CONTENT WARNING. MDNI, fem! reader, law student! reader, lawyer higuruma, 6.9k words, age gap (24&36), fluff & smut, slow burn? game of thrones references, porn with plot, unprotected sex, office sex, rough? sex, sloppy makeouts, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, higuruma is an EATER, spit, praise, choking, pussy spanking, dirty talk, belly bulge, big dick higuruma, he loves eye contact, dacryphilia? he’s mean & cocky if you squint. enjoy! ⇢
your pen sits between your teeth as your eyes switch from the thick textbook splayed open on your kitchen island and your laptop screen.
the cursor blinks for the millionth time in your setup word document. countless words plastered in that irritating format of times new roman size twelve that you’ve done a thousand times over.
words mutter under your breath as you multitask in reading, taking notes, and applying the newfound information to your assignment.
“hey, is your prof still asking you guys to take internships?”
your roommate comes from hibernating out of her room, eyes glued to her phone as she saunters over to the kitchen.
you barely catch the words that fly out her mouth, brows furrowing as you look up from your work for the first time in hours. the swivel stool you sat on creaks as you sit up straighter, cringing from how long you held that crouching position.
“uh…. no.” you shake your head, confused as to why she brought it up. she was never the type to dwell on your life as a law student unless overhearing about a case study that seemed ‘too juicy’ to skip out on. “deadline’s like, next week so they’re just talking about the paper due the week after to describe our experience so far.”
“oh.” she says, sounding surprised. “well, did you find anything?”
you hum. “i’ve got an interview tomorrow. it’s multi-hire so i’ve got a good chance. why?”
“nothing really.” she shrugs, taking a breath as she scavenges the freezer, grabbing the first pint of ice cream she sees. “a friend of my cousin works at this law firm and i think she said they’re looking for a temp since she’s going out of the country for a while.”
you nod, chewing on the end of your pen. “send me their info. i’ll check it out.”
so that’s exactly what you do. your roommate helps you exchange information with this friend who you’ve learned to be is a young woman named shimizu. she worked as a assistant for an independent defense attorney, higuruma hiromi.
you’ve heard his name a few times from news outlets, primarily known to take on difficult cases but nonetheless highly skilled and quite honestly a prime example of what you hoped to become as far as talent.
shimizu was going overseas for a little over half a year. that’s entirely way more than what your assignment calls for but you would be paid well plus it could serve as the perfect job to strengthen your experience in law.
it didn’t take much for shimizu to hire you, her eagerness to hurry up and leave was clear. she sent you an email describing her normal routine, things to keep an eye on that higuruma normally forgets and a warning to just be patient for any cases he picks up.
naturally, you were nervous. palms sweating as you clutched your purse and tucked the folder shimizu provided tightly between your arm.
your heels clack with each step you make up into the building then finally, in bold letters, ‘higuruma law office’. you knock, looking around as you wait for a response.
“come in.”
the voice is so deep it sends chills down your spine. anxiety pools your chest as you twist the handle, making slow hesitant steps into the office.
it’s small but not cramping and fairly neat. you continue forward, making your presence known. who you assume to be higuruma sits at a chair, pen scribbling against a paper at an incredible speed.
he doesn’t look up at first, deeply sighing and too focused on the work in front of him. that is until he takes notice of your silence following your entry. his eyes immediately lift, dragging over your attire for a momentary second. “i’m sorry.” he clears his throat, standing then approaching you with his hand out. “how can i help you?”
“i… uhm… i’m y/n.” you meet his hand with a nervous smile. “i’m filling in for shimizu?” it’s embarrassing how unsure you sound as if you hadn’t met shimizu yourself telling you detail for detail about the duties of the job.
his brows furrow slightly as he slowly slips his hand from your weak grip. he checks his watch then runs his fingers through his hair. “right, right. i forgot about that…” he sighs, moreso to himself and then nods, pointing to the empty cubicle beside his. “take a seat, did shimizu already inform you on what we’re currently working on?”
you nod, carefully setting your belongings down and making yourself comfortable on the chair.
“could i see? if you don’t mind.” he stands over you, watching as you turn the monitor on with quickness and log in to your email account, surfing through the important ones you had starred before finally landing on shimizu’s.
higuruma leans over, his presence immediately makes you feel small and you can slightly feel the weight of his chest as he gently grabs the mouse from your hand.
you keep your eyes on the screen, fiddling with your fingers while he looks at the lengthy details relayed. suddenly, he takes a breath then clicks forward and slides the keyboard over.
“looks good.” he finally stands, eyes dropping down to you. “we’ll just be working on that for today. if anything changes i’ll let you know.”
for the first three weeks of working for higuruma goes the same way. coming into the office, saying hello, and him sharing any updates on the current case. some days call for extremely long hours, others are your typical. then there were days like today where you’d be traveling together and have to stay overnight at hotels.
one room, separate beds.you and higuruma hadn’t crossed that bridge of being comfortable with one another just yet. it was still awkward smiles and brief exchanges of conversation only in relation to work.
with the work day being over, you showered and decided to walk around the hotel for a bit, maybe grab a bite to eat. you also brought your textbooks and laptop so you could use the time to study for the baby bar you have coming up.
you sat at a table, eating as you focus on your studies. no more than half an hour passes when a figure approaches your table.
“mind if i sit?”
your eyes lift at the deep voice, widening for a short second as you realize it to be higuruma’s. he stands there in a plain black t-shirt and same colored plaid pajama pants with a plate of food in his hand.
it was different to see him in a more cosy state rather than being suited up. when you focus on the fact he’s still there, tilting his head as he waits on your response you sit up and nod a bit frantically.
“yes—yes, of course. please sit.” you gesture to the seat ahead of you which he takes.
it’s silent for a moment as you’re more frigid now, eyes glued to your book without reading a damn thing. higuruma pops a fry into his mouth, looking around the semi-packed dining area before returning his attention to you. “you’re still in school?”
you nod, “in my first year.”
he raises a subtle brow at that which you don’t even notice considering you’ve found it difficult to always make eye contact with him.
“first year?” he hums, chewing down on another fry. “you’re young.”
“i guess…” you laugh shyly. “it’s not like you’re old.”
he smiles at that, leaning in with his elbows on the table as he continues to take singular bites of his food. “you don’t think so? how old do you think i am?”
you shrug, finally lifting your eyes to scan the features of his face.
he was obviously older than you but you only deduced that from the way he talks and conducts himself yet he didn’t share any facial features that gave away his age.
“thirty?” you squint, not wanting to guess too high and he gets offended.
he chuckles, shaking his head. “no, but i’m honored you thought that low. i’m thirty six.”
“still young.” you smile, dropping your eyes back down.
“so what’re you learning?” he sighs, leaning back again, spreading his long legs to be more comfortable and points at your books.
“nothing really.” you mumble. “just studying for the baby bar.”
“wow…” he nods partially in shock, suddenly thinking of the age gap between you. it’s been so long since his days of staying up all day and all night long when preparing for that exam. “you think you’ve got it? i could help you out.”
you definitely don’t got it. there were still at least another two months before you’d have to take the exam. all the current information you were learning was still processing and quite honestly you had a habit of doubting your skills and weren’t sure if you’d be able to get the score you’re aiming to achieve.
you shake your head at higuruma’s offer. “no, it’s okay. you already have so much going on. i rather not add to that.”
“i’m offering.” he smiles warmly, wanting to assure that it wasn’t a big deal as he crosses his arms lazily across his chest.
it’s only for second that you ogle the surprising size of his bicep when it’s contracted. you shake your head again. “i’ll be fine. thank you though. i appreciate it.”
higuruma hums not pushing any further on the subject. “do you drink?” he asks after swallowing down a bite of his burger.
“sometimes.” you shrug, clicking through your documents of notes that you were hardly paying attention to with higuruma making small conversation.
“would you like to drink now?”
the second time you look at him you see the teasing look in his own as if he’s urging you to loosen up for the night. he’s clearly in the mood to get to know you. perhaps one night of a few drinks wouldn’t be so bad.
“i suppose…” you sport a bashful smile, clicking out of your tabs and shutting down your laptop. you set it aside with your textbooks as higuruma orders your first round of drinks.
it starts off timid as if he’s testing the waters with some cocktails then began to try a little of everything. tropical drinks, shots, beer, and wine. of course you limited yourself to one of each— aside from the shots due to the fact you had a busy day tomorrow but it was surely enough to get you a bit passed tipsy.
higuruma proved to be holding his liquor better than you, smiling fondly as you babble on about the targaryen family line. at first he was curious about a video you were laughing at from tiktok and had to explain it was from game of thrones. you then learned he never watched the show and thought he’d find major interest in it.
you would yap about the politics, power, family, loyalty, and corruption. though once you got to the targaryens, higuruma had to pause at the mention of inbreeding.
“so what’s the difference between velaryons’s and targaryen’s?”
“velaryon and targaryen are house names.” you giggle, toying with your straw. “family lines. being valyrian is like, their racial background.”
“interesting…” he nods, sipping on his rum & coke. “and what’s the relationship between uh… daenerys? and jon?”
“i really shouldn’t be telling you this.” you laugh. “don’t you want to watch it now?”
“…i guess you’re right.” he grins, followed by a sigh as he stretches his arms over his head. “should we watch it tonight?”
you check the time on your phone, it was late. nearing midnight. it was tempting to indulge in a late night watch of one of your favorite shows but you’d probably regret it by the morning.
you bite down on your bottom lip, hiding the smile that wants to show. “it’s late…” you sigh out. “we probably shouldn’t.”
“then let’s start now.” he urges, opening his wallet and dropping a few dollars to cover the tab and allow the server to end their night with a more than generous tip. “c’mon.” he gestures his head, holding his hand out to you.
even with being a little drunk, you still felt shy coming in such close contact with higuruma. as you lifted your hand to connect with his, he guided you through the hotel and it grew quieter upon reaching the elevators.
he’s still holding your hand, waiting for them to open. you attempt to ignore the way his thumb gently brushes against your skin rhythmically and how this must look to bystanders. the thought is cut short when the doors finally split open and higuruma lets go of your hand to palm your lower back.
higuruma follows you in, pressing the floor number. you stand side by side, him humming a soft tune whilst you stare down at your feet to avoid meeting his stare that you could feel burning into you.
it was like a breath of fresh air upon reaching your floor and seeing the doors open. higuruma places his hand to your back again, guiding you down the quiet hall before reaching your room.
he presses the keycard to the sensor, following you in. you take slow steps inside, dropping your laptop and textbook onto your bed.
“what’s it on?” he huffs, turning on the tv.
you make yourself comfortable under the sheets, sighing in relief from the cold. “hbo.”
he surfs for a few seconds before shaking his head. “i don’t think this tv has that.”
“oh…” you frown then look at your laptop. “i mean, we could watch it on my laptop?”
he turns, thinking on what that means.
you both knew that meant laying down on the same bed, next to each other. he rubs his chin in thought. “only if you’re okay with it.”
your body grows hot but you nod slowly, scooting over to make space for him. he eyes the empty space for a few seconds, making hesitant steps forward. “are you sure? we could always watch it another time.”
“…it’s okay.” you spoke softly. “i want to watch it with you.”
he smiles at that, proceeding to lift up the covers and tuck himself under the covers beside you. the immediate warmth of his skin brushes yours and the two of you look at each other the moment he’s settled.
his eye contact is so intense and… unsettling almost that it has chills run down your spine. you want to look away but higuruma speaks up before you can.
“you’re really shy for a future lawyer.”
your brows furrow at his statement. “m’not.”
“you are.” he chuckles, eyes low as he can feel the crash from all the drinks overtake him.
“i think it’s just you.” you boldly argue.
he raises a brow. “yeah? what about me makes you so shy?”
you open your mouth but nothing can follow through especially with him so close you can feel your stomach churn when you catch yourself looking at his lips. “just… shut up.” you huff, grabbing for your laptop.
higuruma laughs, watching you log into hbo, searching for game of thrones. he steps out of the bed momentarily to turn off the lights before you can press start.
you settle the laptop atop both your legs, sighing as you press play on the first episode.
within the first thirty minutes, you fall asleep, your head rested against higuruma’s shoulder. he stayed up through three episodes, thoroughly enjoying the cause of events but forced himself to go to sleep or else he’d be having a rough day.
by the time the morning comes and your alarm goes off, you groan softly, eyes struggling to flutter open. you aimlessly search for your phone, shutting off the annoying sound before laying back down but then you feel a touch of skin.
you fully open your eyes, face twisting in fear at the sight of higuruma in your bed sound asleep. you weren’t that drunk where you didn’t remember wanting to watch game of thrones together but you weren’t sure why he stayed on your bed through the rest of the night.
you poked him, the action immediately waking him up. he breathes heavily, eyes fluttering open. he turns his head to face you. “good morning.”
“…morning.” you mumble, all the slight confidence you gained last night completely gone. though you did feel a certain comfortability now around him.
“sleep okay?” he husks out, lifting himself from the bed.
you nod, nervously twisting the sheets.
he checks the time. it was still early and you wouldn’t be meeting with your client until the afternoon. “do you want breakfast?”
“sure.”
“anything in particular?” he grabs his keys from the nightstand, swinging them around his pointer finger.
“your choice.” you shrug.
he hums. “go shower. get dressed. i’ll be back.”
you do as he says, showering, getting dressed, then eat breakfast with him once he gets back.
the day follows on as planned, you meet with the client, discuss the case, write down details, aim to search for more evidence and layout options.
for the next few weeks, you spent long hours traveling with higuruma to collect more evidence in support of your case. for a time you were able to juggle all the work but the stress of your bar exam coming up was starting to take a toll.
you wanted more time to study but you also had to sacrifice a lot of time to help higuruma. so you start to force yourself to stay up most nights, hardly getting any sleep, caffeine intake drastically rising.
it not only began to present itself through your physical presence but with the way you interacted with higuruma. at first he could understand having been in your position of working between school, studying, and work but as the weeks passed he noticed your decline was starting to affect your work performance.
he’d allow for a few things to slide but not at the risk of a client's future behind bars. so when he asks you a question and you remain too zoned out to answer, he’ll sigh.
“y/n.”
“hm?” you’ll hum, pen twisting between your teeth, completely focused on the textbook laid out.
“look at me.” he commands, tone still gentle as he waits for your eyes to meet his. higuruma was completely aware of your inability to do so but he couldn’t care at the moment. so when you only lift them for a second as if to show you were listening then drop them back to your computer screen he shakes his head with a sigh.
you don’t even notice him stand then come around to palm your chair until he shuts your laptop closed and snatches the pen from your hand. he ignores your surprised reaction. “is this becoming too much for you?”
you frown, opening your mouth to say something but you can’t follow through. instead you shake your head.
he spins you in your seat, forcing you to face him. “can you look at me when i’m speaking to you, please?”
“higuruma, i’m sorry—” you start with a small pout, not listening to what he asked.
“you don’t need to apologize. just look at me.”
it’s silent for a few seconds and you finally flicker your eyes up to look at him. a hand rests on the chair, the other on your desk completely caging you in. you can smell the strong but warm scent of his cologne that radiates off his skin and clothes.
“is this too much for you?” he asks again. “i can give you a break.”
“n-no.” you deny his inquisition. “the work is fine. it’s just… the studying. i’ve got my exam coming up really soon, i’m sorry.”
“it’s fine.” he assures, “look, on the weekends and on our breaks, i’ll help you study. it’s not nice seeing you like this, okay?”
you nod and he stands at his full height, comfortably squeezing your shoulder then patting your head. “take a nap. you look like you need it.”
there was about one more month left until you’d have to take the exam and higuruma keeps through on his promise and dedicates any moment of extra time he has to help you study.
his methods actually allowed you to gain more sleep, balance work more appropriately, and retain the information easier. you genuinely felt like you were learning. you even complimented higuruma on his skills of teaching, claiming that he’d make a great professor.
this continues throughout the month until it was time for the actual day. he helped you study in the morning for a bit, not too much as he didn’t want to override your brain. he got you breakfast and decided to drop you off at the testing site.
