#jjk x black fem reader

[mysteria157]

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Black!Fem Reader

Rating/CW: explicit sexual content, cowgirl, vaginal sex, light bondage, power dynamics, teasing/edging, sweating Kento out because that's what I love most, established relationship, MDNI!

WC: ~5.9K

Summary: What happens when you playfully suggest a new dynamic in the bedroom? Utter torment for Nanami, of course. What else is new?

a/n: The writer's block has been absolutely atrocious, but I was able to break free of its clutches with this. Is it Sheriff Nanami? No. But it is smut that's been sitting in my mind so long that it gave me a fever. So...here ya go lol.

Ao3 | JJK Masterlist | Divider: @cafekitsune @strangergraphics | Part Two | network tag: @pixelcafe-network

©mysteria157, all rights reserved. DO NOT copy, plagiarize, reupload, modify, or translate (without permission) my work to other accounts and platforms.

The silk of his favorite tie is familiar to him—the way it slides through his fingers each morning when he gets ready for work, the weight of it loose around his neck as he shaves, the pop of black against gold in his reflection when he secures it beneath his collar. But it’s never quite felt like this—wrapped snugly around his wrists, rumpled and stretching with every pull of his hands, growing damp with sweat from his wrists as he watches you ride him within an inch of his life.

Nanami hisses, dark blonde eyebrows pitched deep in concentration as he gazes up at you. His usually immaculate hair is a mess, flaxen strands plastered to his forehead with sweat that trails down his neck like a lover’s caress, slipping beneath his shoulder blades to soak into the sheets of your shared bed.

“I’ve changed my mind,” he grits out. He means to sound indignant, frustrated in light of what he’s gotten himself into, but his body tells a different story. His hips itch to cant upward, fingers clench like a madman for purchase into your skin, jaw clicking as he grinds his teeth against mounting pleasure.

You snort as if the very thought of conceding is laughable. The consistent jump of your hips stops, the action shooting a flare of want up his stomach. Your fingers flex on his chest, pressing further as you lift your hips up and up, exposing more of his wet cock to the cool air until just the tip remains encased in your heat. He yanks at the restraints before he can stop himself, a silent plea that makes you smile.

“Are you sure?” you tease, rotating your hips, and the feel of it makes his eyes cross. “If you’re not comfortable, Ken, we can stop.”

The thought of stopping makes his cock throb traitorously, even as his body feels flayed open, every nerve ending exposed and singing. He did agree to this, after all. 

It was meant as a joke. Just a random comment you made three mornings ago while fixing his tie like any other day. Like always, Nanami used those precious moments before departing for work to drink you in—his own private ritual of worship. The gentle sweep of your eyelashes as you focused on his Windsor knot, the way the morning light caught the rich undertones of your melanin-kissed skin, that unconscious purse of your lips that made him want to be late every morning. 

“You ever thought about letting me tie you up?”

The question struck him like a match against kindling. Nanami is not really the adventurous one in the bedroom—that’s your domain, and he follows willingly where you lead. But the thought of being at your mercy, of letting go of his ingrained control to watch you take whatever you want from him, had his ears ringing. It was something about the way you wouldn’t meet his eyes, the subtle dip of one side of your cheek as you bit down on it, the want radiating from you like heat from a flame…

When it comes to you, he will try anything once. 

A joke that became an agreement. An agreement turned into tonight—you in that devastating dress over dinner, his fingers leveling enough strength not to shatter the wine glass he drank frivolously from as he watched you toy with your necklace, knowing what was to come. An agreement turned into a frantic mess of hands undoing zippers and buttons, of smoothing along the soft planes of your inner thighs before his mouth feasted on the pearl in the center, of you giggling like a wanton feign as you wrapped his wrists and notched them to the bed frame. 

Just a joke. Just an agreement. Now, here he rests, on his back, on fire, and subtly regretting his choices because he’s a selfish man who wants all of you all the time. And Nanami, like the fool he is when it comes to you, truly thought he could bear it. 

“Focus, Ken.”

An absolute fool.

“I’m not uncomfortable. But you’re hardly playing fair.”

You never do. How could you? You’re divinity made flesh, mischief molded from clay—a goddess who delights in reducing him to prayers and pleas. He loves you, desperately so, and has long since accepted that his soul will forever chase the wonderful chaos you bring to his carefully ordered world. 

“What could you possibly mean?” you’re coquettish in your question, biting the corner of your lip in that way that makes his spine straighten. His eyes linger on that lip, remembering how it feels beneath his thumb, against his tongue, between his teeth.

“Darling—”

He doesn’t get far. Before the rest of his words can leave his mouth, you’re dropping back down onto him, enveloping his cock in a blistering heat so intense it borders on religious experience. Every nerve ending ignites at once, pleasure searing through him like a brand.

“No talking.”

And isn’t that funny? Because any words Nanami has disintegrated into a powdery mist seconds ago. So, of course, Nanami has no choice but to bite the inside of his cheek until he can taste coppery tang, pulling at his restraints for the nth time of the night and wishing in this very moment to be oblivious to the sounds of your wanton moans that echo in the air.

Nanami’s groan starts deep in his chest, reverberating through him like a growing monsoon as you lean forward, trailing your nose along his throat. Your scent—Shea butter and feminine heat—fills his lungs like incense, a temptation he can’t answer, a shrine he cannot appreciate despite every cell in his body screaming to touch.

“You agreed.”

“To the restraints, not torture.” He can hear the hitch in your breath, that light choke as you try to hold back a laugh. Your hips give another sensual twirl, and Nanami can hear the clench of his teeth. “I want—I need to touch you.”

“Come now, Kento,” you coo in his ear, sliding your tongue along his lobe before you bite down into the cartilage. He grunts, flinching back even as his cock twitches inside of you. “You married me remember? Surely you know my ways.”

“My love—” You twirl your hips again and again and again. Each swivel is representative of a slow churn of his rapidly loosening arousal. 

Nanami has always been spellbound by your beauty. From the moment his eyes open in the morning to the moment they close at night, you are all he knows. The curve of your smile makes his heart beat faster, the music of your laugh fills his stomach with butterflies. Without intention, you undo him.

Even now, bouncing on his cock like the vixen you are, you are ethereal. Your box braids sway with each movement, catching the artificial light as they brush across your shoulders that gleam with exertion. Sweat has transformed your baby hairs into delicate curls against your temples and hairline, giving you an almost feral beauty that makes his mouth run dry. 

That’s what makes it all the more painful for him. The way sweat slides down your brown skin, the pebble of perspiration along the curve of your stomach, the hypnotic sway of your breasts as you take what you want, it all beckons to him. His mouth waters like a starving man at a feast he’s forbidden to partake in. The base of his spine coils with an inexplicable pressure that blooms along his back. The tips of his fingers tingle from the loss of blood from the restraints and with the desire to touch you.

It’s not fair. 

It’s frustrating. Agonizing to the very depth of his soul how badly he wants to reach for you. He’s strong enough to snap these damn restraints—he could easily do it. The image floods his mind unbidden—how easy it would be to snap these ties, to flip you on your back and fuck you so hard you’re crying his name. He can almost feel it—the sharp sting of your nails (freshly done, he notices even in his delirium) scraping down his back as he drives into you without mercy, the way you’d arch beneath him, how your defiance would melt into pleas. His muscles coil with the phantom sensation, his ears echoing the ghost of your cries he could draw from you.

But you wanted this. You’ve asked for a slither of control he freely gives, and he refuses to see a shred of disappointment on your face because he was impatient. 

So he waits. Even though his skin is burning from the inside out. Even though his heart is beating so fast, it feels like his chest might cave in. He waits. His cock feels so tight that he’s almost feverish with worry if he can hold on much longer. The feel of your essence coating his thighs and balls, the sound of your moans, the sight of the column of your throat when you throw your head back.

It’s truly not fair.

“My love, please,” he can’t help but beg. He’s never against begging. Not when it comes to you. Not when it comes to unraveling the knot you easily twist inside of him. Already, he’s backtracking. He reaches up just a little, hoping you’ll grant him some part of you—the smell of your skin along his nose, the taste of your sweat on his tongue, anything.

“No.”

You leave no room for argument, pressing against his chest to force him back into submission. Frustration flares like a demon in his chest, curdling and dying instantly against the want that oozes from him. 

“Come on, Kento,” you chide, moaning breathlessly as you double your efforts. “Don’t you want to give me what I want?”

Of course, he does. But in moments like this, Nanami wishes he were a weaker man because you’re too wet, too hot, too soft, and tight around him. The silk-soft clutch of your body is turning his mind to static.

Just the thought of how you feel around him threatens to shatter his composure. Pleasure pools molten in his lower abdomen, every muscle tight as a bowstring as he fights his body’s betrayal. He hisses through bared teeth, digs his fingers into the silk encased around his wrists, and yanks until the bed frame groans. His control is quickly failing him, your moans a siren’s song in his head urging surrender. His body responds without question—feet seeking purchase on the mattress, thighs tensing as instinct fights restraint. It will only take a second for him to plant his feet and drive up into you until you’re seeing stars.

But you’re faster. You lean forward to slide your hands behind his neck, delicate fingers weaving through the sweaty strands of his hair before you pull tight, angling his head back so his neck is bared to you in willful submission. The sharp difference between your soft touch and the display of dominance makes his eyes roll back, swimming in the viscera of his brain as a broken sound escapes him, his resistance melting away. His heels slide back onto the bed, forgotten.

Your soft lips press at the juncture of his neck, your braids falling around you both like a curtain, the ends tickling his chest. The scent of your coconut hair oil mingles with the Shea from your skin, making his head spin. The feel of your smirk on his neck—victorious—makes his cock throb, a tight rubber band behind his belly button fraying on the edges, warning him that his time is running out. 

You move agonizingly slow with each roll of your hips, sending electricity up his spine, searing his skin everywhere you touch and aching where you don’t. His skin feels too tight, like his bones don’t fit, and the discomfort is as satisfying as it is jarring. He yanks, sweat beading at his temples, sliding down his neck, making everything feel slick and hot and maddening.

When you sit up, you trail your hands down the rigid lines of his straining muscles, admiring the jutting veins and sinew. You hum in appreciation, pupils blown black as you take him in. The small of Nanami’s back arches in just so, preening under your rapturous gaze because he hopes he’s doing well. Even like this—bound and helpless beneath you—his desire to be good wars with his desperation to touch. The praise in your eyes soothes even as it burns.

Look how still he stays for you. Look how good he’s being. 

Nanami’s thighs tremble with the effort not to thrust, not to take, not to claim. Each second stretches like the most painful torture as his mind fractures into desperation—just one thrust, one press of his tongue to your skin, one moment of control. Please. Please. The word burns behind his teeth, unspoken and curdling but screaming like a banshee in his blood. 

“Getting frustrated, Ken?” Your voice is honey-sweet poison, made breathier by your movements. He won’t rise to your taunts; he lacks the strength for it. So he basks in the attention you lavish with your eyes, your silent praise like invisible hands along his skin. Just as quickly, he closes his eyes tight. If he looks a moment longer, this night will have an unfortunate end for you both.

“Look at me.”

Your demand cuts through the haze of his desire, sharp and unyielding. He’s too slow to respond to you, and all too quickly, he feels your fingers dig slightly into his jaw, forcing his surrender as his eyes flutter open. His restlessness must show because there’s that wicked glint in your eyes, and you thrive on his misery, rewarding him with a kiss so quick and gentle that he’s chasing after your lips for more. You press your hands firmly to his chest, a clear command to be still. With no friction, it’s just blistering heat, his cock pulsing, a whimper dying in the back of his throat.

You shift, and Nanami’s ears register a faint click that he catches with his eyes. Your heels, oh, those clear heels, glimmer up at him as you plant your feet on the soft sheets. Delicate clear straps wrap around your ankles like ribbons on a gift he’s held all night and still not allowed to unwrap, the nude leather making your brown skin glow in the dim lamplight. 

The moment you put them on earlier in the evening, they haunted him—from the restaurant to the ride home, the way they made your legs look endless in that dress when you crossed them in the passenger seat. Now, they dig into the sheets on either side of his hips as you use them for leverage, the crystal clear stilettos catching the light like ice. The sheer difference of something so elegant being used in such a primal way makes his breath catch—much like yourself, refined on the outside but capable of reducing him to nothing but baseless need.

“Watch me,” you command. As if Nanami could look away if he tried. Damn you. “Watch how well I ride you while you can’t touch.”

He loathes how the new angle makes his vision swim at the edges, hates even more how each movement strips away another layer of his composure. Every bounce drives him deeper into insanity, making him strain harder against the ties that keep him from you.

“You poor thing,” you coo, the false sympathy in your voice making his upper lip curl, a growl simmering in the back of his throat. “You want to touch so badly, don’t you?”

God. He wants, he wants. He wants with an intensity that frightens him.

You’re a taunting vision above him, and he eyes the champagne-colored dress that’s now bunched carelessly at your waist. It was the perfect compliment for you, silken and caressing your body during dinner while he swallowed his bubbling desire with every generous gulp of red wine. A halter top dress fastened behind your neck that was quickly undone when you pushed him on the bed, your breasts spilling from their lustrous confines.

The hem is rumpled, kissing the tops of your curvy thighs and falling open with your new position so he can see everything between your legs. Dimpled skin that rises up and down, beckoning that he grip your hips and trace your curves with his tongue. 

The wet sound of skin on skin drowns out even his thundering heartbeat, and he can’t decide which is worse—watching you take your pleasure or being forced to listen to how perfectly you use his body for your own needs. That controls splinters, cracks, disintegrates, and flutters like ash in the wind. 

He’s never wished more in this moment for you to tire out, for your stamina to be next to nothing. But no. You knew exactly what you were doing when you fastened his tie three days ago. 

“You ever thought about letting me tie you up?”

Nanami, in his stupidity and endless love for you, saw what he wanted in your eyes. What he mistook for aimless curiosity, was actually calculated, unadulterated mischief. 

Of course, he would agree.

That’s why you punctuated your victory with this dress. That’s why you got your hair done yesterday. That’s why you wore these new heels and lathered your body in the Shea butter lotion he loves so much.

A level of strategy so calculated that Gojo Satoru himself would be envious of its perfection.

God, he loves you. Even as he silently begs whatever entity will listen to him to be free of this prison you’ve created, he loves you beyond reason.

“Poor Kento,” you purr, your words cracking through his spiraling thoughts like a whip. You lean back on one hand, the arch of your back pushes your breasts forward, and his mouth waters at the sight. Every cell in his body strains toward you, pressing beneath the surface of his skin and coagulating into a congealed mass.

