please respect the blog and those interacting with it. i’m a new writer and would really love honest feedback on how i can better my writing for the future, but please be kind.
𝕞𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕤
❀ jjk
❀ ateez
❀ enhypen
❀txt
𝕒𝕓𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕞𝕖
i’m daella, she/her- i’m a newer weeb. i love anime and kpop. i love hot men and women, animated ones count too (some of my first loves were both danny phantom and shego). im always down for recommendations for new songs, shows, movies, and more.
i am a newer writer who would love feedback to better my future writing, but please be kind. i will mainly be writing smut, but there will be some fluff here and there. thank you for checking out my blog, i hope you enjoy it! my inbox is always open for any questions, requests (i will try my best), or if you’d just like to chat about a show or group or something.
MDNI 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ satoru gojo vs no nut november | m.list
cw : somnophilia ( reader wants it, she just thinks his ass is annoying. it is consensual )
“you really think i can't hold off on blowing my load for a whole month? pfft— cmon sweets, my self control is through the roof.”
this was later proved to be false, when on November 1st at 12:54 am, you wake up to your half asleep boyfriend rutting his leaking cock into your fluttering hole.
“oh, h-hey there sleepy girl, don't mind me, i-ah just couldn't resist, so pretty even when you're sleeping.”
he leans down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead, all while bottoming out inside your tight, already dripping heat, the delicious stretch of his thick throbbing cock stuffing you full.
pulsing veins drag along your silky walls, each shallow thrust molding your tight cunt to remember the shape of him as pre cum leaks out of his blushing pink tip.
his large hands caress your bouncing tits, kneading the soft swell as his thumbs rub over your pert nipples through the thin fabric of your tank top.
"t-toru, what are you- hck- doin'?" you hiccup, eyelids heavy as you wake from the dizzying haze of sleep, only to be thrown into the whirling haze of pleasure as you feel utterly and completely full of him, tummy tightening as you instinctively clench around him.
“sh-it, squeezing me like you don' wanna let me go— she was waitin’ f’me, w-was crying cause she missed me.” he brings a long finger to gather your juices that have mixed with his pre to form a creamy ring at the base of his cock, dripping down between your thighs.
“see how happy she is now? crying tears of joy.”
you're staring up at your no self control having ass boyfriend— cerulean orbs covered by blown out pupils, damp strands of white sticking to his sweat slicked forehead.
“god, mmph- 'toru— you're literally insane.” you cup his heated cheeks in your small hands, squishing his face before pulling him down for a kiss. soft pink lips crashing against yours, tongues dancing and spit mingling between the sloppy kiss.
“mhm, insane for you— mmm, for this sweet pussy.” he brings his glistening fingers covered in your arousal to his mouth and sucks, tongue swirling around the long digits as he savors the taste of you on his tongue, a deep groan rumbling through his chest.
“you're such a f-freak satoru.” you mewl as his pace picks up, the loud plap plap plap of his heavy balls against your ass mixing with the lewd sounds of your sopping cunt and choked whimpers.
“y-yeah, but i'm your freak baby— f-fuck!” he spews a string of curses and whispers of your name as his swelling cock shoots thick rivulets of his seed deep inside, his head falling into the crook of your neck as he leaves open mouthed kisses along your collarbone.
you finish at the same time, the warm feeling of his cum filling you entirely pushing you over the edge. gummy walls clamping down around his spurting cock as your release gushes down his veiny shaft, down your thighs and onto the sheets.
“s-satoru,” you gasp out as he holds you close, fucking his cum back into you with a few languid rolls of his hips.
“unfortunately, you are my freak.”
you pant as you catch your breath, rubbing your hands through his sweat dampened tresses, nails grazing his scalp as he shudders and whimpers into your neck.
“so, what do you think about no dick december?” you tease.
now he's slipped out of your drooling hole, globs of cum leaking down your messy cunt as he flips you over suddenly, landing a sharp smack on the fat of your ass.
“oh, i'll show you exactly what i think of no dick december, sweetheart.”
oops.
comments and reblogs appreciated! ♡
repost from my old account sytorusdoll
imagine being a manager for ot5 txt, but not any normal manager, no, a manager who stays in their dorm 24/7 unless guided out by one of the members.
you were txt’s free use manager, ready for anything they wanted from you. you had your own room but you rarely stayed in there, usually sleeping with one of the guys inside of you.
when yeonjun would come home stressed from all of the management disputes he would go straight to you and fuck into you until all of his stress faded out and into you in the form of his hot white cum. he usually had you face down ass up wherever he found you. you lived it rough and yeonjun knew that- making sure you always felt a release
soobin was very touchy and always wants to cuddle or play. he’s usually curled up beside you with his hands all over you while his mouth sucks gently on your boobs as if it comforted him. often he would be in that position and he would get so turned on just from touching you that he would start grinding up into you until he came in his pants.
in the evenings after a long dance practice or vocal run beomgyu would seek you out to help him relax and fall asleep since he had worked so hard that day. he would often have you on your knees between his thighs, one hand on the back on your head pushing your throat further down his long length. he’d be so tense for so long until he got to come home and use your face like a fuck toy.
one person who got off on giving you pleasure was taehyun. he’d never be harder than when he was nose deep in your pussy. juices covering his face, he’d slurp you down until you were squirting on his tongue. he got off listening to your whimpers and moans. he loved the taste of your sweetness and couldn’t get enough.
weekends were usually saved for huening kai because he liked to take his time. during the week he was focused on work and whatever else he needed to get done, but on the weekends he was free to use you the way management intended. friday nights you would go to sleep in his room so that he could wake up fucking into you. the day would start with you waking up to slow sex but by the time dinner came around your hole would be pulsating from overstimulation and dripping so much cum you were suprised at how much he could give.
bestfriend! yuji who you spend your weekends with watching movies together on the couch. your head rested against his chest as you lie together.
bestfriend! yuji who would have his hand under your shirt absentmindedly rubbing slow, soft circles on your already hard nipples. you paid no mind to it, used to the touchiness.
bestfriend! yuji who had your hand resting on his half hard cock, tracing small shapes without realizing.
bestfriend! yuji who you cockwarmed while he gamed with his friends online. you would squeeze and slowly grind your hips to tease him, but you did it for yourself more than him. your juices dripping down his length.
bestfriend! yuji who eats you out like he has all the time in the world. you could be playing on your phones not even talking and he would crawl over, strip you of your pants, spread you open and begin licking and sucking on your swollen slit.
bestfriend! yuji who walks in the bathroom while your mid pee just to talk because he can’t be without you for too long.