“i’ll be right here, okay?”
you nod, looking at him with a solemn smile. you hesitate at first but overwhelmed by your emotions you reach over the console to give him a hug. “thank you…”
he lets out a breath that sounds close to a laugh, hands coming around to circle your body. his palm rubs up and down your back in a comforting motion. “you’ve got this.” he whispers. “good luck.”
you head into the building, gone for a total of three and a half hours. he fell asleep in the car for about an hour until he hears three rampant knocks to the passenger window.
he sees your figure standing there with other individuals following out the building. immediately, he unlocks the door, watching you hop into the car without a word.
“how do you think you did?” he sighs, turning the ignition of the car.
you can only shrug, anxiety riddled through your body. passing was the only option for you. you opted out in taking it the first month the exam is taken so you’d have more time to study. this was your last chance or else you wouldn’t be able to advance in your studies.
higuruma takes in your worrisome expression, reaching his hand out to gently squeeze your shoulder. “should we go out for some drinks?”
you let out a small laugh, looking at him and nodding.
the two of you settle for some small bar, doing the same as before. indulging in every kind of drink but still keeping limitations. eventually, higuruma suggested to watching game of thrones and you in your slightly drunk state of mind couldn’t deny.
you end up at his home because you were too scared of what your roommate might say if you brought higuruma home. you step into the threshold, eyes wide as you stare around in awe.
“why is it so empty?” you giggle, noticing the lack of… anything.
it was as if he simply bought the house and disregarded buying any furniture, dishes, and utensils. does he even live here? was your initial thought as you scavenged through his pantry, cabinets, and refrigerator only to find nothing that could saturate your hunger.
“i spend most of my time at the office.” he huffs, tugging off his suit jacket and tossing it on his sofa. “i mainly come back here to shower and change clothes.”
you hum, clutching your purse as you continue to look around, dragging your fingers along surfaces.
that’s sort of become your lifestyle too now. you’ve no doubt seen higuruma more than your own roommate— which supported why you definitely couldn’t bring him over without warning.
he steps towards you, pointing to your purse and jacket. “would you like to shower?”
“that’d be nice…” you nod, handing him your belongings to toss with his jacket.
he grabs an extra towel he luckily had and his pajamas for you to wear since you didn’t have any clothes of your own. “i plan to order some food, do you want anything in particular?”
“dealer’s choice.” you smile at him. he nods, leaving you to shower as he picks on what to eat. you shower for about half an hour as you spent half of that time snooping around his restroom for any indication of a woman being here.
it was surely none of your business but you couldn’t help but find yourself intrigued by higuruma. naturally, amongst the things you wondered about was if he shared a life with someone. though it should’ve been obvious with the way he never spends his time at home and the simple fact of you being here.
you dried yourself off, putting on his clothes and unsure of where to put the used towel, you walk into his bedroom searching for a hamper. though you find yourself eager to just look around. there wasn’t much to find except for the basics.
you open his closet and find a wide range of suits all in black and white along with his pajamas that were the same color. he also had a distinct collection of watches and cologne.
you end up spraying the different fragrances into the air, adoring the mixture of them being woody, earthy, and citrusy. you take one, spraying it onto yourself.
“having fun?”
you turn fast on your feet, startled by his voice. he sports a teasing smile and you can’t help but feel your body grow hot in embarrassment. “um… sorry…” you laugh nervously, placing the cap back on to the cologne and settling it back in its original spot.
he shakes his head, fond of how you looked, “it’s alright. i ordered chinese.” he then hands you the remote to the tv and his phone for you to track the food. “log in to hbo. i’ll go take a quick shower.”
you nod, heading back out and taking a seat on his sofa. you log into hbo and as you waited, you ended up using his phone to scroll through tiktok. you definitely could’ve used your own but it felt more fun to use his considering the fact he didn’t even have the app in the first place.
the food arrived and within ten minutes after higuruma was done with his shower, fully dressed. he was wearing the same thing as you with the exception of his clothes looking larger on your frame.
he takes a seat beside you, spreading out the arrangement of food he bought on the mini table he had. you press play on the show and hour after hour you felt happier, completely forgetting that you even had an exam today. forgetting that you spent months worrying about this very day all thanks to higuruma.
you always grew a certain amount of courage after drinking so it went without a thought for you to sigh after feeling full then lean sideways to rest your head on his shoulder.
“thank you for today.” you mumble, eyes glued to the screen.
higuruma’s sprawled back, legs spread until you lean against him.
he doesn’t want to think too hard about the current proximity, simply enjoying the moment as he throws an arm around you so you’d feel more comfortable snuggling up to him.
“you deserved it.” he squeezes you gently and you don’t say anything in response, just cozying up to him some more.
from that day, you and higuruma grew closer than ever and you began to notice that you often thought about him, smiled at him more, opened up, and gained the courage to look at him longer.
with every compliment, touch, and night that you spent at his house watching game of thrones whilst eating food, there was no denying that you shared particular feelings for him.
and as the weeks past, you began to wonder what you should do with these feelings until the time came where the scores for the bar exam were out. the two of you were sat in the office per usual, and you received an email notification describing that the scores for the exam were out and where to check them.
you swallowed thickly, logging in to your admissions portal.
“did you ever get a copy of the prosecution's discovery?” higuruma asks, mindlessly flipping through a file.
his question is followed by silence and he’ll lift his head. “y/n?”
upon the continuous silence, higuruma rolls on his chair, peeking his head over to your cubicle to see you hiding your face and your shoulders shaking. concerned at the sight, he stands, and approaches you to palm your shoulder and that’s when he begins to understand that you’re crying when a fragile sob falls past your lips.
his heart burns at the broken sound. “what’s wrong?” his eyes lift to your monitor and see the familiar page of the exam results. he scrolls through the letter to see you’ve passed.
a laugh of relief spills from his throat, glad that your reaction isn’t due to any devastating news. his hand circles around your wrist and tugs at it. “come here.”
you slowly stand, allowing your emotions to flow upon feeling his arms encircle you tightly. you’ll cry into his chest, managing to thank him through your tears. he’ll shush you, rubbing at your back and cradling the back of your head.
“you did such a good job.” he murmurs into your hair.
he continues to mumble praises into your hair and ear, holding and consoling you until your crying has calmed down. once he hears you letting out small breaths to control your breathing, he pulls back, wiping at your tear stained cheeks. “i’m so proud of you.”
your body grows hot at the compliment paired with his stare as he gently cups your cheek, thumb swiping across the skin.
you let out a shaky breath, not sure if it was from your crying or that feeling pooling between your legs. your eyes drop down to his lips then back up to his eyes. higuruma does the same and you can’t help but curl your fingers around his dress shirt.
both of your breathing picks up and neither of you are sure of what to do in this moment. you can feel his free hand drop from your back then down to your waist as you each exchange flickering looks between your lips and eyes.
“higuruma…” you breathe out and he shakes his head, closing his eyes then pressing his forehead to yours.
“hiromi.” he corrects, switching his hand that cups your cheeks to palm the back of your neck. “my name… say it. that’s all i need.”
you fight the whine that bubbles in your throat, gripping tightly onto him as you open your mouth. “hiromi…”
he gives in at the immediate desperation his name holds, roughly pressing you against him so your lips could meet.
the two of you have your hands moving everywhere along your bodies and a gasp rushes from your lungs as he frantically lifts you onto the desk.
items clatter everywhere as he knocks them away whilst dipping his tongue into your mouth. it’s frantic and eager the way your mouths clash together. soft groans and moans spilling into the air as papers crumble beneath your figure.
you kick off your heels as hiromi hikes your skirt around your hips, pressing your back against the surface and knocking your legs open with his knees, revealing the lace panties hidden underneath them.
he presses himself against you with a rough groan, one hand hoisting your leg at his waist, whilst the other taps your cheek then grips your face to press into them. “open.”
your jaw widens, and hiromi hums before spitting in your mouth then leaning in to connect your lips again.
he’s hard and big.
it’s all you can think of as your tongues mesh together in perfect harmony.
weeks of built up feelings that you both tried so hard to fight all falling at the seams. you reach up to tug at his black roots as he unconsciously ruts himself against your clothed core.
you take advantage when he finally pulls away, a string of saliva following with him. his lips are swollen and covered in spit as he leans down to kiss along your jaw, then suck at the skin of your neck. you pant feverishly against his ear, gripping tighter onto him each time his bulge connects with your clit just right.
deep shaky breaths fly through his nose as rolls his hips, eyes squeezing tightly from the tightness building in his pants. it felt so fucking good to hear those soft whimpers and moans escape your lips. “feels so good.” he groans, pressing his forehead against yours. you two practically rubbing against each other like bunnies in heat without even starting the main course.
you whimper feeling yourself clench around nothing. your hands grasp for higuruma and he hums, kissing just below your ear. “gonna cum?”
you nod, mouth slacked open as he breathes harshly against your neck. “that’s okay, sweetheart.” he huffs, using his free hand to travel down between your bodies. fuck, he thinks the moment his fingers feel how drenched your panties are. your eyes blow wide as he pinches your clothed clit then rubs in tight circles. “you can cum, it’s okay.”
“oh my god.” you tremble and writhe against his lengthy figure, clawing at his back and arms as you feel lost on what to hold on with your orgasm building every second.
he stops the movement of his hips, grasping your neck so you’d be staring straight at him as he picks up the pace of his fingers. “come on.” he licks his lips, maintaining the eye contact he forces you to hold. “i wanna see you. you’re almost there.”
“hiromi—” you choke on the air, threatening to close your eyes but he shakes your head, warning you to keep them open as your body trembles from the euphoria that overcomes you.
“good job.” he wipes at your forehead and cheeks, standing to his full height. you use his tie to lift yourself up, meeting your lips again and immediately sloshing your tongue with his. while he fumbles to unbutton your shirt you do the same then aggressively toss off his tie. his large hands grope at your breast before unclipping your bra to flick and twist at your nipple. you moan into his mouth, fingertips caressing the light muscles of his abs.
he finds it quite amusing how you flinch with each twist and tug but nonetheless you let him continue his worship of your body. he leaves your skirt cinched around your waist, squeezing your hips then slowly tugs your panties down your legs.
you can’t imagine what he plans to do next until he drops both his hands behind your thighs, pressing them down as far as he can before bending down to dip his head between your legs.
his tongue flattens against your leaking hole, sucking up all slick your pussy produced. you reach straight for his hair, choking on a moan. “w-wait, i can’t.” you tell him, quivering at the sudden sensation. it certainly didn’t help with how big his nose is, he had the advantage to nudge it against your clit each lick and suck.
“i just want to taste you.” his voice vibrates against you, eliciting a strangled moan out of you. “is that okay, love?” he pulls back momentarily, mouth and nose coated in your juices as he presses a kiss to either side of your thighs.
what gets you is the fact he genuinely waits on your response. you nod feebly and he presses a kiss to your clit. “thank you.” is all he says before continuing his actions. your eyes immediately squeeze shut and you’re not sure if you’re trying to push his head or pull him closer. regardless, your back arches off the desk, pulling at his hair as he holds you down to prevent any more of your squirming.
a sound of absolute satisfaction rumbles in his chest and higuruma loses himself in your taste. he’s quite filthy really. you would’ve never expected him to be the type of man that relentlessly switches between licking, spitting, and sucking the way he does. a small pool of liquid has likely formed under you by now.
“r-romi, m’ gonna cum.” he hears, feeling the way you buck up against his mouth and quite literally has to force himself off you at the announcement. he seethes in a breath, huffing and puffing, licking around his mouth.
higuruma stands straight again, unbuckling his belt, letting out a soft breath as he no longer feels constricted. your eyes fall when he drops his pants and briefs. shit. i mean, you figured he was big but not that fucking big.
you yelp as he pulls you to the edge of the table, slapping his thick cock against your drooling hole that pulses around nothing.
“can i?” he collects your mess between his fingers, spreading your folds and gliding his shaft between them.
you nod but higuruma shakes his head then grips your neck to pull you up. “tell me, sweetheart. can i?”
“p-please.” you look up at him, all doe eyed and desperate. his hand squeezes your neck and keeps you looking at him as he uses his other hand to pull you closer, prodding in just the tip then slowly pushes himself into your warm, gushing cunt. your mouth slacks open at the stretch, gasping for air as higuruma squeezes tighter from the way you sporadically clench around his length.
he’s only halfway in and it’s taking all his energy to not cum. your pussy is torturously sucking him in, so much so a quivering grunt echoes from his chest. he pats your thigh in response. “ease up, it’s just me, darling.” he tells you, and you want to laugh at how serious he’s being. ease up? not fucking possible when at least eight inches length and formidable girth was pushing itself into you.
once he’s finally filled to the hilt. your legs cross around his hips, grasping his wrist, preventing him from squeezing too tight on your throat. “you’re always such a good girl… so smart and beautiful.” he praises, leaning in to peck your lips then follows with butterflies kisses along your jaw and neck then comes back up to meet your lips again. your mouths twist slower, fiery and brimmed with passion to distract you from the roll of his hips.
“so warm.” he moans against your lips, biting down and sucking on your bottom one. he finally lets go of your neck, pushing you on your back again then clasping both thighs as leverage to pummel himself deep into your pussy. he groans along to your whimpers and moans, dark eyes focused on the imprint that shows itself on your stomach with every thrust.
his light abs glisten with sweat, his brows furrowed as he zones into the way he disappears in and out of your pussy that sucks him in and coats his base white.
papers crumble beneath your fist as your moans are pulled closer together, the indication that your orgasm was fast approaching. the effect likely to be huge since you already had your first and was denied your second. hiromi grunts, fixing you into a mean semi-mating press, legs over his shoulders as his balls mercilessly slap against your skin to echo around the office space.
“gonna cum.” you quiver but higuruma smacks your clit as if that’s supposed to help.
“hold it.”
“i-i can’t.” you look at him, pouting.
his eyes snap up to meet yours and he smacks you again. “hold it.”
he somehow moves faster and harder, harshly breathing with sweat beading down his temple. after a minute, you’re completely spent, eyes watering as you shake your head. “romi, please. i can’t hold it.”
“shhh.” he huffs, pressing his palm over your mouth, viciously chasing the high of his orgasm. he rolls his eyes shut, sticking two fingers into your mouth. “go. hurry up and cum.”
it’s only a few seconds after his command that your waves come crashing down, body yearning to close upon itself due to the overstimulation but higuruma keeps you spread open, still thrusting for what feels like over a minute.
he pulls out, a hand immediately coming to pump at his length, the other angling your body just right so when he forces your mouth open, hot spurts of his cum land on your breasts, chin, and tongue.
hiromi takes a breath that sounds like he’s inhaling fresh air, squeezing at his tip to extract every ounce of his fill. he takes a good and long look at your weak body, collecting his remains that landed on you to push back into your mouth.
“so beautiful…” he cups your cheek, holding you upright since you clearly can’t. “you alright? did i hurt you?”
“no… i’m okay.” you mumble, staring up at him as if he held up the moon and stars. “was i?… okay?”
“absolutely, love.” his brows furrow, gently caressing your skin as he looks at you. “more than okay. perfect.”
you smile shyly at that and he has a similar question on his mind as he helps in cleaning you up. “are we okay?”
“am i okay for you?”
hiromi has begun to understand your naturally shy and timid nature but it also crossed his mind that your sense of overthinking would come into play with your age gap.
it wasn’t drastic of course but he would never want to put you in a position that made you seemingly uncomfortable.
you nod with a small smile, gripping his bicep and pulling him in to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “more than okay… perfect.”
child of divorce yuji forcing you to call your ex!husband sukuna to say goodnight.
series masterlist
you had refused all week to give into yuji's plan that he had stolen from the internet. you were mature, healed and too busy to deal with these little dares. but it was up until one bored evening where you had finally succumbed to his challenge.
Your phone was on speaker, with the line ringing for the contact name of your ex-husband which was simply titled 'sukuna'.
no love hearts, no kisses or nicknames. you were completely over him and have been for years. the only reason you stay in touch with him is for Yuji's sake.