But it’s the sight of you spreading your legs wider, of giving him a view of all of you, of your other hand sliding down your stomach that truly threatens to break him. Your fingers find your clit, and the wet sound of you touching yourself while he’s buried deep inside makes his vision blur. Those should be his fingers bringing you pleasure, his touch pushing you toward release. Instead, he can only watch, desperate and aching, as you chase your own pleasure.

“Look how wet I am,” you breathe, and his hips buck involuntarily at your words. He doesn’t even bother to feel shame at the glare you shoot his way for disobeying. “Don’t you wish these were your fingers? Making me feel good?”

“Don’t be cruel.” The ties might actually snap from how hard he’s pulling now, watching your fingers work in tight circles on your sensitive bundle of nerves, your cunt squeezing him like a vice. You’re getting close—he can tell from the way your thighs start to tremble, the way your breath shakes.

Your laugh in response sends searing heat down his spine—musical and breathless and utterly wicked, even though it makes his blood boil. The sound mingles with the wet noises of your fingers working between your legs, the sight and sound of you nearly driving him mad.

“I need—” he chokes on the words as you clench around him in reprimand, his tongue thick in his mouth. “I need to cum. Please.”

“No.” Your voice is firm despite your breathlessness, your fingers never stopping their circles against your clit. “Not until I’m done with you. Can you hold on? Can you be good for me, Ken?”

Good.

A word so simple to a weaker man, but absolute devastation to him. His cock throbs to the increased tempo of his pulse, the festering heat of pleasure pulls behind his belly button, the base of his spine coiling like a snake backed into a corner. His wrists burn from the careful strain of being at your mercy and not breaking free. He’s fighting, but he’s trying—fuck help him, he’s trying to be good for you. 

You purposefully clench around him, tight and hot and perfect, watching his face contort in pain. “Stop,” he growls, the sound raw and anguished in his throat.

Your answering giggle is like a knife to his chest, delighted by his desperation. “Make me,” you challenge, knowing full well he can’t. You do it again, squeezing around him as your fingers work faster. “What’s wrong, Ken? Too much?”

His growl turns into something close to a whimper as you torment him with another deliberate clench. And another, and another, and another. The ties creak ominously, his whole body trembling with the effort to hold back.

“You’re cruel,” he pants, but the accusation only makes you smile wider, your movements growing more erratic as you get closer to your peak.

Every bounce of your breasts, every flutter of your lashes, every rapturous moan—it’s all burning into his memory like an iron on his skin. His hands ache for the soft crease where your thighs meet, where your thick curves swell so perfectly beneath his thirsty gaze. The sheen of sweat between your breasts calls to his tongue, taunting him with memories of your salty taste. Everything within reach, yet forbidden.

Nanami licks his lips, his tongue catching the subtle tang of your fading arousal from earlier in the evening when his face was buried between your thighs. Saliva pools in his mouth with the phantom taste of you. His breath catches in the dry crevices of his throat, gargling on a guttural whimper as he catalogs you in your utter devastation.

The crystal clear heels, purchased on that rainy Saturday when you’d lingered at the store window with wanting eyes. The champagne silk dress now bunched carelessly at your waist, chosen by him because he loved how the fabric made you shiver when you ran your fingers against it at the store last week. Those delicate black lace panties, pushed to one side of your pussy and soaked through, that he’d selected with trembling fingers weeks ago, imagining the many times you’d left them on while he fucked you into the mattress.

The gold chain at your throat catches the light with each bounce of your body, dancing across your collarbones like encapsulated sunshine. He remembers fastening it there for the first time on your anniversary, his lips following the metal’s path. Your body is decorated in diamonds like stars—the studs in your ears, the tennis bracelet on your wrist, the anklet that glints at him from his restraints. But it’s the wedding ring that truly breaks him—that symbol of his eternal devotion joining two other fingers that now press against your clit as you climb higher.

His marks cover you like a map of worship—the jewelry he chose, the silk he bought, the lingerie he selected. Every adornment screams his claim, but his hands remain tied, denied by the very exquisite canvas he’s painted with such adoration.

He sees the faint vestiges of the finish line, that light at the end of the tunnel when your hips stutter in movement and your breathless pants fall into a surprised moan that makes you stop. Your head falls back again, exposing the delicious column of your throat. His gums itch, inner cheeks sweating with saliva with the primal urge to dig his teeth into your soft skin. Your body is normally decorated with little marks from him—bruises from his fingers on your hips and thighs, hickeys on the curve of your breasts, cum dripping from your cunt. But tonight, you’re a blemish-free beauty in appearance, devilish in motivation. 

“Untie me,” Nanami whispers, not bothering to coat the begging lilt in his tone. “Untie me, and I’ll give you everything you want, love.”

Your head rolls to the side with serpentine grace until your dangerous gaze meets his. You’re glaring without any heat, narrowing your eyes in that playful manner that is always preceded by making Nanami’s life blissfully miserable.

You lift your hips slowly, slowly, slowly, and his eyes fall on the inches of his thick cock that become more exposed to the elements. He takes the abundance of your slick coating him, the thin gossamer bands that lengthen from your joined bodies and snap as the distance grows, the subtle flutter of your walls that suffocate him. Then, without warning—you drop. The sudden rush of wet heat around him shoots electricity up his spine and along his molars that he grinds into dust. He moans harshly, deep, and tortured, shaking from his mouth like a staccato as he tilts his head into the pillow beneath him.

“So good,” you whisper, more to yourself than to him, the words falling from your lips like a prayer. “So good for me, Ken. Always so good.”

The praise pierces something raw inside him. His cock throbs with each word, his fingers cramping white-knuckled around the ties as his body screams louder for release. Your movements grow erratic—hips stuttering and the careful teasing you brandished like a sword dissolving into pure need as your fingers frantically rub against your clit. He cranes his head forward just in time to watch you fall onto your knees, planting one hand on his shin while the other chases your orgasm with single-minded determination.

“Such a good boy,” you gasp, and the words feel like salvation against his skin and damnation all at once. “So good, so perfect, letting me take what I need—staying so still for me—such a good boy—”

He’s never heard those words from your lips before, never heard this particular praise, never heard you whisper in such a way that it sounds like you’re in disbelief by his submission. Something fundamental splinters inside him. The veneer that he’s precariously kept around himself all night fractures with each bounce of your hips. Every muscle in his body pulls taut as he watches you, your breathless chant of “good boy” pushing him dangerously close to his limit. 

Your pleasure crests like a tsunami. The bed protests beneath you both, a symphony of creaking wood and flesh on flesh as your hips slam down on him. Your voice rises, tight and pinched fuckfuckfuck's spilling from your lips like a mantra.

Even though he can practically taste his orgasm, his vision tunnels, focusing only on you. He takes in the violent brush of your box braids against your shoulders, the bunching of your stomach, the pebble of tears that gather at the corners of your eyes like the diamonds on your body. Your cunt grips him tighter, so impossibly tight, a velvet vice that threatens to rip his soul from his body.

And then you shatter. Your head snaps back; your jaw drops in shocked ecstasy as his name tears from your throat like a revelation. The sight of you coming undone above him, because of him, despite his restraints, worms itself into his memory. Your walls pulse around him, your fingers rapidly rubbing your clit to draw out your orgasm, milking his cock with an intensity that nearly destroys him. But he waits, trembling on the knife’s edge of his own release until you draw in one shaking breath. 

Then he snaps.

With a sharp crack, the ties give way, snapping from the bed posts but still dangling from his wrists. In one fluid motion, he sits up and scoots to the edge of the bed, gathering you in his arms with barely concealed strength. One hand tangles into the braids at the nape of your neck while the other grips your hip hard enough to bruise.

“You’ve had your fun, love. Now let me have mine,” he growls against your ear, pulling your lobe into his mouth and using the leverage of your body and feet planted on the ground to drive up into your oversensitive and still fluttering heat. 

The feeling of finally, finally being able to touch you after being denied so long makes his head spin. The feel of you along his fingertips is enough to make him spill inside of you prematurely. Instead, he pistons his hips upwards, sliding his tongue along the skin of your neck as his pants dry his saliva on your skin. He’s earned this—earned every whimper, every clench of your pussy, every broken sound you make. Now it’s his to swallow and take as he chases the burning in his lower back.

You’re completely undone from your orgasm, arms draped loosely around his neck, and barely able to hold yourself up as the painful pleasure of over-sensitivity wracks your body. The sound of you in his ear, the press of your cheek on his skin, and the wet feel of what has to be drool on his shoulder, only drives him faster.

Every thrust up makes you whimper, all exposed nerves, and helpless to do anything but take what he gives. The hand on your hip guides you down to meet each drive of his cock, the movement desperate and precise. Control—something he’s prided himself on his entire life—is slipping through his fingers like water with each pulse of your walls around him.

“Perfect,” he pants against your ear, feeling you shudder at his voice, at how it breaks with need. “So perfect for me. Taking me so well even after—” Words fail him, dissolving into a heady groan as pleasure hot like ecstasy builds in his core, a tide rising higher and higher with each thrust. The sight of you so thoroughly claimed, slurred renditions of yes, yes, please, Ken, please sliding into his ear only drives him faster.

“Always teasing me,” he growls, digging his fingers into your hip and punctuating his words with a particularly deep thrust that makes you whine. “You love—you loved it, didn’t you? Making me wait—making me watch?”

Your only response is another broken moan, your body pliant and trembling in his arms, your cunt hot and thrashing around him. He groans softly, kissing your neck once before he digs his teeth into your skin. You yelp from the feeling, clenching around him so tightly that he feels his orgasm creep like a shadow at the edges of his consciousness.

“I’ll have to get you back for this.”

His threat is undermined by the pure devotion in his voice, the way his hand gentles in your hair even as his hips maintain their relentless pace. 

As quickly as his ferocity comes, it fades. He has no more strength to whisper grievances in your ear, no more energy to enjoy your body before he walks to the finish line.

No. Now, he sprints.

That rubber band behind his belly button begins to fray, a thin sliver being held together. The pressure at the base of his spine balloons, pressing against his nerves to make them pulse in time with his thundering heartbeat. His world narrows to only sensation—the wet heat of you, the silk of your skin, the wet smack of his balls against your throbbing pussy, the pounding of his heart against his ribs. He can feel it at the base of his cock, tingling and tight, begging to be let loose and fill you up.

Right there, right there, so close he can taste it on his tongue. His teeth dig deeper into your neck, anchoring himself to you as if he might float away in the thick fog of pleasure. The bed screams, and the broken ties—now a symbol of his freedom—dance along his forearms. But just as he teeters on the precipice, just as he’s about to topple over the edge, you find your strength again. His fierce, untamable love presses fingers into his back, and your lips brush his ear with deliberate wickedness.

“Be a good boy,” you whisper, voice hoarse but triumphant, “and cum for me. Fill me up, baby.”

He’s learned nothing from your devious ways. Those words—though repeated through the night—strike like lightning to his core. Gone is his rhythm. Gone is his control. Nanami’s jaw slackens, a desperate sound caught in his throat as his hips stutter and fail. 

His orgasm punches him in the gut, a moan belting from his throat and mixing with sounds he didn’t know he could make. He crushes you against him as he finally breaks, vision whiting out at the edges, hips snapping erratically as he chases every last spark of pleasure you offer him.

Your name falls like reverent worship from his lips, deep moans sliding along your skin like honey as you hold him through it. He’s lightheaded from you—your breathing on his shoulder, the press of your skin against him, the feel of his cum and your slick sliding between his ass. He relaxes his hold on your hip, smoothing his touch over the crescents in your skin and massaging the muscle, feral need giving way to worshiping love.

Seconds pass, then minutes. His mind slowly pieces itself together, orienting himself to reality as pleasure oozes over his skin like molten lava.

His breath is still evening out when he feels you shaking against him. You’re giggling freely, and he can smell the mischief that leaks from your pores. You’re proud of yourself; like all times when you can make him blush and trip over his words, this is no exception. He pulls back to level you with a look that’s meant to be stern, but your laughter only grows, bright and unrepentant as you card your hands through his loose and sweaty hair. 

He takes the time to admire you, his beautiful wife. Your skin glows in the aftermath of your lovemaking, the subtle sheen of sweat on your neck and breasts beckoning his gaze. The curling baby hairs kiss the tops of your ears, the glint in your eyes shining with endless love. You kiss him softly, giggling against his lips before pulling away to litter kisses down his neck.

“Are you mad at me?” you ask sweetly, a smile evident in your voice as you trail your love along his collarbone.

His hand strokes up your spine, humming softly. “Never. Though you will pay for this, love.” The threat holds no real heat— how could it, when you’re curled against him so perfectly, when your laughter makes his heart feel so full in his chest that he aches?

“Is that so?” you purr, disbelieving but fully prepared for the punishment if and whenever it arises. “I don’t think you have it in you.”

He won’t rise to your taunts. No, Nanami will get you back, and the next time those tears gather in your eyes, it will be because he’s dangled you over the precipice for so long that you won’t remember your name.

But that’s plans for another day.

For now, he’s content to pinch your side in playful reproach and relish in the harmonious giggle you give him. Before he can react, you’re pressing him back into the mattress, claiming his lips in a deep kiss that tastes of the wine that you both had at dinner. He melts into it despite himself, arousal stoking to life as his cock, still nestled in your warmth, twitches inside of you, his hands sliding up your back as he forgives you without words.

Thanks for reading!!

[fleshbride]

PRESENTING . . . AIN’T NUN BUT A HOOCHIE MAMA!

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ TOJI FUSHIGURO X F!BLK!HOOCHIE READER

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ CW: black fem reader; reader is 26, toji is 34; reader is on the thicker side; usage of the word nigga a few times; smut; breeding kink, hair pulling, dumbification, overstimulation, pussy slapping, impact play, messy pussy eatin’, size kink, hints of sado-masochism, a bit of brat taming, manhandling, praise & degradation, multiple orgasms, cervix fucking, choking, squirting; fwb-ish to lovers (?); pet names are used, such as mama, baby, pretty girl, dollface, princess & sweetheart; reader has a kid of her own; reader is a hoochie, meaning she’s seen as ‘ghetto’ but in a very pro-black & attractive way; reader has a mature body, pudge, cellulite, stretch marks; reader accidentally flashes toji; reader & toji share a blunt; toji is actually a good dad in this!

