woman: the cute, sweet and autistic girl always dressed in pink who works in the restaurant next to their university. Eren loves you because you're so soft when he's so rough, Only loves you because you're always so polite with him, Connie loves you because he has a thing for chubby women like you. You’re always so shy with them, you have no idea to what extent they want to ruin you. When at a college party they find you crying because your boyfriend Jean cheated on you, they offer you revenge with them. You’re a good girl who has never done anything too freaky with anyone so you don’t really know how to handle three dicks inside you. But don’t worry, they will take good care of you. And show you that you can be loved exactly as you are.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬◞﹒୧ . 10.3k words, black!fem!reader, plus!size!reader, college au, hyper feminine autistic reader w/ social anxiety, hispanic!connie, plug!eren, basketball!player!ony, pervert stuff & stalking, polyamory, romance, affection, reassurance, male friendships, connie calls you ‘mami’ and ‘princesa’, ‘sweetheart/baby/bitch’ by eren, ‘baby/love/mama’ by ony, hard!dom!eren, soft!dom!ony, submissive!connie, gay ass stuff between the boys, mild daddy kink with eren, nipple play, fingering, cunnilingus, masturbation, choking, blowjob, handjob, vaginal sex, rough sex, gentle sex, shower sex, standing sex, somno, double penetration, consensual recording, hair pulling, overstimulation, cumming on face, crying from pleasure, titty fucking, slapping, dumbification but on a man !
𝐤𝐫𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐥'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬◞﹒୧ . finally a new fic since january!!!! very SCARED of your reactions because my characterization of the boys isn't that popular so i hope yall will like it <333
˚₊‧꒰ა 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 : 𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧 + 𝐨𝐧𝐲 + 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
‘Kiss of Life’ by Sade was playing in the restaurant, making you hum along as you cleaned the tables left by the last customers. Nearby, Eren, Ony, and Connie were watching you intently, as usual.
“Shazam that song, she seems to like it,” Eren ordered Connie, nudging him.
Connie lazily looked up from his phone to look at his best friend. “It's Sade. You have no memory, 'Ren. She always hums when one of their songs, come on.”
He still used Shazam to find out the exact name of the song and added it to the ‘sweet baby’ playlist that he, Eren, and Ony had created to catalog all your favorite songs.
“She's wearing a new dress,” Ony noticed. The three boys' eyes ran over your body.
You were wearing a new dress that you had bought the day before. It hugged your chubby body perfectly, stopping halfway up your thick thighs. The pale pink fabric brought out the luminous glow of your brown skin. Made of satin and molding to your curves in the most exquisite way, with thin straps that barely supported your breasts, the ribbon bow at the center of your chest made your sexy outfit cute. Your long braids was tied in a low bun held by a ribbon bow at the back, leaving your pretty round face uncovered. Your eyelids were enhanced with glittery pink eyeshadow, your long false eyelashes made your gaze so seductive, and your lips were glossy, looking so delicious. A literal angel. Eren, Ony, and Connie would eat you up if they could.
Eren adjusted his bulge in his black sweatpants and tried to look away so as not to worsen his erection by staring at you, while Connie and Ony were still staring, completely unashamed of looking like creeps. Your Mary Jane heels clicked on the floor as you walked around the restaurant taking orders from your little notebook, and when you arrived at the three men's table, your eyes lit up, happy to see them.
They were your favorite customers. They'd been coming to eat at the restaurant three times a week for at least a year. You didn't know how they'd managed to always be there during your shifts—Connie had threatened your boss to give him your work schedule—but it was always a pleasure to see them. They always complimented you and were so sweet to you, nothing like the old men who had wives and looked at you with lust in their eyes.
The most intimidating one was Eren. He was always dressed in black with a hood over his head that hid his face, but you could glimpse his neck tattoos peeking out from under his hoodie. His eyes were always hald-lidded and red from weed, staring intensely into your soul when you took his order, sending shivers down your spine. He was known as the university's plug; you'd never used his services, but his deep voice spoke to you so sweetly that you considered buying from him so he could talk to you privately.
The friendliest was Ony. Compared to Eren's dark appearance, Ony exuded light. You would have to be a psychoapth to not to like Ony's intelligence and kindness. He loved fashion and taking care of himself, you both always talked about skincare and clothes. He played basketball on your university team, making him the most popular of the trio. You loved learning about his sport, and hear the passion in his voice when he talked about Lamelo Ball. He was a bit of a star on campus but was the least arrogant man you'd ever met, always smiling softly when you talked to him, making you feel so safe and care for.
The most flirtatious was Connie. You could never look him in the eye when he called you ‘princesa’, joking about how you were the prettiest girl he'd ever seen. You never knew if he called you ‘mami’ just because it was normal for latino men, or if he was actually trying to flirt with you. Like Eren, he often wore his hood up, hiding his eyebrow piercings, but he wasn't as intimidating. He always had a teasing glint in his eyes that made you flutter.
“Hey,” you said shyly, approaching their table.
As always, Eren was stoned out, his pupils dilated as he looked at you, making your spine tingle. Ony’s lips curved into a smile, clenching his tattooed hand to bump his fists against yours.
You didn’t have any friends because of your social anxiety, only Jean as a boyfriend, so it always made you happy when they treated you like one of their own, even though they were just regular customers you sometimes ran into at university.
“The usual?” you asked, already knowing what they were going to order. A cheeseburger with fries for Ony (don’t tell Reiner, his coach, that he loves that), a steak with fries for Eren, and a salad for Connie.
“No, I want something sweeter today,” Connie replied, leaning back against the back of his chair. Eren smirked, understanding perfectly what his best friend really wanted.
“You just want dessert today?” You tilted your head.
Ony’s eyes softened; you looked so cute with your head cocked to the side.
“Nah.” Connie’s voice grew seductive. “Just you.”
Your autistic brain, which didn’t quite grasp irony and sarcasm, made you wear a confused expression. “Hm, what do you mean?”
Connie just licked his lips, his gaze lingering on your fat thighs. “Nothing, mami.”
“Is that a new dress?” Ony asked, tugging at the hem. “You always wear frilly dresses.”
“Yes!” you exclaimed, enthusiastic and all smiles. You loved fashion so much; you were happy that Ony, who was also a fashion boy, noticed your new clothes. “My boyfriend said frills were childish, so I’m trying out a new style.”
The trio frowned and looked at each other, silently saying, “We should kill that motherfucker.”
“Break up with him,” Eren advised, his face hard.
You shook your head, your heart squeezing painfully at the thought of leaving the only man who accepted your autism without judging you. “N-No, it’s okay.” You looked at your feet, your lips trembling as you realized that the only reason you were with Jean was because he didn’t make you feel different from other girls, not because you actually loved him. You needed so much validation from others.
Ony caressed your thigh, sliding his hand up under your dress to grasp the plushness.
“Hey, it’s okay, baby. ‘Ren is kidding.’”
“I’m dead serious, man.”
Ony's gentle caresses on your skin relaxed you, and your autistic brain didn't really grasp that this was inappropriate contact between friends. You just thought he was being kind. Your face softened, and Ony took a perverse pleasure in exploiting your lack of understanding of social cues.
After the chef prepared their meals, you brought them. As you placed the tray on their tables, you dropped a glass, which shattered. You apologized and bent down to pick up the shards, the skirt of your dress lifting up. Eren glanced at your ass, now visible to everyone, lingering on the way your panties molded your folds. His gut twisted in arousal.
“Connie, take a picture,” Eren whispered.
“I’m your lapdog or something? I only like orders from her, idiot,” Connie muttered but silently took a picture of your body under your dress. They had a whole dossier like that. Photos of you smiling at other customers, photos of you space-outing, photos of you studying in the university library… They were perverts. And stalkers. They didn't really care that it was wrong.
When you finally picked up your mess from the floor, you gave them a shy smile that accentuated their secret erections before walking away.
What a cute angel. You had no idea these men were devils.
────────
'I saw Jean with a girl at a frat party, I'm so sorry sweetheart I think he's cheating on you :(('
Your stomach dropped when you saw Sasha's text message, your world crumbled in minutes.
It wasn't possible.
You and Jean had been together for two years. You'd experienced all your firsts with him. He was the first boy who didn't think you were too much, the first boy who didn't seem to see your autism as a burden, the first boy who made you believe that a weird girl like you could finally be loved. He couldn't have cheated on you. Jean loved you. He told you every day. You weren't too much for him. Please, you hope it was a misunderstanding.
You got out of bed, where you'd been studying your botany books, and went to your closet. You'd never been to a frat party because your social anxiety made it difficult for you. Places where there were too many people scared you too. You preferred to stay safe in your apartment, in your bed with satin sheets and stuffed with plushies.
You slipped into a pink denim skirt, a matching bustier top, and your white Naked Wolfe platform boots. You let your long pale pink goddess braids cascade down your back, hoping your outfit was cool enough for a frat party and people wouldn’t overdose with all the pink on you.
Sasha sent you the address, and you left your apartment with a knot in your stomach.
A two-year relationship couldn't end like this. Jean loved you, right? You weren't some unlovable woman who was going to end up alone for the rest of her life, were you?
You clutched the strap of your bag, looking at the floor as you entered the frat house. You didn't want to see the sea of students; it would trigger a panic attack. Rap music blasted from the party's big speakers; maybe a Big Boogie song. People laughed and yelled along to the lyrics. The smell of alcohol, tobacco, and marijuana were everywhere, and you felt like you were in hell. There were too many stimuli all around you, enveloping you and making your brain confused, unable to function properly.
You raised your head, your heart pounding. You had to look around to find Jean. You inspected the ground floor, trying to ignore how your body stiffened when you brushed against the sweaty bodies of the dancers. You hated physical contact because of your autism; you needed to be in a comfortable environment to be touched because of your sensory issues. Sex needed to be gradual.
And then, as you climbed the stairs, reaching the first floor, you saw him.
Pressing Mikasa's body against the wall, his head buried in her neck, his hips grinding into her.
You stood paralyzed, watching them, your heart aching.
You knew Mikasa well. She was a goth girl who was in the same major as Jean. You'd already seen them hanging out together, and Jean had told you she was just a friend.
You didn't yell that he was an asshole. You didn't try to separate them.
You turned around, went downstairs, and left the fraternity house to sit on the sidewalk.
Was it because she understood sarcasm and didn't need the same jokes repeated to her to get the humor?
Was it because she knew how to be quiet when she was passionate about something instead of yapping for hours about a topic nobody cared about, annoying everyone around you?
Was it because she didn't shut down when she was upset?
Was it because she knew how to recognize her feelings when she experienced strong emotions instead of being unable to speak and explain what she felt?
Was it because she didn't need childish things like plushies for comfort?
Was it because she was interested in grown-up things instead of being obsessed with dolls?
You wrapped your arms around your knees and let the tears flow.
As always, because of your autism, you never knew what you were feeling and struggled to identify your emotions. Was it heartbreak? You weren't even in love with Jean. He was just a boy who gave you attention when everyone else rejected you.
No, it was failure.
Failure because you were both not enough and too much. You just wanted to curl up in bed, hug your plushies tightly, and forget that you were an unlovable woman.
To make matters worse, a torrential downpour soaked your clothes, making them wet and sticky, sending shivers of discomfort down your spine. You hated it when your clothes felt too tight because of your sensory issues; it almost hurt and could cause meltdowns.
A flashback of Jean telling you he loved you in the missionary position and that you were his favorite girl intensified your tears.
Could you really blame Jean?
Who would want a girl like you?
A shy girl who was scared of eye contact, never spoke in public, and barely managed to hold a conversation without getting distracted.
You wished you were a normal girl. You wished you were better at hiding your symptoms. You wished you fit in more easily in society.
“Who stole your smile, mami?” A deep voice boomed in front of you, and someone flicked your forehead. You lifted your teary eyes and met Connie's gaze. Next to him, Eren had his hands in the pockets of his baggy jeans, his hood still pulled up, but you could see his concerned expression. Ony held a coat over you to keep the rain from soaking you even more.
You parted your lips, trying to speak, but no words came out. You felt so many emotions that your brain couldn't function anymore. You were happy to see them; they always brightened your day, but tonight, you were so depressed. You failed at love. You were unlovable.
The combination of your clothes clinging to your skin, the loud music blasting from the frat house, and your pain—you just buried your head in your thighs, ignoring everything around you.
Several muscular arms wrapped around you, lifting you off the ground, and when you raised your head, you were sitting in a car with them.
They drove for a good hour on purpose so you could calm down and refocus on your bodily sensations. The silence of the car calmed your distress for a moment, and you remained silent until they drove you to their apartment.
You were so depressed that you followed them without a word to their place, instead of asking them for a ride home. When you entered their living room, you sat on their couch, staring at the floor.
Eren casually slumped down next to you and put an arm around your shoulders.
“Where is my bubbly girl?”
“Dead,” you muttered.
He chuckled lowly.
“Don’t say stuff like this, I would be very heartbroken if you died.”