"I don't think he'll pick up yuj' " you murmured to him slightly. "your dad's been busy these past few days.'
and just like the old days, Sukuna always manages to prove you wrong -he always needed to embarrass you, even when he wasn't even here in the flesh.
"hello?" a coarse voice rings out on the other end of the line.
"hello." you respond and immediately you feel your stomach fall in knots. you're nervous. and you don't even know why.
looking up at yuji, his expectant face is watching eagerly as if he enjoys torturing you. he mouths "say it! say it!" and you feel like you have no choice but to continue with your dare.
you swallow down your nerves and attempt to speak as nonchalant as possible. "I just wanted to call and say goodnight."
There's a pause and there's something inside you that just knows how much he's smirking right now.
"Oh really?" he starts putting on a sultry tone, "you haven't done that in a while, is something wrong?"
you pull a face, willing your body to not fall for his tone of voice. no you won't fall like you did all those years ago. absolutely not. "No, I just wanted to say goodnight."
"do you need me to come over and tuck you in as well or....?"
"no! uhm, I mean no I'm fine but y'know I hope you have a good night."
yuji's meanwhile in the corner of the room clenching his stomach and trying his hardest not to let out a laugh.
"hmmm."
"what?"
"cut the crap."
"I'm not-" you start but sukuna manages to cut you off pretty quickly.
"listen, either tell me what you really want or don't bother wasting my time."
you pull a face, "me telling you good night is a waste of your time now?"
"yes."
"what are you even doing right now? it's 11pm and i know you don't have shit to do."
"don't turn this on me, baby, this is all about you."
"don't call me baby." you mutter.
"then don't call me to say good night."
you roll your eyes, you should have known that even the conversation of 'good night' would naturally turn into an argument between the two of you.
"is yuji good? you sure you don't need me to come over to help take care of a pre-teen?" he mocks.
"i don't" you bite, "i was just being kind and saying goodnight, i know how lonely it must get over there. are you sure you're doing alright?" your tone is filled with sarcasm, attempting to play sukuna at his favourite game.
"i dunno', " he starts, "i might need to come over to your bed so you can keep me company.'
you immediately hang up. you're done and finished. whilst yuji's laughing away in the corner all you can do is roll your eyes at the conversation.
but there's a little part.
a little part of you that you won't ever admit to yourself that misses him.
unbeknownst to you, on the other side there's still a smirk on sukuna's face as he sets the phone down, ruminating on the fact that there's also a part of him that misses you.
sukuna takes you to the beach so you can lay on your tummy! ft: pregnant reader & whipped sukuna <3
notes: i feel like sukuna would be very territorial and protective of you while you're pregnant cus now not only is he protecting his wife but also his kid?! anyway i'd love to see him chilling there too <3 i think he'd have fun at the beach... if he let himself -_-
if there was one thing you exceeded at, it'd be sending your dear husband's blood pressure soaring to astronomical heights, and you took pride in being the one person to evoke such emotions in the man most considered heartless
currently, you're walking by the shore while sukuna trudges behind you, carrying all your necessities for the day with ease underneath the hot, scorching sun. you keep one hand over the swell of your stomach while admiring the view before suddenly stopping, and sukuna drops your belongings onto the sand beside you a moment later as you deem this spot perfect aloud for him
"four bags. you brought four bags for what, woman?" he growls, pinching your cheek as you squeal. he lets go eventually, already dropping onto his knees as he begins carving into the sand with determination set in his gaze, and you lower yourself carefully and wiggle your toes in the sand right after
"thank you for bringing me here." you sigh happily, and he merely grunts in response. you watch his large hands dig skillfully into the ground as he works. it's a hot summer day, and you're nearly three quarters of the way through your pregnancy.
sukuna had found you crying, as he often did these past few months simply due to mood swings, and through a garbled confession filled with tears and whining, he learned your sadness came from the fact that you couldn't lay on your stomach anymore—and, well, that just wouldn't do.
it didn't take him long to figure out a way you could relax while still being safe for the baby, but once he did, he quite literally dressed you in a sundress himself before renting out a beach for the two of you to relax on. to say you were happy was an understatement: you were absolutely ecstatic
"the things i do for you... stupid woman. stupid, lovely woman." he mumbles irritated, and you tilt your head down to peer up at him through your sunglasses before offering him a dazzling grin. sukuna stares right back, utterly unimpressed
once he's carved out a suitable crater for you to lay your stomach in, he helps you get adjusted, relaxing only when he sees you smile
"lay with me!"
—and so he does. he lies right beside you, squinting up at the sun as he sighs loudly
"it's too fucking bright out here." he complains, throwing an arm over his eyes as you hum noncommittally, breathing in the fresh smell of the sea. you feel so comfortable you could fall asleep—and while you do spend some time drifting between dreamland and consciousness, sukuna nudges you gently about a half an hour later
"nooo," you whine, digging yourself further into the sand while you hear him snort
"you'll regret not looking up," he murmurs, and you raise your head from your arms with a huff as he gently takes hold of your chin and tilts it towards the water. your brows furrow in confusion before a gasp slips past your lips when you see a mother sea lion with her baby relaxing by the shore
"oh my god," you say, eyes round as your gaze glasses over in an instant, and sukuna watches your lips form an annoyingly adorable pout
"oh, for fuck's sake, please don't start crying again." he groans, but even when he hears the little sniffles that escape your lips a moment later, he doesn't hesitate to pull you against him. thankfully, sukuna's large enough for you to collapse against him and be supported by his arms alone entirely
"adorable... so, do you think it's a baby boy or girl?"
sukuna bristles at your question before his gaze snaps down towards you
"what?"
"i said do you think it's a girl or a boy." you repeat, poking his cheek as he gently swats away your hand. sukuna's brows furrow as if he's thinking carefully about what to say next, and you listen closely for his response before he murmurs the word quietly
"...a girl."
you hum, and his eyes narrow as he stares at you
"what about you?" he questions, and you tap your chin in thought
"i think it's a boy. i don't know why—i guess it has a bit of a boyish look. but i'm sure girl sea lions and boy ones look the same, yes?"
sukuna pales once he realizes you were in fact not talking about the baby in your stomach but rather the fat baby sea lion residing about a hundred feet from the two of you instead
"what the f—you never—what?!"
"i'm pretty sure male sea lions are bigger too, and that one looks like a pretty big baby! it must be! you should thank me, ryo. because of me, you still get to learn new things here and there." you say proudly, nuzzling back against his chest contentedly as he fights back the string of curses lying heavy on the curve of his tongue
"you're so..." he starts, words tapering off into a growl as you peer up at him through your lashes innocently
Synopsis: you don’t know he’s got a big crush on you, and he finds out you’re quite inexperienced so he offers to help you gain some.
Fanart by @/youKa.i on insta/tiktok
I hope you enjoy! -> on ao3 as well!!
Moodboard here (ignore this if you want)
Wc: 7.4k
Cw: Non canon au. Office au. No physical description of y/n other than clothes and hair (just a brief mention). Short plot. teaching you to kiss. Thumb sucking. Talking you through it. Pubic hairs. Virgin!reader. Introvert!Toji. Soft dom!Toji. Dacryphilia. Once again you’ve got a deep dish. Spooning. Prone bone. Headlocks. Make outs. Multiple orgasms. Dry humping. Thigh riding. Pussy eating. Fingering. Clit play. Creampie. Unprotected. Big dick!Toji. Size kink. Size difference. Breath play. Cervix fucking. Squirting. Second hand embarrassment (very brief). He wears glasses.
˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚
It’s been three dreadful years since you got this job. Same boring routine. Your alarm, panging heavily. Screeching. 05:37. An oddly specific time but nonetheless. Your front flat on the bed. Head buried in the satin pillow. An arm underneath it. Your eyes groggy, crust filled, you raise one arm above your laying body and smack the sounding thing, hard. It stops.
You need exactly twenty three minutes to yourself in the morning before you begin your day. Twenty three minutes of silence. You turn over. Back now against the ruffled sheets.
Staring at the ceiling above you. Your curtains slightly ajar, a distant car engine coming to life. The headlights, illuminating. Small patterns of light reflect onto your ceiling. Various shapes.
Lifting a hand into the air slowly, you’re tracing the patterns you see. Index finger pointed, swirling circles, rectangles. A sharp edge, you trace out. Your arm, stretching further away from you.
05:43
You glance at the alarm clock. Bright red font staring back at you. You restlessly bring your arm back down, it lands in a small plop. You close your eyes briefly, a heavy sigh leaving your lips.
You grab your phone by your bedside. Tapping the screen, 05:45. You scroll through your socials, emails and skim read your schedule on your calendar.
Minutes go by as the time finally reads 06:00. You reluctantly sit up, legs hanging off the edge of the mattress. Hands planted on either side of it, you push yourself up with a small grunt. You enter your bathroom, marble dark green tiled walls and a few small plant pots decorated the room.
A red toothbrush in a white mug next to your small sink. You brush your teeth and shower all under thirty minutes. You find a professional business-casual outfit in your closet. A yellow cashmere sweater, paired with indigo straight legged jeans and red bowl of repettos. You grab your wired headphones and your bag, keys already in hand, and head out. A soft tune playing in your ears.
You check your phone, April 5th. 06:50. The weather’s less cold today. The sun rising, a hue of golden skulked behind chalky clouds. A warm easy breeze brushing your cheeks.
Fourteen minutes.
You needed to get the train at exactly four minutes past seven in the morning.
You make it to the station with four minutes to spear. You love walking, such an easy way to get your blood flowing.
The station’s platform buzzed with restless hums of commuters. Swarmed with people. Fatigued faces, sagged shoulders. A heaviness in the air. Yet you were tuned out, bouncing quietly to the rhythm in your ear. You didn’t let the heaviness get to you. You already know you have a long day ahead of you. Can’t do anything about it.
One silver carriage after another rolls in. Tires screeching every few seconds. It halts. The doors slowly opening, a horde of people rushing out, whilst people barge past others trying to rush in, you included. It’s tightly packed. Stuffy air. Poor air conditioning. Blocked in every direction. Bags brushing against people’s backs. Bumping at every jolt of the train. The train jerks at a curve, sending you swaying. Your body failing to catch up with the sudden movement. Your body bends, face pressing up into someone’s swole chest. The train lurches again, he catches you. Beefy arms locking around your waist.
“I’m soo sorry. The train— I didn’t mean to.” You plead. Your eyes haven’t reached his yet, too embarrassed to look.
“You okay?” A deep rumble.
Baritone. Throaty.
You finally look up at him nervously, eyes widening slightly.
He’s handsome. Very handsome. Nearly a whole foot taller than you. His neck tilted downward, fully focused on you. Black hair, a messy wolf cut, almost blue in the train light, frame his eyes. They’re sharp, you notice. Grey with hints of green as they stared back into yours. Intense. Glasses framed perfectly on his nose. Black briefcase over a shoulder. A white t-shirt underneath a navy blue sweat, folded at the midpoint of his forearm, exposing angry veins following up to his massive hands. He could kill me in one punch, you think.
Dark grey slacks, your eyes trailing further down to his black oxford patent shoes.
His arm is still caged at your waist, holding you upright. Wait. You’ve seen him before. Where? At the park? Wait no. This is your coworker. What’s his name again?
T…to…Zen…
You’re trying to remember, still staring at him, not answering.
“It’s Toji. We’re colleagues."
Ah Toji. That’s it.
“O—oh yeah. I totally remembered.” A slight forced laugh leaving you.
The train bumps again. You accidentally grab at his bicep. Meaty. Thick bicep. He’s so big you think. You’d never noticed Toji. At all actually. But he’s noticed you.
“Sorry again.” You look down, uncomfortable.
“Hold onto me yeah?” Velvety voice. He’s pulling you tighter against him. Your chest flushed against his rigid one. Fuck, how is he so big?
You give a tiny nod, eyes focused on the ground. He grunts in response. Odd. Paying no mind to it, you pull out your phone, needing any distraction. Reviewing your calendar. A full busy day, your phone reads. With it all ending by 6pm. You sigh mentally. You click a few tasks, scrolling on your phone checking the details.
‘Type up a project, send it off to your boss by the end of the day.’ Emails upon emails flooding yours. Constantly responding to them. Lunch break. The same restaurant. Same sandwich. Lettuce, cheese, chicken breast.
All the while, there’s Toji. Fighting your scent. He’s staring at the top of your head. Thoughts overpowering him. The smell of your perfume, so enticing, so inviting. Screaming in his nose. Vanilla with a hint of strawberry. He gives in and breathes you in slow. Quiet. Face nearly pressing into your head. Eyes closing. A flush of pink rushing to his cheeks. A bulge forming slightly in his trousers. Shiiit.
You’re still holding onto his bicep. It felt like the muscle was bursting out. He dwarfed you. His large body shielding, hiding you from everyone else. You couldn’t see over his shoulder even if you tried.
The train still moving, tired groans of its wheels are heard every few minutes.
-
The train slowed with a long screech. Its wheels grinding against the rails. It stops. The doors opened with a sluggish spread. People barging past each other trying to get out. You’re unfocused, not really there. Toji’s large arms guiding you out. Your chest to his front, your feet backing away. His forward. Both stumbling out. He’s holding you tight, the warmth radiating off of him. He’s so close. His musky, sandalwood perfume digging in your nose. You can’t help but inhale.
You both make it out onto the platform. Still clutched onto each other. Your eyes reach his, he’s already looking.
“Thank you Toji.” Face flushing in a deeper colour, he’s making you so shy.
His heart stutters. A small pink on the surface of his face. He swallows the lump in his throat before answering.
“‘S no problem.”
The two of you exit the station in silence. Both side by side, he’s slowing his steps matching your pace. Hands in his pockets. Grounded, confident strides of his long legs next to yours. A heavy walk. Small tilts of his hips from every step.
-
Eventually you make it to the office doors.
Both heavily greeted by your lively boss.
“Ahh! It’s nice to see you two come in together.” Strangely bubbly. Especially with how early it is in the morning. Just twenty minutes after seven. Messy glasses, hair in flying strands. A bright red cardigan with a white shirt underneath. Grey pants and black dr martens.
She reminds you of your old art teacher from college.
You give her a small smile anyway, nodding.
“Why specifically.. us two?” You ask all confused.
Your boss glances at Toji, wiggling her brows. You narrow your eyes at her, then between the two. You pause at Toji, nervously staring at him. He’s glaring at your boss. A minute of silence follows. Just eyes fighting over.
Toji quickly barges past you both, his face flushed red. You couldn’t see it though. Only noticed the growing red at the back of his neck. He reaches a hand up to cover it as he scurries away.
“Uh?”
“Alrighty!” Your boss’s sing songy voice cutting you off.
“I’ve got a bunch of stuff for you to do today. I know you can get it allll done before the end of today! Aaand I’ll reward you if you do.” Eyes beaming at yours. She’s paused in a teeth open smile. Hands clasped together. Interlocked. You don’t know why that scares you a bit, but it does.
You crack a smile again, one eye twitching.
-
Lunch time. Finally. You’ve got a headache.
You’re headed to your easy access restaurant. Reciting your order in your head.
The weather’s quite nice today. Soft kisses of a warm breeze wafting through the air land on your cheeks. It’s a two minute walk from the office.
You’ve got your sandwich in a small brown bag, you’re holding it up with two hands. It’s your favourite sandwich, so you hold it with much care. Pacing, making your way back to the office staff room.
You reach the office doors, tapping your lanyard at the speed gates. A light jog now, you’re heading down to the staff room, excited to quench your hunger.
Reaching the door to the staff room, you stretch your arm out aiming for the handle before the door opens and you meet a larger, sturdier body. Same blue sweater, same toned forearms. You look up, eyes beaming.
“Toji!” A soft smile tugging at your lips as you stare.
He grunts in response, nodding his head a little. Hands coming up to push at the bridge of his glasses. Adjusting the already neatly placed thing on his face. Needing to ground himself in your presence. You make him so nervous you don’t even know it.