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ wc: 7.5k

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ this is actually pure filth. this was my first time writing for toji EVER and actually my longest work. guys when i tell you i put some shit into this thing, idk what i did but i SNAPPED. HARD. i hope you guys enjoy this nasty thing that came from my imagination. not proof read or anything so pls excuse my typos!

sometimes, your job could be a godsend. who knew that a simple job at the local hair store would catapult you into meeting one of the sexiest men you’d ever seen?

to be completely honest, it wasn’t solely your job that sparked such an interaction. it was moreso you; you possessed an irresistible, unmistakable charm that was impossible to ignore. your voice, soft as a lullaby, held a dulcet quality that drew people in like a magnet. anytime you opened your mouth to speak, you commanded attention effortlessly, as if your words held some mystical power that captivated any listener.

everyone was always drawn to you, and it wasn't hard to see why. who in their right mind wouldn’t be smitten? you were a vision of beauty, with your radiant brown skin that seemed to glow as if illuminated from within. your smile, perfect and white, could light up even the darkest room, making hearts skip a beat. your eyes were another story altogether. they seemed to sparkle, glimmering with an intensity that was all yours.

your hair was always done, you always made sure that you had a fresh set of lashes. to add, you never forgot to apply your clear lip gloss. now, this wasn't just any gloss, it was your signature, lip gloss added a radiant shine and highlighted the natural beauty of your plump and full lips. your lips, always so perfectly glossed, assumed an irresistible charm that made them look especially appetizing.

to add onto it, your personality was in tip top shape, matching your looks. while sometimes your mouth could get a little reckless, you had an air of kindness, professionalism and just genuine good vibes. it was hard to dislike you, no matter the case. you were a woman of wonders.

you loved your job at the hair store too; maybe that was why your attitude was always good while you were there. it paid well, the hours were flexible and it was something you enjoyed. you loved how your manager let you pick out the wigs and the outfits that would be displayed, and sometimes she let you take home left over makeup and jewelry — which was how you got your favorite set of hoop earrings.

working at the hair store also granted you all types of experiences. sometimes you met upcoming make-up artists and beauticians, hair dressers, nail techs, lash techs — you always made sure to be extra helpful and friendly to everyone you met, just in case they could ever help you.

or… on the rare occasion, you met men. often, they were coming in for their wives, daughters, sisters, nieces, friends — and each time, they were clueless. of course, you helped, breezing past them with the smell of bubblegum and perfume, preferably daisy by marc jacobs.

today was no different.

you were the only one working in the store this saturday, and it was roughly around 12 in the afternoon. the sound of needed me by rihanna echoed through the store, giving it a nice ambiance. you clocked in at 9, and were scheduled to get off at 4 — you had a bit of a long day ahead. however, the store had been a bit slow today. not many customers entered; maybe three every hour, compared to a usual 7-15 people per hour. you were both grateful and a bit sad for the lack of people, as it left you with extra time on your hands.

instead, you found yourself thinking of your six year old daughter at home. alaina, your sweet girl, who was at her grandmother’s for the day. you fondly rubbed the bead bracelet she made for you, that spelled out mommy. your daughter was the most loving child you knew, and you adored her with every part of you.

as you gazed at your bracelet, you let out a soft hum. you’d have to get her another one from here, even though she already had a plethora. whatever you got from the hair store, you usually shared with alaina.

the entrance bell dinging had you snapping out of your thoughts of your daughter, turning your head to greet whoever entered. your boxbraids slid down your back as you looked. it was a little girl who entered, no more than nine. she was in a cute blue dress, with dark brown hair pulled into a ponytail. her cheeks were rosy, which had you cooing at her mentally.

“hi baby,” you called out to her, looking behind her for a parent, “where’s ya mama, hm? a lil’ one like you shouldn’t be walking around all alone.” the girl hadn’t noticed you, and jumped when you called to her. she put her hands up, waving them enthusiastically. “o-oh no, miss, i’m with my dad! he’s just getting his wallet. do you know where the nails are? and the makeup?”

you smiled at the little girl, stepping from behind the counter. you were in a beige sun dress, with some matching wedged sandals. the sundress was long, coming down to your ankles, but there was a slit on the side. it hugged your curves nicely, even though your little bit of pudge was much noticeable; you didn’t care. to be honest, the dress covered way more than your usual outfits, especially in the summer like this. you had never been scared to show your body, even after you had alaina and people insisted on you covering up; because you were a mother now. however, you didn’t give a fuck. if you wanted to wear your shortest shorts, you would.

“c’mere baby girl, it’s this way.” you offered the young girl your hand, which she took happily as you led her. “i’m assuming you’re looking for the press ons, right? not the ones you glue?”

the girl gave you an enthusiastic nod. “yes, ma’am!” she was polite, you noted, with a curl of your lips. her father must be raising her right. “my dad says i’m not big enough to ruin my nails with glue..”

you let out a laugh as you squeezed the girl’s hand. “your daddy’s right,” you mused, “stick to the ones you can press til you become a teenager.” you brought her to the kiddie nails, and stood with her while she made her pick.

the young girl seemed stuck between a pair of pink ones leopard print ones, and blue zebra print ones. “what do you think, miss? i can’t choose.”

you only gave the girl a shrug. “i say get both. let ya daddy worry, not you.” however, because you liked this little girl, you’d only charge her for one anyways. the girl nodded in agreement, giving you a giggle, which you quickly reciprocated.

all of a sudden, you heard the gruff call of, “tsumiki! where have you ran off to?” the girl perked up immediately, and ran to the end of the aisle. “dad! i’m over here!” she called, waiting patiently for him to come over.

you raised your eyebrow as you made your way over. you were a bit curious to see the man who had raised such a sweet and polite girl. as you reached the end, your eyes widened as they set on the man.

he was tall, unbelievably so. his towering stature, reaching at least 6’2, must’ve made him stand out in any crowd. his body was muscular, brawny and well-built, and t he black compression shirt he wore clung to his chiseled frame, accentuating the broadness of his shoulders. his hair, a deep black, was just a bit shaggy — the perfect length to frame his strikingly sharp face.

his eyes were a vivid green, so piercing that they could make anyone feel as if they were the only person in the world. they locked onto you and tsumiki. his attractiveness was lethal, and it was impossible not to notice the way he looked over you. his gaze was slow, lingering, and purposeful, almost as if he wanted to make sure you noticed his attention.

you would’ve been phased if you were a different woman; but you weren’t. instead, you gave him your trademark smile, looking up at him with a warm aura.

a scar sat on the corner of his lip. it twitched slightly as his lips curled into a smirk, making him look even more attractive to you then he already did.

“you work here?” came his deep, rough voice. it provoked goosebumps down your skin, but you didn’t allow yourself to show it.

“yup,” you answered, “sorry i wasn’t at the counter, i was helpin’ miss thing here pick out some new nails.” you watched toji’s mouth open, and held up a finger, “and yea, before you ask — it’s the press ons. no glue needed.” the man let out a hum and gave a nod of approval.

“good. tsumiki, go put those on the counter and if you want anything else, ya better pick before i get back up there.” he told her; his voice was rough, yet still somehow sounded caring. when tsumiki scampered away with an, “okayyy!”, he turned his vision back to you.

the once over he gave you earlier didn’t seem to be enough. he gave you another; from your champagne blond knotless boxbraids which were long and down your back, curving over the swell of your ass, down to your painted white toes in your sandals. shit. you were fucking hot.

“how old are you?” he asked boldly, not wasting a second.

you raised an eyebrow, “you ain’t ever heard it ain’t good to ask a lady her age?”

“so old enough,” he countered back with a smug smirk. “have you been able to drink legally for at least two years?” still asking your age without pointedly asking like before.

“i’ve been old enough to drink legally for five years,” you relented, “so like i said, old enough. why you askin’?”

“i like to know the ages of my women before i hit on ‘em.”

you grinned. you already knew you were going to like this man, and his attitude towards you solidified that. “and i like to know the age of my men before i let them,” you combatted.

“thirty-four,” he answered immediately, and the corner of your lips pulled up in satisfaction. twenty-six and thirty-four. not a bad age gap, only eight years. you could manage.

“you allowed to hit on me now,” you said playfully as you slid past him, “don’t make the shit corny, ‘cause i’ll laugh at yo ass.” maybe that’s his plan, you thought, him tryna laugh me out my panties.

the man let out a bark of a laugh, following after you. you could almost feel his eyes locked on you as your hips swayed while you walked. he only chuckled out, “oh, don’t worry about that.”

you went back behind the counter, ready to pay for their things. tsumiki had thrown a stack of bracelets on the counter, and a new tube of sparkly pink lip gloss to which you scanned and then only scanned a pack of the nails. her father raised an eyebrow at you, but you pretended not to notice. “that’ll be 18.75,” you informed. her father pulled out thirty dollars and slid it to you. as you prepared to give him the change, he shook his head.

“don’t need the change. consider it a tip or somethin’.” you furrowed your brows at him, but didn’t question the customer. instead, you handed them their things with a sweet smile. “bye, lil’ missy,” you told tsumiki, before looking up at the man, “come back soon.” your voice was low, and quite flirtatious. he gave you a smirk.

“oh, i will.”

and he did.

it was three days later when he finally came back. you were leaned over the counter, examining your new nails. it was hot, too hot to even be working. the doors were open, and the AC’s were blasting, trying to cool off the store. you wore a jean miniskirt, with a fat gucci belt on your hips. you paired it with a cropped pink tank top that had a deep v-neck, showing off a bit of your cleavage. your golden nameplate sat perfectly on the apex of your breasts. today on your feet instead of sandals were your pair of pink and white dunks. you had taken out your box braids, and gotten your hair done the same day you got your nails done.

now, you had gotten a lace front installed — and you looked good as fuck. it was a deep shade of vibrant purple, down your back. you had added your own spin, doing one of those heart shaped parts and gelling it down the side of your forehead, and doing edges on the side.

as someone entered, you turned your head to the side to greet them. “good afternoon,” you said cheerfully, looking at the woman who entered. she was dark skinned, with a bumped bob. her makeup was done sharply. you watched as she side eyed you, and muttered out a terse, “hello.”

immediately your eyebrows furrowed. “bitches got an attitude, okay,” you grumbled under your breath as she disappeared into the aisles. it was a few minutes later when she came to the register with a flat iron. off the rip, you told her, “oh mama, you don’t want this one. a few people who purchased this one have said that it heat up too quick and smoke a lot, then breaks. so go ‘head and get another one.”

the woman glared at you, looking you up and down. “excuse me, i didn’t ask for your opinion on what i’m buying. and if it’s so faulty, why haven’t you taken it off the shelves?”

her attitude immediately had you tilting your head, trying your best to bite your tongue. “ma’am, that ain’t my job, i don’t do merchandise, i work at the register.”

she rolled her eyes at you, before snapping out, “then don’t say anything about said merchandise.”

your next words came out before you could even think about it, “ho, i’m tryna help you not burn this crispy fuck ass bob off but okay.” upon realizing what you said, you didn’t apologize nor change. instead you cocked your head, tilting it, while staring at her blankly.

“excuse me?” the woman asked, “honestly, i don’t think i’m taking hair advice from a woman who don’t wear hers natural, and has her skirt digging up her ass. how old are you? you have to have a child at home, dress with more fucking class before you talk about me,” the woman’s face was twisted as she snapped at you.

“i know damn fuckin’ well,” you said slowly — and just like that, you knew you were about to cuss her ass out. “i know DAMN fucking well that you’re not talking to me like that. bitch, are you mad that your ass built like a fuckin’ square? bitch be mad then cause that’s why yo ass slope like y=mx+b. bitch, don’t you EVER question my fashion choices when you’re wearing leather in 87 degree weather. you fuckin’ cereal box built ass bitch, you know what, i got a trick for you—“ you quickly took the flat iron from her and pointed a nail at the door. “now get the fuck out, bitch you’re banned.” the woman opened her mouth to retort, but you were faster, talking over her, “bitch, i don’t give a FUCK. get the fuck out.”

the woman mumbled a, “ghetto bitch.” before storming out the store while you massaged your temples. it was nothing you hadn’t heard though. “fuck be wrong with bitches. man, i need a fucking BLUNT.”

“personally, i would’ve hopped over the counter.”

you looked up at the familiar voice, seeing the man you met the other day. immediately, a grin spread across your face. “look who came back.”

“told ‘ya that i would.” he mused, walking up to the counter, “you should’ve thrown the flat iron at her face. i would’ve paid money to see that.” he wore a white wifebeater and black basketball shorts. did he just come from the gym or something? the lack of clothing allowed you to see just about all of his muscles, and god, were you pleased.

you snorted, giving him a playful eyeroll. “shit, i was fuckin’ thinking about it. you saw the whole thing?” the mystery man, who you decided to dub mr. man, gave you a nod. “positively. you cleaned her so beautifully, and i have to add, you look so, so appealing when you’re angry.”

“shut up, nigga,” you laughed as you put your elbows on the counter, cupping your face with both hands. “what’re you here for?” you looked up at him, and he mimicked your action, fitting his fat ass arms on the counter.

“i need some hair gel for my son. he’s in this spiky phase, shit, i don’t know,” mr. man rolled his eyes a little bit, before adding, “and i don’t know which to pick. as you can clearly see, i don’t use gel.”

you let out another laugh, coming from behind the counter. “yeah, c’mon mr. man, i’ll show you which to use.” off the rip, you noticed how his eyes locked on your body.

yeah, i got it like that, nigga, your inner thoughts said as you internally hyped yourself up.

“mr.man?” he questioned from behind you, his eyes focused on the way your hips swayed, and the way a little bit of your ass was uncovered by the skirt.

“well, you never told me your name, so i gave you a nickname.”

he snorted a little before saying, “well, my name’s toji, for one.” you thought about it for a second for a second. was that a moanable name? you went through it in your head. yeah. definitely moanable.

“my name y/n,” you finally disclosed, “but everybody just call me n/n.” toji nodded a little. “n/n… that’s cute.” you noticed one of the items had fallen off the shelf, and without hesitation, you bent over to pick it up, completely forgetting about the fact that you were wearing a skirt, and the man behind you.

toji almost had a fucking heart attack. his eyes zoomed in onto your now slightly revealed ass, your sheer red panties that showed the plush outline of your pussy. shit. shit. it was over in a second, much to his mixed chagrin and gratefulness. however, he wasn’t some boy — he maintained a straight face and control. you placed the item back on the shelf and resumed walking.