“I doubt it.” You were playing with the bottom of your skirt. “You will replace me easily like my boyfriend did when he cheated on me.”
Eren glanced at Ony, seeming to say ‘emotional stuff is for you, man’, and Ony sat down next to you. He placed his hand on your thick thigh, squeezing the plushness, his voice gentle.
“He cheated on you?”
You nodded, silently. There was nothing else to say.
“You don’t feel like you can change him and the need to go back to him like some abused women do?” Connie asked, standing with his hands in the pockets of his pants.
“Not really. I think it’s clear I wasn’t the right woman for him.”
“You mean, he wasn’t the right man for you,” Eren corrected.
“No.” You shook your head. “I don’t blame him.”
Connie tsked.
“Princesa, you talk like those abused women.”
“Yeah,” Ony joined the conversation, “I don’t like how you’re talking right now, mama.”
Your eyes watered again as you thought of all the reasons Jean was right to cheat on you.
“You don’t understand,” you sniffed.
Eren leaned against you, his warm breath caressing your neck as he spoke into your ear, his deep voice making you shiver.
“Then explain, sweetheart.”
Ony kissed the tears that were running down your chubby cheeks, and you suddenly felt strangely cared for. Like a warm blanket over your bruised heart. Wrapped in gentle warmth. In the light of affection, not the darkness of rejection.
Maybe they'll understand if you explain? Maybe you weren't really alone in the world?
“I was homeschooled because I had school phobia,” you said shyly. They all listened attentively without saying a word. “I didn't understand the children around me, so it created anxiety. I didn't learn how to mask my autism because I was never in contact with the outside world and my parents were overprotective. So, I just… live my life without hiding my symptoms.”
“That's actually a good thing, you're sincere,” Connie commented, kneeling down to rest his head on your lap. You ran your hands over his bleached buzzcut, your autistic brain fascinated by the feel of his short, freshly shaved hair. Heat rushed to your cheeks when you realized you were the center of attention, making you even more timid than you already were.
“Not really,” you hesitated, “you need to mask your autism to fit in. Only people who want to be outcasts don’t mask it.”
“I’m an asshole, I don’t try to soften up for people, and I have a very good social life,” Eren grumbled, absolutely disagreeing with what you were saying. You didn’t need to perform a personality that wasn’t yours to be accepted; just being yourself was enough.
“That’s right, Eren is the worst person I know.”
Eren glared at Ony who had said that, his brown, lidded eyes shooting daggers, but Ony smirked at him.
“What’s your point, mami? Are you saying Jean cheated on you because you’re not masking your autism?” Connie ignored these two best friends, focused on your suffering.
Your breath hitched when you gazed into his eyes and saw only care, concern, and affection.
“I’m just saying… Maybe if I was a normal girl, maybe he wouldn’t—”
“You know what to do when a boy cheats on you?” He cut in.
You shook your head.
“You show him you’re wanted elsewhere.” He lifted the hem of your skirt to place kisses on your plush thighs, his lips soft against your skin.
“W-Wait,” his kisses made you tickle, “Connie, you’re—”
“Get revenge on that bastard with us.” Eren buried his head in your neck, and your body warmed as you felt his hot tongue on your flesh. Ony slipped his hand under your top to knead one of your breasts. His hand was so large it enveloped it perfectly, making you flustered.
Your brain was in overdrive. Just seconds before, you had been crying because you were suffering from your disability, and now three hot men were kissing and touching you intimately.
An hour ago, you would have pushed them away because you had a boyfriend, but now?
Your freaky side had awakened, your cunt throbbing at the thought of letting yourself be manhandled by three men.
“How do I get revenge?” You whispered, your voice sounding innocent as if you weren't squeezing your thighs together to hide the smell of your arousal from Connie.
“You know damn well, sweetheart,” Eren chuckled before catching a piece of your skin between his teeth and sucking it vociferously. A wave of heat snaked through your lower abdomen and up your upper body, warming your entire being.
Your cheeks burned, feeling slutty for even liking the attention the three men were giving you.
Connie took his phone out of his jeans pocket, turned on the camera to record a video. He spread your legs and lifted your skirt, filming your clothed pussy where a wet spot resided.
“You’re gonna show that dumbass that if he doesn’t want you, other men will take good care of you,” he asserted, rubbing his fingers on the darker part of your panties, making you shiver.
You didn't think Jean would really care if you were getting laid by other men; he'd already shown enough that he didn't give a damn about you. But you said nothing, because part of you was thrilled at the idea of a foursome.
When you were 18, you had a list of things you wanted to experience once you were cured of your social anxiety. Group sex was one of the things on the list. You were a freaky girl, what can you say? It was time to make one of your dreams come true.
“You’re not gonna eat her out before me,” Eren pushed Connie’s head from between your legs.
“Nobody likes chubby women more than me, so yeah, I’m gonna eat her out first.” Connie bit Eren’s hand before nibbling at the inside of your thighs. “Right, baby? Nobody likes your body more than me?” He looked up at you, his voice sultry.
Before you could answer, Eren’s hand wrapped around your throat, pulling you closer. You gasped, your breath coming in the tightness of the pressure, and when you turned your head toward him, his intense eyes made you swallow hard. There was something terrifying about him in that moment.
“Don’t even answer his question, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. I love you more than him.” He crushed his lips against yours, forcing his tongue into your mouth. An electric current pulsed beneath your skin. You closed your eyes, enjoying the intensity of the kiss. There was something about Eren's intimidating aura that made you want to be an obedient girl, fulfilling his every desire and simply pleasing him. You moaned into the kiss, his tongue tangling with yours, kissing you as if he had something to prove. His hand tightened around your throat, making sure you knew who was in charge.
When he pulled away, your eyes fluttered open. His gaze was burning hot, and you almost wanted to tell everyone to leave so he could kiss you like that all night.
Ony's eyes narrowed when he saw the interaction between you and Eren. That bastard. Eren had always been possessive; it didn't surprise him that he was trying to monopolize you.
There had always been a kind of tension between the three boys. As many people said, there was always a duo in a trio, and that was the case with them. Ony and Connie always teamed up to annoy Eren, ragebaiting him and provoking his anger issues.
Now that they were in love with the same girl, it was a race to see who would be your favorite. Ony could no longer count on Connie to beat Eren; he had to assert himself.
While Eren was dominant, Ony was the gentlest man alive. Most of his exes had left him because he was too nice, but he wasn't heartbroken. He didn't want to become a bully like Eren to be appreciated for who he truly was. He was going to find a girl who would find comfort in his kindness, not get bored by his loving caresses, and be satisfied by his gentle side. He was determined to make sure that girl was you.
“Stop choking her, that's not how you treat the girl of your dreams.”
“I touch her however I want. She seems to like it, doesn't she ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚?”
You looked back and forth between Eren and Ony, silent before giggling softly.
“I like you both.”
“Nah, you need to choose someone.” Eren’s hand around your throat moved down to caress your pudgy belly beneath your top, and he sucked on your earlobe. Ony lifted your top to just above your breasts before leaning down to take your nipple in his mouth. You didn't even think about sucking in your stomach or trying to position yourself in a way that would lessen the sagness of your breasts. You were comfortable, felt pretty under their hands and lips, your body hot all over.
Connie slapped your thigh.
“Stop focusing on these useless men, mami,” he muttered.
He caressed your clothed core, making gentle back-and-forth movements that transformed into circular motions around your clit. His hot breath on you, his intense gaze, and his calloused fingers against you were an explosive cocktail that already had you trembling.
“Sensitive as fuck,” he chuckled. “Autism or you’re just needy?”
“Both,” you breathed shyly.
The wet patch grew larger as Connie played with your clothed pussy. A frenzy took hold of your body. The atmosphere was perfect, the touches were intentional and tailored to your needs; you didn't feel overwhelmed by the sensory stimulation. Ony's mouth on your breast, Eren's teeth on your lob, and Connie's fingers pressing against you… It was so simple, yet perfect.
You rocked your hips against Connie's hands. “I want more, please.” Your neediness was barely concealed in your voice.
Connie smirked. “Yeah? What does my girl want?”
"Um… You know what I want," you whispered, feeling so shy you would have hidden under the sofa if you could. Being a shy, introverted girl in a freak body was a nightmare. You wanted to be slutted out so badly but struggled to get there.
"You have no game, Connie," Eren mocked, his hand still gently caressing your stomach. His petty laugh was hoarse and sent waves of pleasure into your center.
Connie ignores his best friend and slowly took off your panties. You hated thongs and very thin panties with your sensory issues, you were glad nobody made fun of your plain pink cotton underwear.
When he looked at your bare pussy, he had the same glint he had when he called you a ‘tremendo mango’ at the restaurant. For many weeks, you thought it was a cute way of showing appreciation with a fruit metaphor before googling and realizing it was a compliment on your looks in Cuba.
“So pretty.” The tip of his fingers wandered over the gossy folds just to feel your wetness and touch your cunt swollen with desire and expectation.
“Do you like sexual stimulation?” Ony asked gently, his tongue curling around your other brown nipple.
“Isn’t that what we’re doing?” You said, clueless, shivering again at Eren’s open-mouthed kisses on your neck.
“I mean sex toys and temperature play.”
Your lips parted in anticipation.
“If it’s gradual and we stop when it’s too much, I think it’s okay,” you smiled.
Ony was jealous of Connie at that moment because he would have eaten you for days for that cute expression.
Ony left the room, already missing his tongue on your body. But Eren’s on your neck was divine. He wasn’t ashamed to devour your neck, sucking on the bits of skin he had caught between his teeth, making you dizzy.
Connie set up his phone so he could film you and have his hands free. He sank his fingers between your lips, parting them, and the way he inspected your flesh made you nervous, but the sensation was so good, he chuckled every time you clenched your thighs too much.
“Focus on the top, please, Connie,” you said, trembling with longing to feel his touch on your clit.
“Nah. You’re not dominant enough for my submissive side, I’m bored.”
You widened your eyes as he withdrew his fingers and, in a panic, you grabbed his head, pressing it against your pussy. The vibrations of his laughter against you sent waves of electricity through your body, and when his tongue lapped through the folds, you saw stars. Ony returned with mysterious toys in his hands and glared at Connie, who had the chance to taste you first. You thought Ony was going to use the objects on you, but he sat down next to you and resumed sucking your nipples greedily, as if preparing you and testing waters. One hand on Connie's buzzcut, pressing it against you, the other on Ony's short black hair—with a fresh new fade because he doesn't play about his appearance, just like you (#besties)—you felt like a queen with her loyal maids existing to please you.
Eren had practically become a vampire with all the little bites he'd made on your neck.
"I could eat you up," he whispered, nuzzling you. "Why do you smell so good?"
“Well, to make perfume last longer, it’s recommended to start with a cream and then layer it with oils, butters, mists, and even Vaseline so it lasts longer. You also need a perfume with a high concentration, not just an eau de toilette—”
He bit you so hard you let out a pained moan.
“Nerdy ass.”
“She’s right, though,” Ony joined the conversation, leaving your nipples alone. “Men need to stop with cheap cologne and buy pure perfume. They buy Savage by Dior and are still surprised they don’t have game.”
“Not everyone is a self-care nerd like you, Ony,” Eren chuckled. “Opinion on Maison Crivelli?”
“You’re trying too hard to be niche, just buy Creed Aventus or some Armani stuff.”
“It’s $300, dumb ass.”
“You’re a rich plug, ‘Ren. But I would buy it for you if you weren’t the ban of my existence.”
“Is this… What they call ‘bromance’?” you added to the conversation in a frail voice because the way Connie was eating you out… You tried not to make a fool of yourself by whimpering like a dog in heat.
“More like rivalry,” Eren said, mock-disdain in his voice.
“He’s jealous because I’m taking care of you while he’s hurting you with his teeth,” Ony teased, clipping a nipple clamp to your little finger to check if the intensity of the fixed pressure and tension wasn’t too overwhelming. After receiving your blessing, he clipped them to your nipples, the silver chain connecting them contrasting with your princess-like appearance.
It felt a little painful… but the pain was exquisite, a sensation you hadn’t experienced before. You were discovering a masochistic side to yourself today.
“She looks so pretty like this,” Eren murmured, staring at your body. “I feel like I’m going to ruin her if I touch her more.” He put a little distance between you to unbutton his jeans and free his heavy erection.
Connie stopped eating you out for a moment. He collected a lot of your arousal on his hand to spread it on Eren's dick, making masturbation easier. You looked at Eren, amazed that he wasn't bothered by his best friend touching his cock. He smirked.
"Brotherhood, baby."
You burst out laughing but ended up moaning as Connie went back into business.
Ony and Eren glanced at each other, both captivated by the way you arched your back on the couch, your chest rising and falling, your lips agape.
Ony kissed your arm, along the length of it, as Eren shamelessly stroked his dick while staring at you.
"Ony, you need to fuck her first. I'm going to overwhelm her, I'll save my turn for last," Eren proposed, his voice raspier as his hand worked itself over.