▐ frat!toji is 100% the loudest in the frat house about his “preference.”
“i actually don’t like skinny girls,” he says, leaning back on the couch while his frat brothers argue. “i like somethin’ to hold y’know?”
toji describes his ideal type like it’s a checklist.
- soft
- thick thighs
- smart
- glasses are an honorable mention
“y’know like the quiet nerdy type that would correct your grammar but still let you carry her, thats what i want.”
but then he meets you and its at a campus library study session the frat is “required” to attend for pr reasons. you’re sitting there with highlighters, oversized sweater, glasses sliding down your nose, completely focused.
he goes dead silent mid sentence when he sees you. his frat boys notices.
“isn’t that literally your type?” satoru whispers to him.
“…shut up.” you’re not paying attention to him at all. which somehow makes it worse. he tries to approach casually.“you’re in my stats class, right?” you blink up at him. “…no, mustve gotten me mixed up with someone else.” his cheeks almost turn red.
the thing is.. he’s used to girls approaching him. he’s confident flirty and smooth.
but with you?
he suddenly feels embarrassed and stupid for approaching you.
toji loves how beautiful you look in your glasses, the way your thighs press against the chair when you sit, the way you get excited when talking about something academic.
the first time he hears you passionately explain something complicated?
he is DONE for.
he starts bragging about you to the frat guys before you’re even his. “yeah, shes pre-med.” “she corrected the professor.” “she’s smart as hell.” “she’s so beautiful.”
if he sees some finance random trying to flirt with you at a campus event? he’s suddenly beside you, hand resting on your back . “she’s busy, lil bro.” he says calmly.
toji LOVES when you get flustered. if you laugh and your whole body moves? he’s staring. a complete goner. he lowkey flexes when you sit next to him at his frat party.
you in your cute nerdy outfit, a little shy, holding a drink?
he has an arm around your waist like he won a reward.
the first time you sit on his lap?
his heart nearly jumped out of his chest.
his hands unconsciously settling on your thighs, firm and possessive but respectful because he doesnt wanna make you uncomfortable, not when hes this close.
he leans into your ear and whispers,
“told ya you fit perfectly.”
toji absolutely worships the fact that you match his preference exactly. not in a fetishy way. in a “ive been yearning for someone like you my entire life and i finally have you.” way.
he loves when you info-dump on his dumbass.
loves when you get shy about your body
“why are you acting like this isn’t exactly what i like, hm?”
and when you finally start dating?
his frat house never hears the end of it.
“i told you guys,” he says smugly. “i have taste.”
18+ MDNI, smut - accidentally calling bf!toji 'daddy' in bed
tojis got you on your stomach with your head turned sideways on the pillow. arms all wobbly and useless. you’re babbling - barely coherent - while he fucks into you slow and deep.
his hands firm on your hips. voice low and smug in your ear. “so fuckin’ tight, baby. makin’ all these cute little noises.”
you sob something that’s not really a word.
“what was that?” he huffs a laugh. “couldn’t hear you, sweetheart.”
your toes curl.
he’s big. that massive cock that always stretches you just a little too much until you’re wrung out and trembling. of course, tonight’s no different. he’s been fucking you for what feels like age. slow and punishing. letting you feel every inch like he’s trying to ruin you permanently.
your brain’s melting. your mouth moves faster than your thoughts.
“d-daddy-“
you freeze. he stills. mid-thrust. a beat of silence.
oh my fucking god. you did not just say that.
you bury your face in the pillow, mortified. “i-i didn’t- i wasn’t-“
he growls, “say it again.”
you peek up, startled. “what?”
his hand comes down, sharp on your ass.
you yelp.
“say it again, baby. you said it so sweet.”
you squirm. he rolls his hips into you, slow and filthy.
“go on. i’ll fuck you just how you like. but you first have to say it.”
you choke on a moan. “daddy-“
he groans.
grabs you by the waist and pounds into you - harder, deeper and rougher than before. the bed creaks. the air knocks from your lungs.
“fuck, that’s it. that’s my girl.”
he doesn’t let up. you’re clawing at the sheets. crying out with every thrust and he’s right there behind you. his breathing ragged, hands all over your hips and waist and thighs.
“you like that? like daddy fuckin’ you stupid?”
you nod frantically. “yes- yes- please don’t stop-”
“didn’t know you were such a little slut for it, baby,” he leans down and presses a kiss between your shoulder blades. “shoulda called me that sooner.”
you shatter after that.
cry out his name while you fall apart underneath him. your legs shaking. throat raw. he finishes not long after, groaning into your skin with his cock buried to the hilt. you both collapse in a mess of sweat and shaky limbs.
after a minute, he reaches for a tissue, still catching his breath.
“you alright, princess?”
you cover your face. “i can never show my face again.”
he laughs.
“what, because you called me daddy? please. you think i didn’t love that? i’m gonna bring it up every time you ask me for anything now.”
you groan.
he leans over and kisses your cheek.