He steps aside letting you in. You give him a playful wink as thanks. A rush of heat gathers at his cheeks. Fuck. You don’t know how much he likes you. You’ve just got this easiness to you. So soft. Sweet.
You enter the room, seeing a close work friend sitting at one of the tables. You settle down into a chair next to her, chatting your day away.
-
The end of your shift is approaching. You’ve never been happier. You’re sitting at your desk typing away at the keyboard.
“My lovely staff!” Your boss enters the office room in that annoyingly warm sing songy voice.
“Since you’ve all been such wonderful people, I’m rewarding you all! Office dinner!” She shrieks, her voice getting pitchier at every word. You feel a throb at your ear drums. Covering your ears with both hands you’re smiling at her anxiously. There’s one thing you still weren’t used to in all your three years of being here. Your boss’s unpredictable nature.
“An officer dinner sounds nice.”
You hear murmurs across the room, some eager, some anxious, you being one of them.
-
The long awaited office dinner. You’re seated beside your close friend around a circular table, giggling at something she’s said. Other staff gathered around. You can’t really register it though you’ve had a few drinks and they’re starting to take effect. You’re swaying side to side, a hearty smile etched on your face. You’re staring at your friend so lovingly. You love friendships. There’s something much deeper about friendships than anything else.
You hear another one of your colleagues talk about their sexual history. The alcohol punching it out of them. With another tipsy giggle, you lean in towards your friend, ushering her closer with a beckon of your hand. A nearly empty glass of wine in the other.
You whisper in her ear. Giggling.
“You know I’ve never kissed anyone before.”
You rise back up, staring with a drunken smile. It’s as if she’s forced into sobriety when she hears you. Face contorting into something that looks like surprise. Before she responds, she notices a certain someone. How they’ve been struggling to keep their eyes off of you. Dull green ones.
Instead, she grabs a spoon and taps in against her empty glass, a chime following. The room has her attention.
“Who wants a round of spin the bottle?” She suggests. A smirk playing on her lips.
“We’re too old for—”
“Yes! Sounds perfect.” Your boss cuts in. Her word being final.
Your boss grabs an empty beer bottle, facing it flat on the table and spins.
It unexpectedly lands on a certain dark haired male. That so happens to have a very sizeable frame.
“Mr Zenin!” She gleams. There’s a panicked look on his face, you chuckle to yourself quietly. Seems like he’s also not used to her antics.
“Aaaand…”
Spinning the bottle again. Your boss is seated near you, hands clasped together. Almost as if she knows who it’s landing on. Like she’s orchestrated something. It spins for a good long twenty seconds before landing perfectly in your direction. What a coincidence.
She yells your name excitedly. And you’re stunned in your seat. Frozen. You look to your friend whispering a quick
“What do I do?”
Before you glance over at Toji’s face and he’s… red. Very red. You look slightly concerned. Brows squinted. Mouthing a
‘You ok?’
He just nods quickly. Eyes leaving yours briefly, dancing around the room.
“Well?” Your boss is still giving that creepy wide smile.
“Well what..” you ask wearily. Clutching at the hem of your shirt.
“Well, head on out to an empty room! Both of ya.” She gestures her hands to the door, clapping, and Toji’s already up on his feet. This is the quickest you’ve ever seen him move. Practically speed walking to the door, exiting first. Small snickers are heard throughout the room.
“He’s so obvious.”
You just glance over everyone, still confused. With one final glance at your boss, you follow along. Leaving the room.
You find Toji against a nearby wall. Hands digging in his pockets. Shifting from one foot to the other.
“Toji?” You call out. His face turned over to you. Heart beating out his chest. Can she hear it? He wonders. He’s waited for such an opportunity like this, trying so hard not to fuck it up.
“..should we find a room?” His voice is so quiet. It’s as if he’s making an effort to look less intimidating than he already does. Why would you be scared though? He’s so nice. If looks could kill though.
“Yeah.” A reassuring smile shaping on your lips.
The both of you find an empty room, far away from your main building. No person nearby. No noise. Just extreme quietness.
You feel the alcohol setting in even more now. A slight dizziness forming. Possibly for him too, he’s had a few shots of whisky.
Your mind drifts back to what you said a few minutes ago.
‘Never kissed anyone before’
Toji seems like an understanding person under all that scruff. He could probably give you advice. He’s attractive. Very evidently. Your eyes rake over him. A slow once-over. Settling on his biceps for a second longer. God they’re so big. He’s so big. He probably has experience, you conclude. Definitely. He could help you. You muster up the courage and blurt it out.
“Toji! You know..” you pause, eyes looking at the ground before meeting his again. “I’ve never kissed anyone before… or done— you know what nevermind.” A huge wave of second hand embarrassment erupting. Hearing it out loud. Again. It sounds worse than it did earlier. You should’ve just kept your mouth shut. What possessed you to say that you think. Mentally slapping yourself a good few times. Eyes scrunching closed in disgust. Crows feet forming at how hard you’re pressing your lids together.
It’s as if the gates of heaven had opened and invited Toji Zenin directly. As vip. He sucks in a breath you don’t notice. Heart stuttering in his firm chest.
You’re looking away, all shy. Turning around full so your back is facing him now. You wish you could erase this memory, wipe it clean off the face of earth.
I should’ve never drank— Oh god, what if he tells everyone— you’re brain spiralling.
You hear heavy thuds, he’s slowly approaching you. Close enough to your back that you feel his warmth. Only slightly, but giving you room to object.
“Would you like me to… teach you?” He asks you, voice deeper than it usually is.
You spin back around shocked that he’s not disgusted by your admission. A small smile forming on your lips in genuine delight, you look up at him and nod twice. The alcohol fully in control of you both now. Hazey eyes, shining at him. He raises a hand up to your face. Slowly. Giving you time to say otherwise. You don’t reject it. He places a thumb at your chin, rubbing softly. Your jaw too. Tilting your gaze at him. Caressing you.
Before dipping his head low, huge body caging yours. He parts his lips slightly. His grey eyes half lidded. Intensely staring into your glazed ones.
His other hand finds your face. Propping up your head in both big hands, making you look so much smaller, he always did, he steps closer. Contracted biceps bulging in his shirt. Fingers travelling up your face, thumbs at the apples of your cheek.
“Open your mouth a bit…” he whispers, lowering a thumb, glazing over your glossy bottom lip.
“Yeah jus’ like that.”
Fuck he sounds so hot right now. Is it the alcohol? It’s definitely the alcohol.
You’re staring up at him. Blinking slow. Eyes all doey.
He pushes his thumb in. Delicately. Pushing at your wet muscle. Circling. His own tongue stutters out a little, in awe. Mimicking almost, as if he can’t fathom that you’re actually letting him put his thumb in your mouth. You hollow your cheeks and suck.
Slurp.
Your eyes close, shutting softly.
“Mnh.” That does it.
He removes his thumb, resting it on your bottom lip. Stares at the glistening thing. His eyes, heavy. He inches his face closer. His warm breath wafting over your face. Your mouth.
A gentle, chaste roll of his lips on yours. Slow. Open mouthed.
Chu.
Eyes closing at the feel. He pulls away just a bit. Low eyes boring into you. He’s still close enough that you’re breathing his air. You’re dazed. Panting unhurried deep breaths. Every exhale fanning his lips. His tongue swipes over his bottom lip slowly. Nearly touching yours. His eyes gloss over your wet mouth.
He leans in again. Eyes closing. Pulling your lips against his. Still unrushed. Angling closer. Noses brushing at every twist of his head. Deepening this kiss. His tongue wetting your lower lip. Asking. Pleading.
“Let me in.” Heavy pants in between kisses.
You open your mouth with a tiny moan, welcoming, enveloping his thick tongue. He’s bigger everywhere. So much bigger than you. You love it. He’s rolling his tongue against yours now, tracing the crevices of your mouth. Swallowing you. Tongues tangled. Moaning into you.
“Mmph!” Sultry groans leaving his mouth. Trapping your lower lip between his teeth. Sucking softly.
“Hn!”
You never knew kissing could be like this. Feel like this. You feel a pool of warmth settle at your lower belly. Butterflies. You push into him further. Tongues flat against each other. Sucking. Teeth clashing.
You’re grinding against each other now. His hands, wandering down your back, gripping your ass.
Your hips give an experimental thrust. An elongated roll. Holding it for an extra second. Mid kiss, you feel something rigid. Taut. Quite long too. You pull away just a little.
A gasp leaves you. You’re not too sure if it's pleasure or shock. Definitely both. You glance down at the hard thing. It looks painful, almost. Huge dent protruding at his lower clothes. A hefty thing he is. Couldn’t possibly be a normal size. You’re zoned out at the sight of him, he nudges a meaty thigh between your legs. Pulling your lower body closer to his. Veiny hands fixed at your hips. Rolling your clothed pussy against the solid muscle, he flexes.
“Unh!”
You’re moaning into his mouth. Hot breaths mixing. Eyes dilated. Fluttering.
“T—Toji!” You tried to pull away, voice trembling.
“Wanna stop?” He whispers with a shaky exhale. Low grey eyes piercing yours.
He hasn’t stopped moving you on his body. Gyrating hips in firm hands. You attempt to respond. But you whimper instead. He takes that as your answer. Entranced at how good it feels on his thigh. Throbbing pulses of your pussy every few beats. You’re aching. Craving more. Is this a normal thing that happens during sex? You don’t know. But you love it.
“I’m gonna pick you up okay?”
You give a few rushed nods, flushed face, parted wet lips brushing his.
Lifting you easily with one of his massive arms, he locks your legs around his toned waist. Flexed arms firm around your body. Caging you. Pulling you in so your clothed pussy’s face first against his bulge.
He’s grinding you down harder. Longer. Your clit catching at the large bump. He’s moving into you. Slow rolls of his.
“Angh!” Eyes shut. Lips caught in your teeth. They’re trembling. Poor attempts of you stifling your sounds. You hide your face into the crook of his neck.
“That good huh?” His voice all rugged. He’s feeling this as much as you. Hot breaths fanning your ear. You can’t reply.
You’re clutching at his tricep. Shoulders, his neck. A deep feeling settling in your lower belly. A build up. It's tight. Severe almost.
“You gotta say it.”
“Toj— hn! I don’t angh! Something’s—”
A few more rolls of your clothed pussy on him and you’re shuddering. Thighs shaking vigorously, eyes spinning. A silent cry leaving you. You’re cumming, hard. Nails gnawing at his shirt.
“F—fuckk!” Heavy heaves of your breath against his flushed neck.
“Breathe… breathe for me..that’s it.”
Beats pass. He helps you down from your high. You look ruined. Face stained in aftershocks of pleasure. You’re so fucking beautiful he’s barely holding on.
“I didn’t think it could be like that.” You breathlessly say. Staring at him.
“There’s still a lot more to learn…” His eyes dance around you before continuing.
“Let me take you home?”
-
Stumbling into your apartment, you’re pressed tightly against each other. Lips in a tangle of wet opened mouth kisses, your hands scratching at his back, forcing him impossibly closer to you. His face pinked in pleasure, harsh breaths strangling out airing your face.
Your apartment keys tumbling out your hands in a single swift motion, clattering against the floor. He’s all over you. Broad hands tugging at the hem of your shirt. Hoisting the thing above, now off of you. Your arms coming up with his before locking around his neck. Lace black bra on full display. His hungry gaze drifted to them, lingering. The curve of your breasts. The fullness. The way your nipples poked through the fabric. Awe didn’t begin to cover the way he ogled at your tits. The way he looked at them was deeper, almost reverent.
Obsessive.
You’ve both found the nearest wall, your sweat filled back pressing into it. Lifting ever so often with how your chest chases after him. He brings a hand to one of them, squeezing just right. Enough to cause pressure, but not enough to elicit pain from you. Can’t do that. He wouldn’t dream of it. You’re so precious to him, so perfect. Can’t ruin you just yet. He claws at your top pulling down in one swift tug. Tits spilling out in a perfect motion, as though flowers were breaking through their petals. You bloomed. He’s quick to grab hold of one of them, large hands swallowing it whole. The raw feeling now. You’re so warm. So pliable in his hands. He gives another experimental knead. Playing with you. Testing it.
Your pebbled nipple, glossing over his palm. You can’t fight the sound that leaves you. A soft mewl.
“Hnntoji!”
Back arching into it, needing more. Eyes unfocusing, you head slightly lulled back. A soft thud on the wall.
“Eyes on me.”
His free hand grips the back of your neck, pulling your face flush against his. Lips meeting in a hurried passionate kiss. Tongues entwining. Wet sounds of your lips filled the void.
“Mnnchu— Toji..I want more.”
“Yeah you want more?” He says in an almost whisper. Hot breath ghosting over your lips. You’re nodding pathetically, he can’t help but find it adorable. He snickers a bit.
“Tell me hm? Tell me sweet girl.” Eager eyes searching yours.
“I.. I need your fingers.” The words leave your lips so quietly, like a fragile thread of sound, barely audible. He catches them anyway. So focused on your every move. Watching your wet lips, a sensual glint in his eyes.
“Need to hear you baby.” He teases, a small smirk fighting his lips. You’re throbbing at the nicknames. Sounding so easy off his tongue.
“Your fingers… ‘need them.” Your eyes snap close in shame, a silent surrender. Cheeks deepened in colour, prominent. Lips quivering in small unnoticed waves.
“Yeah? Where d’ya want me?” Another taunt.
“..Inside.” You hesitate. An eye peeking open at him. Waiting. Hoping he doesn’t tease you some more.
“Hnnfuck yeah ya do.” With a groan, he brings his hands further down your body. Hurried tugs of your jeans and you’re left in your underpants only. Matching black with your bra, beautiful lace patterns on the top. His greedy eyes peer down at them. Sucking in a slow breath, his fingers tremble over them. As if he’s too scared to go any further. He’s not scared though. Far from it. He trails his index and middle down your shuddering stomach, passing your belly button, down to the top of your panties. Slowly hooking them into it, he’s dragging it down, past your sweaty thighs until it falls on its own.
A hand by the bottom of your thighs, he’s trailing it up, brushing against it. You’re waiting with a bated breath. Finally reaching your mound. Softly trimmed hairs sweep against his rigid fingers. He bites back a groan. You’re just there, eyes blown, helplessly waiting for him to keep going.
He has to fight his eyes away from your pussy.
“Gonna show me where your room is?” Haggard voice. So clearly affected by you.
“Y—yeah.”
He hauls you up into him, bulging biceps, your legs wrapped around his trimmed waist, arms around his neck, your face buried into it. Heavy thuds on the ground, he’s walking slowly. Almost too slow. Certain, assured that he’s going to have you. No arguments. Just measured steps as you lift your face off of him just a tad, timidly pointing to where your room is. He gives a small pat on your ass as thanks. It ripples under his massive hand.
Toji finds your bed, lowers you onto it so delicately as if you were something so fragile. His knees digging into the sheets. Shoes off. Still fully clothed while you lay bare for him. Large hands cradling your face, stroking softly. The look he’s giving you, so loving. Blushing cheeks, slightly ajar mouth. Hot puffs of air leaving every exhale. You’re giving him an equal stare. Dazed. Scared almost. Needy. His knuckles, brushing your heated cheeks. He felt the warmth. Knows how much you want this, just as bad as he does.
He’s leisurely taking his time with you. Running his hands from your cheeks to your neck. He lingers there. Giving you a soft squeeze, testing your limits. You don’t fight back. Can’t fight back.
The orgasm you had earlier, still fogging your brain. His thumb brushes the front of your neck before he continues down. To the valley between your breasts, your belly, to your lower belly. He points an index below your belly button still touching your soft skin.
“Gonna be in there soon.” He whispers. His voice, so quiet it sounds like awe. You just stare at him, a bit confused. Head tilting a little. Slightly squinted brows. Then your eyes follow down to where his finger touches you. Blinking softly. He chuckles at your unfocused gaze. You don’t understand. Not yet.