“alright,” you said, as you reached the gels, “see, here’s what i use for my daughter,” you held up a jar of eco. “eco holds good for her, and it lasts long, to be honest. her hair is a bit thicker. and it doesn’t have like color residue like prostyle gel.” you grabbed the black container of prostyle gel. “but if your son has like brown-black hair, it’ll be good.” toji shook his head, saying, “nah, he has that weird bluish-black.” you tutted and put the prostyle down.

“there’s also gorilla snot gel, which i recommend if his hair is straighter, you feel me?” you held up the yellow bottle of gorilla snot.

toji looked at both and let out a short groan. “i can’t decide. i’ll take ‘em both and see which works better.” you shrugged and passed them to him. you took note of how positively huge his hands were. they could probably cover your whole face. or… your entire ass.

“i didn’t know you had a little runt too,” he made conversation with you as you walked back to the counter, “i forgot you’re almost 30.”

“yeah i forget too, trust,” you laughed a little, “my little girl’s my pride and joy, her name’s alaina. she’ll be starting first grade this year, i’m so proud of her. i actually got pictures.” you pulled out your phone and showed him your lockscreen which was the two of you. toji chuckled.

“y’all look alike, cute,” he commented, “my son’s seven, and tsumiki’s eight. you met her last time.” you fondly recalled your encounter with the polite young girl. “you a single parent, too?”

you gave him a nod, and a shrug. “alaina’s daddy claimed he wanted nothing to do with her, so i kept it like that. then his stupid ass got locked up, thank riddance.” toji let out a short laugh. “tsumiki’s mom was my first wife, and we divorced. megumi, my son, his mom was my second. unfortunately, she passed.”

“aw,” you said, pouting sadly and placing a hand on his large arm. “i’m so sorry for your loss, sweetheart. i hope you’re doing alright.”

toji laughed a little. “i’m fine, pretty mama, don’t worry about me.”

you bristled at the new nickname, giving toji a wicked grin. “that’s how you referring to me now?” you asked, as you slid behind the counter to the register.

“you’re pretty, and you’re a mama,” toji said with a shrug. “it honestly only fits.” you very pointedly made sure to check him out and said, “mmhmm..”

as you rung him up, toji said, “does alaina need any new friends? my son’s a bit shy and doesn’t talk to nobody but his sister… maybe they could have a few play dates?”

“yeah, i’d love that!” you answered, a genuine smile coming onto your face. anything referring to your daughter made you happiest. “your total is 14.95. here i’ll give you my number...” as toji paid, you rang it up. on his receipt, you wrote your number and passed it to him.

toji grinned and gave you a nod. “see you around.” you wiggled your fingers in return.

see him around, you did. you and toji were quick to hook up play dates whenever your schedules aligned. you became familiar with the routine of getting off work in the afternoons and scooping alaina’s to head to toji’s to play with her two new best friends.

you and toji often stayed downstairs, while they played in tsumiki’s room. you and toji would watch movies, roll blunts and eat food — or sometimes even play texas hold ‘em, in which you won every single time.

toji would grumble, and accuse you of cheating, when in truth, he was really just a bad gambler, but all was well. you considered toji a good friend… of sorts.

because that’s what you two were; friends. friends who sometimes flirted a little; you considered toji a friend when you’d bend over to pick things up in those skimpy jean shorts you wore; toji considered you a friend when he’d slide past you, pressing his crotch against the curve of your ass and muttering a, “excuse me, n/n,”; you considered toji a friend when you’d play sexyyred and say the lyrics a little too… forceful; and he considered you a friend when he’d make slick little sexy comments about your body before adding, “that’s just what other guys think.”

safe to say… there was a bit of tension between you two. and finally, it came to a crescendo.

it was normal, at first. like usual, you and alaina were at toji's house. it was around 9:30pm, and the kids had collapsed after playing all damn day and finally having a meal of chicken nuggets. you remembered the look on your face discovered them. they were heaped in the large bed; tsumiki had more than enough room for all three of them, yet they were together. alaina was draped over megumi and tsumiki, her face in megumi’s chest but her body pressed to tsumiki’s. they were all tangled up, limbs skewed and whatnot.

and now, you and toji were together downstairs, toji watching as your nimble fingers crafted the blunt — his were too fat. your feet were in his lap, and he was watching you with those bright green eyes. as you rolled, you were mumbling one of sexyy’s songs. “fuck me like you mad at me, baby.. i need that dick to drive me crazyyyyy…” you sang under your breath.

toji raised an eyebrow at you, “the music you listen to has some really… meaningful words.” as you licked at the blunt, you let out a laugh. “i agree with everything she say. when suki said that if you ain’t eating coochie, you ain’t fucking, i felt that one.”

finally, you perfected it and grabbed toji’s lighter. “you only fuck eaters?” he said, amusement trickling through his voice. you lit the blunt and took a deep inhale, masterfully blowing it up into your nose and then out again before passing it to him. “yup. only fuck eaters ‘cause they do it the best. you an eater, toji?” you asked pointedly, watching as one of his rough hands drew circles on your leg, then up to your knee, while the other lifted the blunt to his lips. he took an inhale, then another. god, you hated double hitters, but it was okay — it was only you two.

“wouldn’t you like to know?” toji shot back, his trademark smirk sliding across his face. his lip twitched, scar jumping.

“that’s why the fuck i asked you, toji,” you clapped back immediately, making the older man squeeze your leg while passing the blunt back. “watch your mouth, n/n. don’t get fucked up.”

“or what?” you immediately retort, holding the blunt up to your lips as you took another puff. “you not gon’ do shit to me, toji, like i honestly wish you w—“ your words were halted by the man throwing your legs off his lap, one hand going to spread them roughly as he pressed his fingers against your clothed cunt.

“i’m not gonna do shit?” he repeated, as your eyes went wide; he had obviously startled you, but you weren’t opposed to this one bit. as his fingers rubbed at your pussy through your shorts, you shook your head feverently again, looking at him as you held the blunt to your glossed lips. “not a damn thing.”

when all toji did was nod, you were sure you were in for it. and you were. he was quicker than you, grabbing your hand that held the blunt and quickly forcing you to put the blunt in the ashtray. the smoke you were holding in your mouth was forcefully removed as toji roughly pressed his lips to yours, the smoke being shared between you two as he pried your lips apart.

the next few minutes were coated in a needy haze. his big hands were everywhere, all over your body. moving to squeeze at your tits, your ass, your thighs. eventually the settled on the waistband of your shorts and began to unbutton them. before pulling them off completely, leaving you in your lacy dark blue thong.

he pinched the plush of your pussy, barely hidden by the panties — more like decorated by it. immediately, the scent of your slick, which was already dripping, filled toji’s nostrils, making him let out a wanton moan.

“fuck, mama,” he hissed as he trailed his finger down your slit, “you always this wet? this is how you’ve been the entire time?” he looked up at you, eyes darkened with lust.

“no,” you lied immediately, giving him a reckless smirk. “she just like that off the rip. i determine whether it’s for you or not.” toji only let out a little laugh. “word?” he asked. you opened your mouth to repeat the word back to him, but you were rudely interrupted by him slapping your pussy.

it wasn’t hard, but it wasn’t exactly soft, the pain sending sparks of pleasure through you. you hissed out a, “shit..” toji smirked at your reaction as he pushed your panties to the side, before delivering another smack, this time a litle harder. you let out a mewl, squirming in his hold.

“crazy,” toji said to you, “two lil’ slaps just made you leagues wetter. you sure you’re not wet for me?”

you refused to answer, only giving him a shrug. “so you wanna be a brat now, huh?” he asked you with an eyebrow raise as he began to pull the panties down your thighs. “like you weren’t jus’ all over me. ‘toji, you a eater?’” he mocked you in a high pitched voice as he pulled you forward, legs sliding over his broad shoulders. you remained silent, biting your tongue. maybe you were a brat; you knew that with toji’s strength and stamina, you would get much more if you drew it out. plus, you wanted to make him work for every moan, every word.

“you gon eat my pussy or not?” you asked boldly, your hand going to lace through his hair, nails pressing against his scalp. “like literally, shut the f—!” you were interrupted by toji latching his mouth onto you, completely ripping the words from your mouth.

his tongue, long and flat, slid between your plush folds, calloused hands digging into your thighs as he shoved his face between your legs. off the rip, his motions were rough and quick, tongue swirling against your clit before going down to your hole, curling against it to lap at your essence. you gripped the couch as you let out soft moans, trying not to be too loud — you didn’t wanna fuel toji’s already large ego.

“fuck,” he mumbled as he pulled away, “pussy’s so sweet, baby. i should’ve bent you over in that fucking store the day you wore that skirt.” you were unable to respond before he was diving back in, tongue messily trailing througu your pussy. he was there between your thighs, feasting on what you offered, lapping up all the sweet nectar you had to spare. his lips latched onto the delicate bud of your clit, sucking with a fervor that left you gasping, while he looked up at you with a gaze that was as heated as it was prideful.

one of your hands found its way into his hair, tangling in the soft locks as you gripped it tightly, the other clutching onto the plush fabric of the couch as though it was your only lifeline. your breaths were coming out in ragged gasps, each one harder to catch than the last, your mouth falling open in that perfect 'o' shape as you let out sounds so sweet and melodious, singing a song of pure pleasure just for him.

and you couldn’t help it; euphoria was pulsing through your body, coating your thoughts in nothing but toji. your toes curled, as toji slid his tongue inside of you. god, he was so messy, your slick already all over his face, his spit mixing with your slick as it trailed down your ass.

you were incessantly moaning, unable to even downplay or disguise it anymore. “s-shit, toji, fuck, that feels so good—!” he looked up at you with satisfaction as he slid his tongue into your entrance, curling it upwards against your walls.

you squealed, trying to scoot backwards away from the pleasure, but he was quick to yank you back, trapping you against his mouth, his hands coming to wrap around your thighs. one of his fingers traced the stretch marks on your thighs. he worked his fat tongue inside of you, curling and sliding as his pointer finger swirled your clit at such a fast pace, you was sure he was gonna give you something close to a rug burn.

his paired actions had you spiraling over the edge, the coil in your stomach stretching and stretching until it was ready to snap. “toji, ‘m close—! fuck, fuck— gonna cum!” toji’s movements became much more insistent, gaining in speed as he basically shoved you over the edge.

your orgasm hit you like a brick, your back arching off the couch as you gripped toji’s hair tightly, whined babbles of repeated words leaving your lips. if it weren’t for toji holding you down and anchoring you, you were sure that you would’ve grown fucking wings and soared away.

you creamed all over his tongue, and he made sure to pull away, before messily spreading it throughout your pussy, just to lap it all up over again, letting you settle, working you through the after effects of your climax.

you sucked in ragged gasps as toji pulled away, licking his lips and wiping his face. he stared at you with such intensity, shivers went down your skin. your eyes immediately focused on his hard dick through his sweats, the outline prominent. you tapped your foot on his thigh. “gimme that,” you breathed.

“do you deserve it?” toji said back, his voice a bit raspy. “been a bratty slut this whole time. you were so cocky, remember? i don’t get you wet, right?”

you wanted to maintain your pride, you really, really did. but desperate times called for desperate measures. “c’mon, toji,” you sighed sultrily, “i was just playin’.. just wanted to make it a little fun for you, you know that..” you spread your legs a little more, teasing him as you continued, “it’s all yours, i swear — been waiting for this for such a long time.”

toji only gave you a soft chuckle and the only words gave you were, “that right, baby?” immediately, he scooped you up with a single arm, flipping you over onto your hands and knees. you let out a noise of surprise, but immediately arched your back, looking back at him as he pushed his sweats down his thighs. his dick sprung up, and you couldn’t say you were shocked by it.

his dick was both fat and long, and it almost made your eyes pop out of your head. he had to be at least eight inches, veins running up the side of his heavy dick. his tip was a dark apricot shade, and it was leaking bad, opaque beads of precum sliding out of his slit. he was well trimmed, with heavy breeder balls. you almost salivated. but at the same time, you questioned how all that was even supposed to fit in you.

he seemed to know exactly what you were thinking. “don’t you worry, princess. you’ll take every inch of me.” one of his hands gripped your ass, spreading your cheeks apart as he directed his tip against your entrance, slapping it there a few times, making you groan in need. “t-toji, stop fuckin’ playin—!”

once again, you were rudely interrupted by him pushing the tip inside of you. he let out a hiss, your walls sucking him in. however, with just how wet you were, he slid right back out. he let out a snicker as he leaned his hand down to slap your pussy again. “but you not wet for me, alright..” he lined himself up again, and this time — he didn’t push into you slowly.

with one rough thrust, he filled you to the brim, forcing you forward as you let out a strangled noise, clawing at the couch. “toji! oh fuck..!” you pulled your hips forward, trying to get him to pull out a little, but he wasn’t having it. “s-shit, i’m not even all the way in yet,” he huffed, hair hanging in his eyes. toji was letting out pants, it felt as if your pussy was fucking suffocating his dick, strangling it.

inch by inch, he pushed the rest of his dick in, until the plush of your ass was nestled against his pelvis and stomach. he yanked at his shirt, pulling it off of his body. your slick was already coating him, dripping down to his balls. you were a mess, mewling just from him entering. you felt so full — his dick stuffing you better than you ever had been before. and it was driving you out your mind.

toji didn’t wait for you to adjust. with one hand on your ass, thumb rubbing against the ridges and dimples, and the other lacing through purple hair, toji pulled all the way out, and then slammed all the way back in. the force of his motions shoved you down into the couch, and immediately you let out a cry of, “t-toji! slow down!”

but slowing down wasn’t apart of his agenda. he rasped out, “nah, this is what you wanted, baby. so take it. take my dick like a good fuckin’ girl.” he began snapping his hips into you, the veins on his dick dragging against your walls just right. your cunt clamped down on him every time he tried to pull out, as if it was forcing him to make your cunt his new home.

toji was mesmerized by the way your ass jiggled and clapped with every movement he made, the sound of your skin slapping filling the air. he slapped your ass hard and then squeezed, making you squeal once more. “fuck, look at you. bouncing this ass back on my dick so good..”

at his praise, you looked back at him before proudly twerking back on his dick, putting on a little show. he laughed, his hand trailing from your hair to snake around your throat. “such a fuckin’ slut,” he said gruffly, before pulling his hips back so that only the tip was inside before ramming his dick back inside of you.

you felt him nudge against your cervix, and you let out a noise close to a scream, while his hand tightened around your throat. tears filled your eyes at the pain, your lashes beginning to slide. “you’re gonna wake up the kids, princess. wouldn’t want them to come down to seeing you getting fucked like some whore, right? keep that pretty mouth quiet.” he leaned down, chest pressing against your back as he curled his much larger body against yours. “but not too quiet. wanna hear you lose your fucking brain over this dick.”

his other hand came to wrap around your throat, and he began to jack hammer into you, slamming you on his dick over and over. your eyes rolled back, a mix of pain and pleasure twisting through you, that coil getting ready to snap again. “t-toji…” you slurred out, “g-gonna fuckin’ cum again…!”