“‘daddy can you get me a glass of water,’” he mocks you in a fake high-pitched voice.
you smack his chest.
he’s grinning.
“spoiled little thing. but you’re my little thing.”
A/N: I feel like I haven't written a toji fic that wasn't apart of the fushiguro family series in AGES! so here's one!!!
being a daddy’s girl meant that you will always get what you want. no ifs, ands, or buts.
dad’s bestfriend!toji x female!reader
wc. 5.4k
cw/tw. explicit sexual content, age gap (reader is adult!), unprotected sex, oral sex, vaginal sex, rough sex, semi-public sex, masturbation, squirting, creampie, edging, ovestimulation, hair pulling & choking, nipple play, pet names, breeding kink, shameless smut
18+ mdni
➳ this work is part of THE PERFECT MATCH collection
You’ve always been a daddy’s girl.
Your father always made sure that his little princess got whatever she wanted. Whenever you tugged on his sleeves with those pleading doe eyes, he’d sigh and pat your head, and nine times out of ten, give in. So when he started bringing you to his weekend golf match plays, he made sure he’ll tag you along with him in cute golf apparel.
Which is perfect because what are the odds that your father’s favorite golfing buddy slash best friend just happens to be the hottest man you’ve ever laid eyes on?
Mr. Fushiguro—Toji—doesn’t even notice you at first, not even when you’re perched on the golf cart in your pink little pleated skirt. He’s too busy wiping the sweat on his brow with the hem of his shirt, the fabric riding up enough to reveal the hard lines of his abs with a dark trail of hair disappearing into the waistband of his shorts.
Your father waves you over. “Sweetheart, come say hi!” he calls, and Toji finally turns his head.
The moment his eyes land on you, it’s like time slowed down. His gaze drags down, taking in the way your skirt rides up just a little too high when you slide off the cart, the way the sunlight catches the gold charm dangling from your neck. There’s a flicker of something dark and unreadable and his eyes.
“This is my lovely daughter,” your father says, clapping a hand on Toji’s shoulder like they’re old way buddies and not just two guys who met at a country club. “Thought I’d bring her along today. I hope you don’t mind the distraction?”
Toji smirks, tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek. “Oh, I definitely don’t mind.” His voice is rough, the kind that makes your thighs press together instinctively.
Your father laughs, clueless, already adjusting his cap. “She’s a handful, this one. My spoiled rotten.” He ruffles your hair and you pout.
The match starts. You’re supposed to be watching your father, like he had told you to, but you can’t help it. Your attention keeps slipping. It’s impossible not to stare when Toji bends over to line up his shot, the fabric of his shorts straining across his thighs.
You bite your lip at the sight and immediately pretends to fiddle with the hem of your skirt when he glances back, the corner of his mouth quirks up anyway.
During the break, your father wanders off to grab drinks, leaving you alone with Toji under the shade of the clubhouse’s entrance.
He leans against the pillar with his arms crossed. You can’t help but notice how his biceps flex under the tight sleeves of his polo shirt.
“So,” he drawls, tilting his head. “You always dress like this for your daddy’s games?”
“Like what?” You blink, feigning innocence.
His grin quirks up slowly. “Like you’re tryin’ to give someone a heart attack.”
The way he says it sends an immediate heat down your stomach. You tilt your head. You pretend to adjust your shoelaces just to send him a better view of your thighs.
“I dunno what you mean, Mr. Fushiguro.”
The way you emphasize his name makes his jaw tighten, just a little.
“Toji,” he corrects you before pushing off the pillar to step closer. “Call me Toji.”
You bite back a smirk. “Wouldn’t that be disrespectful? You’re a little older than me and… you’re my daddy’s friend.”
He lets out a rough chuckle, eyes flicking down to where your fingers toy with the charm around your neck. “Pretty sure disrespect’s the last thing on your mind right now.”
You don’t get the chance to respond because your father’s voice cuts through the tension.
“Got us some lemonades!” He jogs back over, oblivious. He hands you a glass with the said drink. “You two getting along?”
Your father’s timing couldn’t be worse. Toji steps back just enough to seem casual. You sip your lemonade, the tartness sharp on your tongue, but it doesn’t distract you the way Toji’s watching you over the rim of the glass.
“She’s sure got a mouth on her,” Toji remarks, and your father laughs like it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard.
“Tell me about it!” Your father echoes, shaking his head like he’s reminiscing about something. “Alright, back to the game. You still watching, sweetheart?”
You nod, batting your lashes at him. “Of course, Daddy.”
The lie tastes sticky on your lips. Of course, I’d watch.
Your friend and his sexy ass.
As soon as your father turns away, Toji leans in, his breath warm and minty against your ear.
“That’s reaaal cute.” His voice is low, rough—the kind that makes your stomach clench. “Bet you’re good at lying to him.”
By the time their match play ends, the sun’s dipping low, casting long shadows across the green. Your father slings an arm around Toji’s shoulders, grinning.
“Dinner at my place tonight?”
Toji rubs the back of his neck like he’s conflicted. “Rain check? I got some work waiting for me.” His eyes flick over you.
Your father frowns. “Oh, come on! You’ve been dodging my invites lately.”
“Next time,” Toji pats your father on the shoulder then he heads to the parking lot.
Before he gets in his sleek black car, Toji pauses just for a second to take one final look at you. Your fingers toy with the charm of your necklace as you both stare at each other. Then, without breaking eye contact, he winks at you.
Your breath hitches, fingers tightening around the charm until the metal bites into your skin. Your oblivious father nudges you when his personal driver pulls up in the clubhouse’s entrance.
“Sweetheart, are you okay?” Your father’s voice snaps you out of whatever spell Toji just cast over you.
“Y-Yeah,” you murmur. “Just zoned out for a sec.”