He continues drifting his fingers down, meeting your hairs. Your hips stutter only just a bit. He marvels at the movement. So sensitive. He brings his other hand down, pushing your thighs away from each other. Revealing a soaked you. Glistening pussy on display, your clit fairly protruding out, throbbing under his devoted eyes.
“Fuck me..” He murmurs. Breath hitching at the sight of you, all wet, all for him. You try to hide from him. Head turning to the side, digging into your pillow, face tucked into your elbows. You can’t see him now. He doesn’t mind.
Toji lowers his face, lining his mouth to your pussy. Deep heavy breaths escaping his lips, fanning your clit.
“Angh!” You jolt your hips. Pressing your face closer into your elbow. He darts his low eyes at your hidden face. Blows a cold, long breath on your clit.
“Hnn!” You’re mewling, voice muffled in your arms.
“Can you look at me..please.” His voice partly whiney.
You don’t want to. Too shy, too embarrassed to let him see you like this. It was all fun and games before. But it’s becoming too real. He blows at your clit once more. A tremor running through you, your lower body mainly. Small involuntary movements. You move an arm just above your eyes, you can see him a bit. He can see you too. The dilation of your eyes, the fuzzy look of it. The heaving of your chest, just enough that your tits bounce every inhale. It’s all too much for him. He shouldn’t have asked.
Once your eyes are on his, he moves. Closer now. Just a hair away from your weeping pussy. He juts a wet tongue out, pushing past his lips. Slowly, ever so slowly, curling the muscle against your clit. The moment you feel it, you whine. Teeth pulling at your lower lip. Not over his clothes, not over your clothes. His tongue. The raw thing.
He gives another slow curl, this time staring lower. Near your opening. Sliding upwards, meeting your clit before blowing. Cold. Shuddering, you try to close your thighs, locking his head in place. He’s quicker. Grabbing below your thighs, hiking them up on his broad wide shoulders.
“You’re okay. Hm?” He assures you before continuing.
He’s way stronger than you, you couldn’t fight back if you tried. He dives in again, sucking hard all of a sudden.
Slurrrp
Your heads lulled back, the front of your neck on full display. Holding in whines, that barely leave your lips. Arms still above you.
He brings his mouth off of your clit and blows again. Another wave of cold air gliding on your pussy.
“Fuck!” You moan out. Loud. You bring an arm down, your hand finding his hair, tugging him into you. He lets you. Forcing his face into your pussy.
Sucking, slurping. Full French kisses on your pussy. Tongue jutting out before sliding between your slit, not entering you yet, just parting you. It slides from the entrance of your hole up to your clit. He waits there, sucking the aching muscle into his mouth. Hollow pink cheeks. His eyes closed in pleasure. Admiration. His crush, letting him eat her out. He’s dreamed of this.
He teases his tongue, gliding lower, circling back up to your clit then lower again. You’re shaking violently, eyes tight shut, mouth hanging open. The sounds you tried so hard to fight back leaving you so easily now.
His tongue circles your hole. Pushing in slowly.
“Toji!” You mewl out to him. He knows you’re getting close.
He hums into you. You cry out. Back lifting. He removes his wet mouth again, an inch of distance from him and your pussy. He blows. A familiar coldness on your clit. Quivering hips, bucking into the coolness. Chasing that feeling. You’re crying now. Tears rolling down your cheeks, staining the sheets.
An abrupt orgasm ripping through you, a fast build up pooling at your stomach that you couldn’t realise quickly.
You’re shaking so much now, whining so much, thighs jutting beside him. Your chest heaving vigorously, tits swaying. He doesn’t stop.
Tongue plunging back in. Bringing a rough thumb to your clit. Circling it. You attempt to run away. Hips bucking the opposite direction. He uses his free hand and grounds you. Digging you into him, the bed. You can barely move. Just violent trembles as he eats your pussy.
“Insi— hngh!”
He fucks his way inside your pussy. Tongue delving in, whilst keeping harsh circles of his thumb on your clit. Fuck it’s all too much for you. No one’s ever done this before. He’s gonna ruin anyone else for you.
Shlck shlck
Wet noises of your pussy filling the room. He’s groaning into you. Deep baritone noises buried in your cunt. Your arms are everywhere now. Gripping the sheets below, your pillow above.
“Toooo much! Ugh!” Moaning loud. Your face twisting, burying the noises into your pillow.
He’s locked you in place. Moving is so much harder now. Meaty biceps flexing at every thrum of your clit. Your juices, his saliva drooling out the corners of his lips. He’s so into it. Engrossed. Eyes still closed, just feeling you. He’s overwhelming you. Pushing your body past limits you didn’t know you had.
You’re nearly there again. But it’s slightly different this time? It feels warmer. Wetter almost? You can’t really tell but you know it’s different.
“Toji! I think— hck! It’s ouhfuck!” Your voice pitches higher and higher, need tightening it, edged with a hint of fear.
He doesn’t stop. Still tongue fucking your pussy, pushing as deep as it can go. Thumb circling against your clit, harder, faster. It’s all too much. Your back’s arched in a gracious bow, hips lifted, legs falling on and off his shoulders. Tears clogging your vision. You can’t see him. The build up coiling so perfectly you can’t hold it in.
It’s everywhere, your juices spraying out, covering his face. Squirting all over. Pink cheeks stained in wetness. His glasses, fully fogged now wet.
“That’s it baby, let go f’r me.. mhmm soo good f’r me.” Thumb under your clit, pushing it higher, letting more of your juices out. He’s kissing your shakes thighs, wet open-mouthed. Sucking slightly. Trailing the kissing up to your knees, while humming praises at you.
Your wailing, sobbing. Breathing turns uneven, your chest stuttering at every tremble. Tits following along.
He sits up on his knees, bringing a wet hand removing his stained glasses, to the hem of his shirt, lifting it in one quick tug. Then his t-shirt underneath. Unbuttoning. Top to bottom. His low eyes still fixed on your quivering state. You roll your tired head upright, facing him. Watching. Chest falling softer now.
Sculpted, taut contours of his abdomen come into view, hard, rock-like muscles that look engraved. The t-shirt falls past his arms, beefy veiny biceps, strong forearms flexing as he removes it fully. You’re in awe. You knew Toji was strong but nothing like this. Sharp deep lines of his abdomen, the ease of his movements. You can’t take your eyes off.
He lowers his hands to his belt, unraveling the thing easily. He steps off of your bed for a second. Your eyes follow him. He’s dragging his slacks down. Two hard tugs and it pools at his ankles, he steps out of it. Dark hairs littered at his lower hard stomach.
You see the meaty indent of his boxers. Bulging, thick muscle fighting against the fabric, pushing at it. It’s so big. Much bigger than you thought. It throbs under your stare.
He’s put you under a spell. You see his hands come to the top of his boxers, his thumb hooking under, disappearing into his boxers. Your gasp goes unnoticed. Lips parted, eagerly waiting to see the rest of him. His thumb pulls down, fully exposing himself. You finally see it. Angry reddish tip, nearly purple, beady clear drops of precum leaking through, falling from the head nearing the base. Thick, girthy, too long. Distended veins running up the sides, a prominent one running up the top of his shaft. Heavy hanging balls, darker than the rest of him. It’s fucking huge. Full eight inches of raw cock. Your eyes almost pop out. Fully in disbelief of that fitting inside. It can’t possibly fit.
He hauls the boxer until it falls to his feet, steps out of it and onto the bed again. Knees digging back into the sheets. A weighted dent on the bed. Pure muscle. You haven’t stopped staring at it, nearly drooling, he’s eating up your reaction. Chuckling. Body vibrating at the rumble. You’re still in a daze, he’s gripping your hips, both hands, pulling you closer so your thighs rest atop his. Feet hanging off the side. He grabs the weapon in between his legs. Gives a few slow pumps of his fist. Squeezing at the tip, moaning low. You throb at the sound, shifting a little. Fingers tightly grasping the sheets below.
He lowers it, lining it with your clit, rubbing around it, circling it. Realll slow. Pushing into it, past it til the tips catches your hairs. He grunts at the feel. Heavy breath puffing out his nose. Brows knitted. You hiccup a broken moan. Lips parted. Wet.
He rubs it further into your hairs again, biting his lower lip before bringing it to your sopping hole. Both sodden. Hot.
A slow push of his hips, he’s entering. The tip stretching your virgin hole. Plush, mushroomed. He halts. The pressure, too fucking tight. He’ll work you open. Has to. He retracts his hips, turns you over so your back is against his chest. You're both laying on your side. It feels too intimate this way. He’s hugging your body so close to his. Spooning you. Not letting you go. A hand wrapped around your waist. The other, fondling your tits.
“Gonna take you this way.” His voice rumbles in your ear, he gives a steady long stripe of his tongue against it. A throaty groan leaving him. You wiggle on him, whining. Your ass bumping his cock every few turns.
He reaches a hand down to his cock, bringing it to your hole once again. Pushing in heavily. Tip nudging further. A few inches getting in. A quarter way. He brings his free arm up, covering your neck, your teeth gnawing at his swollen bicep, his forearm. Tears springing at the edges of your eyes. Wetting your lashes again.
“Hnngh!” You whinge out. Inaudible words pouring out.
“I know baby, I know.. I know it’s too big.” He encourages you, voice rough, laced in pleasure.
Another few inches forcing their way in.
“Toji! F—fuck!”
“Shh. I’ve got you.” He reassures.
He’s easing in slow. A couple more now. Your pussy sucking him in so well. Soo good. He’s nearly at the base. He abruptly stops. The wet heat of your cunt trapping him in place. Clinging onto him. He might cum if you move. He digs his face into your hair, breathing in deep, eyes fluttering. An unhurried push of his hips and he’s all in. Burly inches of his cock stretching you so deep. Your eyes are rolled back from the feel.
It’s not that it hurts. It did. But it was that uncomfortable stretch. The fullness of his cock edging deeper. An unfamiliar feeling yet, you felt completely whole.
Fully sheathed inside you. You feel it throbbing, every rigid vein, every pulse. Pressing at your cervix. Bruising.
“Fuck, ‘got a deep cunt— nghhfuck.”
“Toji.. please— something! Do something!” You cry into his elbow. Voice muffled. It hurts. An aching sensation. You feel little throbs of his cock hitting places you’ve never reached before. Never felt before. And he’s soo deep. Way too deep.
With a husky groan, he retreats his hips back and steadily rocks into you. Long, deep strokes thumping at your cervix. Balls hammering, his strong hips flush against your ass. Rippling with every thrust. The tip of his stiff cock, gliding through you, bumping your g-spot. You feel it once. Twice. Then you're smacking at his hip, arm reaching behind you. Pleading with him to let you go. It’s too good. You can’t take it.
“Ffuck off. Hnn!” Moaning, fussing into his flexed bicep. Wet eyes. You’re urging your shaky hips away. Scrambling forward, desperate.
“You want me to fuck off?” He sneers back at you. Laughing into the spot behind your ear. Breath fanning it.
“N—no. I don’t knoww.” You weep, sniffling. Tears pouring down his forearm.
“You don’t know?” He’s snickering.
His pace quickens. Deep fast strokes, you feel it in your throat. Your gaze turns unfocused, eyes forced back. Your nose buried in his arm, hot breaths leaving your soppy lips. You’re kissing his arm. Biting. Marking him. Grounding yourself as he plummets your insides. Turning you to a putty mess. You’re gone. So far gone. He’s snaking a hand up, pinching your nipples, rolling the buds in his fingers. You’re wailing loud. Juddering.
A familiar torrid ache forming at your lower belly.
“O—oh my godhnn!” It doesn’t even settle in your belly. Wrenching out of you intensely. So incredibly. You couldn’t hold it in even if you tried. Too sensitive.
“Nghh!” With a groan, you’re coming down. Tits bouncing, your body so very warm. He’s helping you through it. Slower strokes. Still bumping your spot. You whimper.
“Nghstopp!” Crying out, begging. A hand clutching at his, scratching. The other, clasping at the wet sheets. Smudged with the mixture of sweat and cum.
He doesn’t stop. Instead, he hauls his burly body, shifting his weight so he’s fully on top of you. His face, closer to you. Near your left ear. You’re crushed underneath him. Belly flat on the bed. He’s locking an arm around your neck once again, bringing the hand on that arm to your face, covering it. You can’t move, at all. He’s clamped your lower body in place. His other arm, steady beside you. Contorted. Tensed. His veins are more prominent like this.
Wet lashes brushing your cheeks, your mouth now muffled in his larger hand.
“Mhhhhn!” You try to kick your legs, but it can only fold at the knee. Your claves touching the back of your thighs. You can’t move your thighs. Can’t part them. His hefty body won’t allow you.
He does a lengthy grind into you. His happy trail flushed at your ass. He hasn’t pulled out the entire time, not giving you an ounce of space.
He keeps at it. Deep grinds, his tip knocking at your cervix. Pressed so heavy against it. Stretching you impossibly further.
Haggard breaths, uneven moans brush at your ear. He’s getting closer now. Hips stuttering in broken circles.
You’re completely out of it. Dumbed. Fully. Can’t think of anything but the feel of his cock so far deep in your pussy. The veins. The bumps. And god you’re so sensitive. Another quickening build up of warmth steadily rising in your stomach.
“Fuckfuckfuck—”
Another few irregular rolls of his hips and he’s cumming. White thick hot beads of cum discharging into you. He won’t stop moving. Pushing it as deep as it can go, making sure you don’t spill a drop.
You’re numb. Body limp under him. Arms flat at your sides. Eyes fully rolled back, coarse hot air puffing past your lips.
He’s grunting atop of you. Moaning low, still feeling the white hot pleasure of his cum, your pussy. Especially your pussy.
He brings an arm up, rough hands palming, rubbing your back in slow gentle movements.
“From now on, just let me teach you everything, yeah?”
˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚
A/n: lawdfddd I need him so bad. Also this wasn’t proofread.
these men will send you straight to pound town– no buts, no warnings, no room to escape. they can slow down only if you beg them to, but they'd rather not. they'll be rough, clapping your ass with no mercy.
toji is the type to fuck you in the air, by leaning you on the wall, or just by literally standing anywhere.
he is not one for patience or gentle switching of positions and prefers to take you where you are, turning any ordinary space into his playground. whether he pins you against the wall, hoists you up mid-air, or simply positions himself wherever you happen to be, he takes control of the entire space with absolute ease.
he favors it the most when you're completely lifted up by the ass, cradling your weight as if you weigh nothing at all. with this position, he has complete leeway and leniency to unleash every ounce of his raw speed and unrelenting roughness. not to mention, he has terrifying and inhuman core strength and stamina, he can fuck you for hours on end without a single sign of fatigue. his arms and legs never tremble, pounding away until you are thoroughly breathless and aching.
he loves it when you're held in his arms, he feels that it strips away all your defenses. loving the sheer helplessness of your face, watching you turn into a drooling mess, clinging desperately to his neck. with a bruising, vice-like grip, he'd hold onto your bare ass cheeks, dictating every single rhythm, bucking his hips upward to meet you, aggressively guiding your body down onto his length, leaving you entirely at the mercy of his relentless pace and control.
where would he cum? inside you.
sukuna is really aggressive, the type to push your head down on the mattress until you're fucked dumb.
sukuna has a fixation on pounding you from behind, revealing an unapologetic obsession with your body from that angle. seeing your bare back, your ass dribbling below his own bare skin, your pathetic side profile coming to glance at him from down below as he keeps up with the constant pace. to him, your bare back is nothing less than an untouched canvas waiting to be aggressively claimed and slowly ruined with evidence of his dominance. the moment his eyes traces the protruding line of your shoulder blades and the vulnerable expanse of skin beneath them unmarked and blank, it acts as an immediate trigger. you'll instantly feel his sharp teeth sinking deep into your flesh, biting and sucking harshly while his hips hammer into you.
and of course, his backshots aren't complete without ensuring either your face is roughly shoved down into the mattress or a handful of your hair is clenched in his fist, yanking your head back until you are forced to meet his predatory eyes. looking down into your glossy gaze while he buries himself deep inside you pushes him straight to the edge of berserk, completely intoxicated by the sight of your total submission and your silent willingness to let him tear your hole apart.
where would he cum? on your lower back or across your spine.
naoya makes you ride him first like the petty piece of shit he is, but when it's his turn to move– expect that you won't be able to get the slightest inaudible sound out of your mouth.
he absolutely relishes at the sight of you riding him, wearing that infuriating, dumb smirk as your movements grow increasingly shaky and unstable from pumping yourself up and down on his length. he waits, a calculated precinct where you finally settle above him, utterly exhausted and panting, lured into a false sense of security where you expect no sudden movements. he waits and waits until he sees you won't even have any leverage or strength left to stop him. that precise moment of vulnerability is when he strikes, violently driving his knees up and thrusting heavily from underneath to catch you entirely off guard.
it extends more into humiliation, spreading your bare ass cheeks apart as he plows into you from below. every soft, broken cry you whimper directly into his ear is what conducts his persistent pace, driving him completely feral as he slams upward against you with intense and unrefined force.
where would he cum? inside you.
slow to fast: gojo, higuruma
these two love building up the pace, starting up slow before going full on speed and fucking you rough almost at the same pace as the guys above. though they go on a much average speed, the mixed pace is what keeps you wanting for more.
gojo is another piece of shit that loves one-upping you in the most unexpected times. going from slow to fast just to see the change of cadence on your moans.
he easily unravels the moment you make a sound, completely losing his composure to the sweet sound of your voice as you tighten around him. you could feel him growing noticeably fuller inside you against the dullness and laziness of his initial pace. over time, whatever conscious restraint or fragile promise he made to be gentle shatters entirely. one single glimpse on your flushed and fucked out face is all it takes for him to completely abandon the torturing and agonizing pace all at once.
he's convinced that he's the one in control, playing a cruel game of sweet torture by keeping his movements deliberately slow. but in reality, he's the one being sent over the edge, the quiet and steady momentum eventually makes him lose his patience, turning him demanding and desperate for faster and hard pounding.
where would he cum? on your face.
higuruma basically just loves to play with the pace, building up the tension, allowing your juices to spread more across his length before making the sloshy sounds of your wetness a part of his increasing speed's harmony.
what always starts as a lazy, rolling rhythm later becomes an unforgiving speed. his grip on your waist tightens and his hips plunge forward harsher. the gentle, slipping friction sharpens into a hard, bashing force, burying the sound of his ragged breaths against your neck with loud and sharp smacks of his skin onto yours.
he starts slow, tall with his back rigidly straight, but the moment he leans his weight forward, pressing his chest against yours– everything changes. his hand tangles in your hair to force your head lower, using total leverage to drive you down and swallow every inch of his length as he hammers relentlessly from above.
where would he cum? on your stomach.
slow and steady: nanami, choso
what else do i have to say other than they know a woman's body and could actually make you orgasm through penetration? though it happens rarely without clitoral stimulation, they both know how to keep the pace constant until you're creaming around them.
nanami loves to fuck you slow in missionary, allowing you to bask in his slow movements and melt into his affectionate and heated touch.
he's a romantic. approaching intimacy with a quiet reverence, preferring a slow, measured pace that allows you to be intimately aware of every single inch of his cock gliding along the crevices of your walls. he believes that keeping his thrusts slow allows you to feel the totality of his touch, the way his lips gently press against yours, the tender way his hands caress and shape your waist, and the steady roll of his hips moving above you.
he's deeply vocal, entirely captivated by how you look beneath him. he will pause to brush the stray, sweat-dampened hairs clinging onto your flushed face, carefully tucking them behind your ear before pressing a tender kiss on your forehead. he is the kind of man to murmur quiet, grounding professions of love directly against your skin, whispering those three words in the middle of it all as he holds you close.
where would he cum? your choice.
choso loves fucking you slow on the side, spooning you, and wrapping his arms around you while he slowly moves behind you.
he loves the absolute surrender it gives you in this position, your back pressed firmly against his broad chest, your body cradled by his as he glides in and out of you with a steady pace. his arms would wrap entirely around your waist, pulling you as tight and closely possible while his hands roam over your breasts, fondling and teasing your nipples while his lips press hot and wet kisses, nibbling and licking at your earlobe. he thrives on how completely trapped and overwhelmed you are in his embrace, leaving you with nowhere else to put your hands on, except to reach blindly behind you, tangling your fingers in his hair or digging your nails into his forearm as helpless moans spill from your lips.
to break the quiet monotony of his steady pace, he would occasionally slide his hand down between you, licking and spitting over his fingers before pressing them heavily against your clit, working his fingers in slow circles right as his hips push deeper into you, driving you to the edge while keeping you securely locked in his arms.
where would he cum? on your inner thighs.
full withdrawal thrusting: geto
he loves doing this shit, pulling everything out completely before plunging it inside of you back again. he thrusts in a mixed pace, just as long as he could pause for awhile and let you feel the sudden emptiness.
geto loves watching how his cock completely disappears into your hole, eyes fixated down below as he rests one of your legs on his shoulders.
he loves the absolute exposure of your body sprawled out beneath him, legs thrown wide apart with your cunt glistening slick and wet. he loves seeing you panting and sighing sweetly. the two of you share the obscene view of him sliding in and out of your hole. his mouth parts slightly, hot, heavy breaths washing over your skin as he stares unblinkingly at the way his thick length buries itself deep inside your walls.
every sharp gasp you let out when he bottoms out brings a new kind of cruelty to his expression, especially when your teeth slip away from the bruised, reddened skin of your lower lip where you had been biting down on. seeing your face contort and scrunch into that dizzying look of pure bliss only pushes him to do it over and over again.
"I-it was a letter, Kuna!" you moaned into the pillows. Your voice was muffled under the pressure of his hand keeping you still.
"Seduction, no less, I-I have duties that you cannot seem to let me attend to." He grumbled, soft groans slipping through his pursed lips.
You couldn't help that he got turned on by your handwriting! It kind of concerned you the lengths and distances he would go.
The parchment lay crumpled beside your head, ink bleeding into the silk sheets where his clawed thumb had pressed too hard, too eager.
Your penmanship, loops and swirls of diplomatic correspondence, had done this. Had summoned him from his throne, from the matters of curses and domains and territories he claimed to prioritize over you.
His lower hands gripped the meat of your hips, fingers dimpling the flesh hard enough to bruise. The upper set bracketed your shoulders, one palm flattening against the back of your skull, the other splayed across your spine, keeping you exactly where he wanted you.
"You think I cannot read between the lines, woman?" His voice rumbled through his chest, through the floor, through you. "The way you dot your i's. The curve of your p's. Practically begging."
What the fuck is he talking about? You thought momentarily.
You tried to shake your head, to protest, but he pressed down harder, your cheek grinding against the ruined letter. The ink smeared, your words becoming illegible. ‘Your Excellency, the eastern territories require-’
His cocks pressed against you, both of them. The weight of them settled against the cleft of your ass, the slick heat of your cunt, and you could feel every throbbing inch, every ridged vein. He hadn't even entered you yet, and already your thighs were trembling.
"The last time you wrote to me," he continued, his voice dropping into something darker, something that made your stomach clench, "you signed it with such care. Such precision."
His hips rolled, the heavy shafts dragging against your wetness, coating themselves in the arousal that had started the moment you heard his footsteps. "I kept it. Did you know that? Between the pages of texts even I shouldn't possess."
The thought of him sitting in his private chambers, reviewing your neat, proper handwriting with those crimson eyes, touching the paper the way he touched you. "You are strange," you breathed, and the words came out wrong. Came out worshipful.
His laugh was low, mean, the sound vibrating through the stomach-mouth that pressed against your lower back. That mouth's tongue-forked, hungry-licked a wet stripe up your spine, tasting your salt, your fear, your desperate want.
"My ‘strangeness’ you seem to enjoy," he agreed, and there was no shame in his voice.
The first cock nudged against your entrance, the blunt head spreading you open, and you gasped, your fingers scrabbling at the sheets. He didn't push in.
He waited, letting you feel the threat of it. His pink hair had fallen across his brow, sweat already beginning to darken the strands. His eyes were half-lidded, blown wide with lust, the red irises nearly swallowed by black.
"You want to know what I did with your letter, little scribe?"
"I-" Your voice cracked when he shifted, the head of his cock catching against your clit, sliding through your folds with deliberate cruelty. "What did you do?" His grin split wider, and his hips snapped forward. The first cock buried itself to the hilt in one brutal stroke, and your scream was swallowed by the pillows, by his hand, by the sheer size of him stretching you open.
Your vision whited out, stars bursting behind your eyelids as your body fought to accommodate him. He was too big. He was always too big, and you would never get used to it, would never stop feeling like a vessel being filled beyond capacity.
"Touched myself with it," he growled against your ear, his breath hot, his chest pressing against your back. The second cock nestled against the first, pressing against your stretched rim, threatening to join it.
"Wrapped that pretty letter around my cock and imagined it was your throat. Your cunt. Your hand." You moaned, long and broken, and he laughed again, cruel and delighted.
"Got it all wet. Ruined your neat little words. Couldn't even read the damn thing after, just a mess of ink.” He thrust, shallow and sharp, making you jolt.
His lower hands slid up your sides, claws dragging against your ribs, not breaking skin but promising they could. The upper hands returned to their positions, one on your head, one on your spine.
He pulled out until only the tip remained, letting your body clutch at him, desperate to keep him inside, then slammed back in with enough force to shove you up the bed. Your knees slid against the silk, your nails tore at the fabric.
"Count," he ordered, and the word was ragged, his composure beginning to crack.
"What?" His hand tightened in your hair, yanking your head back until your spine arched, until you could see the ceiling, the shadows, the madness in his eyes.
"Every letter. Every word you used to tempt me." His hips snapped harder, faster, the second cock now pressing against your entrance, the pressure building, building, building. "I want to hear you apologize for each one."
"I wasn't-"
"One," he commanded, and his second cock pushed in. Your body seized. Your mind went blank. The stretch was unimaginable, two of him filling you, splitting you, rearranging your insides until you weren't sure where he ended, and you began. The burn was fire, was pleasure, was pain, was everything all at once, and you couldn't breathe, couldn't think, all you could do was feel. "Say it."
"One," you sobbed, and he rewarded you with a thrust that made your toes curl.
"Good girl. Next word. The first one that made me hard."
"T-Territories," you gasped, because that was the first word you could recall, the one that started it all.
His laugh was dark, approving. "Territories. Yes. You wanted to discuss territories with me." He punctuated the word with a thrust that made your eyes roll back. “As if,” he scoffed. The hand in your hair released you, and you slumped forward, gasping, only to feel his palm come down on your ass in a sharp, stinging slap.
The sound echoed through the chambers, mixing with your cry, with the wet slap of his hips against your skin. "Keep going."
"E-Eastern," you managed, your voice breaking.
"Eastern territories." Another slap, harder this time, and you could feel the heat blooming across your skin, the imprint of his hand spreading like a brand onto your flesh.
His pace grew brutal, insane, the bed shaking beneath you, the headboard cracking against the wall. He was lost in it now, in you, all pretense of control dissolving into pure, animal need. His claws dug into your hips, his teeth grazed your shoulder, and the mouth on his stomach pressed open-mouthed kisses against your back, tasting every inch of skin it could reach.
"R-Respectfully-" you tried, and he laughed so hard his rhythm stuttered.
"That's it. That's the sound I kept your letter for." His voice was ragged now, his hips pistoning, his skin slapping against yours with a rhythm that bordered on violence.
Your climax was building, a wave so high you couldn't see the top, couldn't breathe for the pressure of it. He felt it too. The way your cunt was squeezing him, milking him, trying to pull him deeper, trying to keep him forever.
"Cum," he ordered, and his voice was absolute, was law. "Cum on my cocks and show me what you wrote that letter for."
The orgasm ripped through you like a blade, like fire, like every nerve in your body igniting at once. Your back arched, your mouth opened in a silent scream, and your cunt clamped down on him so hard he groaned, long and deep, his rhythm faltering as you pulsed around him, as your slick gushed down his shafts, as you painted him with the proof of your pleasure.
Your body was still spasming when he pushed through it, still shaking when he fucked you through the aftershocks, still gasping when he finally, finally let himself go.
His hips slammed into you one last time, burying both cocks to the hilt, and you felt him pulse inside you, felt the hot flood of his release fill you, spill out of you, drip down your thighs in thick, white ropes.
He came for what felt like minutes, his body shuddering against yours, his arms tightening until you couldn't move. You let your body slump against the sheets; you know you will be here for a while.
CHOSO ♡ KAMO
"Hello everyone! Welcome back to the stream." You greeted your camera, adjusted to an unfamiliar angle in an unfamiliar room. Choso's fingers hovered over his keyboard to ask where you were, even if he knew. He couldn't let his top commenter spot go.
The chat exploded with greetings and comments about the unexpected stream. You're usually strict on your schedule, and multiple streams in one week were rare.
T3_Sahur: ur better than El Cinco
Yuki Supremacy: Haii!! Can you please play the new update of the last stream's game????
SixSevenEyes: {@T3_Sahur} ur taking it too far, el cinco tops
"Okay, okay! No game today, just wanted to talk." You interacted with chat for a bit. Usually, Choso was the first to comment and get noticed by you, but his hands were busy stroking his cock to your voice. He had missed it since he last saw you. Begging for you to take him to New York with you, it was only for a day, but the thought of you being so far away for so long was too much on his heart, and the dwindling supply of lotion.
He double-clicked his mouse, zooming in on your face. The comments were distracting, and instead of saying their usernames and repeating comments, he wished you'd say his name. Call out to him, touch him, tell him what to do next.
His hands were nothing like yours, so soft and pretty. He imagined yours instead of his, stroking his cock, bringing him closer to the edge. Grabbing his phone from off the ledge, he took a picture of cock. The notification sounded through the screen. Picking up your phone, your eyes widened suddenly. Quickly looking up at your monitor, making sure the audience could not see the obscene picture Choso had sent.
Under the photo, he typed impatiently, 'Say my name plzz.'
Your hand darts out, phone face down on the desk before anyone can see. The motion is too quick.
KenjakuFanAccount: oop what was that
lovesick_angel: did ur phone scare u LOL
RamenKing55: sus
You laugh it off, the sound tight in your throat. "Sorry, sorry. Just the notification scared me. You know how it is."
Your fingers itch to pick the phone back up, to look at the picture again, his thick cock, pink at the tip, wetness beading at the slit, his hand wrapped around the base with those silver rings glinting.
Three dots. He's typing.
Choso: i miss u so much it hurts
Choso: ur so pretty on camera
Choso: please say it
"Um—" Your voice cracks. You grab your water bottle, take a long sip, and let the cool liquid ground you. "No, I haven't been there," you hummed. Picking up your phone, pretending to look up the restaurant. Instead of a Google search, it was different angles of your boyfriend's cock begging for you.
"Choso would love it there."
He moaned into your panties, taking them from the laundry. He needed you on him, and this was the closest he was going to get to smelling your sweet pussy. His tongue lapped up the gusset, tasting the leftover fluids on his tongue.
His hips buck into his fist at the sound of his name falling from your lips. Choso. The way you said his name could make him cum in his pants, no matter how many times you've said it.
He wished you weren't currently sitting in a hotel room thousands of miles away while he was suffocating himself in your worn panties, cock leaking all over his stomach.
The screen blurs for a moment as his eyes roll back. He blinks rapidly, forcing himself to focus on your face.
His phone buzzes again, but he doesn't pick it up. Can't. Both hands are occupied now—one fisting his cock, the other pressing your panties to his face so hard the elastic digs into his cheeks. He inhales deep, greedy, like a man drowning. The scent of you floods his lungs, settles in his chest, makes his head spin.