“so fucking do it,” toji hissed as your clenching began to get more intense. “paint my shit, baby.” his voice was sending shivers down your spine, aiding your increasing pleasure. you let out ragged moans into the couch as your body trembled, pussy spasming wildly around his dick as you came a second time.

he didn’t slow down through your orgasm, instead, he went faster, if that was even humanly possible. he pressed down on your head, forcing your face into the couch, and pressing on your belly simultaneously. it forced you to have a deeper arch, but it also made you feel just how deep he was inside of you. pressing his big hand against your stomach to feel his bulge had toji grinning.

you were a wreck, tears sliding down your face, your lashes long fallen of. you were pretty sure your lace had peeled, but you didn’t care. you could barely think, barely form coherent sentences with how toji was fucking you. and he knew it. he knew he reduced you to a mess, and he wasn’t even halfway finished with you.

soon, he felt his orgasm coming, and he let out a deep groan. “shit.. where do you want my cum, doll? ‘m getting close..” you were quick to whine out, “i-inside, toji.. want you to cum inside…!”

“haah!” he grunted out with a smirk, “want me to fill you up, huh? want me to stuff you full with my cum? yeah, i bet you fucking do, look at you.”

“toji, toji, toji, fuckkk.. want your babies, c’mon, make me a mama again—!” toji laughed shakily at your dumb response, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “fuck yeah, dollface. you better not spill not one drop, alright?” he let out a strangled moan as he released, his thick cum filling her to the walls.

you sucked in harsh breaths, finally feeling relieved after toji’s constant fucking stopped. he seemed to slow down, gently fucking his load into you. you began to relax… however you were sorely mistaken.

“you thought i was done with you?” toji asked as he gripped you, flipping you over so that he could see your face. you looked a mess, but you were so, so pretty. your eyes were watery, face with tear trails all over. your lips were bruised from how much you’d been biting them. at least your hair was still intact… for now. toji leaned down and pressed a kiss to your jawline, down to your throat. he yanked at the top you wore, and when it didn’t want to cooperate, he ripped it and peeled it off of you himself. “toji, my shirt….” you whimpered but he dismissively waved a hand. “you’ll get one of mine.” he reached behind you, unclipping your bra and letting your tits spring free.

his big hands almost swallowed them as he began to leave bites and kisses all over your throat, collarbone and chest. “can’t possibly be done with you,” he said against your skin, “been waiting to fuck you like this since i laid eyes on you, doll.”

he left a plethora of hickies on your skin, very obviously marking you as his. you were still speared on his dick, and he began to roll his hips languidly inside of you, curving into your g-spot repeatedly. the feeling had you seeing stars as he gripped your legs and pulled them around his waist. with each thrust, he began to get more forceful and speed up, until once more, he was pounding your insides.

your nails went to his back, scratching, making toji wince in pain as his hips collided with yours. three of your nails had broken off. a third time, you felt yourself reach your climax once more, but it felt different. painful almost, with the last your clit throbbed. you managed to push away the toji-shaped clouds in your brain and realized.

“t-toji—! toji, ‘m gonna squirt!” you cried out as you twisted in his hold, the pleasure becoming overwhelming for you. “t-toji—!” he only smirked at you, yanking you closer. “make a mess f’me, mama. wanna see you get all messy… c’mon, c’mon, make that pretty pussy squirt on my dick.” he pressed another messy kiss to your lips as his hand snuck down to rub your clit, forcing more pleasure into your system. you let out a ruined, gasped noise — like you wanted to scream but couldn’t get it out. clear liquid gushed from you, coating toji’s lower half, some of his abdomen and the couch.

you were in too much of a haze to notice that soon after, toji came inside of you a second time. he didn’t pull out at first, instead opting to lay his head against your sweaty skin, pressing kisses. he realized that you would be completely gone for a bit, after that, so he was gentler with you. he pulled out, watching his cum slowly dribble from your hole after the two creampies he gave you. not wanting you to sit in your own fluids, picked you up and brought you to his room, putting you one of his shirts and a pair of his boxers before tucking you in.

he went back downstairs, eyes locked on the mess you made on the couch. a soft whistle escaped as he plucked your lashes off the sofa and put them on the table.

you probably wouldn’t become his girlfriend yet; but you damn for sure weren’t going anywhere now.

[zairene]

THE CAR WINDOW. nanami kento

* ˚ ✦ synopsis: while you’re out running errands, you approach a random car window to adjust your appearance not knowing there was someone watching from the inside.

* ˚ ✦ genre: fic, 1.2k word count !

* ˚ ✦ author’s note: gonna lean more into a jjk blog for a bit !

it was an average day.

you were low on some cleaning supplies in your home and decided that today would be the day you finally dragged yourself out of your bed to go to this damn store. it was the same routine every time. you went to the store, bought what’s off your list, then spent some time “eye-shopping” which meant in your terms to buy everything you see and spend way more than intended.

but this time, you were not about to repeat this habit of yours. you will get in the store, get what you need not what you want, and get out. that’s it. that’s what was on your mind when you got out of your car. you could hear the sound of your keys dangling as you fiddled to lock the doors of your car. you were speed walking in the parking lot determined to make your goal a reality.

but to your luck, a fly decides to invade your personal space which leaves you waving your hands like a lunatic and frantically patting your face down. now, this was not out of fear but more out of annoyance. and when the fly finally realized that it’d done enough torment to you, you were slightly embarrassed but realized that amid your freak out your hair was out of its side part and the part of your hair you’d been neglecting to fix was on display for any bypasser to witness.

on instinct, you walked to a random car window and began to fix this monstrosity of a mess this stupid fly had caused. too many thoughts were running through your mind to even realize the stranger peering through that same window from the inside.

to your horror, the car window winds down and you freeze. you come into eye contact with a man. a blond man with eyes so heavy, that they could probably carry all of your grocery bags in one trip. he sighed deeply and ran his hand through his hair. “are you done?” huffed the annoyed man.

“oops.” was the only thing you could manage to muster in that situation as a wave of shame washed over your body.

“‘oops?’” he repeated.

“i mean…” you facepalmed. “i’m so sorry, sir. i didn’t notice that you were in your car.” you stood up completely disregarding your looks at this point.

“sure. now can you get out of the way? i have things to do and i don’t have the time to deal with trivial matters such as this.” you were shocked at the blunt but rude statement.

“excuse me?” you crossed your arms. “i get that i blocked your way but it wasn’t intentional, and i apologized.”

“or you should’ve paid more attention, and maybe we wouldn’t be in this situation, yeah?” your eyes widen. you were not about to put up with disrespect this early in the morning.

“well, who shit in your cereal this morning?” you scoffed.

“nobody ‘shit in my cereal,’” he mocked, “i’m just annoyed that you blocked my way without any consideration that maybe someone was in the car.”

“it was a damn expression! there was no need for you to be so rude. all you had to do was say it was okay and we still wouldn’t be here!” at this point, you were heated. the coarseness from this man had made your mood a whole lot worse than it already was. “you know what, i don’t have time for this. good-fucking-bye.”

you walked away from the car, not wanting to listen to anything else he had to comment about your actions. needless to say, that single-handedly ruined your day. and it didn’t help when you ran into this man once again at the same store, in the same parking lot but only about a week later.

this time, you were just here to see some things you could buy for your house since you were bored and your friends were busy. you were just walking when a voice rang out behind you, “hey!”

you turned around to see the same man from a few days back. you rolled your eyes and turned back around. you weren’t exactly excited to deal with his shenanigans again. but this time, he was persistent. “wait!” he yelled again, seemingly getting closer. you stop in your tracks and sigh deeply—loud enough for him to hear. you swiveled around on your heel to see him again.

“what do you want?” you said in the same displeased tone he had when he first met you. he shuffled on his feet, looking slightly lost on what to say. for someone who was just telling you to basically fuck off the other day, he looked quite adorable from the way he looked nervous trying to spit out what he had to say.

“look…” he struggled to maintain eye contact, but still looked at you anyways. “i’m… sorry about what happened the other day.“

“oh really?” a smug look grew on your face.

“yes, really. i wasn’t in a good mood and really tired—“

“i wasn’t either and i was only running on a few hours of sleep. next excuse?” you quickly retorted. he furrowed his eyebrows.

“i don’t have any. it was extremely uncivil of me to act toward you in that manner, especially since it was merely an accident.” you raised an eyebrow.

“oh really? anything else you wanna say?”

he sighed. “yes, and that i’m seriously sorry for this. and because of the way i acted…” he paused, figuring out a way to word this next statement. “i was wondering if i could treat you to lunch sometime soon.”

“and what makes you think i’ll say yes to that?”

“i have to make it up to you somehow, correct?”

your eyes widened. now that was a surprise from him. with the way he presented himself, it looked like he struggled with saying the word sorry. maybe you had justifiably misjudged his character. i mean, he was very attractive. tall, quite muscular with nice short blonde hair that framed his face. his jaw looked like it could slice through any tension that was clear in the air between you too, with plump pink lips to match.

his looks weren’t the only factor that somewhat swayed you to agree, it was also the apology and the way he wasn’t phased by your comments and came back with the right words. so, he isn’t that bad after all, you thought.

“okay.. sure.” you smiled. you pulled out your phone from your back pocket and opened the ‘phone’ app, opening the keypad and giving the phone to him to suggest that you wanted his number. after a few seconds of tapping, he gives you your phone back and you go to save his contact. you quickly grasp that you never got his name.

“oh, i never got your name. what is your name?” you looked up at him, it seems he forgot too. “right. nanami. n-a-n-a-m-i.” he spelled out for you as you typed. you nodded.

“well, okay nanami. my name is y/n, it’s nice to meet you.” he gave you a small smile. “it’s nice to meet you too y/n.”

“i’m gonna go, i have things to do. i’ll text you later.” he nodded and you turned around again but this time in a better mood than you were in before. you had already walked about a few feet when you heard a yell.

“wait, how is your name spelled?”

“you’ll figure it out!” you yelled back. waving your hand goodbye.

(🪭) — JUJUTSU KAISEN TAGLIST // @mypimpademia @megurulvr @chinieh @jogeto @jamies-cumslut @laylasbunbunny @edgyficuselastica @goldenglow149 @s-surreality @fiannee @4kh @stqrriichiigo

(📝) — TAGLIST FORM :: sign to be apart of the taglist!

[ofourlee]

megumi x reader

"i want a kiss."

"no."

megumi let out a scoff, feigning being offended by your response

"no? you're denying me a simple kiss? that's cold."

megumi turned his head slightly, crossing his arms across his chest with a huff, his lower lip sticking out in a slight pout.

"gumi,"

he continued to sulk, his back facing you as he laid on his side. he was stubbornly refusing to look at you

"meg—"

"you're so mean to me. you're not even calling me baby anymore."

you slightly chuckle

"baby, can you look at me? pretty please?"

but to no avail.

you wrap your arms around him and kisses his cheek from behind. leaving occasional pecks on the corner of his lips.

"i was kidding, let me see your handsome face, baby."

megumi, still stubbornly facing away from you, huffed a small sigh before reluctantly facing your way.

"what?"

"are you done sulking?"

"yes, i'm done sulking," he admitted, his voice low and sincere. "in fact, i think i've been teased long enough. now, give me my kiss please."

[tvgals]

college nerd! geto who loves reading you “bedtime stories”, rather it just be a silly book from your childhood or a book about physics.

college nerd! geto whose glasses you often push up for him when he’s too enthralled in his homework, wanting to help your boyfriend when he’s working oh so hard.

college nerd! geto who doesn’t enjoy parties, but he likes tagging along with you sometimes, seeing you let loose gets him riled up.

college nerd! geto who likes when you stroke his hair while he blurts out notes to you, always telling him what he got right and wrong, showing him you listen and care.

college nerd! geto who can’t thank you enough after you helped him pass his exam, kissing you up and down.

college nerd! geto who decides this is a good time to go down on you for the first time, shoving his fingers inside you.

college nerd! geto who can’t help but push his glasses up multiple times just so he can see your pretty face as his fingers curl up into you.

college nerd! geto who sucks on your clit gently, licking a stripe along your pussy, laying his head on your thighs so he can admire your beauty.

college nerd! geto who slips it in raw for the first time, his eyes rolling back into his head in ecstasy, caressing your cheeks.

college nerd! geto who pants and moans above you, lowering his head to touch yours, whispering on about “i love you..” “y’so perfect..” “have my kids…”

college nerd! geto who cums inside, whimpering on about “i’m sorry, i’m sorry…” while he plunges his dick even deeper, grazing his hand along your thighs.

college nerd! geto who kisses your beautiful face, complimenting how well you took him.

college nerd! geto who, after aftercare, opened his physics textbook to start studying for his next test.

[dreadheadmadi]

“Reader has black hair and blue eyes-“

THEN ITS NOT AN X READER!!???

Edit below cut

Hey guys, so when I made this post, I was extremely frustrated and annoyed. Now that I’m way more mellowed out and had the chance to read a lot of reactions and responses, let me act my age and actually clarify some things.

First, I want to apologize to those who were deeply upset by my post. My post overall was towards those who claim they don’t write for a specific audience, and yet put specific descriptions in their work. There is absolutely NOTHING wrong with adding certain details to your reader, such as gender or body type. The issue comes in when you don’t properly title and tag it as so, or completely ignore it altogether.

If you see my post as an eye opener and want to change up your work, then you have every right to do so, but please do not think that this is an attack or jive directed at you. It’s just that some of us readers want exactly as promised. Like for example, imagine if someone asked if you wanted some fresh fruit they grew themselves. You agree, and when they show up, instead of handing you fruit, they give you a carton of eggs. Now, you might not mind eating eggs, but you were promised fresh fruit, not eggs.

I know some writers have said that they want to be more inclusive in response to my criticism. If that is what you truly want, then by all means, but I cannot stress enough: write what YOU want to write. Do not feel as though you’re being pressured to change what you put out; it’s just a means of how you categorize it.

Thank you to everyone who took the time to read, respond, and engage with my original post. I truly appreciate the perspectives shared, they’ve helped me see things more clearly and refine my thoughts.