He pinches your cheek slightly. “Fine, fine. Let’s get home, your mother’s waiting for us.”
The ride home is unbearable. You’re restless, thighs pressed together under the pleated fabric of your skirt while the ghost of Toji’s smirk is burned into your brain.
Dinner passes in a blur—your mother chattering about her garden club, your father recounting every damn stroke from his golf matches like it’s the most thrilling thing in the world. You push food around your plate, nodding when you’re supposed to, laughing when it’s expected. All you can think about is the way Toji’s fingers had flexed around his club, the veins in his forearms standing out under his skin.
You excuse yourself early, claiming a headache. Your father kisses your forehead, none the wiser.
Upstairs, you lock the bathroom door and turn the shower on full blast. The mirror fogs up almost instantly, but not before you catch your own reflection. You peel off your clothes slowly, imagining it’s Toji’s hands doing it. The water’s scalding when you step under it but you barely feel it.
Your fingers trail down your stomach, and lower. The water sluices down your back, hot enough to redden your skin, but it’s nothing compared to the heat pooling between your thighs.
You lean against the tiled wall, one hand pressed on the tiled wall, the other slipping between your legs. Your fingers are tentative at first, just grazing over your clit, but the second you apply pressure, your breath hitches.
“Nngh-“ you bite back a moan.
You bite your lip hard enough to almost taste copper, imagining it’s Toji’s teeth instead—his mouth on your neck, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. The image of him bending over before swinging his golf club, the way his shorts clung to his thighs, the sweat glistening on his skin.
A particular sharp twist of your fingers has your knees buckling. You gasp, forehead pressed to the cool tile now. You can almost hear his rough and mocking voice, telling you how pretty you look like this, all desperate and dripping for him. You push two fingers inside, fucking yourself with shallow, frantic thrusts.
But it’s not enough.
You whined frustratedly while adding a third. The stretch burns just right, and you imagine that it’s Toji’s cock splitting you open instead.
Your free hand grips the showerhead, turning it so the spray hits your clit directly. The sensation is overwhelming, and your back arches.
“F-Fuck, oh! Ohhh my goood,” you whimper. “Toji—mmhhhm—yes, more… More!”
You twist your wrist to fuck yourself deeper, the slick sound of your fingers pushing in and out of your aching pussy is obscene despite the blast from the shower spray. Your breath comes in ragged gasps, toes curling against the shower floor.
“I’m close—shit—I’m so so close-”
You bite down on your lip to muffle the moan, but it’s useless. The orgasm crashes into you like a wave. The orgasm crashes over you like a wave, leaving you gasping against the shower tiles as your fingers stutter inside your aching pussy. Your thighs tremble violently as the pleasure crests and then shatters. You barely register the warm rush between your legs that splashes on the shower floor.
You just squirted. At the realization, your face burns hotter than the water still pelting your skin.
The next weekend rolls around with the kind of slow, aching drag that makes you want to scream into your pillow. Your father’s already whistling by the front door, adjusting his cap like he hasn’t noticed how you’ve been practically vibrating with restless energy all morning.
“Are you wearing the new set we bought?” he calls out, patting the strap of his golf bag.
You glance down at your outfit—baby blue polo shirt tucked into a white pleated skirt that barely grazes mid-thigh.
“Yes! It’s so pretty!”
The second you step into the clubhouse, your eyes dart across the greens, searching for Toji. You've been turning your head here and there but you don’t seem to see him. Your eyes move to the bar and your stomach drops.
There he is, Toji, leaning on the counter. His massive frame shadows the woman perched on the stool next to him. She looks older, but in that polished, expensive way—manicured nails wrapped around her martini glass, her legs crossed just enough to show off toned calves in designer heels.
Toji’s saying something to her, with that same smug smirk playing on his lips. She throws her head back laughing at what he had said. Your fingers tighten around the strap of your purse.
“Sweetie, are you okay?” Your father furrows his brows when you don’t follow him toward the usual table.
You force a smile. “Just feeling a little dizzy, Daddy.”
The lie tastes sour, but your father buys it immediately, squeezing your shoulder. “Want me to call the driver?”
Your mind tells you to say yes, but your heart refuses to back down especially when you catch Toji’s eyes flickering over you. His eyebrow quirks up as if challenging you before he turns back to the woman, whispering something in her ear. You clench your jaw hard.
“Actually,” you say sweetly to your father. “I think I’ll stay.”
Your father beams and drags you toward the tables.
The next hour is torture. You’re picking at your salad, stabbing cherry tomatoes with unnecessary aggression. Toji’s still there in the bar, laughing and drinking. When the woman finally stands, she smoothes her skirt and presses a kiss to his cheek.
You snap your fork in half.
“Jesus Christ!” Your father jerks back at the sound sharp.
“Sorry, Daddy.”
You drop the remaining half of the fork down to the table. You don’t have the appetite anymore.
Your father frowns. He reaches over to tilt your chin up with his fingers.
“You look really pale.” He lays the back of his hand flat on your forehead. “I’ll call the driver now.”
The second the car pulls into the driveway, you bolt out of the car, into your house, and upstairs. Your bedroom door slams behind you hard enough to rattle the framed photos on the wall. With shaky hands, you yank the buttons of your polo followed by the tug down of your skirt.
You collapse onto your bed with enough force to make the mattress bounce. You spread your legs shamelessly wide as you sink into the pillows.
The image of Toji whispering into that woman’s ears is burned behind your eyelids—her manicured fingers brushing his arm, the way his smirk curled. Your fingers are already slipping under the waistband of your panties, the fabric damp against your skin.
You hiss through your teeth as you circle your clit with rough, impatient strokes.
“Fucking—asshole—” you grit, your other hand gripping your thigh.