On screen, you're talking about something. The restaurant. Some place he's never heard of, some place you went without him. The thought makes something dark curl in his gut. His grip tightens, thumb swiping over the head of his cock, spreading pre-cum down the shaft. He should be there. He should be in you, not jerking off to your voice.
"I think he'd order the spiciest thing on the menu," you're saying, and your voice has gone softer now, more distracted. Your eyes flick down to your phone, then away. "He's like that. Can't help himself. Always to the extreme."
Choso whines, the sound muffled by the cotton pressed against his mouth.
The chat scrolls faster.
AppleBottomJeans: who's choeso???
RamenKing55: {@AppleBottomJeans} her bf bro catch up
SixSevenEyes: El cinco better
He wants to comment. Wants to type something, anything, just to see his name in the chat, to have you read it aloud in your voice that makes his balls draw up tight.
"Anyway," you say suddenly, sitting up straighter. The movement makes your shirt— his shirt, he realizes with a jolt that has pre-cum dripping down his knuckles, rides up, showing a strip of skin he wants to sink his teeth into.
His free hand leaves his cock, grabbing his phone with shaking fingers. The screen is slick with pre-cum, but he doesn't care. He opens the camera, angles it down, takes a picture of his flushed cock, the veins standing out, the way his balls are drawn up tight and aching.
He doesn't type anything this time. Just sends it. Watches your face as your phone buzzes again.
You don't pick it up immediately this time. You keep talking, something about the trip, about the project, about the schedule. But your eyes keep darting to the phone. Your leg is bouncing under the desk. Your chest is rising and falling a little faster than it should be.
Please, he thinks, gripping his cock again, stroking slowly and deliberately. He begs you to pick it up. Look at it. Think about him inside you, filling you up.
The phone buzzes again. And again. He's sent three more photos now, each one filthier than the last. Finally, you pick it up.
Your eyes widen. Your throat works as you swallow. And Choso watches, hypnotized, as your thighs press together under the desk. "Sorry," you say, and your voice is rough now, strained. "Just someone keeps texting me. It's distracting."
You laugh, but it's hollow. "It's not important."
Choso's hand stills. He's typing before he can stop himself, thumbs flying across the screen.
Choso: no one important???
Choso: i made u cum three times before i left
Choso: remember? u were crying so pretty on my cock
Your phone buzzes five times in quick succession. You don't pick it up. You keep talking, keep pretending, but your hand is trembling where it rests on the desk.
His cock aches. Fist fucking his cock vigorously. His eyes roll to the back of his head as he comes. Bringing the fabric from his face, he presses it to the tip of his cock, soaking the fabric in his cum. He sends another picture. This one is your panties stretched over his cock, the fabric dark and wet.
"I have to go," you say suddenly, and your voice cracks on the last word. "Stream's over. I'll schedule something for next week. Bye."
The screen goes black. A few moments later, a message pops up. Pink panties, the gusset soaked in your juices. 'Just wait till I get home.'
He knows you intended it as a warning, but it only made his cock grow harder.
TOJI ♡ FUSHIGURO
Toji rarely checked his phone during a job; however, boredom was taking over. His hands fiddling with the earpiece readily in his ear. The vibration of his phone in his deep pockets was an escape from the stakeout.
Three full days of torture, not only had he not left the truck, but he didnt even get to see his sweet wife. If it weren't for the payout, he would never take jobs like these. Green eyes narrow against the glare, expecting another useless update from the client.
Instead, his thumb hovers. A message from you. A picture. He clicks it before he can think. It's a mirror shot.
Your phone is angled just so, a big black shirt hanging off your skin. A loose hand pulling at the collar, a bit of cleavage peaking through the material. The bathroom light catches the sheen of what looks like oil on your skin, highlighting the plush swell of your thigh. Your lips are visible in the reflection, parted slightly.
Toji's jaw tightens. His cock, already half-hard from days of nothing but monotony, was pulsing against his thigh. He can almost feel the warmth of your skin under his palms, the way you'd arch into him if he pressed you against the cool bathroom mirror.
A low, guttural sound rumbles in his chest. His grip on the phone tightens until the plastic creaks. He can practically hear the wet, slick sounds his fingers could make, can picture the way your lips would part, the little breathy gasps you'd let out accompanied by his name.
He doesn't think. He hits the call button. It rings once. Twice. His patience, already a frayed wire, snaps.
"Pick up," he growls to the empty truck, his voice a gravelly rasp.
On the third ring, there's a click, and then your voice.
“Toji?"
"Nah," he cuts off, his voice low. "Don't just send me shut like that and play it cool." His own hand drops from the phone, palming the heavy, aching length of his cock through his cargo pants. The coarse material rubs against the sensitive head, and he has to bite back a groan.
"My day was great, thank you," you scoffed, "I can't miss you?" he could hear the faint sound of water running and turning off.
"I missed you too," he grunts, finally giving in and unzipping his pants. He's thick, heavy in his own hand, the skin hot. He wraps his fingers around the base, giving a slow, tight stroke. "Talk to me, baby. What are you doing?"
“Just got out of the shower, might watch a movie,” you hummed, voice soft against the microphone. The sound of a drawer sliding open, the soft jostle of fabric.
"Don't," he says, "Don't put anything on yet."
"What?"
"The movie. Keep talking to me," he rasps, working his fist up his shaft, pre-cum beading at the tip. "Haven't heard your voice in ages."
There's a pause, the soft pad of bare feet against tile. Then the whisper of fabric, the rustle of cotton sliding over skin. He can picture the shirt falling against your thighs, the way the worn material would cling to the curve of your breasts. “It's been three days, Toji,” you chuckled softly.
“That's a long time,” he groaned. The sound of your soft laugh crackles through the speaker, and he swears he can feel it against his neck. He fists himself tighter, slower, the way you like it when he's being mean.
"A long time," you echo, voice low. "You sound busy."
"Just sittin' in a truck," he grits out, thumb swiping over the head of his cock, spreading the wetness there. The movement makes his hips jerk, a barely restrained snap of muscle. "B-bored out my fuckin' mind."
"Bored?" The word lilts up at the end, and he hears the soft creak of the bed. The one he should be in right now should be pressed against you, not sitting in some stale truck. "Or lonely?"
"Both," he growls, and he can hear the edge in his own voice. The one that usually makes you shiver, makes you press your thighs together. "Miss you. Miss watchin' you fall apart on my cock."
A sharp exhale from your end. The rustle of sheets.
He closes his eyes and sees it: you sprawled across their bed, that black shirt riding up your thighs, your hand drifting down. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," he breathes, working his length in firm, practiced strokes. His forearm flexes, veins standing out against scarred skin. "You touchin' yourself right now, baby? Got that hand between your legs?"
"Maybe," you whisper, and he can hear the smile in your voice.
His grip tightens. "Don't play with me."
"I'm not playing," you purred, and the hitch in your breath tells him everything. Your fingers are doing exactly what he'd be doing if he were there. Circling slowly. Teasing. "Just...thinking about you."
"Sure." His strokes get rougher, the wet sounds of his fist working his cock filling the truck. “What're you thinkin' about, sweetheart? How I'd have you bent over that sink? How would I pull that wet hair back and make you watch yourself in the mirror while I fuck you slowly?"
Your breath stutters. "Toji.”
"That's right," he grunts, voice dropping lower, meaner. "Want you spread open on my cock, just how you like it.”
"Yes," you gasp, and he knows you're not just playing along. He knows that breathy little sound, the way it cracks in the middle. Your fingers are buried inside yourself right now, curling just right. "Wish you were here.”
"Missed you," you whimper, and he hears the wet sounds of your fingers moving faster, faster. "Missed your cock. Missed how full you make me."
"I'll be back soon," he promises, voice ragged. He's pumping his fist in rhythm with the sounds coming through the phone, the slick slide of your fingers, your desperate little gasps. "Gonna fill this pussy up so good. Gonna fuck you 'til you can't walk straight."
"You better," you gasp. "Please, Toji, I'm-"
"I know," he cuts you off, his own release coiling hot and tight at the base of his spine. "Let me hear it. Wanna hear you come for me."
Your soft moans echo through the speaker, and it sends him over. He comes with a guttural sound, thick ropes of it spilling over his knuckles, hitting the steering wheel, his thigh.
His hips jerk through it, muscles locked tight, eyes screwed shut as he pictures your face, your slick fingers, the way your thighs would shake against his hips.
"Who taught you to talk like that?” you questioned, a yawn escaping your lips.
"Don't worry about it." He glances down at the mess on his hand, the streak of white across his cargo pants. You snicked through the phone. "Clean yourself up, sweetheart. Don't want you fallin' asleep all sticky."
A soft laugh. "Sure."
The line clicks, and he's left in the dark again, the truck's stale air pressing in. But his skin is still humming, your voice still ringing in his ears. He looks at the picture one more time before he swipes it closed, tucking his phone back into his pocket.
A voice comes through his ear, “Fushiguro. Heres a small reminder. I can hear you in the fucking truck. With the earpiece in your ear,” Shiu’s voice laced with anger. It took everything in Toji not to laugh.
“Next time, take it off!”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Hope you enjoyed the show.”
SUGURU ♡ GETO
The phone buzzes against the polished wood of the altar.
Suguru doesn’t look at it immediately. His fingers are steepled beneath his chin, dark eyes half-lidded as he listens to the droning supplication of a new follower, some desperate woman with trembling hands and a story about curses that he’s already forgotten.
The phone buzzes again.
He exhales slowly through his nose, patience thinning. His long fingers slide across the altar’s surface, retrieving the device with a languid grace that makes the woman’s voice falter mid-sentence. She watches him, wide-eyed.
The screen glows.
His thumb stills over the image, veins in his hand tightening as he registers what exactly he’s looking at. The new robes. The ones he had tailored for you personally, silk that cost more than these monkeys' monthly offerings. But you’ve adjusted them. The obi sits too low on your hips, loosened. The collar hangs open, exposing the slope of your shoulder, the pale column of your throat, the shadowed valley between your breasts where the fabric pools like spilled wine.
Miss you.
Suguru’s jaw ticks. His tongue runs along the inside of his teeth.
He looks up at the woman kneeling before him, her mouth still moving around words he no longer hears.
“We’ll continue this another time,” he says, and there’s no room for argument in his voice. The woman scrambles to her feet, bowing so low her forehead nearly touches the tatami.
He doesn’t watch her go. His attention has already returned to the phone, thumb dragging across the screen to pull the image up again.
He waits until the shoji screen slides shut, until the footsteps fade down the corridor. It rings once before you pick up. He hears the breath you let out, the way it shudders at the edges.
“Suguru.”
He leans back in his seat, the carved wood digging into his spine, and lets his voice drop to that register he knows makes your thighs press together. “Texting me in the middle of my work.”
“You said you liked the robes.” Your voice is light, “I wanted to show you how they fit.”
“Is that what you were doing?” His fingers trace the screen again, tracing the shape of your hip through the silk. “Looked to me like you were doing something else.”
He hears the soft exhale of your laugh, the rustle of fabric. He imagines you shifting where you’re sitting— probably his bed, he thinks.
“I was thinking about you,” you say.
“Yeah?” His thumb presses the speaker icon, sets the phone down on the altar beside him. The image stays up, bathing the dark wood in soft light. “Tell me exactly what you were thinking.”
“I was thinking,” you start, and your voice has dropped, gone husky in that way that makes his cock twitch against his thigh, “about the last time you had me in these. How you said the purple made my skin look…”
He remembers dragging the silk up your thighs, bunching it around your waist. You’d gasped when he pressed his mouth to the inside of your knee, your hip, the soft swell of your belly. He’d worked his way up slowly until you were trembling apart beneath him.
“I remember,” he says quietly.
“Suguru.”
“Did you get the robes wet, sweetheart? After you took that picture?” His hand moves without thinking, palm pressing against the front of his trousers. “Tell me.”
There’s a moment of silence, and then the unmistakable sound of fabric shifting. You’re moving, he realizes. Settling back against something. He can picture you perfectly, hair spread across his pillows, one hand still holding the phone, the other drifting down your stomach.
“Yes,” you breathe.
“Continue,”
“I thought…” Another rustle. Your voice goes tighter. “I thought you might tell me to touch myself. Since you’re not here to do it.”
Suguru’s eyes close. His thumb circles the head of his cock through the fabric, pressure just shy of enough. He can feel himself hardening fully now, pressing against the confines of his robes.
“Put the phone down,” he ordered. “Prop it up. I want to see you.”
He hears the clatter of the device being set against something. He picks his phone back up, switches to video.
You’re sprawled across his bed like an offering, the robes still half-on, half-off, the silk bunched around your hips in dark purple waves. One of your hands is pressed flat against your stomach, fingers just grazing the waistband of the robes. The other is beside your head, fingers curled into the sheets.
“There you are,” he purrs, watching you shiver at the sound of his voice. “Look at you. Gorgeous.”
“Come home,” you whisper, voice begging for him and his attention.
“Soon.” He traces your shape on the screen, wishing it were skin. “You know I would if I could. But I’ve got business to finish here.”
“More important than me?”
The question is teasing, but there’s an edge to it. He knows this game. “We have a mission.” He undoes the ties of his robes, letting them fall open. Watches your eyes go wide and dark on the screen. “But you’re the one who sent me that picture in the middle of my meeting. So you can wait a little longer, can’t you?”
You swallow. “How long?” There's a hint of disappointment underneath your tone.
“Patience, love, patience.” His hand wraps around his cock, gives it a slow, deliberate stroke. “Now. Show me what you were doing before I called.” Your thighs press together, but your hand slides lower, fingers hooking into the silk. You push the fabric aside, bare and wet, the folds of your cunt glistening in the dim light.
“That’s it.” His voice has gone rough, thumb swiping over his tip, collecting leaking pre-cum. Your fingers slide through your slick, spreading it, and a sound escapes your throat that he feels in his own. His hand moves faster, matching the rhythm you’re starting to build.
The room is silent except for the wet sounds of you touching yourself, the soft hitch of your breath, the occasional groan he lets slip.
“Wish that was me,” he says, watching your fingers circle your clit. “Wish I were there. I’d spread you open on this cock so slow you’d feel every inch. Make you beg for it.”
“Sugu-” Your voice breaks, hips lifting off the bed. “Please.”
“Please, what?”
“Please talk to me. Tell me what you’d do.”
He leans forward, eyes fixed on the screen. His hand hasn’t stopped moving, the rhythm steady and punishing.
“I’d start with that pretty mouth,” he says, voice low. “Been too long since I felt those lips around me. Let me fuck your throat until you’re crying.”
Your moan is desperate, fingers pressing harder against yourself. He sees your hips start to rock, chasing the pressure. “Then I’d put you on the bed. Just like that.” He gestures at the screen, at your sprawled, open body. “Spread these thighs wide and bury my face between them. Wouldn’t stop until you came on my tongue.”
You hummed, nodding your head to his words.
“Then, I’d press my cock up against your pussy.” He strokes himself faster, watching your face contort, watching your body arch off the sheets. “Fill you up so good. Make you take all of it. Every fucking inch. You’d be so tight around me, wouldn’t you?"
Your hand is a blur between your legs now, your other hand gripping your breast, pinching the nipple. Your mouth is open, sounds spilling out.
“You’d come for me,” he continues, his own breathing harsh, his hips starting to thrust into his fist.
“I’m so close-”
“Let go.” His voice cracks on the words, authority fracturing into something rawer. “Let go for me, sweetheart. Wanna watch you fall apart. Wanna see it.”
Your body seizes, mouth falling open in a soundless cry, and he watches your thighs clamp shut around your hand as you come, shaking, shuddering, your whole frame drawn tight as a bowstring before releasing.
The sounds you make are broken, beautiful, and he lets himself tip over the edge after you with a groan he doesn’t bother to stifle, spilling across his stomach, his hand, the edge of his robes.
“Mhm.” He’s cleaning himself with a cloth from the altar— he’ll have to have it sent to you later, but that’s for future Suguru. “I'll be back soon.”
You roll onto your side, face appearing in the camera, flushed and satisfied, and so beautiful it makes his chest ache. “I'll be here.”