"I like the way you're thinking," Ony smiled against your skin, happy to be the first. Connie's tongue traced around your clit. He was having fun. Sometimes he pressed the tip of his tongue against your clit without moving, to make you whimper; sometimes he made circles over it to make you tremble; or most of the time he avoided touching it so as not to overstimulate you and lapped through the folds. The combination of Ony's kisses returning to your neck, the nipple claws, Connie's tongue, and the sounds of Eren's hand rubbing together made you feel like you were overheating, until you finally exploded. It wasn't spectacular; your autism made you struggle to show big emotions on your face, but Connie and Ony caught the way your body was wracked with spasms and your lip was bitten.
"Now get out of the way." Ony pushed Connie aside, who was laughing at his best friend's excitement.
Connie got up from the floor and picked up his phone to be the cameraman again. Ony laid you down on the couch, resting your head on Eren's lap. Eren smirked at you, looking down at you, his erection just next to your shy face.
“Are we going to do double penetration at some point? Because I need to be prepared, it can hurt,” you said softly, anxiously. Your autistic brain needed to know all the preparations and plan everything in advance so you wouldn't be surprised when it happened. You constantly needed clear instructions and reassurance.
The three of them let out a quiet laugh.
Eren used the hand that didn't touch his length to stroke the top of your head.
“You are prepared, don't worry.”
Ony removed his clothes, and your jaw dropped at the sight of all the tattoos that adorned his dark brown skin, making him look intimidating and even sexier now. He lay on top of you, the hard planes of his body pressed against your soft curves. You felt the definition of his muscles against you, the proof of his dedication to his sport.
His head above you, his beauty and his handsomeness made your cunt clench.
“Hey,” you whispered softly.
“Hey.” He smiled wrapping your thick thigh around his waist. “How do you want it, love?”
You wrapped an arm around his neck, pressing him against you. “Slow and deep.”
“I’m gonna give you that.”
“I’m not this filming this sappy shit,” Connie grumbled.
“Yeah, they are acting as if my dick isn’t aching right now. The fuck you mean slow?” Eren added.
Ony and you ignored them. He kissed you as he lined his dick to your entrance and pushed his hips in. Your eyes widened at the size difference with Jean, and glanced at Eren, who also had a large one. Feeling full, you had trouble breathing as he bottomed out, and then being able to do it again when he moved his hips backward.
Ony felt Eren’s jealous glare in the back of his head and chuckled.
“Take care of my friend, baby,” he commanded.
With your free hand, you jerked your wrist to jerk Eren's cock, while Ony fucked you. Eren let out a groan of relief at the contact of your hand.
“Such a versatile girl,” Connie teased, making you flustered.
Ony was a precise man. He hated jackhammering during sex. All his thrusts were calculated to please his partner, not just to ejaculate. He was gentle, but incredibly intense. Slow thrusts didn’t mean no hard thrusts. So he angled his hips perfectly so that every time he hit the depth of your pussy, he struck a sensitive spot that made your chubby body tremble even if his pace was slow. The way your curves jiggled with his every move was mesmerizing, and all three men’s eyes in the room were fixed on you.
Your hand ran along Eren’s length, squeezing sometimes, stroking most of the time, as you moaned because of Ony fucking you. His hips slammed so hard against you, feeling so good, while still being gentle; this man was crazy. How was that possible? You hugged him more, wanting to make love with him forever.
Eren’s hand twitched at the top of your head, his breathing ragged. He didn't even contain his arousal for long and let himself cum on your face. You let out a chuckle at the surprise of the action. Ony leaned down to lick some of it on your cheek.
“Why are all of you so gay?” you asked, confused.
“Shhhh,” Ony pressed his lips against yours, continuing his slow love making
“Okay, Ony your time is up,” Eren muttered, punching Ony in the shoulder. Ony groaned, not even that close from release but agreed to withdraw from you. Eren cleaned your face with a tissue before placing a kiss on your forehead.
You let them manipulate your body into whatever position they wanted. You were now sitting on Connie, who had given the camera to Ony, with Eren positioned behind you.
You knew Eren was aggressive. You could feel it in his aura and the way he spoke to people. So, as both dicks slid inside you, your heart pounded with the excitement of being manhandled. It took a little while to adjust to the two cocks inside you, but once you were comfortable, Connie murmured, "Kiss me." You leaned down to give him what he needed.
You rocked your hips, Eren's and Connie's hands on them for the moment. Eren was dangerously calm as you rode Connie, and didn't give him much friction. The sweat that had accumulated on your back intensified as you thought about when Eren would snap and show his true colors.
“Boring,” he finally snapped, grabbing a handful of your braids and pulling them back, making you gasp.
On his knees on the couch, his hips moved back and forth at a punishing pace. Absolutely no attempt at a gradual rhythm to get you used to it; he didn’t care about your whimpers. He took what he wanted, when he wanted it.
Connie kept his hands on your hips, guiding them to gyrate on him. Sometimes, his hands moved up to touch your love handles, kneading your softness.
“The way we don’t need any lube,” Ony joked, moving closer to the trio, nudging his dick against your cheek while filming your flustered reaction. “You think you take three dicks inside you, baby?”
You nodded softly, wanting to please him. Eren released your hair to let you lean down to take Ony’s dick in your mouth. But Eren picked up the pace even more, hand on your back.
You almost choked on Ony’s dick with the aggressiveness of Eren’s thrusts, and the worst part was that Ony pushed his hips anyway. You looked up at him in surprise and he gave you a little smirk, zooming in on your betrayed expression.
“What is it? Your mouth is full of dick, you can’t tell me how betrayed you are that I have a bit of Eren in me. Poor you.”
Ony’s tone became more petty and you moaned on his dick, turned on by this new change of event. You hoped he would still have mostly his gentle side, but you don’t mind his mean side sometimes.
“Bounce that ass, bitch. You’re not doing enough for me,” Eren muttered.
Eren’s frantic pace made you gargling with Ony’s dick, the sound of it making the three men growl. Ony fed you his cock with quick snap of his hips, hitting the deepest spot you can take him. Connie played with your breasts and nipples clamps as he lifted his own pelvic floor to penetrate you deeper. Eren still stroked your braids even though he fucked you like he hated your guts.
The video continued to play, filming the spectacle.
But the camera will never be enough to understand the pleasure you were currently feeling. Hearing Ony groan because of you made you feel powerful. The fact that Eren fucked you like an animal made you let go. And Connie, who was a mix of both but in a submissive way, made you feel understood, since he saw your lack of confidence.
Everything was perfect.
But as always, your disability ruined everything.
Maybe they'll get tired of you like Jean did because of it. You patted Ony's thigh to let him know you wanted to stop, and when the boys realized you were overstimulated, they stopped everything, including the video.
It was like you had needles everywhere, and even the touch of a feather was unbearable. Anxiety and discomfort paralyzed you. You couldn't speak until the sensory overload dissipated, and you just sat on the sofa staring at the floor, extremely embarrassed by how you felt in front of them.
────────
𝐚 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫…
They weren't making fun of you. They understood what was happening and turned off the lights to reduce sensory input and did breathing exercises with you. You begged them never to mention it again, it was so embarrassing and you felt bad about ruining everything, but they always reassured you that they didn't care.
Now, you were in a polyamorous relationship with them.
It happened so naturally. The day after they sent the video to Jean, you were bombarded with messages from him, but you ended up blocking him on Eren's orders. Sad about your breakup, Ony took you shopping with him, and Connie made you Cuban dishes that catered to your autistic food obsessions to comfort you.
After a few days, you had stopped thinking about Jean because you were always spending time with your new boyfriends.
They were all diametrically opposed, but all perfect for you.
────────
˚₊‧꒰ა 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 : 𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
This should have stayed private between you and Sasha.
When she asked you who your favorite boyfriend was, you told her you loved them all equally for different reasons, but that Ony was the one you felt the most cared for with.
One day, Eren was on your phone for some random reason, and Sasha sent you a TikTok about couples, saying, "That's so Ony, no wonder he is your favorite boyfriend."
You never saw Eren so angry.
No matter how much you explained the nuance of your opinion, he wouldn't listen and was deeply hurt that you were had a favorite in your relationship with them.
Connie was nonchalant, so he couldn't care less, but he wasn't helping to ease the tension in the apartment because Eren had been in a constant sour mood since the incident. During the week you made love individually, and on weekends you had foursomes, but Eren had stopped participating in anything.
Eren always played the bad boy, but he was one of the most emotional men in the world.
But, thinking about it, you understood why he was so hurt.
You and Eren had a somewhat special relationship. It had taken you weeks to get used to calling him by the word he wanted to hear from you, because it was new to you. But he deserved it. He lived up to the word. He had punched a guy at a frat party who had made fun of you for not talking much. He was the one who knew the signs of your sensory overload best. He gave you advice on how to earn more respect. He was all about making yourself respected, protected, and taken care of. A dad.
Of course, he was hurt that you felt more cared for by Ony than with him, just because Ony was gentler. It made him feel bad about his personality, about himself. He didn't want to be the favorite, but he didn't want to be one of the least liked of your quartet either.
“Eren, you're such a child,” you pouted when he continued to ignore you while he played Final Fantasy XV on the big TV in your apartment.
“You literally have stim toys,” he mumbled, not an ounce of gentleness in his voice, his jaw clenched.
“A real daddy wouldn't act like that.”
That's when you annoyed him. He threw his controller onto the couch, abandoning Noctis character, and ran after you. You screamed as he charged toward you and started running all over the apartment. Instinctively, you went into his room—big mistake. Eren locked the door and grabbed your braids, pulling you against his muscular chest. Eren had a sleeper build, thin from the outside, a greek god once naked.
“And a daddy wouldn’t fuck his daughter so what is your point, huh?” Eren mumbled.
You nuzzle his hard chest, not finding the comfort you can find in Connie’s body which is less muscular and softer. “Connie is better for hugging, like a real daddy,” you teased him.
“Strip.”
“Uh?”
“You’re going to learn who is really taking care of you in this house.”
── .✦ 𝐚 𝐟𝐞𝐰 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫…
“I’m so sorry!” you cried, but it didn’t matter since Eren had pushed your face into the pillow. All your pleas, screams, and cries were muffled now. The only thing that could be heard was Eren’s ragged and your flesh bumping against each other. The backshots were crazy, and he wished he could send this to Connie.
“Sorry for what? Disobeying dad? Making fun of me? Be specific because you’ve been a really bad kid lately and it pissed me off,” he panted, picking up the pace, if that was even possible.
Your tears soaked the pillow and intensified as he thrust into you. It felt so good; before Eren, you didn’t know you could have sex like this because of your sensory issues. But it was perfect. Eren didn’t change much. He would always be dominant, and you would always be submissive. He would always choose positions where he was in control, always slap you, choke you, and spank you. It was very brutal, but it was so comforting for you, autistically. You loved routine. Eren's brutality was comforting.
“I love you, I'm sorry for saying Ony was my favorite,” you sniffed, lifting your head as best you could so he could hear you.
“You're only sorry because I'm fucking you to make you say it.”
“No, I—”
“I love Ony. He is the smartest man I know. People only care about his athletic performance, but he has a brilliant brain, very strategic. However,” he grumbled, “my kid can't love him that much.”
“You're right, I'm sorry,” you repeated like a robot because you wanted him to turn you over quickly so you could kiss your favorite angry boyfriend. “You're perfect for me, Eren.”
“Uh,” he smirked, his pace slowing down, “I don’t remember being called this.”
“Stop trying to make me embarrassed. Our relationship is already very weird,” you whispered.
“Ah, you're a hypocrite now? It's just because Connie came back from college a few minutes ago that you're whispering. When he's not there, you easily shout “i feel it in my belly daddy”. You think I'm stupid?”
“Shut your damn mouth, oh my god!” you screamed, mortified that Connie knew what you and Eren had as a dynamic. Connie was a bastard, he was gonna make fun of a dynamic that is deeper than just sex.
A deep chuckle rumbled in Eren’s chest. He pulled your thighs back so that you were lying down and in a prone bone position. He nuzzled your neck. “I accept the apologies of my daugther.”
“Ewwww.”
“Acting you’re not into that shit.”
You laughed and he kissed your skin, making you shiver.
────────
˚₊‧꒰ა 𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧'𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
[messages from ‘princess’s harem 🎀 ’ group chat]
goofiestcubandick69 : i just heard our girl call eren daddy in bed ??????????
lamelo’s left ball : wdym daddy that boy can’t even handle his own emotions
lamelo’s left ball : how he is gonna handle a kid
goofiestcubandick69 : thats what im saying
[...]
you : ummmm can yall forget this okay…….
worstpsychiatricpatient : im actually her dad tho
worstpsychiatricpatient : do you even know what is hyposensitivity in autism
lamelo’s left ball : you’re acting like that’s a fatal character flaw to not know
lamelo’s left ball : admitting you don’t know something is the first step to be smarter
goofiestcubandick69 : no but do she knows you ate your own shit when we were at the nursery
[worstpsychiatricpatient has left the chat.]
goofiestcubandick69 : yeah thats what i thought
you : WTF ????????????????????