[frid4y]

you always looked past that quiet boy in your classes, occasionally sparing him a glance. that was until he became your partner for a project in a random class. surprisingly, he was friendlier than his appearance. the slight, agitated face he always had gone the moment you spoke, and you learned his name was suguru.

the long nights studying in the library & putting together your project helped blossom a friendship. what you only ever saw the relationship as. sure, he was really good-looking, but he's just your friend, right? along with your hunch that he's inexperienced, it's just the vibe he gives off. he probably wouldn't know what to do if he saw a naked girl in real life. right?

wrong. so painfully wrong. what originally was hanging out in your dorm room turned into suguru thrusting into your dripping cunt from behind, his hand pushing your head down into the pillow, which is stained messily with mascara and tears.

"you gotta be quiet, baby… wouldn't want anyone to hear how much you fucking love taking my cock, would we?" you only manage to let out a muffled moan, making him let out a small hum before your head is pulled up from the pillow and his fingers grip your hair.

two sharp smacks! are delivered to your ass, and your lips part to let out a strangled gasp. suguru leans forward and captures your lips in a messy kiss, the sound blending in with the harsh noises of you being fucked stupid on his dick. you can't even remember how this happened. you guys were laughing about something, and suddenly you were being split open by his cock.

you want to let out your moans so bad. desperately beg for him to fuck you harder and deeper. but he's right, you gotta be quiet, these walls are thin. the whole floor doesn't need to know how much of a slut you were. or how bad you're clawing at the sheets of your bed, whining for suguru's cock like you've been starved.

suguru's grip on your hair loosens slightly as he begins to lose himself in the feeling of your pussy enveloping his cock, the feeling of your walls clenching around him being the source of his groans and small whimpers.

your mind and body register that you're getting closer, and you're now pleading for suguru to keep going, not caring how loud you are anymore. it just feels so good, and you just can't contain your moans anymore. the louder you get, the more it spurs him on to help you cum all over his cock. the little words of encouragement, mixed in with degrading names. it was just the perfect touch to make your orgasm hit you harder than ever.

suguru rubs your hip soothingly as your body convulses after that intense climax. "you did so fucking good… but i know this pussy can give me one more, can't she? now turn over, i wanna see your pretty little face while you're being a good little cumdump."

[blkkizzat]

❝AYY, FUCK YO IG, I PUT SOMETHIN' ON YO SONOGRAM— I'M THE MAN.ᐟ❞

─•──── FARMHAND!TOJI X BIMBO!READER

꥟ summary: farm au. you and toji can't keep your hands off each other since he first turned you out in the barn and he's determined to put a baby in you ASAP! ꥟ wc: 2088 ꥟ a/n: I had to do something for my mans for his bday and I MADE it in my time zone at least (pst) FarmHand!Toji just comes so easy to me.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DADDY TOJI.ᐟ

[ read p1: here ]

FarmHand!Toji who after the first time fucking you senseless in the barn can't keep his hands off of you. God, it's so hard for him to get any chores and shit done when your young tight cunny spreads so willingly for him.

Out in the pastures, the herd of cows block the distant view of the both of you from the farm. Making it the perfect location for Toji to freely fuck you sloppy like you've been pouting for all morning.

Wanting to tease his sweet lil' Bunny, Toji would have made you wait even longer (so he could do a bit of actual work) but you always kept him on his toes. You were so much of a brat you pushed limits with him constantly.

This time your achieve your naughty goal by flashing him your pantyless pussy.

"Whoops, must have forgot to put some on this morning! I'm so silly huh, Daddy?"

You bat your lashes and sway your jiggling hips so innocently. Like the hot sun wasn't glistening off the gooey slick drenching your puffy pussy lips —it was fucking obscene.

Obviously, Toji is hard instantly but you still needed to be taught a lesson and he'd yet to keep his promise of 'fucking some manners into your haughty cunt.'

You clearly still didn't know how to act.

What with his lil' Bunny skipping around the farm all morning bare assed and so nonchalantly too?

How many times does he have to remind you he'd kill someone over you?

No one else was allowed to see what belonged to him alone...

Jealous as hell, Toji angerily snatches you up as you squee in excitement finally getting what you'd been craving. Easily flipping you over, Toji's large muscular arms drapes you over the old wooden fence like you were a mere feather.

The fact that Toji was supposed to be patching up said fence, not causing further structural damage from how hard he was about to tear your ass up is not lost on him. He simply just can't bring himself to give a fuck at the moment, not when you get him so riled up like this. Pushing your thin white sundress up your back, Toji doesn't even need to prepare you before he ruts into your heated core. Honestly, it didn't take Toji long at all to mold your pretty lil' pussy to the shape of his stocky girth. Your wet warm hole welcomes him back eagerly like it was his home. The pull of that creamy cunny of yours sucking him deeper to the hilt—even before his own hips could shealth himself fully inside—shit.

"That's a good girl bunny, that pussy opens up so good f'er me now, n'—HELL... She's just as fuckin' tight too."

Pistoning forward, Toji doesn't waste time with warming you up with slow strokes.

Not when you act out like this.

He knows once you get this way you are practically begging for him to pound you rough, deep and fast.

True to the nickname he bestowed you Bunny, you wanted him to fuck you stupid like one daily. Demanding Toji's hefty cock be plunged into your cunt during all hours of the day—especially at night.

Your slutty pussy was so hungry for his dick stretching her, you even foolishly volunteered the farm's security codes to Toji. Meaning he could slip not only in and out of your room at night —but the farm entirely. This was excellent for the illegal business he was forming under the cover of the farm.

Little risk of getting caught now too.

That old farmer slept like the dead and he'd been able to bribe the less than scrupulous night security workers.

Heh. Smuggling contraband in now was a breeze.

But in order for his plan to be put fully in motion he needed to knock you up quickly. Cumming in your quivering pussy 3-4 times a day was a necessity and Toji was more than up for the task.

He needed a baby in you yesterday.

And yet the way your greedy pussy hungered for him, strangling his length every time you came on his cock for the nth time made him think she secretly wanted to be a mommy too —you were the only one who didn't know that yet. You milked him so well like you were made for Toji to breed you —just waiting all this time for his nefarious ex-con cock to destroy you.

Toji grunts escalate as the old fence creaks and shakes from him brutishly bullying himself further into your guts. You moan deeply with every maddening thrust of his pelvis forcing his thick meaty cockhead to kiss your womb.

"Shiiit..Mmmm—OOOH!" The rebound of your plump ass ripples against his pelvis and Toji thinks its his favorite sight in the world. Both hands on your hips, Toji digs crescents into your flesh as he drives him into you over and over, deeper and deeper. The vulgar noises of moist skin slapping echo from your bodies —bodies which only get hotter and wetter under the oppressive heat of the sun and it's all so intoxicating. Your chest heaves as you take desperate breathes, your lungs struggle to even expand with how roughly Toji plowing into you.

There's nothing you can do but dangle there and let Daddy Toji use you like he wanted—not that you would have it any other way, loving when his cock purees your mind into just as much of the sloppy mess as your pussy. Toji could tell by your cries too just how your ass liked to be ferally manhandled like you were one of these barn animals.

"Yeah that's right my slutty brat 'moo' louder f'er Daddy while ya squirt on his cock. Ya wanna let this whole farm know who's making you feel this good, huh ma?"

You whine at Toji likening your pleasure filled sobs to that of cow noises but you're needy 'lil cunny only squeezes him tighter —just as he knew she would. Toji knows how much you like him talking crazy to you when he's fucking you six ways to Sunday, balls smacking your clit.

Thankfully no one could actually hear you from way out here. Meaning he was free to spew all kinds of nasty shit into your ear drawing even more slobber from your swollen pussy lips. It only made you hotter on the inside your mind only focusing on his debased dirty talk and the drag of his cock against your g-spot —Toji was hitting it perfectly from this angle. "Ya know ya fuckin' suck at milking cows but this juicy pussy? She sure knows how t'milk a cock like its 'er job." And it would be your job too if Toji had any say. Fuck going back to school at the end of summer and fuck getting a career. You didn't need to do anything but lay on your back and let Toji do the rest. Heh, you wouldn't be able to do much else but be on your back once you started growing his kids inside you anyway. He'd keep you nice n fucked out to the point you'd almost stay pregnant.

Spanking your ass harshly, the sting fills fresh tears on your already bleary eyes. You squeak between your pitchy moans as your pussy weeps so much of your arousal around your sex and down your thighs the squelchy gurgles of your creamy cunt are heard throughout the field.

"S'gudddd Daddy! HAH—HARDER!!"

You really are the perfect slut for him. Wanting him to go harder?

Could you even handle that?

As your reward Toji gifts you another spank, shaking the fence entirely now as it sways on its exposed hinges. It's a miracle it's still standing.

But Toji was determined to have you all for himself, to have everything —you, the farm, a wife —to bring Megumi here away from his twisted ass family so you could be the mother he never had. Thoughts of domesticating you makes him want to bust in you even more as he chases his release.

Wrapping an arm around your middle Toji lifts you so he can thumb at your clit. The rough pad of his thickest digit scrapes over your bud sending rapid tingles through your body that has drool pouring out of your mouth and cunt. "Daddy's gonna put his milk in y'er tummy, yeah Bunny? Tell me ya want it slutty mama —beg me f'er it."

But you can't beg, you can't do anything but ride the rapturous wave of pleasure radiating from your core as you squirt on his cock like a good Bunny. Your orgasm following soon after with enough force from erratic rhythm of spasms in your walls to make Toji spurt is scorching seed inside you. Filling your womb as you purr from the sensation.

Toji bites harshly down on your shoulder —another mark you'd have to hide from your uncle —who thought you were just a rather clumsy girl getting so many marks on you from your farm chores.

Slicked in sweat and your gushy pussy's fluids Toji slumps forward still inside you, his entire weight bearing down on you.

"T-Tojiiiii!" You whine in that pretty, utterly angelic way Toji usually can't resist but he had to keep his cock plugged in you a bit longer if he wanted a baby in you by the end of the month. He eases up a bit though, rubbing your sore ass cheeks and murmuring something about 'when he finally gets to use your ass' as his thumb ghosts aimlessly over your puckered hole.

When Toji finally pulls out of you, you're barely standing. Slumping your elbows on the fence, your hips went a bit numb from being folded like a pancake over the rough wood fence with a big man like Toji putting his weight on you.

Truthfully, Toji didn't even want to pull out. He could go a few more but you need to get back to the farm soon before your uncle came around looking. He'd question you if you kept missing lunch everything.

As if you could read Toji's thoughts you pipe up, voice a bit hoarse already from all your moaning. "I told my uncle I'd probably walk to the lake again today. So he won't be expecting me back until the evening, you know..." After enough feeling returns to your lower body you push off the fence and prance over to a nearby tree at the edge of the clearing. Pulling off your dress fully you lay it down on the lush green grass in the shade. Fully nude, the sun peeks through the shade's leaves, decorating your skin in its shadowed rays.

You stretch like a cat on your makeshift dress-blanket. Spreading your legs wide and arching, you gaze over to Toji from under your babydoll lashes. He's already on his way over to you. "Looks like I'm your lunch today Daddy... c'mon n' eat me up before I get cold."

Oh you didn't know what you fucking did to him... or maybe you did?

You were clever sure but all reason flew out the window when it came to Toji from the minute he first jammed his cock into your lewd sappy cunt.

Heh, you wanted FarmHand!Toji to ruin you? Well little did you know that's exactly what he planned to do anyway— trap you, and ruin your life and that pussy of yours at the same time.

꥟

Back on farm an old dusty white bus stops at the gate.

A lone prisoner exits, a man accused of being a serial killer— 27 victims all skinned and gutted mercilessly like fish in under two years.

However, the man has always protested his innocence.

The evidence at best was circumstantial, with a conviction based solely off of a lone witness who was later proven to be unreliable. As a result the appeal of his life sentence is currently in process, much to the excitement and anger, respectfully, of both his many supporters and detractors.

Yet the way his P.O. comically cowers is a stark contrast to the vibe of the prisoner. The tall, well built convict appears calm, somber even.

This was really the man that killed 27 people?

His eyes survey his surroundings with the hesitant curiosity of a puppy—nothing like the dangerous threat the courts or his P.O. make him out to be. Handed over into your uncle's care, the flighty P.O. quickly gets back on the bus, signalling the driver to get ghost quickly as if your uncle would change his mind at the last minute.

Your uncle on the other hand isn't intimidated at all by the notorious, supposedly innocent, pigtailed cold blooded killer. "Welcome to the farm, son. Like I tell everyone, just do as your told and stay outta trouble —you'll do fine I reckon. Don't fuck this up now, boy. In your case especially, this is the chance to prove yourself worthy of an appeal or its back to solitary for life Choso Kamo."

꥟

♡ blkkizzat ©2023-2025 ♡ — 𝐚𝐛𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐍𝐎 𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐫— 𝐚𝐢 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐬, 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐦, 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬.

꥟ a/n: oh hehe, i wonder what will come of toji's plan now that Farmhand!Choso has arrived 😈😩? Also y'all think he's innocent or guilty? 💕🤭 tysm for reading! lol idk if i end up writing more of this but this is my no pressure, for fun project (i whipped this up in like 3 hrs so whether i will or when it will come out i can't say~ i already have sm on my plate but farmhand!toji is special to meee and its his bday so had to run it back on him. i may come back edit this since i was rushing sorry for any mistakes! reblogs and comments appreciated!

[kanekisfavoritegf]

full fic here

Nanami the 35 Year old Virgin Humps his sheets unknowingly when he dreams about you.

Nanami the 35 Year old Virgin swore off dating when working as a sorcerer until you came into his life.

Nanami the 35 Year old Virgin asks you out politely, despite the fear of being incompetent due to his lack of not only sexual relationships but emotional ones too.

Nanami the 35 Year old Virgin would offer to make you dinner at his place, and drink wine on his couch by the fire place.

Nanami the 35 Year old Virgin is absolutely mortified when he cums in his pants after you kissed him for the first time.

Nanami the 35 Year old Virgin is comforted by the way you treat him the exact same after he explains his lack of physical and emotional experience.

Nanami the 35 Year old Virgin finds himself pinning you to the couch and kissing you harder, keeping you down with his hips and making sure your legs are wrapped around him as he does so.

Nanami the 35 Year old Virgin doesn’t even care that his already stained pants seem to be getting worse as he rubs into you because you are letting out the sweetest moans for him.

Nanami the 35 Year old Virgin would beg you breathlessly between wet hot kisses and needily to teach him.

Teach him how to be your perfect lover in more ways than one.