“Good.” He picks the phone up and brings it close to his face. “Once our mission is complete, we will have all the time in the world."
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
KENTO ♡ NANAMI
Before he dies from exhaustion, he will curse his boss for eternity. Like any work trip, promises of a relaxed environment were thinly veiled lies of overtime.
Occasionally, you would send pictures of things you did throughout the day; those were the things keeping him going and preventing him from tossing his laptop out the window and quitting.
Nanami's tie hung loose around his neck, the top buttons of his shirt undone, sleeves rolled to his elbows.
His laptop glows dimly on the desk, spreadsheets bleeding into one another until they're nothing but a blur of numbers behind his tired eyes.
He should be reviewing the projections for tomorrow's meeting. Should be answering the emails that have piled up in the last three hours. Instead, his phone is in his hand, thumb hovering over the last image you sent.
It came through forty-seven minutes ago, a brief respite from the drudgery of quarterly reports. The notification had been innocuous enough-just your name, the little camera icon.
He'd opened it expecting another photo of the things to do that day, or the view of a cafe, or perhaps a plate of food you were enjoying without him.
You're angled in front of you, similar to a selfie you sent yesterday, except then you had more clothes on. You were wearing the set he picked out two weeks ago, the one he'd handed to the sales associate without a hint of embarrassment because he already knew exactly how it would look on you.
The lace is the color of dark wine, delicate straps cutting across the swell of your breasts, the matching panties sitting low on your hips. You've posed with one hand, making a small heart with two fingers.
His hand moves before his mind catches up, palm pressing against the front of his trousers where his cock has already begun to stiffen. He exhales slowly through his nose, jaw tight, and doesn't bother to stop himself.
He leans back in the chair, the leather creaking under his weight, and drags his zipper down with deliberate care.
His cock springs free, half-hard but thickening by the second as his gaze returns to the screen. He wraps his fingers around the base, a low sound catching in his throat at the familiar weight of his own hand.
The photo stares back at him, your eyes through the mirror meeting his, and he swipes his thumb across the head, spreading the bead of moisture already forming there.
He remembers unwrapping you from a similar set. How the lace had bitten into your skin, how you'd shivered when he'd traced the edges with his fingers before his mouth.
His grip tightens, fist moving in a slow, punishing rhythm. His hips twitch upward, chasing the friction, and his head falls back against the chair. The ceiling tiles blur above him, but he doesn't need to see the picture anymore. It's burned behind his eyelids, the curve of your breast, the delicate jut of your hipbone.
His breathing turns ragged, each exhale punched out of his chest. His thighs spread wider, heels digging into the carpet as he fucks up into his fist with increasing desperation. The slick sound of it fills the quiet room, obscene and urgent, and he doesn't care. Doesn't care about the meeting tomorrow, about the emails, about any of it.
His thumb swipes over the tip again, and he groans. He's close, the pressure coiling hot and tight in his gut, and he imagines it's your pussy wrapped around him, your body riding his cock. He imagines the way you'd look down at him through your lashes, how you'd let him guide your pace.
His cock pulses, a thick string of precome dripping down his knuckles, and he uses it to slick the way, his strokes turning sloppy, relentless.
His orgasm hits him like a freight train, his hips jerking off the chair as he spills over his own fist in hot, pulsing stripes.
His jaw is clenched so tight it aches, a broken sound rattling in his chest as he works himself through it, every muscle in his body locked taut until the last wave finally, mercifully passes. Even then, it wasn't enough.
When his torment ended, and he finally made it back home. Arriving through the door, you body pressed up against him, hugging him tightly.
You lips pressed against his cheek, littering his face with your soft lips. He'd never admit he came to your picture till nothing came out.
“I missed you so much, Ken!”
“Missed you too,” he smiled, breathing on your neck. Lifting you from your feet, letting your legs wrap around his hips. You giggled into the air, fingers combing through his hair.
He loved your laugh, but he needed to feel you, be inside you, and hear your moans in his ear. He imagined it enough; he needed the real thing.
SATORU ♡ GOJO
The house was quiet, a thing you once thought impossible in the Gojo household. However, with the absence of its head, the silence was unbearable.
You missed your husband dearly, out saving the world, yet you couldn't help but be jealous of the curses who got to see him more than you did.
You carried around one of his blindfolds that he thought went missing when really you stole it, hoping it would make him stay home, even just for a minute longer. You brought the black fabric to your nose, breathing in the remnants of him.
You needed him so bad. Your fingers slipped under your panties. Pretty lace ones that you hoped to show off to Satoru when he got back, that was supposed to be 4 hours ago, and you were growing impatient.
The black fabric pressed against your face, and you inhaled. Your fingers found the wet heat between your thighs before your brain could catch up. The lace of your panties was already damp. You dipped beneath the waistband, middle finger sliding through slick folds, and your eyes fluttered shut.
The memory of him was a bruise you kept pressing. The way his huge hands would bracket your hips, fingers denting the soft flesh there. The cocky slant of his smile right before he did something stupid. His weight, always too much and never enough.
You circled your clit, slow at first. Your hips rolled up to meet your own hand, and it wasn't right— his fingers were longer, thicker, knew exactly how to curl to make you scream, but you worked with what you had. A soft whine escaped your throat. You were so wet, just from the thought of him.
You pushed two fingers inside, gasping. Not enough. Your palm ground against your clit as you fucked yourself on your own hand, imagining it was him. The way he'd hold you down, one palm flat against your lower back, the other wrapped in your hair. The way he'd laugh, his cock twitching inside of you before he unloads himself inside you.
"C'mon," you breathed, not even sure who you were talking to. Yourself. Him. The empty room. "C'mon, 'Toru, please-"
Your fingers worked faster, sloppier. You were close, that familiar heat coiling tight in your belly, your thighs beginning to tremble. You bit your lip hard enough to taste copper, riding your own hand like it was him, like he was finally fucking home, filling you the way you needed.
Had you been paying attention, you would've noticed the increase of cursed energy, objects falling from the walls, and space crackling around the space, stilling the particles in the air.
You froze, eyes snapping open.
Satoru loomed over you, his blindfold missing from his face and his pale hair falling into his eyes. He tilted his head, slow and deliberate, watching your fingers still buried inside your soaked cunt. A mocking grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"My poor baby."
Your heart slammed against your ribs. You tried to pull your hand away, embarrassment flooding through you, but he caught your wrist. "No, no," he murmured, pushing your fingers back down. "Don't stop on my account. You were so close, weren't you, baby?"
Your mouth went dry. "You- you teleported?!"
"Mmh." He leaned down, and the warmth of his breath ghosted over the shell of your ear. "Just got finished. Was checking on you through the cameras, thought you were sleeping." His teeth grazed your earlobe, and you shuddered. "Imagine my surprise when I see my pretty wife saying my name. So lonely without me, I know, I know." He holds your head against his, caressing your hair.
"Don't-"
"Shh." His finger pressed against your lips, trailing down your chest, down to your lace waistband. "I was wondering where that blindfold went."
Your cheeks burned. "I missed you."
"I can see that." His eyes dropped to where your fingers were still buried in your cunt, your slick coating your knuckles. He let out a low whistle. "It's on me, should've come home on time, I'm sorry."
"You were supposed to be home four hours ago, Satoru."
He wrapped his hand around your waist. "Four hours," he repeated, bringing your fingers to his mouth. His tongue darted out, tasting you. "Apologies won't do."
He sucked your fingers clean. You watched, transfixed, as his eyes stayed locked on yours. When he pulled them out, a string of saliva and your own slick connected his lips to your knuckles.
"Up."
You didn't move fast enough. He grabbed your hips, pulling your body on top of his. The blindfold slipped from your neck, and he caught it, tucking it into your bra with a soft laugh. His cock pressed against his pants, a heavy, insistent line of heat that made your mouth water.
"Four hours," you repeated. "Do you know what four hours feels like when you're not here?"
He opened his mouth to answer, something that would make you want to hit him, but you were already moving. Your hands fumbled with his belt, impatient. The metal clinked, and you yanked it free, tossing it somewhere across the room where it hit the floor with a sharp clatter.
"Eager much?" he breathed, but the amusement in his voice was strained. His hips lifted into your hands as you worked his pants open, and the sight of him springing free made your cunt clench around nothing.
He was already leaking, a pearlescent bead of precome glistening at the tip, and you wanted to taste him so badly it hurt.
But you needed him inside you more.
You didn't bother with your panties; you just pushed them aside, the fabric pulling against your slick folds, and positioned yourself over him. His hands found your hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh there.
"Look at you," he murmured, and his voice had gone low, rough. "So fucking wet for me. Were you thinking about me the whole time?"
You sank down onto him in one motion.
The stretch was everything. Your body opened for him like it had been waiting, like it had been starving, and the sound you made was embarrassingly loud— a punched-out whimper that turned into a moan as he filled you.
His tip pressed against your cervix, exactly what you craved, and your hands braced against his chest as you tried to catch your breath.
Satoru's head fell back against the headboard. His grip on your hips tightened, and you watched his jaw clench, the muscles in his neck corded with restraint.
"Fuck," he gritted out. "Fuck, baby, you're-"
You didn't let him finish. You lifted yourself, slow, savoring the drag of his cock against your walls, and slammed back down.
His eyes snapped to yours, "Oh, we're doing it like that?"
You didn't answer. You couldn't. Your voice had fled, replaced by guttural need, so feral that it clawed up your throat and came out as a broken moan. Setting a brutal rhythm that made his thighs tense beneath you. Each time you took him to the hilt, his hips would twitch up to meet you, and the impact sent shockwaves through your spine.
"I missed you, too, honey." His voice was strained. His hand guided your movements, fingers digging into your hips hard enough to bruise, the other gripped the headboard. The wood was cracking under his fingers, but neither of you was worried about it.
"Y-you're always fucking l-late," you groaned, your hand cupping his chin, fingers pressing into his jaw harshly.
"I-I know, I know. I'll be better for you, baby." He promises, hips rutting against your ass. You leaned forward, palms flat against his chest, and rode him harder. The angle changed, his cock hitting that spot inside you that made stars burst behind your eyes, and you cried out. The sound echoed off the walls of the too quiet house, and you didn't care.
"You said-" Your voice broke as you slammed down again, tears welling up in your eyes. "You said four hours, Satoru. Four hours of nothing. No texts, no calls, just-" His thumb found your clit, and whatever you were going to say dissolved into a sharp gasp.
"You're right," He circled the swollen nub, and your hips stuttered in their rhythm. "Tell me how wrong I am." The wood behind him snapped in half, splintering above him. Instinctively, he holds up the board, pushing it against the wall.
"You're a-always lying, just to get what you want. I was worried about you, Satoru. I can never know if you're okay. " Your thighs were burning, slick with sweat and your own arousal, and every nerve in your body had condensed to the place where he was splitting you open.
He nodded in agreement, accepting the words falling from your lips. "And you broke the fucking headboard!" You rode him faster, harder, your nails raking down his chest. The muscles there tensed beneath your fingers, and he let out a sound half laugh, half groan.
"It's my fault," he breathed. "I'm sorry, baby."
"Yes," you sobbed. "'Toru!" His hand fisted in your hair, yanking your head back. The sting made your cunt clench around him, and he felt it, his hips bucking up into you with renewed force.
"That's my girl," he growled, and the praise was a drug, flooding your system with heat. "Gonna take what you need, yeah? Ride me, wifey."
You nodded, or tried to— his grip on your hair made it difficult. Your hips were moving on their own now, a frantic, punishing rhythm that had his cock punching into you again and again. The headboard started to knock against the wall, a steady thump-thump that matched the beating of your heart.
You fell forward with a startled cry, your chest hitting his, and Satoru's arms wrapped around you immediately. You walls constrict around his cock as you came. He followed soon after, cum painting your insides white.
The headboard hung at a sick angle, one side completely detached from the frame, and you stared at it with wide eyes.
"Baby," he breathed, and when you lifted your head to look at him, his expression was wild. "Baby, that was the hottest thing you've ever done."
Before you could respond, he flipped you. His weight pressed you into the mattress, one huge hand bracing beside your head, the other finding your thigh and hitching it up around his waist. The new angle drove him even deeper, and your back arched off the bed.
"'Toru- "
"Shh." He pulled back, his gaze fixed on where your bodies were joined. "My turn. You've got to play. Now I'm gonna take what's mine." His fingers dipped into your bra, pulling the black blindfold from between your tits. "Wear this too." He wrapped the fabric around your eyes.
"Oh," His cock twitches alive inside of you. "That's really hot, wifey."
☀︎ SATORU GOJO is the only person who could fuck you mid-argument.
i mean, one moment, you're complaining about how close he was to a girl today.
something about how he let her flirt with him 'without having the decency and respect' to tell her that he was beautifully taken by a beautiful girl.
something about how you always (not true) have to tell girls that your precious boyfriend is taken while he sits there and does nothing (also not true).
another moment, you're bent over, trying to whine about how much of a piece of shit he is while he dicks you down, half apologetic, half amused. amused at the fact that you even had the courage to talk to him the way you had.
"sorry, baby," he says, but you're not sure if he's talking to you, or the pussy he was submured in, because hell, it was definitely talking to him. "'m really sorry... 'kay?"
he's whispering in your ear, but you can't seem to comprehend a word he's saying. the dick's too good.
he grabs your jaw with one hand, and grips the sheets with another, his chest warm against your back.
every thrust forces a moan from your throat, but you can't quite talk.
not like he wanted you to, anyway. you'd done enough of that.
"i didn't mean to make you jealous, baby," his brows furrow as he looks down at you with those blue eyes that you love so fucking much. "you're– you're the best, i swear, my– fuckkk,"
he pushes his upper half away from you, letting go of your jaw and moving his large hands down to your ass.
squeezing it, his thrusts slow down, and it makes him smirk.
the sight of his dick easingggg in and out of you? he loves that shit.
you? you're still whining and trying your best to shit-talk. satoru knows you can't. you never can when he's fucking you this good.
and there's never a time where he's not fucking you this good.
"f–fuck you," you finally push out, knuckles aching from the grip you had on the sheets.
"you can, baby," he grins, moving a hand up your back. "i promise, only you can." he almost whispers, but he knows you can hear it.
when people see Toji with his sweet girlfriend out in public it’s all whispers
ᥫ᭡.ִֶָ𓂃
An older woman whispers to another about how sorry they feel for you or assuming what Toji is like behind closed doors just by his large muscular form, grumpy face, and his overbearing rough demeanor it’s not rare people are going talk.
You don’t hear the whispers, but Toji does, all of the tiny hushes going unnoticed by him.
His eyebrows furrow from slight irritation as his eyes watch you wander around the lingerie store trying to find that pink set you saw online.
Toji doesn’t complain on how long you’re taking his heavy footsteps following behind you while you looked around. His ears twitch as he hears a woman whispering to one of her friends about how they feel sorry for you, again assuming how Toji is behind closed doors.
Once you had your full fill of shopping and you were back in your cozy apartment all Toji could think about is how he wished all those people in the mall could see him right now.
large muscular form taking up your entire vanity chair as you test out all the new makeup products you bought. Your hand steadily applies the eyeliner on his lash line - face completely concentrated as you swiftly apply a small wing.
His hair was clipped back by my melody hair clips, face in full glam with all the products you just bought. You lean back eyes scanning his face - hand gripping his jaw as you turn his head from side to side inspecting your work.
Toji doesn’t complain nor does he saying anything just a sigh through his nose - eyes never leaving yours as you stare at him. Finally you give a satisfied smile as you hand him a mirror. “you look so pretty ‘ji !” you squeal while Toji checks out your magic.
Tojis scarred lips tug into a grin as he puts down the mirror grabbing you by the waist pulling you into his lap.
“mhm i do, you like everything you bought then?” big hands rubbing up and down your waist. You nod with a smile as you lean forward kissing his cheek as a thank you for his compliance.
If only the people around them could see him like this. His sweet girlfriend treating him like some doll, then they really wouldn’t be saying anything.