────────
˚₊‧꒰ა 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐝 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 : 𝐨𝐧𝐲 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
Studying for exams was torture for your autism.
Exams disrupted all your routines; you now had to care about things you didn't care about, and you didn't dare complain to your boyfriends because you felt like you complained all the time. As if you had a monopoly on suffering. They suffered from exams too, and you didn't want to bother them with your usual autistic complaints.
You were trying not to burst into tears in the university library because of all the academic pressure and the sheer amount of material you had to study.
As you were reviewing your lectures’s notes, someone sat down next to you. A familiar scent of men's cologne made you stiffen as you looked at the person.
"Not sucking three dicks?" Jean smiled, but there was nothing warm in his expression.
“I’ll do what I want, you cheated on me,” you muttered, unsure of yourself, but like Eren and Connie had taught you to be more confident in your comebacks.
“You weren’t exactly the ideal girlfriend. They’ll leave you eventually and realize it too.” You looked away from the brown-haired man to your textbooks, your eyes welling with tears.
It was your biggest fear.
Being a burden to others. That’s why you tried not to complain too much about your autism so as not to bore your boyfriends.
You wanted your boyfriends to be able to talk about your personality first. About your love of pink. About your collection of perfumes and platform boots. About your knowledge of cosmetology. About your rare vintage clothes.
No, they had to tell all their friends during parties that you were autistic so no one would be mean to you because you didn't talk much because of not understanding the world around you and struggling to read the room.
You were chatty with your boyfriends because they had become routines. But anything new was difficult for you to understand, so you struggled to be yourself.
You shouldn't be ashamed of your disability, but a disability did what it did: it handicapped you in life.
"Many autistic people are happily married. My boyfriends are happy with me. You're the only idiot who can't leave me and prefers to be unfaithful," you said in a trembling voice before leaving the university library. You hoped your boyfriend were proud of you for standing for yourself.
────────
When sadness strikes, always turn to Ony. It should be a famous saying.
“Point in my life” by Gucci Mane was playing in the gym, accompanied by the sound of bouncing basketballs. You cheered Ony on as he made baskets for his practice. With each basket, you yelled, and he turned to look at you, laughing. The other people in the stands looked at you as if you were the male-centered protagonist of a romance novel, but you didn't care. Your baby, your man was surely going to be drafted this summer; he deserved all the praise!
When he finished his practice, you went to the locker room with him. You innocently watched all the men getting dressed in front of you, giving you strange looks, waiting to be alone with your lover.
Once alone, Ony d led you to the showers so you could get undressed.
“What’s on your mind? I know these eyes cried, ma’. Don’t fool me,” Ony murmured, kneeling before you when you were finally naked under the shower spray.
“W-What are you doing?”
He pressed your back against the shower wall and lifted one of your legs to his shoulder.
“You don’t know? Pussy eating therapy session.”
You burst into laughter at the absurdity but quickly panted when he buried his nose and mouth deep into wet folds.
“I… I feel like I’m going to burn out from the exams. It’s just too much. I can’t sleep because it stresses me out so much, and on top of that, I’m not doing my usual routines anymore, so I’m not myself anymore,” you paused to let out a moan as his tongue caressed a particularly sensitive spot. “I cry all the time when I study, and I didn’t want to seem like an attention whore by talking to you about my problems.”
Indulging in your arousal, he groaned at the scent of you; it made him lose his mind. He moved his tongue deeper, lapping at you, twisting it inside.
“I’m scared you, Connie and Eren will leaving me because of my autism.”
That made him stop completely, and he looked at you in horror.
“The fuck?”
Thinking about what Jean said made your eyes water, and fed up, you sobbed. Sometimes you laughed, sometimes you cried; these days you didn’t even remember yourself.
“Mama,” he said softly, rising from the floor to embrace you, kissing your cheek wet not from the shower but from your tears. “Who put these shitty ideas in your head?”
“M-My ex…”
“And what did I tell you about that motherfucker?”
“That he was stupid to look at any other woman but me.”
“Exactly, so why do you listen to him?”
“I don’t know, he was as loving as you all, and still cheated.”
“Being loving doesn’t mean shit. He never helped you during a meltdown. We did. A lot. I hope he dies.”
You widened your eyes. “Don’t say that!”
“What are you gonna do with your socially anxious ass to make me stop, huh?”
You pouted. “Nothing…”
“Right, now let me fuck you good, you need it.”
He lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist, as he stood pushing you against the wall.
He kissed you as his dick slid in, all his affection communicate through his tongue, his kiss, the way his hips slammed again you.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, your hands stroking his short hair under the shower jet which dampened it into tight curls.
“I feel so safe with you, Ony. Sorry for what I said, I trust you. I’m a bit tired because of school, I think,” you whispered against his lips.
“Yeah? You’re not gonna listen to this dumbass again?”
You shook your head.
“Proud of my sweet girl.”
────────
˚₊‧꒰ა 𝐨𝐧𝐲'𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
[messages from ‘princess’s harem 🎀 ’ group chat]
goofiestcubandick69 : are yall into public sex
you : NO!!!!!!!!!!
worstpsychiatricpatient : yea
lamelo’s left ball : hell no
lamelo’s left ball : nobody looks at my girl like that
goofiestcubandick69 : then why there is a rumor on the campus about our girl looking at naked men with you
worstpsychiatricpatient : thats even gayer than when he licked my cum
lamelo’s left ball : we masturbated together in middle school eren
[worstpsychiatricpatient has left the chat.]
goofiestcubandick69 : man you’re a child
goofiestcubandick69 : and gay
goofiestcubandick69 : ony i didnt forget
goofiestcubandick69 : you put MY girl with naked men
goofiestcubandick69 : tf is wrong with you
lamelo’s left ball : why are we focused on ME when SHE was in my male locker room ?????
goofiestcubandick69 : mi princesa can do no wrong
goofiestcubandick69 : soy su perro
you : exactlyyyyyy
[worstpsychiatricpatient is back in the chat.]
worstpsychiatricpatient : two dumb bitches telling each other ‘exactlyyyyyy’
[worstpsychiatricpatient has left the chat.]
goofiestcubandick69 : this man is true to his @
goofiestcubandick69 : don’t call mi princesa a bitch u motherfucker
goofiestcubandick69 : but call me a bitch if you want to i’m into that
you : ????????
lamelo’s left ball : he has the nerve to call eren gay
────────
˚₊‧꒰ა 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 : 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
If Eren was your angry boyfriend, Ony your gentle lover, Connie should be your sexy latino man?
That's what everyone thought about Connie.
On campus, the girls with a latino men fetish are interested in him because of his accent. His tattoos. His piercings. His immigrant status. He knows these white american girls well, girls who see latin America as a land full of sexy men, who think latin culture is just about aesthetics. So he created three phases to find the right people for him.
First, phase number 1, which attracts all the girls: The laid-back latino.
Sweatpants. Tattoos. Laid-back persona. Stoned out a lot. Hanging out with the university's plug Eren and the university's star, Ony. Calling any girl 'mami'. The girls love it, adore it, and can't get enough.
Then, he reveals a little bit of himself, and that's when things get out of hand.
There's his "goofy" phase, when he shows how weird and funny he can be, even if it makes him less of a stereotypical latino man.
99% of the girls leave or get the ick.
That's how he knew you were the one because you never thought much of his goofy behavior sometimes and just went along with him. He feels so normal with you; he doesn't have to perform some racist stereotype with you, you just accept him with all his facets.
Now, he can finally show his final layer: his submissive side.
────────
Being the dominant one in the relationship was so much fun.
Of course, you liked being manhandled by Eren, or being praised by Ony.
But it was just as exciting as getting what your submissive man wanted tonight.
“Do whatever you want to do to me in my sleep. If I don’t wake up with you fucking me, I’m gonna blow up the apartment.”
You and Connie looked at each other during dinner, even when you were on Eren’s lap or in Ony’s arms. You both knew you were going to have fun tonight when everyone was asleep. You were going to have fun when he was asleep.
You crept into his room so as not to wake him. You climbed onto the bed and noticed he wasn’t wearing a blanket or a shirt. You chuckled; he was really waiting for this.
You leaned down to kiss all over his chest and abdomen, your tongue flicking around his navel piercing and all his tattoos.
His body shivered, but he didn't open his eyes.
You stripped him of the rest of his clothes and spat on your bare breasts, then smeared the saliva on the inside of your breasts. Your mouth watered at his hard pierced dick that reacted to your kisses. Big. Thick. Exactly the type of dick you wanted to rub your tits around.
You gently palmed his cock before placing it between your breasts. You added more saliva to your mess as you kneaded your breasts around him. The situation was oddly stimulating sensorially with the softness of your chest and the humidity of your saliva.
“Mami, I missed you,” Connie murmured, voice still sleepy as he rubbed his eyes.
You gave him an affectionate smile. “What do you want tonight?”
“Uh, you never learn? My body belongs to you. You’re the one who chooses everything.”
A fire snaked through your belly, igniting your insides.
You stopped what you were doing even though you saw disappointment in his eyes, but they lit up when you sat on his pelvis, sliding down his dick.
“Oh hell yeah,” he moaned, his hands coming to your hips but you slapped him.
“I didn’t say you could do that, Connie,” you chided him. “Put your hands above your head, I’ll slap you if you move them.”
His gut twisted with arousal, he absolutely nodded and obeyed with enamored eyes.
You couldn't say no to people but were able to slap your man, the duality of an autistic freaky woman.
You leaned down to stabilize yourself on his shoulders. Lifting yourself off his cock, you slid down again brutally, making him gasp and whine for more. When he whined too much, you slapped him and told him to stop. He almost cummed and bit his lower lip till it bled not to.
You did everything you wanted to Connie. A slow pace when your legs were tired. At fast pace, fucking yourself on his dick. Sometimes, you turned over and he thanked God women existed just to see your ass gyrating in front of him.
When you were the dominant one, you experienced less sensory overload during sex, that’s why you loved having sex with Connie so much.
You rode him, rocking your hips against him, your tits bouncing, looking like a voluptuous succubus who haunted him at night. It made him lose his mind, and spouting nonsense, his brain going dumb.
“Yesterday I genuinely cried because I wanted to eat you out but it was Ony’s day, so I ate so many sweets just to feel you on my tongue.”
Your heart fluttered and you leaned down to kiss him. “You’re so cute and weird, Connie.”
He forgot about the rules and just hugged his favorite girl ever.
────────
˚₊‧꒰ა 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞'𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
[messages from ‘princess’s harem 🎀 ’ group chat]
worstpsychiatristpatient : how do you cope with the fact that your girl is a rapist
you : WTFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF
you : ???????????
goofiestcubandick69 : she cant rape me since i am her slave
goofiestcubandick69 : my body is her propriety
worstpsychiatristpatient : not only my girl is a rapist
worstpsychiatristpatient : but she uses mind control
goofiestcubandick69 : exactly
goofiestcubandick69 : my mind is controlled by her
goofiestcubandick69 : i always think of my girl
lamelo’s left ball : i’m employed what happened
you : eren discovered somno
[lamelo’s left ball is now offline.]
goofiestcubandick69 : thats why i love ony
goofiestcubandick69 : he knows how to mind his own business
worstpsychiatristpatient : just so you know i called the police
worstpsychiatristpatient : mind u i’m the only one who have a real job and a dangerous one at that
worstpsychiatristpatient : so fuck u lamelo wannabe
────────
˚₊‧꒰ა 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 : 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
“Ma’, you’re going to hurt yourself.”
Ony took the star you were trying to put on top of the fake pink tree Connie had found on some niche website. He placed it where you wanted it.
“There is no way, it’s really the only color we will ever see at Christmas,” Eren grumbled, rummaging through the Christmas decorations you and Connie had bought weeks earlier, appalled by all the pink in them. “Christmas is green and red!”
“Well, it’s my girl’s world so I don’t care about Christmas rules,” Connie mumbled, taking a drag of his blunt, sitting on the couch.
“And you guys also have pink Christmas pajamas to wear!” you said excitedly, pulling out the pink pajama sets with snowflake patterns.
Eren winced, Connie gave a thumbs-up, and Ony chuckled. But they wore them all, just for your beautiful eyes.
It was going to be a fun Christmas, but you wouldn't trade places for anything in the world.
Because you were with the three loves of your life. In no particular order. Just the trio of your heart.
──────── ✃- - - - - - - - - - - you liked it ? please support fics you liked with a reblog or a comment ! writers never know how we impact you if you don't say anything <3 ── .✦
❤︎﹕nerdjo is soo fed up with you, so he... complains to your pussy?
“you,” nerd!gojo says, not to you, but to the part of him his six-inch-long fingers are devouring. “you’re always so quiet when she’s yelling at me. you could at least make a little noise for me then, y'know?”
you seize up, surprise and confusion hitting at the same time. “gojo, what the hell are you—”
but he only shushes you with a patronizing little tsk, thrustsing two fingers deep in you just to watch you moan while his other hand clamps over your mouth–firm enough to cut your words.