Your fingertips slip inside and you feel how embarrassingly wet you are—the slick heat clinging on your folds, betraying how worked up Toji made you just by existing in the same room. You press deeper with a sharp inhale, the pads of your fingers catching on your sensitive inner walls.
It’s pathetic, really, how easily your body reacts to him.
Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you curl your finger, imagining it’s Toji’s instead.
Until a knock at the door makes you freeze.
“Baby?” Your mother’s soft voice is muffled through the wood. “Are you okay?”
Your fingers slip out of you so fast you nearly whimper at the loss.
“M’fine!” you call back, voice cracking. “Just—just don’t feel well!”
Your mother sighs. “Okay, just let the maids know if you need anything.”
Her footsteps fade down the hall, and you collapse back onto the pillows with a groan.
The moment’s ruined, but the ache in your throbbing pussy isn’t going anywhere. You roll onto your stomach, arching off your hips as you grab a pillow to place between your thighs. You start grinding, hips moving in slow circles against the fabric, chasing the friction. The pressure builds—too slow, too teasing—until you’re rutting against it shamelessly. Your breath hitches every time the seam of your panties brushes your clit.
The orgasm hits you like a truck as your hips stutter against the pillow. A choked-out moan escapes your lips and you claw at the sheets. For a second, all you see is white-hot static behind your eyelids when you roll your eyes. Your body strung tight like a bowstring before finally collapsing back onto the mattress.
You peel yourself off the pillow with a grimace, the damp patch on the fabric is glaringly obvious. Your panties are soaked through, sticking uncomfortably to your thighs when you swing your legs over the edge of the bed.
For a split second, you feel disgusted. So much for a man who was practically eye-fucking you last week.
“What? Daddy, no,” you whine into the phone, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. The late afternoon sun beats down on your shoulders, making your navy-blue uniform stick uncomfortably to your skin. “You promised you’d pick me up today!”
Your father sighs on the other end, the sound muffled like he’s holding the phone between his shoulder and ear.
“Sweetheart, I’m stuck in a meeting—you know how these investors are. And your mother brought the driver with her to the mall.” He chuckles after, but your grip only tightens around the phone.
You press your lips together, glaring at the empty spot where the family Mercedes was supposed to be parked.
“I hate waiting,” you hiss while kicking some loose pebbles with the toe of your Mary Janes.
“I know, I know,” he soothes. “Tell you what—I’ll send someone to get you, okay? Just stay put.”
The call ends before you can argue further. You slump against the brick wall, scowling at the chirpy girls piling into their friends’ cars. Thirty minutes crawl by, each second making your skin itch worse.
You’re halfway through typing a furious text when the low growl of an engine cuts through the chatter around you.
A sleek black car that’s too familiar rolls up beside the curb. The tinted window slides down with a quiet hum, and suddenly, the heat in your cheeks has nothing to do with the sun.
Toji’s forearm rests lazily on the steering wheel while his fingers are tapping an absent rhythm. He doesn’t look at you, just tilts his head toward the passenger seat.
“Get in.”
You let out a scoff. I’d rather walk home, you speak into your mind.
Your eyes drag down. He’s not wearing his usual polo shirt—just a tight black t-shirt that clings to every ridge of his torso, the sleeves straining around his biceps. The scar at the corner of his mouth twitches when you don’t move.
“Problem?” he finally asks, turning those dark eyes on you.
You swallow hard, the handbag suddenly heavy in your grip. “Daddy sent you?”
Toji nods, then smirks. “Guess he trusts me with his precious baby girl.” The way he says it curls something hot in your stomach.
You hesitate for a second before yanking the car door open and sliding into the leather seat with more force than necessary. The scent of cologne and cigarette hits you immediately.
Before you can even settle, Toji leans over, his body heat radiating against your side. Your breath stutters, fingers clutching the edge of the seat as his face comes dangerously close to yours.
“Chill,” he says, lips quirking up when you freeze. His arm brushes your shoulder as he reaches past you for the seatbelt strap.
“I-I got it,” you blurt out, snatching the belt from his fingers.
Toji leans back into his seat with a low chuckle. His fingers flex around the gearshift and he pulls away from the curb. You stare resolutely out the window, watching the school disappear behind the tinted glass.
The car hums beneath you, the vibration of the engine matching the erratic beat in your chest. You keep your knees pressed together, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your skirt. Toji’s gaze flicks to your legs for a fraction of a second before returning to the road.
“That your uniform?”
You glance down at yourself—the crisp white blouse tucked into your navy-blue pleated skirt. “Yeah,” you answer plainly before smoothing a hand over the fabric.
Toji nods, one thumb tapping absently against the wheel. “You look good in it.”
The compliment hits you like a live wire, it was effortless but entirely too effective.
“Thanks,” you mutter, aiming for nonchalance.
The silence stretches between you, thick with unspoken tension, broken only by the low hum of the engine. You flick your gaze toward him—his jawline is sharp, his profile unreadable.
“Not comin’ to your daddy’s matches lately,” he says suddenly.
You stiffen, fingers fumbling for your phone. “Just busy with school. I’m graduating, just so you know.”
Toji hums, a sound that vibrates low in his chest. You turn your attention back to your phone, scrolling mindlessly through your feed. The silence feels heavier now and it’s pressing against your ribs.
“How about you?” you ask, forcing casualness. “How’s golfing weekends?”
Toji smiles, shunning you with his pearl white teeth. “All’s fine. Still the best one out there.”
Your eyes slightly roll. “Best flirt around ladies, too.” You mutter under your breath.
The car slows to a stop at a red light, engine idling with a low purr that vibrates through your thighs. You’re hyperaware of every shift—the way Toji’s fingers drum against the gearshift, the flex of his thigh when he presses on the brake. Then his hand moves, brushing against the side of your knee as he switches gears.
The light turns green. Toji accelerates smoothly and you press your knees tighter.