[mysteria157]

Just a little sneak peak of my submission for @tsukimefuku's spookinky event! This has been SO fun to write!

All art credit goes to the beautiful mind and hands of Teri, @aliasnnmknt ! Thank you for letting me use your art and molding my background for the header! You're such a talented artist, and I'm glad you had your DMs open so I could gush about this man without reservation and how you bring him to life. Thank you, thank you!

Pairing: Demon! Nanami Kento x Angel Black!Fem Reader

Rating/CW: grey morality, religious undertones, corruption kink, worship, power dynamics (subtle fem submission), monsterfucking, smut, vaginal fingering and sex, oral (f! and m! receiving), mild blood/biting. MDNI!

Summary: The thick muscle of your wings press against cold ancient stone as he circles you with wicked, stone-faced intent. Glimmering obsidian fingers trace along your feathers until they quiver--fluttering with touch-starved bliss no angel should ever feel. It's forbidden--this sensation in your belly, this humiliating slick between your legs that be can smell, this overwhelming desire that you've spent eons trying to quell.

But now, trapped before a demon so captivating that you can't help but feel equally terrified and dreadfully aroused, reality burns your skin like the holy water that bubbles whenever it's within your reach.

You're not here to serve a divine purpose--you're an offering. And only Heaven knows if you'll fall to your knees before him, begging for corruption.

Here it is!!

[fleshbride]

PRESENTING . . . I HATE U!

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ HAJIME KASHIMO X BLK! F! READER SMUT.

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ CW: one-sided enemies to lovers, rough sex, vaginal fingering, edging, ruined orgasm, degradation, choking, breeding kink, spitting, hairpulling, cervix fucking, size kink, dumbification, overstimulation, dacryphilia, dick drunk y/n & pussy drunk kashimo, pussy slapping, usage of the names princess, angel, baby, slut & whore. soft! kashimo at the end.

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ wc: 3.8k

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ i went a little crazy on this one to be honest. like genuinely, i went crazy and i could’ve done more. i actually loved this smut tbh! mean kashimo <3333

He’s so annoying. It’s the only thought that’s in your mind as you glare at Kashimo Hajime — who might as well be the bane of your existence. He’s staring at you with the nastiest grin on his face; he had just tried to trip you in the library and gratefully, failed. You had quickly noticed his ploy and dodged his foot before he could swipe it underneath yours. “Are you fucking serious?” You snarl to him, plump, glossy lips pulling into a scowl. You two went to the same high school, and now — the same university. You wished that your dislike for each other would’ve dissipated when you two became adults; however, it didn’t.

To you, Kashimo is still as annoying and disgustingly cocky as ever. It’s only gotten worse since high school. He’s taller now — at around 6’4? 6’5? — compared to his teenage height of 6’1. Bulkier too. He still sports the same hairstyle, however; spiky shaggy cyan locks around his shoulders, with two small buns atop his head. His eyes are still that electric color that reminds you of fucking Sprite. As you glare at him, his face stretches into a grin. You curse the way your stomach tightens with attraction. Sure, you despised him — but you couldn’t deny the fact that he was attractive.

“Aw, don’t be mad at me,” he croons, head tilted, arms outstretched into a slight shrug, “I was… stretchin’ my leg, you know?” You tilt your head, pushing your box-braids off of your shoulder as you give him the nastiest stare in your arsenal. “Stretching… your leg. Shut the fuck up, Kashimo. My God.” Your voice is coated in both exasperated and irritation as you snap out, “We aren’t fucking sixteen anymore. Get a grip.” And as you pass him, you grumble out, “Stupid fucking bitch.”

Unfortunately, he hears you. “I beg your fucking pardon?” He questions, gripping your shoulder and spinning you around with little effort. He stares down at you, one perfectly chiseled eyebrow arched. “I’m a what?” Something pools in your stomach as he stares down at you. Your eye-view is with his chest and you have to tilt your head up to properly look at him. Your eyes trail over his face. He looks mad. For once, he drops that cocky ass facade. You made him drop it. A smirk spreads across your face. It’s your turn. “I said, you’re a stupid fucking bitch, Kashimo. I think you heard me the first time.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, unfortunately, I did hear you the first time,” Kashimo lets out a soft laugh as he runs a hand through his locks, eyeing you. It wasn’t his usual demeaning look, however. It was… closer to how you were looking at him. He gives you a small smirk and drops a heavy hand on your head, patting you. “I’ll see you later, ‘kay princess?” And he walks off, without another word, leaving your heart stuttering and mind confused.

It’s later that night when you’re in your dorm room, doing some studying. You’re in a flimsy tank-top and some small shorts that ride up the curve of your ass. Your textbook cracked open as you lay on your stomach, swinging your feet in the air, when someone knocks on the door. Your brows furrow as you question who could even be knocking at this time; it’s 12:13 am. However, you shuffle to your door and unlock it.

Kashimo is standing at the door, in nothing but gray sweatpants and a form fitting t-shirt. He tilts his head at you, looking you up and down. You frown; “What do you want, Kashim—” You’re interrupted by him grabbing your hips and pulling you into him, pressing his lips to yours. You’re shocked to say the least, gasping for air against his lips. Your smaller hands clutch his chest as you break away for a moment. “Kashimo,” you gasp out, staring at him with confusion, “What’re you—?”

“Shut up,” he huffed, picking you up and pulling your legs around his waist. He’s so fucking strong, you’re honestly concerned. “This what you wanted, right? Right, baby?” He was quick to move your textbook to the side, pressing you into the blankets. His hands are squeezing your tits, and your back is arching, and you don’t even realize it, but you’re mewling out, “Yes, yes, yes,” and you know you’ve lost.

“How long have you wanted me, hm?” He asks, as his hands grip the hem of your tanktop, beginning to pull it off of you — you’re all too eager, lifting your arms up, breathing heavy. As he asks you that question, you have to think back in your past. The fleeting glances, the heat that coursed through you whenever he merely touched your skin. “High school,” you murmur, clearly embarrassed as you look away from him. The reality of the situation closes on you; you’re in nothing but your bra and shorts in front of Kashimo, who you hate. (Don’t really hate, it’s obvious now.) And also kissed.

This was splendid.

Your conflicted thoughts are interrupted by Kashimo himself, his hand wrapping around the back of your neck and pulling you forward. “Yeah, I know. You just weren’t gettin’ the fucking hint — baby’s a bit dumb.” His voice is condescending, but drips into your ears like honey. He’s pressing his lips against yours again, pulling you into his lap. You can feel the hardness of his length against your cunt, making you let out a whimper into his mouth. The kiss is messy, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth, lapping at yours. He pulls away slightly to nip at your bottom lip, holding your hips down firmly against his body. As the two of you kiss sloppily, you grind your hips down onto him, and he lets out a soft moan. “Fuckin’ slut,” comes his rasped voice, “Pressin’ this pussy against me. Can feel how wet you are through the shorts.” You didn’t realize how wet you were until he said something. Now that you’re noticing it, you can feel your slick, trickling down your cunt, pooling in your panties.

His fingers hook through your shorts and he’s multitasking; pulling them down, down, down while laying you flat on your back against your pillows. His face pressing into your neck, lathering kisses against your neck and throat. His teeth dig into your skin, as Kashimo sucks a hickey onto your skin while his fingers dig into your thigh. His fingers creep little by little to your pussy. Quite frankly, you’re a hypersensitive mess, nerves completely on edge. All at once, everything was moving too fast and too slow for you. “K-Kashimo, are you sure—?” The question leaves your throat, but he’s quick to shush you with his fingers gliding through your cunt. Your legs spread immediately as you whine.

“Shut up, Y/N,” he hisses, index finger circling your engorged clit, “I’ve been waiting for this, and your fuckin’ mouth isn’t gonna ruin it for me.” So, you listen and you watch as he rips your panties, the fabric still clinging to your skin. He peels it off, leaving you in your bra and him fully clothed.

“Shut up, Kashimo,” you hiss, your legs scrunching as he runs his fingers up and down your pussy. “And just fucking touch me.” He gives you a glare, cyan eyes flickering with irritation. “You wanna be touched so bad? Fuck, Y/N, you’re just a nasty whore, aren’t you?” Kashimo grips your thigh and lifts up one of your legs, sliding two of his thick fingers into your soaking cunt. He gave you no time to adjust to the stretch and immediately began to thrust and curl his fingers against your gummy walls. You let out a soft moan, hands gripping the bed intensely as he pumps his fingers into you with no regard for your sensitivity, fingers leisurely, yet quick.

“O-Oh, fuck, w-wait—“ You stumble out, but Kashimo wraps his free hand around your throat, thumb coming up to touch between your lips. You take it without protest, sucking on it and sliding your tongue against it as if it was a dick. “Just a nasty thing,” he utters, eyes heavy with lust as the wet squelches of your pussy fill the room. The rough pads of his fingers are curling just right against that good, spongy spot in your cunt, that makes you whine around his thumb and roll your eyes back.

“So there it is…” He grins, and suddenly his speed increases, making sure his fingers press against that spot every single time. And it’s disgusting the way your back arches and your legs thrash a little, his thumb sliding out of your mouth as your pretty, high-pitched moans fill the room. “Kashi, Kashi, oh shit, ‘m close,” you whimper, gripping his arm as you let out pants and desperate noises.

“Close?” He muses, an eyebrow raising. “Fuckin’ slut, creaming all over my fingers like this. Thought you hated me, hm? You just hated the fact that you couldn’t fuck me, didn’t you?”

Your pride was injured. You didn’t answer, avoiding the question — desperately focusing on your impending orgasm and the way your stomach tightened. You were right there, right fucking there… And his fingers stilled.

You let out an anguished whine as he pulled his fingers out of you. Tears filled your eyes at the loss of your orgasm. “Kashimo, why—?” You choked out, throwing your head back, trying to hold in your tears.

“I asked you a fucking question,” Kashimo snapped at you, before wrapping his lips around his soaked fingers. He released them with a soft pop before reaching his hands up to undo his buns. His hair trickles down the sides of his face like a waterfall. You’d admire him, if not for your ruined state.

He gets on top of you, lifting your back to undo your bra, tossing it somewhere. “I’m gonna ask you one more time, do you fuckin’ understand me? Don’t answer? Don’t cum.” You knew he was mean, but you didn’t know he was this mean. You let out a pathetic whine, disappointed in yourself for succumbing so easily, but you needed it.

You needed him.

So you nod, and Kashimo’s lips curl up as he snaps, “I need to hear a yes.” You let out a weak whine of ‘yes’ and he simpers out “That’s a good whore.” You feel yourself get leagues wetter. He pulls off his t-shirt, and you think you’re salivating when you see his pale abs, perfectly sculpted. He has a body gifted by the gods, a divinely sculpted v-line and a happy trail that reflects his hair.

He grabs your legs, yanking you so that your entire lower half is in his lap as his fingers slide back into your cunt. He’s slow at first, languid, before rapidly snapping into a ruthless pace, his fingers curling inside of you. You’re a mess, gripping the sheets and moaning, your slick soaking his gray sweats. All the while, Kashimo is talking you through it.

“Messy ass pussy,” he hissed out, his other hand pressing a slap to your clit, “Look at the way this hole is taking my fingers. You’re just so eager, aren’t you? Now answer my fuckin’ question, baby. All that hostility was because I wasn’t fuckin’ you, right? Angel jus’ needed that attitude fucked out, didn’t you, Y/N?”

And you’re agreeing, grasping at the sheets as you pant out, “Y-Yes—! Yes, ‘m sorry, ‘m sorry— Fuck, right there, please, please, pleeeease… So close, Kashi, s’close.” He smirks at your state, purposely curling his fingers against your g-spot and pressing against it. You almost cum right there.

“So desperate. Just pathetic, Y/N. But I can forgive you.” He shrugs as if it’s no big deal, as if his long fingers aren’t ruining you right now. “Go ahead. Cum.” And as soon as you get permission, you’re letting go — creaming around his fingers as you squeal and tremble, stars dancing in your vision.

And to Kashimo, you look all too beautiful. He has to confess; he had never really hated you like you thought. He was just a dickhead. He was also a sucker for pretty girls like you, he was just bad at showing it. And when you looked like this, mouth open, eyes teary, braids splayed across your bed — God, he’s never wanted you more.

And it’s so visible in the way he’s yanking his sweats and his boxers down, revealing his perfect dick. Even in your orgasm induced haze, you’re sure you’ve never seen a more perfect dick. It has a delicious curve upwards, pale, like he is, but his tip is pink and weepy, precum gliding down the head. He’s neatly shaven, and his balls are heavy. He’s long, too long, tip just shy of his belly button. His girth is about three of your fingers. How are you supposed to take all of that?

You don’t know, nor do you care right now, not when he’s slapping his tip against your clit, making you whimper and spread your legs for him even further. Your hands wrap around his wrists as he goes to cup your tits, nimble fingers pulling at your nipples. “Hajime,” you croon, and the usage of him so off guard that his cheeks turn pink. “Pleeease, Hajime… Need you s’bad, put it in..”

The way you were whining drove him crazy; he couldn’t ever deny you, and he knew it. “Someone’s needy,” he whispered, his voice husky. He was just about as needy as you, and it was evident as his dick throbbed in his hand as he rubbed it up and down your slit before prodding at your entrance.

You let out a gasp at the stretch as he slowly pushed his dick into you, your hands immediately clutching at him, gripping anywhere you could hold. He was stretching you, so much so that tears were budding in your eyes. Your pussy gripped and clenched around him as he slowly filled you up; by the time he was done, you were arching your back off the bed, cries escaping your throat. His tip was pressed against your cervix, making slight pain course through you with every movement, even the slightest ones.

He’s gripping your thighs as he hisses, eyebrows furrowing at the way you’re wrapping around him. “Fuck, Y/N, there’s no way your pussy should be this tight around me…” And you’re nothing but a mess, whimpering as he tries to adjust inside of you, while giving you the time to get used to him.

“I’m moving now,” he said, pulling his hips back so that his tip was the only thing left in you. He slammed his hips forwards and you let out a squeal, your legs scrunching as he began to thrust into you, setting a rough and fast tempo immediately. You were damn near catatonic in your pleasured stupor, his tip nudging your cervix with every thrust. Your mouth hung open as the moans caught in your throat, the euphoria you were experiencing causing them to come out slow and gasped.