“i’m talking to her. not you.” his eyebrows furrow in that petty, childish pout he gets whenever he’s mildly inconvenienced, his bottom lip jutting out just the tiniest bit. “you see, baby? she always tries to interrupt. just like when i was trying to study and she snatched my notes and threw them in a pond. called me a useless nerd right in front of everyone.”
his long fingers sustain a languid rhythm, his sculpted chest heaving with a short, annoyed huff at the memory. when you jerk your hips to throw him off, the heel of his hand cracks against your poor cunt—a sharp, stinging smack that forces a wet squelch against his palm.
“and the hitting,” he continues, voice pitching into a whinier, petulant cadence. “you wouldn’t believe it. last week, i got a bruise on my arm.” he adjusts his angle, the pad of his thumb rubbing your clit in coarse circles. “just because i corrected her answer in advanced calculus. i was right! i always am! but she just likes making me feel small, doesn't she?"
stop it" you shove against his shoulders, but satoru doesn't even rock back. he just pushes his fingers deeper, the heel of his hand pressing roughly against you.
“no,” his bright blue eyes are huge and glassy, talking to your cunt like it’s his only friend. “she doesn’t get to tell me to stop. not after she made me do her entire literature thesis. not after she tripped me in the cafeteria, and my tray went everywhere. i had to clean it up myself.”
he pumps his fingers into you harder, the wet sound of your body fluids becoming obscenely loud. “you understand me, don’t you? you’re the only one who’s ever nice to me.”
“g-gojo, please...” you whimper, not even sure what you’re asking for. you’re so close, and the humiliation from this boy you’ve spent all semester tormenting only fuels it.
“s'okay,” he coos, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “you can show her, right? show her what happens when she’s mean to me. do it f'me, baby.”
it’s the final, bizarre permission your body needed. you come, a hot, gushing release that soaks his hand, his wrist, the inside of your thighs. it sprays, pearly streaks against the white sheets.
satoru goes perfectly still. his whining ceases as he cocks his head like a curious puppy. he slowly draws his glistening fingers out, staring at the wet trails sliding down his knuckles with an expression of rapt, awe-struck wonder, as if he's just successfully completed a difficult laboratory experiment. a long, satisfied exhale escapes his plush lips, his broad shoulders finally relaxing.
"you did it," he breathes, his voice reverent. he brings his soaked fingers to his mouth, never breaking eye contact with the only thing that never disappointed him. he licks a stripe across his wrist, swallowing your fluids eagerly. “you did so good. congratulations. see? i knew you had it in you.”
he looks up at your eyes then, his azure gaze blazing with triumph behind his crooked glasses. a whiney, desperate nerd, glowing with perverse pride.
“see?” he whispers, leaning in to kiss your jaw. “i knew you liked me.”
✮ bsf dad!toji fucks you in your mini skirt while his son is away.
it didn't start out on purpose.
your mom told you that some new neighbors — a father and a son — moved in next door and said you had to go make friends. you didn't feel like talking to anyone, but you did what you were told — you grabbed an apple pie and headed over. but some lad your age didn't open the door, an older man did.
a hot older man with biceps bigger than your head.
"were you lookin' for someone, sweetie?" he asked while you just stared at him without blinking.
from that day on, your skirts got shorter, your tops got way more revealing, and somehow his son became your best friend — just so you could drop by their house whenever you wanted. and you did. you leaned over the table way too far, accidentally spilled milk on your chest, and licked your yogurt spoon like you were auditioning for a porn.
of course he noticed.
so he hit you up through his son's computer, inviting you over because you needed to work on a biology project.
you didn't even have biology. you should've known — and you did. but who were you to say no to a little extra credit?
you showed up in that same trashy top that showed off your nipples and a pink mini-skirt that barely hid your ass.
you were totally ready for an anatomy biology lesson.
next thing you knew, your face was buried in his sheets and your ass was hiked up high. "teased me all fuckin' month, didn't you?" his voice vibrated right over you, followed by a loud, wet smack on your cheek.
he didn't even take your skirt off. you whimpered and tried to cover up, but he swatted you again and spread you open with his fingers. "don't you fuckin' dare hide from me," he growled. "you begged for this when you walked around in those tiny-ass skirts."
you pushed back against his hands — you were already soaking your inner thighs, and the cold air hit your wet skin, making you gasp. "h-hngh! t-toji!"
he let out a short, raspy laugh and slapped your red ass again. "look at you," he said. "leakin' like a little slut for your friend's dad." then he gave your clit a sharp smack — your body arched, your ass jerked up, and you let out a loud moan. "yeah, scream so your parents hear how much of a needy slut they raised."
he shoved three fingers inside you all at once, no prep — cuz you flirted way too much with the neighbor kid yesterday and it pissed him off. "it’s — it’s too much!" you whined. "mmngh!... i can’t..... i can’t!" but he didn't care. he moved his fingers fast and hard, stretching you out like no toy ever did. "is this what you pictured when you touched yourself?" he whispered with a smirk. "me rippin' your little pussy apart with my fingers?"
you gasped for air and nodded aggressively making him laugh, then suddenly rip his fingers out, making you sob from the emptiness. "toji... i want..." but you just got another smack, and then he pulled down his sweatpants and settled behind you.
he rubbed his hard cock against your folds, slowly, with pressure, grinding against your clit in circles. "i'm gonna fuck this attitude right out of you," he spat. "is this what you want?"
you didn't have time to answer — he slammed into you all at once, no prep, no condom. "ha-ah! wait... toji, you’re without a... mmh!" you breathed out, and he leaned on his elbows, pressing his mouth to your ear. "if you’re gonna act like a slut, i’m gonna fuck you like one."
the sound of his balls slapping your clit echoed through the whole living room, your pussy squelched loud and filthy - wet, and the couch under you was soaked through — it would need a professional cleaning. "want me to put a baby in you?" he whispered, slamming even deeper. "so young, and you’re gonna be full of my seed. you wanna give my son a little brother?"
he ripped you apart from the inside, his bicep crushing your neck while your hair stuck to your sweaty temples. any other day you would've actually processed what he was saying — but right now, with his huge cock that deep? you were just a wreck whining under him. "y-yes!" it ripped out of you like it wasn't even your own voice. "i want it so bad, toji… please… m-mnh… i want your baby… ha-ah!"
he picked up the pace and swatted your ass. "gonna make you a young mom, huh? is that what your sweet little pussy wants? for me to blow a load deep inside?" you tried to talk back, but he shoved two fingers in your mouth — and right then, the orgasm hit like a freight train. you came hard, clinching down on his cock and sobbin' around his fingers. he yanked them out of your mouth and sucked 'em dry himself. "that's it, baby. cum all over my cock while i put a baby in you."
he hammered you into the mattress — shifting between wide circles and pulling almost all the way out just to slam back in with one heavy thrust. you bucked your hips to meet him every time 'cause even after coming, you were still starving for it.
at the last second, he pulled out — just in time, 'cause you were still way too young and he didn't give a single fuck about dealing with your parents having a goddamn meltdown.
more?
! took the art from pinterest, couldn't find the artist — lmk if you know. sparkle cr: @kthice
︵ ೀ mdni. you and shoko always casually made out at parties but that stopped after she started dating suguru, until one night she invites you to join them and you end up as their plaything ( threesome / being used by them )
the parties were always the same.
loud music, dim lights, too much alcohol, and the two of you ending up in some dark corner like it was inevitable. it started with teasing, a smirk from shoko, then her pulling you close by the waist. your lips would crash together—messy, hungry, tasting like cheap vodka and cigarettes.
her hands always found their way under your shirt, fumbling with the clasp of your bra while you gasped into her mouth. she’d squeeze your tits roughly, thumbs brushing over your nipples until they hardened under her touch. you’d moan softly, pressing closer, grinding against her thigh just a little, but it never went further than that.
clothes stayed mostly on. hands wandered, but never below the waist. it was always rushed, sloppy, and over too fast—someone would call shoko’s name or the music would change and you’d both pull away laughing, lips swollen, cheeks flushed.
“just messing around,” shoko would say with that lazy smile, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. but for you… it was never just messing around.
every time her fingers slipped under your bra and pinched your nipple, you ached for more. every time she sucked on your tongue and squeezed your tits like she owned them, you wished she would push you against the wall and actually fuck you. you wanted her hands between your legs, wanted her mouth on your skin, wanted her to take you somewhere private and make you hers for real.
but you never said it. you swallowed it down, smiled like it was nothing, and told yourself it was just fun.
until it wasn’t anymore. because shoko started dating suguru.
it made perfect sense. they looked so good together—the two college heartthrobs. shoko with her effortless cool, cigarette dangling from her lips, pretty eyes and that lazy smile. suguru with his long dark hair, calm confidence, and that beauty that made people stare.
they fit. they looked like they belonged on magazine covers, like the kind of couple everyone secretly envied. when they walked into a room together, heads turned.
and now the corner makeouts stopped completely. now she sits in his lap at parties, kissing him slow and deep while his hands rest on her hips. you watch from the side, nursing your drink, trying to ignore the sharp twist in your chest every time she moans softly against his mouth.
you told yourself it didn’t bother you. you smiled when they told you they were official. you even teased them about how disgustingly cute they looked together.
but tonight, the jealousy feels like a live wire under your skin.
you’re all back at suguru’s apartment after another loud night out. the lights are low, music still playing softly from someone’s phone. you’re sitting on the couch with too sugary drink in your hand, watching them.
shoko is straddling suguru’s lap, kissing him slow and deep, the kind of kiss that makes everything else disappear. her fingers are tangled in his long dark hair, hips rolling slowly against him as their tongues slide together wetly. every soft sound she makes hits you like a punch.
you look away, cheeks burning, but your eyes keep drifting back. you remember how her hands felt on your chest, how she used to pinch and knead your tits until you were panting. but now those hands are on him.
shoko eventually pulls back for air, lips shiny and swollen. her eyes find you across the couch and she tilts her head, studying your face.
“you’ve been quiet,” she says. “jealous?”
you shrug, trying to play it cool. “no, i’m not jealous.”
shoko lets out a soft laugh. she leans back against suguru’s chest, still straddling him, and looks at you with that familiar lazy smirk.
“liar. i know you.”
before you can protest, she slides off suguru’s lap and crawls over to you on the couch. her hand comes up to cup your jaw, thumb brushing your bottom lip. without another word, she leans in and kisses you.
it’s slow at first, almost teasing, her lips soft and warm against yours. then she deepens it, tongue slipping into your mouth like she’s reminding you exactly what you’ve been missing. you can’t help the small sound that escapes you when she sucks lightly on your tongue.
when she finally pulls back just enough to speak, her breath fans over your wet lips.
“you missed it, didn’t you?” she murmurs. her fingers slide into your hair, tugging gently. “missed the way i kiss you.” she nips at your bottom lip. “my hands on you… the way we used to mess around at parties?
you feel your face heat up, embarrassment and want mixing together. shoko smiles against your mouth, clearly enjoying how flustered you are. suguru watches the two of you from the other side of the couch, a small amused smile playing on his lips.
“it’s okay,” she whispers, kissing you again, slower this time. “you don’t have to lie to me, baby.”
the kiss quickly turns deeper. shoko’s tongue slides against yours, while her hand slips under your shirt, palm warm against your stomach, and you shiver. she smiles into the kiss when she feels it.
without breaking away, shoko reaches for the hem of her own shirt and tugs it off. her bra is simple and black, but it looks perfect on her. she tosses the shirt aside and immediately returns to your mouth, kissing you harder now, more eager.
“your turn,” she murmurs against your lips.
her fingers are gentle but sure as she pulls your shirt up and over your head. the cool air hits your skin, making you feel exposed, but shoko doesn’t let you dwell on it. she kisses you again, deeper, while her hands roam over your bare waist and up to your chest. she squeezes your breasts through your bra, thumbs brushing over your nipples until they harden.
“so pretty,” she breathes. “always so pretty for me.”
you’re both breathing heavier when shoko pulls back just enough to look at suguru.
“she can join, right?” she asks, voice husky but soft.
suguru’s eyes go dark and he nods once. “yeah. come here.”
shoko grins and takes your hand, guiding you both toward him. suguru shifts on the couch, spreading his legs wider so there’s room. he pulls shoko onto his lap first, then gently tugs you until you’re straddling one of his thighs, facing shoko.
now you’re both on suguru’s lap—chest to chest, knees bracketing his thick thighs. shoko doesn’t waste time. she cups your face and kisses you again. your breasts press together, only thin fabric separating you. you can feel the heat of suguru’s body beside you, his hands resting lightly on both your waists.
suguru’s his gaze is heavy as shoko’s tongue slides into your mouth and you moan softly. then his hands start moving—one palm strokes up shoko’s back while the other caresses your side, thumb brushing just under your breast.
shoko breaks the kiss only to trail her lips along your jaw, then down to your neck. you tilt your head, gasping when she sucks lightly on your neck. suguru’s hand slides higher, finally cupping your breast from behind, squeezing gently while shoko kisses lower.