“I’m kinda hungry,” he says abruptly. His eyes flick to you, then back to the road. “Mind if we stop somewhere first?”
Your pulse jumps. “Sure,” you say, too quickly.
Toji doesn’t reply, just takes a sharp turn off the main road, tires crunching over gravel as he navigates toward a secluded park tucked behind a thicket of trees.
The car rolls to a stop in a shaded clearing, the engine cutting off with a quiet click. Silence stretches thick and heavy.
One second you’re gripping the edge of the seat, the next you’re lunging across the console to straddle him. Your fingers tangle in his shirt as you crash your mouth against his. Toji doesn’t hesitate. His hand fists in your hair to yank you closer as his tongue slides past your lips. The kiss is messy and teeth clacking.
Toji’s grip on your hair tightens, tilting your head back just enough for his tongue to slide deeper, there’s the taste of something bitter and minty spreading all over your mouth. You hastily shrug out of your blazer, landing it somewhere with a muffled thump, his hands immediately work on the buttons of your blouse.
His mouth leaves yours with a wet sound, trailing hot kisses along your jaw down to your neck until you whine.
“So fuckin’ impatient,” he mutters against your skin.
You arch into him with a gasp when his fingers finally pop the last button open, the fabric of your blouse falls slack around your shoulder. Toji doesn’t waste a second—his calloused hands drag down the cups of your bra, tugging them roughly beneath your tits until they’re bare and exposed in front of him. His breath is hot against your skin before his mouth closes over your nipple, sucking hard enough to make your hips jerk against his.
“Ahh—!”
The noise rips from your throat before you can swallow it, high and needy. Toji’s warm tongue swirls around your stiffening nipples, his teeth grazing the peak quickly.
His other hand slides up your thigh, pushing your skirt higher until the fabric bunches at your waist. His fingers trace the lace edge of your panties, dipping beneath just to tease the wetness soaking in the middle. You buck against his touch, and he chuckles darkly.
“You’re so fuckin’ soaked,” he murmurs. He slides his hand inside your panties, dragging two thick fingers through your slick folds before pressing them against your clit with torturous slowness. “Been thinkin’ ‘bout me?”
You gasp, thighs trembling as his fingers work you in slow circles. “N-No,” you lie, breath hitching when he pinches your clit between his fingers.
Toji’s laugh is low and rough. “Liar.” His fingers press harder, rubbing tight little circles that make your hips jerk up. “Bet you’ve been touchin’ yourself after meeting me.”
You feel your cheeks burn. His touch slides down right on the center and he pushes in his index and middle finger, dipping inside your slick pussy with ease.
“Mmhhmmm, fuck-”
“Oh, yeah?” He curls his fingers inside you. “You saying something?”
You clutch at his shoulders, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt.
“I-I thought about you,” you slowly rock your hips. “Every night.”
His eyes darken, fingers slowly pumping. “How?”
“With my—my fingers,” you pant. “Sometimes with a pillow.”
Toji groans and you feel his cock twitch underneath his pants. His fingers curl deeper inside you and he adds another digit, rough pads dragging against your walls in a way that makes your thighs shake.
“That’s nasty, babe,” he mutters. “Bet you came all over your poor little fingers, didn’t you?”
You whine and nod shamelessly as your hips chase his pumps. Just as you reach your high, Toji suddenly pulls his fingers out with a wet squelch that makes you groan.
“Backseat.”
You scramble getting off of his lap real quick, stumbling as you climb over the center console and land awkwardly in the backseat. The leather is cool against your bare thighs. You hastily tear off all of your clothes, leaving you completely naked in front of Toji. He follows, his large frame and weight making the car shake slightly.
His hands find your knees to grip, spreading your legs wider for him.
“Shit, look at you,” he murmurs, dragging a finger through the mess between your thighs. “All worked up just from my fingers.”
You bite your lip hard, watching as he brings his slick fingers to his mouth and sucks them clean with a low hum. The sight alone makes your stomach tighten—his dark eyes locked onto yours while he savors your sweetness.
Then he unbuckles his belt and tugs his pants down. The sight punches the air from your lungs when his cock springs free, thick and flushed, already dripping against his stomach. You whimper at the sight, thighs trembling when he strokes himself lazily, smearing precum down his length.
Toji doesn’t give you any more time to stare. He grabs your hips in one rough motion and drags you to the edge of the seat.
“Tell me,” he growls, dragging the tip of his cock through your folds, teasing. “You ever been fucked by a man like me?”
Your breath hitches, shaking your head.
Toji’s smirk is all teeth. “Good.”
His thumb presses against your clit, rubbing slow circles while he teases your entrance with just the head. You whine, hips bucking, but he holds you down with bruising force.
“Nah-uh. You will wait.”
Toji’s voice is rough, the command sending a shiver down your spine. He presses harder on your clit to tease you more. You keep whimpering, fingers clawing at the leather seat beneath you.
“Please-” You squirm in his grasp, pathetic and desperate.
Toji’s smirk widens, his eyes darkening as he leans over you. “Please what?” He drags the head of his cock through your slick one more time. “You gotta use your words, y’know?”
You swallow hard, feeling your throat tight. “Please fuck me.”
The laugh that rumbles out of him is low, almost cruel.
“That’s my girl.”
With one brutal thrust, he sheathes himself inside you to the hilt. The stretch burns—too much and too fast—and a sharp cry tears from your throat as your back arches off the seat. Toji doesn’t move instantly, almost as if he’s still relishing the sensation of your spongy walls around his thick, veiny cock.
Your nails dig into his shoulders when he starts moving, hips slowly bucking up back and forth until he sets a punishing pace. The wet slap of skin against skin echoing inside the car.
“Fuuuuck—you’re so tight,” he growls, his fingers digging bruises into your hips. “Holy shit. Look, you’re sucking me in.”