“I know, sweet whore, I know,” Kashimo murmured, slotting his lips to yours in a kiss as he grabbed your legs, bringing them near your chest, folding you in half. Every time he pulled out of you, his dick was coated in your messy juices, the sound of him thrusting into you echoing across the room. His hands found your throat, squeezing slightly while the two of you kiss, his hips still rolling into your pussy, which attempted to suck him back in every time he pulled out.

You let out shrill moans into his mouth as he pounded into you, the vein on his dick rubbing against your g-spot, making your toes curl. “R-Right there—!” You whine, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. “Fuck, fuck, Hajime—!” Kashimo chuckled against your lips, hiking your legs up higher.

“Needy girl,” he titters, “So drunk on my dick. You’re close soon, aren’t you, angel? Yeah, I can tell with the way this slutty pussy is clenching ‘round me.” He slaps your clit with his fingers, making you jerk, ecstasy coursing through you.

“Yes,” you whimpered, your stomach tightening as your pleasure nearly reached its peak. “Gonna cum—“

“Don’t cum yet,” Kashimo hissed, looking down at you. “I was gracious earlier when I let you cum on my fingers. But you’re gonna pay for those years of that bratty ass attitude.”

“But—“ You started, but you were interrupted by a particularly rough thrust that had you moaning, legs trembling. He’s trapped you down with his body, one hand around your throat and the other flicking your clit. “But nothing,” Kashimo snapped, hand tightening around your throat, “Fucking take it, do you understand me? And if you cum, it’ll be the last time you do so tonight.”

You let out a pitiful sob, tears filling your pretty eyes as you nod helplessly. Kashimo wishes he could be soft with you; wishes he could coo and kiss your tears, but no — this is what you wanted. You both knew it. So he pressed your legs further against your body as he slams his hips into you over and over like a man mad. All the while, your tears are spilling over as you let out sobbed moans. He thinks his dick gets harder inside of you while watching this show, as you cry out his name and begs to cum.

He should be generous, he should give you grace, but no. No, instead he pummels into you, his hand between your legs moving to press down on your stomach. “Y’feel me, angel? I’m so deep inside of you..” You wail pathetically, black spots dancing on the edge of your vision and your pleasure becoming tinged with pain. He only smirks down at you, before tapping your chin. “Say ahhh….”

You obey, lolling your tongue out, and he spits directly down into your mouth. You should’ve been repulsed, disgusted. But you weren’t. You swallow without even questioning or protesting.

“Good whore,” he praises, and you feel yourself ascend a little. Maybe your good behavior will convince him to let you orgasm.

“P-Please—“ You sob, as your nails dig into his skin, and you suck in ragged gasps of air, “Let me cum… ‘m sorry, ‘m sorry, won’t be mean anymore, p-please let me cum..!” His tip nudges your cervix again and you dig into his skin so hard, he begins to bleed. You’re trying your best, you really are, but it’s becoming a struggle. Your pussy is throbbing, your stomach squeezing as you tremble all over.

Kashimo hums as he looks down at you. He just can’t deny you when you look like this. Edges sweated out, eyes filled with tears that spill down your perfect cheeks, all depraved and hungry for him. “Hm… Alright. Make a mess all over my dick, won’t you?”

You’ve never been more relieved to hear such words. You let go, pushed off the edge as your cream coats his length. Your back arches off the bed as you gasp, eyes rolled back. Your mind is a haze and you’re barely there, hanging on by a thread. You collapse onto the bed as Kashimo’s thrusts slow by a margin and he moves back to let your legs drop.

But he’s not finished with you, at all.

“Turn over, Y/N,” he commands you, and when you don’t respond, he grabs you and manhandles you onto your hands and knees. He pressed down on your back, forcing you to dip until your stomach is pressed against the bed nearly, but your ass is perfectly arched for him.

“W-Wait, ‘m sensitive—!” You gasp, as he thrusts into you with reckless abandon, hands gripping your hips. You squeal out a “Haji! Hajime, no more…! Too big—!” But he isn’t listening to you. He’s intent on ruining you to the fullest, and two measly orgasms can’t do that. His hand fists your braids as he slams his hips snugly against your ass, the clapping sound filling his ears with pride. He watches the jiggle of your plump ass as his dick splits you open.

You’re a drooling mess, head pressed into the blankets, muffling your incessant noises. He yanks your head up, snapping out, “None of that shit. Let me hear those slutty moans.” His lip is pulled between his teeth as he lets out a groan. Fuck, he’s getting close. But he wants to make you cum one more time before he does. He releases your hair and watches as you drop like a ragdoll, hands barely fisting the sheets. You squirm a little when he slams against your g-spot, and try your best to crawl away, but you don’t get far. He grips you by your hair and slams you back onto his dick, making you cry out. He’s grabbing you, scooping you up while sitting at the edge of your bed. You’re facing him and he can clearly view your face now.

Your eyes are glassy, mouth open in a small o. He grins. Look at you, reduced to nothing. He’s grabbing your legs while you’re in his lap, and with no care in the world, he begins to drop you down on his dick. You’re letting out noises mixed with a scream and a moan, arms around his back, acrylics dragging at his skin.

“One more, princess,” he’s groaning in your ear, even though you’re unsure how many times he’s pulled out of you. Three, right? You can’t remember; your head is foggy and the only thing you can focus on is the way his tip is pressing against your cervix, the way his big hands are cupping your ass as he drops you down on his dick.

And suddenly you’re gushing, creaming all around him, so hard and so forceful that it makes you collapse against his chest. But he *still isn’t done.* He’s still thrusting into you, his hips stuttering and becoming reckless. “Gonna fill you up, ‘kay?” He groans and you nod, nod, nod, babbling out, “C-Cum in me, please… Want your cum s’bad, wanna be swell with your cum—“

He’s hissing out moans as he slams into your cunt, “Yeah angel, gonna give you a fuckin’ baby with the way I’m gonna stuff you full of my cum—“ He lets out a choked out groan as he grips your hips, holding you down on his dick as he shoots thick, warm ropes of cum inside of you.

You collapse against him and his arms wrap around you, caressing your skin and pressing kisses to your forehead. “Good girl. So good f’me, Y/N..” Your eyes are closing, exhaustion creeping over you, when you hear him say, “Love you.. Gonna take care of you, princess.”

You fall asleep with a smile on your face.

[iiiiiiis-things]

idk just thinking about how you burst into your home damn near slamming the door shut, only for toji to stop it with the large palm of his hand before he smoothly walks in behind you. you're on 10 right now, stomping and shouting around the house (while your husband follows like a lost puppy) until you make your way to the kitchen yelling something about how it was "totally unnecessary to punch him" honestly toji didn't even know what the hell you were going on about, i mean he wasn't even listening. he silently convinced himself that it wasn't his fault- no it was definitely yours that he couldn't focus on the sweetness of your voice. i mean he just couldn't stop himself from trailing his eyes down to your ass, sinfully watching from his stance at the doorway as it jiggled with each hard step you took. "you can't keep doing this shit man-" your words go in one ear and out the other, again wasn't his fault, he can't help but think about is how fucking sexy you look right now. lace tussled into a slight mess, lip gloss smeared across your puffy lips because of how much you opened your fat ass mouth out of anger, and that dress ? oh that dress is what gotten you in the situation in the first place, the way it hugged your frame perfectly, mapping out each of your curves in all the right ways. had you not wore it like he told you to he wouldn't have had to beat his boss ass for staring at you a little to long. lashes that had been ripped off are still in his car, sitting prettily right on his dashboard, he couldn't care less in fact he was glad you took em off ecstatic even, toji loved to see you natural, toji thought you were so god damn fine

"what ?"

...did he say that out loud ?

"nothin'" he muffled out "are you even listening? see this the shit i'm talking about-"

toji wanted nothing more than to bend you over the kitchen island and shut your big ass mouth with each deep stroke he gave you, dick hitting deep in that gummy area that always turned you into mush whenever he found it, but alas he didn't, he knew you were angry, just didn't know why. aren't you glad he protected you from the preying eyes of his boss ? did it cost him his job ? maybe.. but it doesn't matter because it was all for you, his lovely wife. "here asshole" toji finally snapped out of his head when he felt you shove something against his chest before walking off. noodles ... you made him-

"a cup of noodles ?" he questioned following you out the kitchen "you didn't eat at the party." the scar on his pretty lips decided to rise. oh how sweet you were, even after being so pissed at his possessiveness you still cared enough to make sure he ate before the night was over but there was still one problem.. "you didn't either" "i'm not hungry." once you reach the bottom of the stairs he stops dead in his tracks "baby- where you going ?" "to bed." no hug ? no kiss goodnight ? no invite ? oh he fucked up.

smut! under the cut (18+)

"now do you forgive me?" voice comes muffled from beneath you as you ride out your nth climax of the night your husband had been sucking and licking into you for hours drawing out orgasm after orgasm. and shit were you ovulating? because you just can't get enough. "fuck" you roll you head back in pleasure riding the sweet sensation of his nose repeatedly brushing against your clit

*smack!*

"i asked you a question mama" you moan loudly at the combination of the nickname and his tongue thrusting in and out of you hitting that special spot each time. "y-yes baby" you grind down to match the rhythm of his tongue as he begins to play with the fat of your ass tugging and gripping tightly, encouraging you to move your hips faster "'m sorry baby, so so sorry" his lips wrap around your rednend clit while he stuffs two fingers into you. at this point you were so overstimulated but you just couldn't stop riding his face even if the world was ending. bringing a hand to his hair you push it back unveiling those gorgeous green eyes. toji looks up making eye contact with you, you begin feeling the tension that was building up about to finally burst (again) "i didn't mean to upset you" he wraps his fore arms around your things getting you to grind down even harder against his perfectly fat nose "i-it's okay toj- fuck you're so deep" "i just don't like when other boys stare at you" he couldn't even bring himself to call his boss a man. a man would never violate a women's privacy like that, basically eye fucking her while she's out with her man. you felt everything, every touch, and god you were so hot, moans were leaving your mouth left and right as you felt him continue sucking, his fingers thrusting into you so desperately as if they were asking for forgiveness too.

this was gonna be a longggg night .

[zairene]

gojo satoru, who usually isn't the type to settle down. he wasn't completely against the concept of relationships. actually, he yearned for one, believe it or not. he's always been content with the idea that he'd eventually come across the 'one for him' after his continuous escapades with a plethora of women. somehow, at first, he didn't feel that way with you. he had pursued you with the same intention he had with every other woman he's been involved with.

to sleep with you. as morally degrading as that sounds, it was the mindset that contributed to the roster he had been able to rack up over the last few years. plus, every woman he had interacted with had the same goal; so how could he not think this way? yet after the both of you hooked up, he couldn't find himself just ghosting you like the rest. his usual routine would consist of him slipping from the bed sheets in the midst of the night, leaving no trace that he had ever been there. leaving the girl wondering if the night before had just be a lustful dream.

maybe you were just different. maybe you had ways of pleasuring him that no other women had ever done to him before? or maybe this was his mind trying to cover up the fact that he had maybe been interested in you. because he felt this way, he had took this chance to ask you out on a proper date the morning afterwards. at first you were surprised. the day before, he explicitly stated that he wanted to do things with no strings attached.

yet, you couldn't find yourself to pass up on the offer. maybe giving him a chance wouldn’t be the worst idea.

🏷️ TAGLIST :: @mypimpademia @megurulvr @chinieh @jogeto @laylasbunbunny @jamies-cumslut @sapphicshav @edgyficuselastica

TAGLIST FORM

[ofourlee]

megumi x reader

you nudge megumi softly, your head nestled against his chest, the warmth of the blankets making the quiet night feel even cozier.

“i want ice cream,” you whisper, your voice barely louder than a breath.

megumi groans, not bothering to open his eyes. “baby, it’s 1 a.m. you don’t really want ice cream right now.”

megumi’s arm tightens around you, as if to convince you to stay put.

but you’re not so easily deterred.

you shift, sitting up just enough to give him that wide-eyed, innocent look you know he can’t resist.

“i do, though,” you say, a playful pout on your lips. “please, gumi?”

he cracks one eye open, staring at you with a mix of disbelief and amusement.

“first of all, it’s the middle of the night. second, you didn’t call me baby. third, we could literally just go tomorrow,” he mumbles, trying to close his eyes again, but you can see the grin starting to creep up.

you lean closer, resting your chin on his chest, your lips just inches from his.

“but it won’t taste as good tomorrow,” you tease, drawing out the words, “please, baby. i want ice cream now.” you bat your eyelashes dramatically, giving him that final, over-the-top pout

he sighs, dragging it out like he’s in real agony, before he finally opens both eyes. “you’re impossible,” he groans, tossing the blanket aside.

but before you can respond, he’s already reaching for his keys, muttering, “ice cream at 1 a.m. i can’t believe i’m doing this.”

you grin, unable to hide your excitement as you grab his hand, practically bouncing. “you love me,” you sing-song as you head out the door.

megumi chuckles, pulling you close as you step out into the cool night air. “yeah, yeah. lucky for you, i do.”

[tvgals]

p!links!

this is choso after you two have been sexting for the past couple days while he was out on a mission. he missed your tits so bad :(

this is what toji sends you after you refused to join him for a bath. it’s safe to say you and toji now love cold bath water.

this is what happens to nanami after you left him so needy this morning, he had to resort to sniffing your scent off of your pillows, poor baby.

this is how suguru punishes you. you’ve been mouthing off to him all day, you even pulled his hair a couple times to tease him, but now you’re bent over his lap in submission.

this is how sukuna fucks you after you voiced your jealousy to him. he’s so upset that after all this time, you could even THINK of him with another woman.

and this is you and satoru after a long day at work. you two have been leaving teasing messages around all day, and now that you two are together, you can’t stop.

[7brownsuga7]

Thinking about how perfect life would be if Nanami was your husband. Treated like a lady in public whilst he fucked you like slut in private. He radiated every bit of respect and class. You would never have to ask for anything. Perfume? Yours. Designer bags? A given. Back shots while he bends you over his desk? Out of the question. His tie stuffed in your mouth, silencing your moans as you mumble in pleasure. His deep voice calling you his “good girl” makes your pussy clench, unraveling under his touch. Yes, he’s a gentleman for sure, but behind closed doors is where you see the darker unrestrained side of him that he only reserves for you.

Every moment with him is intoxicating. The difference between the reserved man in public and the passionate one in private is enough to make your head spin. You love your weekends together; a dream felt routine where grocery shopping turns into stolen moments—his hand brushing your lower back, his lips grazing your ear with promises of what's to come. And when you get home? The groceries aren't the only thing getting ate. His hands explore, his lips worship, and he reminds you just how much he cherishes you.