“look at you two,” suguru murmurs. “so fucking pretty together.”
his other hand rests on shoko’s hip, encouraging her as she rocks against his thigh. you’re both breathing hard, lips swollen, skin flushed. shoko pulls you back into another deep kiss, tongues tangling messily while suguru’s hands explore—one kneading your breast, the other sliding down shoko’s spine.
you feel surrounded. wanted. the jealousy from earlier slowly melts into something hotter, sweeter.
shoko smiles against your mouth and whispers, “missed you so much, baby.”
while you’re still lost in shoko’s kiss, suguru leans closer. his lips find the side of your neck. he presses open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin, tongue tracing lightly as he sucks gentle marks. you whimper into shoko’s mouth, their caresses making your head spin.
suguru kisses down your shoulder, then hooks his fingers into the front of your bra and tugs it down, freeing your breasts. before you can even gasp, his hot mouth closes around your nipple.
you moan loudly, back arching instinctively. suguru sucks gently at first, then harder, tongue flicking over the sensitive bud. the wet heat of his mouth combined with the slight scrape of his teeth makes your thighs shake.
shoko finally pulls back from the kiss just enough to look down between you. her eyes darken when she sees suguru’s mouth on your tit.
“fuck, that’s hot,” she breathes.
shoko watches the whole thing with dark, hooded eyes. she slides one hand down your stomach, fingers teasing the waistband of your pants. “can i touch you here?” she asks and when you nod desperately, she doesn’t hesitate.
shoko slips her hand inside your pants. her fingers immediately find how wet you already are, and she lets out a satisfied sound. “fuck… you’re so wet,” she says. “all this just for us?”
her middle finger drags slowly through your folds, gathering wetness before circling your clit with light, teasing strokes. when you twitch against her she kisses you again. shoko smiles against your lips. “so sensitive tonight.”
after a moment, shoko slides one finger lower and pushes it inside you, curling it slowly. you clench around her instantly, hips twitching forward into her hand. she adds a second finger, thrusting them in and out at a steady pace while her thumb keeps rubbing your clit.
“that’s it,” she whispers, kissing the corner of your mouth. “ride my fingers, baby. let us hear how good it feels.” shoko’s pace quickens slightly, fingers curling perfectly against that spot inside you with every thrust while she kisses you again and again, swallowing your moans.
at some point the night blurred into a haze of pleasure. you’re still on suguru’s lap, back pressed to his chest, completely drunk on them both. shoko’s fingers have been inside you for what feels like hours—curling, thrusting, rubbing your clit until you’re shaking and sobbing through another orgasm. every time you think you can’t take any more, suguru’s big hand wraps loosely around your throat, holding you in place while shoko pushes you over the edge again.
you’re their perfect little plaything tonight, and you’ve stopped pretending you want anything else.
when shoko finally pulls her fingers out, you whine at the loss, body twitching. she just smiles and brings her slick fingers to her own mouth to taste you. “she’s ready,” shoko says softly as she looks at suguru.
suguru doesn’t need to be told twice. he shifts you forward on the couch so you’re on your hands and knees, still facing shoko. his large hands grip your hips, pulling your ass back toward him. you hear the sound of his belt and zipper, then feel the blunt, fat head of his cock pressing against your soaked entrance.
shoko watches with amusement, kneeling in front of you on the couch. she takes both of your hands in hers, lacing your fingers together tightly.
“breathe, baby,” she murmurs, thumbs stroking the back of your hands. “let him in.”
suguru pushes forward and the stretch is immediate and intense. his cock is thick—much thicker than shoko’s fingers—and you feel every inch as he slowly sinks into you from behind. your mouth falls open, eyes wide as the burn blooms deep inside you. he’s so big it almost hurts, but the pleasure is hotter.
“fuck… so tight,” suguru groans lowly, voice strained as he bottoms out, hips flush against your ass.
shoko’s smile widens, clearly enjoying the way your face twists. she leans in and kisses your open mouth, swallowing the moan that finally escapes you.
“look at you,” she coos against your lips, still holding your hands. “taking his cock so well. your pretty little mouth falling open like that… so cute.”
suguru starts moving—slow, deep thrusts that rock your entire body forward with every snap of his hips. every time he drives back in, your tits bounce and your breath catches. shoko stays right there, holding both your hands firmly so you have something to anchor yourself to while suguru fucks you from behind.
“that’s it,” shoko whispers, eyes locked on your face. “let him fuck you. rock forward for me, baby… just like that.”
you do exactly what she says, pushing back to meet suguru’s thrusts and rocking forward into shoko’s space with every movement. she keeps watching, mesmerized, occasionally leaning in to kiss you while suguru’s pace gradually turns harder, deeper.
the wet sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mixed with your moans and suguru’s grunts. shoko never lets go of your hands, squeezing them tighter every time suguru hits that perfect spot inside you and makes your eyes roll back.
“good girl,” suguru growls from behind, one hand sliding up to grip your hair gently. “taking me so fucking well.”
shoko laughs softly, pressing another kiss to your parted lips. “keep moaning like that,” she teases. “i could watch you get fucked by him all night.”
after a while, suguru slows his thrusts and pulls out with a wet sound. you whine at the sudden emptiness, but he’s already manhandling you gently, turning you around to face him. “come here.” he sits back on the couch and pulls you onto his lap so you’re straddling him, chest to chest. “ride me.”
you’re so drunk on pleasure that you barely register how quickly you obey. your hands brace on his broad shoulders as you sink down onto his thick cock again. the stretch is still intense, but your body is so wet and used that he slides in easier this time.
shoko settles on one of suguru’s thick thighs so she’s pressed flush against your back. her bare breasts are hot against your skin, nipples hard as they brush along your spine. one of her arms wraps around your waist while her other hand slides down between your bodies.
“keep riding him, baby,” she whispers right against your ear. “let me feel you.”
you start moving—slow, shaky rolls of your hips as you ride suguru’s cock. every time you sink down, he groans deeply, hands gripping your thighs to help guide you. shoko’s fingers find your clit from behind, rubbing slick circles while she grinds herself against suguru’s thigh, her soaked pussy sliding wetly over his skin.
shoko’s warm breasts press tighter against your back with every roll of her hips. her breath is hot on your neck as she kisses and bites gently along your shoulder. her fingers never stop teasing your clit, occasionally dipping lower to feel where suguru’s thick cock stretches you open.
you’re completely drunk on them. your mind has gone hazy, eyes half-lidded, lips parted as soft, helpless moans keep falling from your mouth. you barely register anything except the heat, the stretch, and the constant pleasure.
“so good,” suguru groans. his hands squeeze your hips, helping you bounce on him harder. “look at you… taking my cock so deep.”
shoko hums in agreement, pressing her chest firmer against your back as she grinds faster on his thigh. her fingers move quicker on your clit, slick sounds filling the air.
“she’s so out of it,” shoko laughs softly, kissing the back of your neck. “completely drunk on us. aren’t you, baby? just letting us use this pretty body however we like.”
you can only whimper in response, head falling back against shoko’s shoulder as you keep riding suguru.
“tell us how you like it, baby,” suguru says. “you want it deeper? faster?”
shoko leans in closer, lips brushing your ear from behind. “yeah… use your words,” she teases softly. “tell us what feels good. you want me to keep playing with your pretty clit while you ride his cock?”
you try to answer.
your mouth opens, but only a soft, hazy whimper comes out. your mind is too foggy, body too overwhelmed with pleasure. every nerve is sparking, your thoughts melted into nothing but heat and the feeling of being used so perfectly between them. you can barely form a single coherent word.
“i… ah— i…” is all you manage.
shoko lets out a quiet, fond laugh against your neck. “aww, listen to her,” she coos, clearly amused by how gone you are. “can’t even speak anymore. so cute.”
she slides her free hand up to cup your jaw, gently turning your face toward her. she kisses you again. her tongue slips into your mouth, tasting every helpless little sound you make while suguru keeps rocking you steadily on his cock.
“it’s okay, baby,” she whispers, thumb brushing your bottom lip. “you don’t have to say anything. we already know exactly what you need.”
suguru leans forward to kiss your collarbone, then looks up at shoko with dark eyes. “she’s clenching so hard around me. keep touching her. i want to feel her cum on my cock.”
shoko smiles against your skin and circles your clit faster. “don’t worry,” she purrs, voice dripping with heat. “we’re nowhere near done with her yet.”
sometime later, you’re completely spent.
your body has gone limp, limbs heavy and trembling from the endless waves of pleasure. you’ve lost count of how many times they made you cum—on suguru’s cock, on shoko’s fingers, between their mouths and hands. every inch of you feels used, warm, and satisfied in the best kind of way.
you barely have the strength to keep your eyes open anymore.
shoko notices first. she presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, brushing damp strands of hair away from your face. “you’re done, huh?” she whispers fondly, voice still a little breathless. “poor baby… we wore you out.”
you manage a tiny, hazy nod, eyes already fluttering shut. the last thing you feel is shoko carefully pulling you down onto the couch, laying you on your side so you’re comfortable. she tucks a blanket over your naked body.
“sleep. we’ve got you.”
your eyelids grow heavier. the world starts to fade. through the sleepy haze, you catch the soft sounds beside you.
shoko lets out a quiet moan as suguru pulls her closer. you barely manage to crack your eyes open just enough to see them. suguru has shoko on her back right next to you, his large body covering hers. he’s kissing her deeply, while he pushes inside her.
shoko’s back arches, a soft gasp escaping her lips as she wraps her legs around his waist. “suguru…”
he groans low in his throat, hips starting to move in deep, steady strokes. the wet sound of skin meeting skin fills the quiet room again. suguru’s hand slides up to cup shoko’s breast, thumb brushing over her nipple as he fucks her right there beside you.
shoko turns her head slightly, eyes half-lidded, and looks at your sleepy face. even as suguru thrusts into her, she reaches out and gently laces her fingers with yours, holding your hand while she gets fucked.
“goodnight, baby,” she whispers to you, voice sweet even as it breaks into a moan.
you can’t answer anymore. your eyes finally slip shut completely, the last image burned gently into your mind: suguru’s broad back moving over shoko, her hand warm in yours, the quiet sounds of them making love right beside you.
it feels strangely comforting.
you fall asleep like that—exhausted, satisfied, and wrapped in the soft afterglow of being theirs, even if only for tonight. the steady rhythm of suguru’s hips and shoko’s breathy moans lull you deeper into sleep, their presence safe beside you.
𓏲˚ ۪ ❤︎⊹. Older!Nanami trying to understand his younger!gf
“Explain it to me again, darling.” Your husband says in confusion, sleep laced in his voice and making it sound even deeper. “You are crying because your teddy fell on the floor?”
“No! I’m crying because our child fell to her death and neither of us were there to save her,” you defend quickly, brows furrowing as you pout, gaze fixed on Nanami as your arms remain firmly wrapped around the soft toy.
Even in the dark room, you could see the utter confusion on his face, blinking sleepily before looking at the time. “Okay, darling. Well, she’s safe now, yeah? You can cuddle her to sleep again and I’m sure she’ll forgive you.”
You don’t budge from your seated position, the occasional tear still slipping down your cheeks. You frown. You wanted to protest that you weren’t a child despite him treating you like one but truthfully, what he said comforted you more than what anything else would have done.
With a huff, you slip underneath the covers again and snuggle into Kento, burying your head deep into his warm chest.
“We will cuddle her to sleep. And she will forgive us.”
“Of course, my darling. I’ll make her breakfast tomorrow as well,” he mumbles, delirious from lack of sleep.
A few days later, your teddy somehow manages to interfere with Nanami’s love life again. First cuddling, now sex.
“Nghh- kenny you feel sooo good,” you babble and grip the pillow in front of you, eyes rolling into the back of your head in pleasure. In speedbump, Nanami leans over you and presses his chest against your back, groaning right next to your ear as his hips thrust at a consistent pace.
When you lift your head again and look to the right, you see your teddy staring at you. Cute, innocent eyes having to witness such a vulgar act.
You reach one hand back, clumsily tapping Nanami on the side as you try and form a coherent sentence. “Ken… can you- hmgh- kenny move her.”
Nanami follows your gaze to the teddy sat on the side of the bed. His movements slow down to a stop. “Move her?”
You nod. “Mhm. She can’t watch us.”
“Darling, it’s a teddy.”
You whip your head around to glare at him. “So? That’s our child. We can’t traumatise her by having sex in front of her. Just turn her around.”
Nanami quietly sighs before leaning over and turning the teddy one-eighty degrees. “Is that better?”
Oooh what about a Dark!Daddy!Clark? Maybe he likes a cute little intern at the Daily Planet and he obsesses and manipulates her into ddlg-esk relationship and she’s none the wiser??
If I’m not making sense, ignore me, pookie. I’m glad you’re back!!!!