You can’t form words at this point, just choked-off gasps and moans as he pounds into you, each thrust hitting that spot inside you that makes your vision blur. The leather squeaks as he moves, none of you caring that the entire car is now rocking with the force of his movements.
Toji’s hand slides from your hip to your throat. He squeezes it slightly.
“Look at me.”
Your eyelids flutter open, meeting his darkened gaze. There’s something feral in it, something that makes your stomach clench.
The sharp, shrill ringtone—your father’s custom tone, some stupid jazz riff he insisted on—cuts through the haze of pleasure. Your body locks up instantly, thighs clamping around Toji’s waist, your breath catching in your throat.
Toji doesn’t stop moving. He doesn’t even slow down. His hips keep driving into you, deep and relentless. His eyes flick toward the sound—your phone vibrates on the passenger seat, screen lighting up with your father’s name and contact photo.
“Oh, shit-” You scramble, hands pushing at Toji’s chest. “Pull out, pull out!”
Toji’s grin is pure sin. He reaches over to grab your phone. He then holds it out to you, the screen still flashing.
“Answer it.”
Your eyes widened at him, horrified. “Are you insane?!”
“Naaah.” His hips snap forward, forcing a gasp out of you. “You’re gonna answer it just like this.”
The phone keeps ringing and your pulse thunders in your ears, now louder than the wet sounds of Toji moving inside you. You shake your head wildly, but he just thumbs the answer button and presses the phone to your ear.
“H-Hi, Daddy!”
Your father’s cheerful tone fills your ear. “Sweetheart! It’s dark out now, where are you? Did Toji fetch you?”
Toji’s fingers dig into your hip, his thrusts slowing to a tortuous grind. You bite your lip hard, but a whimper escapes anyway.
“Y-Yeah,” you choke out, fingers clawing at Toji’s forearm as he drives into you deeper. “He—nnggh—he did!”
Your father hums on the other end. “Great! So where are you guys? Traffic?”
Toji’s smirk is evil as he drags his cock out agonizingly slow before slamming right back in. The sudden force punches the air from your lungs, and you barely stifle a moan. You bite down on your knuckle hard enough to leave teeth marks.
“Oh- uh, y-yes!” you gasp, voice trembling. “Just a little delay!”
The lie burns hotter than the stretch of him inside you. Toji’s grip on your hip tightens, his other hand sliding up to squeeze one of your tits roughly, thumb flicking over your hardened nipple. You arch into his touch and your thighs shake as he fucks you with deliberate thrusts.
“Well, hurry home,” your father says. “Dinner’s almost ready.”
Toji’s breath is hot against your ear as he leans in, lips grazing your skin. “Tell him you’ll be late,” he mumbles, voice thick with amusement.
You shake your head frantically, but he only thrusts harder, the tip of his cock hitting that spongy spot inside you that makes your toes curl.
“Actually,” you blurt, voice pitching higher as Toji’s pace quickens, “I-I think we’re gonna grab dinner now.”
Your father sighs, the sound crackling through the speaker. “Fine, but don’t stay out too late.”
Toji chooses that moment to thrust hard, knocking the air from your lungs. A broken moan slips past your lips before you can smother it against your own wrist.
“Daddy, gotta go—bad signal!” you squeak, slapping at Toji's shoulder. He pulls the phone away with a smirk, ending the call before tossing it onto the floor.
“Fuckin' perfect,” he growls, gripping your thighs and flipping you onto your stomach in one brutal motion.
The leather seats squeak under your weight as he yanks your hips back, driving into you again without hesitation.
You cry out, face pressed into the seat, fingers scrambling for purchase as his pace turns ruthless. Every snap of his hips punches a ragged sound from your throat, his name tangled in the mess of your moans.
“Louder, baby,” Toji demands, one hand fisting in your hair to wrench your head back. “Wanna hear you.”
You sob his name as his other hand slides around your hip, thumb finding your clit and rubbing rough circles. The pleasure coils tight and unbearable.
“M’gonna cum,” you gasp, back arching. “T-Toji!”
His laugh is dark, breath hot against your ear. “Mhm. Do it.”
Your body locks around him as you shudder through the waves of your own climax. Toji doesn't stop, fucking you through it until you're whimpering from oversensitivity, his grip on your hip bruising. At some point, you think your brain has melted.
“One more,” he growls, and you barely have time to protest before his fingers are back on your clit, his thrusts angling deeper. “C'mon, baby. Give it to me.”
The orgasm hits you like a wrecking ball, your vision whiting out as your body clenches around him. Toji follows with a groan, his hips stuttering as he spills inside you, hot and thick.
The car reeks of sex, the windows fogged beyond recognition. Toji pulls out slowly, watching with heavy-lidded eyes as his thick cum oozes out of your swollen pussy.
You collapse against the leather seat, your body shuddering and breath shaking. Toji’s fingers trail lazily on your thigh and squeezes it, the touch almost gentle compared to the brutality of his fucking moments ago. The car is silent except for your uneven breathing and the occasional squeak of leather as he shifts beside you. The scent of sweat and sex hangs thick in the air.
You turn your head just enough to glare at him, still trying to catch your breath. “We just fucked and you’re worried about stains?”
He smirks, reaching over to tuck a strand of hair behind your hair. “Nah. Just messin’ with you.” His thumb brushes your lower lip. “You good?”
The question catches you off guard. You blink, feeling the aftershocks still pulsing between your thighs.
You nod weakly, legs still spread, too fucked-out to move.
Toji chuckles, reaching over to drag a finger through the mess between your thighs. You flinch, oversensitive, but he doesn’t stop, pushing his thick cum back into your pussy with a possessive little smirk.