𝚎𝚡𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 | 𝐜.𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐭
pairing: Dark!Clark Kent x Reader
synopsis: You're a nervous intern at the Daily Planet, struggling to keep it together. Clark Kent watches quietly until his protection becomes possession.
warnings: +18, daddy/caretaker dynamic, obsession, infantilization, emotional manipulation, dubcon, shy reader with low self-esteem, age gap, possession, disturbing dynamics, minimal editing, proceed with caution.
word count: 2.3k (one-shot)
It starts small. So subtle that Clark hardly knows he’s doing it in the first place. You’re just so scattered. Overwhelmed.
He’s there at the elevator whenever you scramble out of it, carrying all your belongings and two drink carriers full of hot coffee. You rush out a few nervous thank-yous, and your lips part in shock when he grabs the drinks and your heavy workbag too.
Despite your job description, he doesn’t like to see you lifting a finger.
When he’s not working, he watches you from across the bullpen while you sit at your cluttered desk. You’re always in some shade of pastel, a knit cardigan, curly hair adorned with colorful hairpins or bows. Your socks always reach up to your shins, and on the days when you’re the most tired, you don’t notice that they aren’t matching.
He dislikes that Perry expects you to fetch coffee for the entire staff, and he hates it even more when you bring some sad excuse for a lunch in your strawberry-patterned lunchbox. Almost everyone leaves for lunch. You, a struggling student, always turn Jimmy down when he invites you. You don’t have the money, Clark assumes, so he joins you in the breakroom a few times a week.
When you whip out the same peanut butter sandwich and apple that you always bring, Clark sees the way your face falls.
“You okay, sweetheart?” he asks, and your heart quickens.
“Just tired.” You nod, then nervously tap at the table.
“Here,” he offers you half of his favorite sub sandwich he orders at the deli on the next block. “I’m not going to eat all of it.”
Your lips part to protest as he lays it out in front of you. “Clark, you don’t—”
“You look hungry,” he adds. “Did you eat breakfast?”
“Yes,” you answer quietly. His blue eyes are focused on you. Hard. Expecting. “…No.”
You find that the truth slips through your lips before he has a chance to question you further. “Y/N.”
“I had coffee,” you say next. “I have to get up at 4:30 if I want to catch the earliest train into the city, and sometimes I forget.”
Clark nods, understanding, although his mind is already working toward a solution.
After that, he shares his lunch with you when he can. When you get to work, there is always breakfast waiting for you. A breakfast sandwich from the deli or a Tupperware with homemade pancakes. It doesn’t take you long to put the dots together. When you thank him, he never answers directly.
“You didn’t have to.”
“I wanted to.”
“But—”
“You have to eat breakfast.”
“But you don’t—”
“And lunch. And dinner. I don’t want to find out you’re still skipping meals.”
Your lips press into a thin line then. It’s the first time he’s seen you frustrated. Embarrassed, even. Your brows furrow, and you turn in your pink ballet flats and walk away from his desk.
The thought crosses his mind that he should back off then. Give you your space. And he tries. Really tries. But you are so needy. So much more needy than he even realized.
He follows you home. Your tiny studio apartment that you’ve made into a home, but that doesn’t make it any safer or less cheaply built. He checks on you most nights, makes sure you’re tucked into bed, although you stay up way too late working on assignments for Perry.
The night he hears you crying behind the bathroom door at work, he nearly loses control. It takes everything in him not to storm into Perry’s office and toss him off the roof of the Planet.
He doesn’t, of course.
He waits until everyone clears from the office. You emerge from the bathroom as the sunset illuminates the room in shades of red. You clutch your heart, frightened, when you find him waiting for you. You wipe under your eyes quickly, but there’s no hiding from Clark.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Please, Clark.”
“Tell me what’s wrong, sweetheart. I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me.”
Clark can feel how fast your heart is beating. He closes the distance between the two of you, one hand finding the small of your back and the other cradling your neck. Your lips tremble and your sweater sleeves pull down over your fists.
“Clark—” you hiccup, and the tears start to fall again. “I just… I-I—”
He thinks of how badly he wants you not to call him Clark in this moment. He’s been telling himself not to rush this. It will take time. “You’re okay,” he says, deep and soothing. “You’re being so brave.”
You blink up at him through the tears. “He… h-he ripped into my article. The final one. For my class. He’s hated every draft I sent him and it’s due at midnight,” your voice cracks, high and thin. “I think he’s gonna fail me. On my review. I-I worked so hard to get this internship, Clark.”
Clark’s jaw tightens. “I know you did, sweetheart,” he says, stroking your cheek with his thumb.
“It doesn’t matter,” you shake your head. “I’m not a good writer. I-I’d be a t-terrible journalist.”
Clark’s eyes darken as he looks down at you. He sees you crawling inside yourself. Retreating. He doesn’t think as he lifts you off your feet, wrapping strong arms around your torso, before he carries you toward his desk.
Your body tenses, though you don’t protest. Your eyes only widen, and you go quiet. You have no sense of fight or flight. He understands that your first instinct will always be to freeze. His entire purpose in life is to protect people like you.
“Wh-what are you doing?” Clark takes a seat at the desk before he settles you into his lap. You wiggle, but he holds you tightly. It feels like pushing at a steel door. You hadn’t realized he’d feel so… heavy.
He rolls his chair closer to the desk, effectively trapping you in, and he opens his laptop, your back pressed against his chest. In your ear, you hear him say, “I’ll help you rewrite the article.”
“What—”
“I know what Perry is looking for. I can help you clean it up.”
“I’ll miss my train.”
Clark pauses for a moment. He clicks his teeth. “I’ll take you home.”
“Oh…” What choice do you have? “Okay.”
His voice lowers, soft but firm. “Relax.”
“I’m trying,” you sniffle.
“Good girl,” he whispers.
Clark is a man of his word. He helps you write the ten thousand words in a way that Perry would approve of. He helps you with the pacing, the tone, the flow. It never crosses his mind that you’re a bad writer. Just inexperienced. He remembers being exactly where you are.
When Clark finally feels your mood lift and sees the tired smile on your lips, he isn’t willing to let you go just yet.
You were hesitant when he opened the passenger side door of a dark sedan that doesn’t match his reporter salary. You were even more hesitant standing on the threshold of his high-rise apartment. You thought he would take you to the subway station, only for him to insist that you stay in his spare room.
Noticing your hesitation, he grabs your hand and leads you forward. The door closes with a finality you weren’t quite prepared for. You turn and feel your feet trying to carry you back toward the door. Clark squeezes your hand, gentle but firm. When he notices your body start to freeze up again, he sighs, low and almost fond, before taking matters into his own hands. Literally. You let out a startled breath as he sweeps you off your feet like a bride.
He isn’t frustrated with you. He directs you like a child about to wander into the wrong room, or a pet that doesn’t know any better.
“Let’s get you out of these work clothes, okay?” he asks rhetorically, carrying you deeper into the apartment. “And then you can have a warm bath and something soft to sleep in.”
“I don’t have any other clothes, Clark.”
“Don’t worry, baby.”
Your resistance matters little to him. You expect a guest room that’s impersonal. Bare bones. Instead, you’re met with a room with cream-white walls, a cozy bed with a white, fluffy comforter, and a plush, oversized teddy bear in the corner.
“I—” You clear your throat. “Is this a kid’s room?”
“No,” he answers as he sets you onto your feet. “I just wanted it to be… comforting.”
Clark’s lips part to explain further, but out of the corner of your eye, you spot a tall bookshelf. “You have The Secret Garden and A Little Princess,” you say. Clark watches how your eyes light up and how you pad over the soft carpet. “I’ve never seen these editions before. They are so pretty. Look at these pink flowers.”
His hulking figure shadows you as he reaches past, taking The Secret Garden off the shelf for you.
“I don’t know,” you say instead of taking it, but he grabs your hand, lifts it, and places the book in your palm. “You like these books?”
“I know you like them,” he answers casually, and your mind skips over the absurdity of the situation because next you notice a line of figurines that look like fairies on the shelf below them.
“Look around and get comfortable, sweetheart,” he says. “I’ll start your bath.”
You gasp softly as you lean down, studying a woodland fairy with so many delicate, adorable details.
Every detail in the room is perfect. There are even fairy lights hanging near the windows. Just like the ones you have hanging in your apartment. And on the nightstand?
A Hello Kitty nightlight.
The exact one from your Amazon cart. The one you’d bookmarked and rebookmarked, hovered over for months, but never bought.
“You ready?” Clark asks, snapping you from your daze. Your lips part to answer, only to realize his question is, once again, rhetorical. With a hand on your lower back, he guides you toward the attached bathroom.
The lights are dimmed to a golden hue, and the tub is filled with bubbles. A soft towel sits on the bathroom counter, and a pair of neatly folded pajamas rests right next to it. You glance at the older, taller man and realize he’s removed his glasses. You almost do a double-take, your eyes focusing on his features, and he’s almost unrecognizable.
You’re not sure if it’s the lack of sleep or the fact that this all feels like a fever dream, but you can’t help but let this happen to you.
“You’ve been working so hard, haven’t you?” It doesn’t help that his voice is deep and melodic. You look down at his fingers as he gently undoes each button of your cardigan. “Let me do this for you. Let Daddy take care of you.”
Daddy.
The word touches you somewhere deep. An embarrassing place.
“I don’t need you to,” you say, although you aren’t convincing. And now he’s undoing the buttons of your khaki skirt.
“Let me,” he says again, softer this time, like he’s reassuring you.
Isn’t that what you’re doing? Shaking like a leaf and letting him get you naked? It’s done with such care. His touch doesn’t wander in the slightest. It’s almost clinical. He rolls up the sleeves of his dress shirt, and the glimpse of his arms—thick and muscled—makes your eyes widen. How had you missed this before? You’ve never felt intimidated by Clark until now. Never felt how much power radiated from him.
“I-I shouldn’t have come,” you stutter out, mostly to yourself. “I’m imposing,” you add next, politely.
He gives you a knowing look. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. I wouldn’t have taken no for an answer.”
It’s good to know. It’s reassuring. It isn’t completely your fault that this is happening. You cover yourself with your hands when he’s fully undressed you.
He guides you closer to the clawfoot tub and keeps you steady as you step into the warm water. His invasion of your personal space doesn’t stop there. You’re not sure if he understands the concept anymore. His hands are already reaching for the soap. He kneels beside the bath and continues to look at you like you’re the most fragile thing he’s ever seen. You look down then. You don’t meet his eyes as he runs a washcloth over every inch of your skin.
He notices.
“I know you don’t understand it yet,” Clark says. “But you will. You don’t have to do anything but let me take care of you.”
You focus on the warmth. The comfort in his voice. You realize you have to or else your heart will jump out of your chest.
“Relax.” He says that word again. Your eyes focus on him again as his fingers sink between your legs. A large hand against a small area. His palm presses against your lower belly. He spreads your folds, and everything in your body tenses.
Determined, focused blue eyes stare back at you. “Clark—” you rush out, and your small hands wrap around his arm. His arm doesn’t move as you push. It doesn’t even tremble beneath your grasp. “Clark, please. P-Please—oh my—”
“I’m not trying to scare you,” he says. “But I will be firm with you. You need that, don’t you?”
Your eyes flutter as your body trembles.
His movements are so precise. Large circles, and then small, concentrated ones. Your chest heaves as your head tilts back. It’s almost as clinical as when he was undressing you. It’s something he has to do. He’s treating the act like a mission that needs to be accomplished. A step in a nightly routine.
Now you’re dizzy. The act doesn’t take longer than two minutes. He applies the exact right pressure. It’s almost painful how your orgasm rips through your body. It's embarrassing how quickly it happens. “That’s it,” you hear him say. You gasp for air in between your moans. Now you’re holding onto him instead of futilely pushing at him. “Good girl, sweetheart. You needed that, didn’t you?”
He takes your silence and shaking body as a sufficient answer.
“Let’s get you dressed and tucked in, sweetheart. Big day for us tomorrow.”
Friends with benefits!Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley who won’t look you in the eyes during sex, fucks you in a doggy and pushes your face into the pillow because absolutely no emotion can be involved.
Friends with benefits!Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley who fucks you in missionary, slow and deep, when he comes back from an assignment, forehead pressed to yours, making you hold eye contact with him the entire time because he needs to feel something real.
᭡୧ tinder match!toji.. is much more perverted than you think
cw, ( sizekink, agegap, pervy toji, praising.. )
toji’s tall frame folds over you completely on the hotel bed, his broad chest pressing flush to your back as he sinks in another inch, thick cock splitting you open so slow and deliberate you feel every vein dragging along your walls.
he’s bigger than you imagined from the pictures, older and solid in that quiet unholy way, shoulders wide enough to block out the lamp light while his hips rock forward and stuff you full until your belly feels tight with him.
“fuck, you’re tiny,” he mutters against the back of your neck, voice low and rough like he’s been thinking about this for weeks.
one of his huge hands splays across your lower back, pinning you down while the other grips your hip, fingers digging in just enough to remind you how easily he could hold you still. you’re dripping already, slick coating his shaft and running down your thighs every time he pulls back and pushes in deeper, the wet sound of it loud in the quiet room.
he’s not rushing. toji fucks like he’s got all night, like he wants you to feel exactly how much bigger he is, how his cock stretches you to the limit until your pussy flutters around him helplessly.
your face is buried in the pillow, ass up, back arched under his weight, and he just keeps grinding in slow circles, letting you adjust before he drags out and slams back home. the slap of skin on skin fills the space between your shaky breaths, his heavy balls pressing against you every time he bottoms out.
“that’s it, sweetheart,” he breathes, lips brushing your ear as he leans down heavier, cock buried to the hilt.
“taking me so well. knew you would the second i saw how pretty and good you looked in those pictures, my good girl.” his hand slides up your side, palm huge against your ribs, thumb stroking just under the curve of your breast while he starts fucking you harder, deeper, the bed creaking under the steady rhythm.
you moan into the sheets, fingers twisting in them as he hits that spot inside you over and over, making your thighs shake. he’s so deep it feels like he’s in your stomach, stretching you wide and full in a way no one else ever has, and the size difference only makes it hotter. his body completely covers yours, muscled arms braced on either side of your head, sweat slicking his chest where it slides against your back.
toji groans low when you clench around him, hips snapping forward sharper now, chasing that tight heat. “such a good girl,” he praises, voice wrecked, free hand slipping between your legs to rub slow circles over your clit. “come on. want to feel this little pussy come all over my cock. been thinking about ruining you since you sent that first message.”
your orgasm hits hard, sudden, walls pulsing tight around his thick length as you cry out into the pillow. he doesn’t stop, just fucks you through it, slower but deeper, drawing it out until you’re trembling under him. only then does he let himself go, burying himself to the base and staying there while he comes, hot and thick, filling you so full it leaks out around him when he finally shifts.
he stays draped over you for a long moment, breathing hard against your shoulder, cock still twitching inside you. “we’re not done yet,” he murmurs, pressing a lazy kiss to your skin. “not until i’ve had you every way that pretty body can take me.”
gojo is addicted to filming you while fucking. . .
gojo satoru is addicted to filming you.
it started innocently enough—or as innocent as anything ever is with him. one lazy sunday morning when you were still half-asleep and riding him slow, he grabbed his phone from the nightstand with that mischievous grin and whispered, “just one video, baby. for my eyes only. i wanna watch how pretty you look when you come on my cock.”
you said yes.
now it’s become a ritual.
every time he fucks you, the phone comes out. sometimes he sets it up on the tripod in the corner of the bedroom so it captures everything in wide angle. sometimes he holds it himself, filming close-ups of his thick cock stretching your pussy open, the way your tits bounce with every thrust, the messy slick coating his shaft when he pulls out just to push back in deeper.
he loves the sounds most of all.
“listen to that,” he’ll groan, angling the camera down between your bodies so the microphone catches the wet, filthy squelch every time he bottoms out. “hear how sloppy your pussy gets for me? fuck, baby, you’re dripping down my balls.”
he always makes sure to get your face too—the way your eyes roll back, the way your mouth falls open when he hits that spot inside you, the broken moans and whimpers of his name that spill out when you’re close.
“say it louder,” he’ll demand, voice rough as he fucks you harder, free hand gripping your thigh to spread you wider for the camera. “tell the camera who’s making you feel this good. who owns this tight little cunt.”
you always give in. “you do, satoru—fuck—only you—”
he saves every single video.
they’re stored in a heavily encrypted folder on his phone titled “private collection🤍” with a little heart emoji he thinks is subtle. there are dozens now. some are short clips of you sucking him off in the back of the car after a mission. some are long, hour-long tapes where he edges you for ages before finally letting you come. there’s even one from the time he fucked you against the floor-to-ceiling window in his penthouse while the city lights glittered behind you.
he watches them when you’re away.
when you’re on a solo mission, or visiting family, or just busy with work that keeps you late. he’ll lock himself in his bedroom, pull up the folder, and pick one at random. sometimes it’s the one where you’re riding him reverse cowgirl, ass bouncing as you take every inch. sometimes it’s the one where he has you folded in half, legs over his shoulders, pounding you so deep the camera catches the bulge in your lower belly.
he strokes himself slow at first, matching the rhythm on the screen, groaning your name under his breath. “fuck, look at you… taking me so well even when i’m not there.”
his hand speeds up as the video gets filthier. he loves the parts where you beg—when you’re crying and whimpering “please, satoru, fill me up, i need your cum.” he always comes hard to those, thick ropes spilling over his fist while he watches himself breed you on the screen.
after he finishes, he doesn’t delete anything. he just saves the new load of cum on his fingers and sends you a quick text:
“miss you. watched our video from last thursday. you looked so pretty crying on my cock. can’t wait to make a new one when you get home.”
you always reply with something flustered and needy, and he grins like an idiot, already planning the next tape.
sometimes he gets bold.
he’ll send you short clips while you’re at work—a ten-second snippet of him thrusting into you from behind, his hand fisting your hair, the sound of skin slapping skin loud and clear. the message always comes with the same caption:
“thinking about you. hurry home so we can film the sequel.”
he never pressures you to let him post them or share them. these videos are strictly for him—his private collection, his dirty little secret. he watches them when he’s stressed after a long day, when he’s horny and you’re not around, when he just wants to relive how perfect you feel wrapped around him.
and every time he films a new one, he makes sure to whisper against your lips right before he starts recording:
“smile for the camera, baby. gonna watch this one later when i’m all alone and missing this tight pussy.”
then he fucks you like he’s trying to make sure the next video is even better than the last.
because gojo satoru doesn’t just love fucking you.
he loves keeping every single moment of it forever.
so he can watch you fall apart for him again and again.
tw: descriptive discussions of eating disordersC, weight/weight loss, and sickly bodies.
please, please, please read at your own risk. this is a very sensitive topic and i only want the best for everyone who engages. take care of yourself and be mindful of what you can or cannot handle. i love you all so, so much🫶
word count: 1,572
i feel like clark with reader with an eating disorder would be so sweet, now hear me out✋🤚(so self-indulgent).
it starts out small, things he doesn't even notice. you walk in with a coffee only, no pastry, no bagel, no eggs; nothing.
at lunch, you sip on another coffee, or a tea, or an energy drink. sometimes you'll pop a grape in your mouth or nibble on some carrots. clark just thinks you're eating healthy.
he noticed something is off when he comes over to your house one night and gets hungry. he looks for a snack and your cabinets are empty. "What do you eat?", he'd ask, half joking. When you shrug avoidantly and say "I don't really get that hungry when I'm home," he decides to mark that moment in his brain.
he'll start offering you bites of his food or he'll drop off a snack or a full meal, hoping you'll bite but you never do. he finds it tucked away in your desk or covered by papers in the trashcan. another thing he marks down.
then comes the fatigue. at work, your eye lids are heavy and you can barely keep them all the way open. your breathing is slow but heavy, your heart rate dropping every day. he notices your slight wobble when you first get up or after you've been standing for too long. one time you stand up so fast from your desk, you almost fall over completely. "Woah there!" Clark would yelp as you stumbled, his firm hands grasping your waist to steady you. When you quickly scramble from his hold and thank him before waking away quite swiftly, he's struck by confusion and intrigue.
when you start turning down dinner dates or making excuses as to why you can't attend a work gathering, the whole crew starts to wonder what's going on. it's lois who finally asks clark. "Dude, what's going on with Y/N? I haven't seen her smile in ages." Clark has to tell her that he has no idea. that you won't talk to him. tell him the truth.
then comes visible weight loss. your clothes stop sitting right. things catch onto your bones to stay up?, barely hanging on. your skin turns pale, your face looks sunken in and solemn. when clark hugs you or holds you, he feels how much lighter and thinner you are, and to him, you were already featherweight. he decides he needs to say something after a specific encounter.
a work gala. not a dinner, per se, but a ball. it was something you couldn't get out of, not with your position at the planet. you've decided on a backless gown. it was a beautiful black color with a tie around the neck. you look stunning in the dress but it showed the thinness of your body. the immeasurably low percentage of fat. your shoulder blades stuck out, your ribs were shadowed, your shoulders were sharp. it was alarming to everybody. everyone was looking, everyone knew but no one dared to say anything.
clark noticed too; it was the first thing he saw. he thought you looked beautiful, of course, but you looked tired. you looked beat. you looked sickly. that wasn't the woman he fell in love with. he loved this one too, but they weren't the same person. that wasn't the only thing.
when you'd had a few too many drinks on an empty stomach that night, you found him in the crowd. "Clark?" your voice was fragile, threatening to break with every syllable. you latched onto his bicep, tiny hands looking even smaller on him, "I don't feel very good. Can you take me home?" your pulse was uneven and faint, chest heaving slowly. when he looked down he saw the lines of your sternum and the protrusion of your collar bones. the eye contact he made with you felt final. knowing. guilty. he nodded, wrapping an arm around your shrinking waist, and excused himself from the conversation.
walking to his car was no different. you were shivering, regardless of the fact that it was the dead of summer and you'd been drinking all night, so he gave you his suit jacket. it was big on you to begin with but now? now you looked like a child in it. the ride was silent, his hand rubbing soothing circles into your knee over your dress as he drove. your head pressed against the cold window to keep yourself from throwing up. eventually you fell asleep.
he'd look over at you as you slept, putting the car in park outside of his apartment. he'd see the hook of your jaw, so defined it seems like it hurt. he'd could see very tendon in your neck, every groove of your skull in your cheeks. you were withering away and he was scared that he noticed too late. he'd get out of the car, walk over to your side and unbuckle your seatbelt. he'd slide his arms under your body, cradling you into his chest, and carry you into the building. it felt like holding a toothpick. one that was dry and could snap at any second if he wasn't careful.
that's what you'd wake up to. the gentle thumping of his healthy heart and the rhythmic clicking of his dress shoes on the floor. at some point, you're not sure how, physically, he'd shifted to carry you in one arm, using the other to open the door. vision blurry and head heavy, you'd slump against his chest, finally giving in to him.
he'd walk you into his room and lay you gently on his bed, watching it barely dip and not hearing the usual creaking of the old frame. all things he knew weren't normal. he'd bend on one knee and unbuckle your heels, once they're off he'd squeezed your bony and tiny ankles, noticing how his hold hand wraps around them completely and then some. he'd walk to his closet and grab you something to sleep in; a pair of panties you'd left and one of his sweatshirts. but he'd have to get you naked.
without exchanging any words, only knowing looks and familiar nods, he'd untie the strap around your neck and peel the gown from your body. he'd avert his eyes for some time, wanting to respect your privacy, but he can't avoid it. when he reached to remove your underwear, he has to face what he's been so scared to see. it's what he doesn't see.
he doesn't see the softness of your hips; he sees the rigidness of bone. he doesn't see the gentle curve of your waist; he sees an exposed rib age and the natural barriers of your abdomen. he doesn't see the plushness of your thighs that he loves to lay on; he sees separate femurs, nothing to grab but skin and bone.
"Baby..." he'd murmured gently, brushing a thumb over your ribs and feeling the ridges. his eyes would jump around, seeing what used to be, then what's left. "Y/N girl, my beautiful angel, what did you do?" he'd ask, more to himself than you. tears would well up in his own eyes so quickly that he wouldn't notice the silent ones falling from yours.
"I'm sorry," you'd whisper with a broken voice. his eyes would snap up at your apology, almost looking angry. "No," he'd say, reaching up to hold your face with both hands, "No," he'd continue, putting a knee on the bed and leaning down to see you. "No, you don't apologize. You don't have to be sorry, I never want to hear you say that again, okay?" you'd just nod as more tears fell, which he'd make quick work of wiping away and kissing the stained skin. "I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't notice, I'm sorry I didn't help you, I'm sorry I made you feel like you had to do this. I'm sorry."
he'd wrap an arm around your back, pulling your naked body into his fully clothed one. he'd squeeze you tightly, but so gently, afraid to break you. he'd repeat his apologies into your neck, into your shoulder, into your hair, into your soul. he was so sorry.
he'd slowly dress you, slipping your underwear on and kissing your skin as he did. he'd throw the sweatshirt onto you, watching it slouch down your shoulder and come to your mid-thighs. you were so small. so fragile. something he should've stopped you from becoming.
that night he'd hold you against him so tight, you wondered if he'd ever let go. you slept peacefully in his embrace but he didn't sleep at all. he just laid next to your disappearing vessel for a human being and repeated the past five months in his head. did he say something? did he do something? what changed? what made her do this to herself? why did she fall into this?
the thoughts consumed him every day after as he helped her get better. with his encouragement she started eating something at lunch, but she couldn't bring herself to eat breakfast yet. it was small, just a fruit box, but it was something. when they'd go out to dinner she wouldn't just cut the food up and push it around, she'd actually take bites. she got more energy. she could stay up later. she could hold conversations again. lois would talk to clark and ask how things went. lois knew. she always did. "Clark, you're a saint. That girl was dying."
He'd tell her, "It was all Y/N. She's the strongest person I know."