“Gotta clean you up before I give you back to daddy.”
you don’t stir right away. he swallows, throat dry—it's physically hurting so bad.
“please.” louder this time, cracked. his hand slides under the blanket, finds your hip, squeezes like he’s anchoring himself. “need you so bad it hurts.”
you mumble something sleepy, shifting just enough that your ass presses back against him. he chokes on air.
“fuck—don’t do that,” he hisses, but he’s already canting his hips again, rutting slow and shameless. the friction makes his balls ache worse. “baby… wake up. please. can’t—can’t sleep like this.”
his fingers slip under the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down just enough to bare the cleft of your ass. he groans at the sight even in the dark—soft, warm, perfect. his cock jumps hard in his boxers.
“been leaking for you for hours,” he mutters, voice thick. “dripping all over myself thinking about your pussy. need to be inside you. need it now.”
you finally blink awake, groggy, voice slurred. “cho…? oh okay."
he doesn’t let you finish. his mouth is on your neck, sucking hard enough to bruise while his hand yanks your shorts lower.
“sorry,” he breathes against your skin, not sorry at all. “couldn’t wait. hurts so fucking bad. please—just let me put it in. just the tip. i’ll be good.”
you’re still half asleep but your body knows him—thighs parting on instinct, a sleepy little hum leaving you. that’s all the permission he needs.
he shoves his boxers down just enough, cock springing free—thick, flushed dark, tip shiny and swollen, a fat bead of precum dripping down the shaft. he grips himself, smears the head through your folds, coating himself in you.
“so wet already,” he groans like it’s killing him.
he notches at your entrance, pushes in slow until he’s buried to the hilt. the stretch makes you gasp, makes him shudder hard against your back.
“fuck—tight,” he pants, hips stuttering. “so fucking tight. missed this pussy.”
he doesn’t thrust right away. just stays deep, grinding in slow circles, letting you feel every thick vein, every pulse. his hand slides up under your shirt, cups your tit, thumb brushing your nipple while he mouths at your shoulder.
“gonna fuck you slow,” he whispers, voice shaking. “gonna fill you up. been dreaming about pumping you full all night.”
then he starts moving—lazy, deep rolls of his hips, dragging out every stroke so he can feel your walls flutter around him. wet sounds fill the quiet room—his balls slapping softly against you, your slick coating his cock, dripping down your thighs.
one hand slips between your legs, fingers finding your clit, rubbing messy little circles while he keeps that slow, punishing grind.
“cum on it,” he pleads, voice raw. “need to feel you squeeze me. need it so bad—gonna cum the second you do. been edged all night thinking about breeding you.”
his thrusts get sloppier, harder to control. he’s whining now, desperate sounds against your neck.
“please—baby—let me cum inside. want to feel it drip out of you tomorrow.”
you clench around him hard and he breaks—hips slamming forward once, twice, burying himself as deep as he can while he spills. thick, hot ropes painting your insides, so much it leaks out around his cock even while he’s still pulsing.
he doesn’t pull out. just stays seated, cock softening inside you, arms wrapping tight around your waist.
“thank you,” he mumbles, lips brushing your shoulder. “love you. so fucking much.”
"love you too cho." he’s already half-asleep again, still buried deep, cum slowly leaking out around him, warm and sticky between your thighs.
“g’night, baby,” he slurs, nuzzling closer. “don’t move. wanna sleep like this.”
bestfriend!choso who was way too innocent when you two first met, he didn’t even know how to touch himself, or that he could.
bestfriend!choso who one day asks you why his dick keeps twitching while you’re hanging out. more so it kept twitching every time his eyes roamed over your ass, but innocent or not he knew better than to say that.
bestfriend!choso who trusted you to help ease his now hard length back into its soft state. but to do that you had to touch him. he didn’t mind one bit, but he wondered if you didn’t really want to help him with something like this.
bestfriend!choso who sat taken aback at how eager you were to touch him. he could see your eyes light up at the sight of his large covered cock.
bestfriend!choso who hums and whimpers at the feeling of your hands cupping and sliding up and down his stiff length. never before has he felt such toe-curling pleasure, and the fact that it came from you intensified the feeling.
bestfriend!choso who shakes as his orgasm rakes through his body. he fel it from the top of his head to the tip of his toes. choso arched up into your hand and rode out his high, a large wet spot forming on the front of his sweats.
bestfriend!choso who got his first orgasm from his bestfriend, the first of what would lead to many.
bestfriend!choso now calls you up anytime his dick gets hard and he needs you to help him feel relief. he tried himself once or twice, but nothing was as good as your grip.
bestfriend!choso who notices when you sometimes get carried away with helping him out so he edges you in further. “more, please” he’ll beg. you can never say no to those strained whimpers and whines he lets out.
bestfriend!choso who one day asks if you’ve ever felt the same pleasure that you gave him. he asked if he could be the one to help you like you do him. you nodded and sat on top of him, straddling his legs.
bestfriend!choso naturally moved both of his hands to your hips to steady you on top of him. you felt his dick twitch right at the center of your skirt. you let your warmth drag over his hard length.
bestfriend!choso whose hard covered girth was rubbing against your puffed up clit that was covered by the soaking wet thing underwear underneath your skirt. your cunt was spawning at the feeling of him as you moved back and forth.
bestfriend!choso felt the rhythm you set and matched it perfectly. his hands would push and pull your hips back and forth making the previously small wet patch on his sweats much more noticeable now.
bestfriend!choso who pulled you down into him as he felt his high shake his body, cumming hard his body chased after yours. the added pressure of him holding you down triggered your release making your legs shake uncontrollably at his sides.
bestfriend!choso who held tightly to you as you both came down from your intense highs. him never having done that with another person and you never having such an intimate moment with your best friend.
bestfriend!choso promised this wouldn’t be the last of your helping hand friendship.
