#the way I want to frame this and put it on my wall

[berrryparfait]

hello~ can I request sumth about dom succubus/ vampire mc with sylus or zayne (or both)

give in to me... . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁༉‧₊˚.

— ༉‧₊ᐟ featuring: sylus, zayne x succubus! dom! fem-afab!reader

— ༉‧₊ᐟ tags/cws: [nsfw] smut, reader hypnotizes and restrains him with her evol but fails to k*ll him in the end, reader crashes zayne's clinic, piv, creampie, intense orgasms, multiple positions, overstimulation, non/dubcon, catching feelings(?)

— ༉‧₊ᐟ word count: sylus – 1.7k | zayne – 1.2k

— ♫₊ᐟ soundtrack: southbound – artemas

✧ a/n: thank you sm for the req! this idea was too sexy to resist lol i was SWEATING while typing it all out...

The blood moon is out, and your insides are growling… You know very well that not a soul in Linkon can resist your…unique charms. Who will your lucky victim be this time?

Just how long will he last?

A mansion? Haven’t seen one of these out here in ages… Your heart lurches at the sight (not that you have one, of course—it’s all purely figurative), and you can almost taste the blood of luxury on your tongue.

You understand the person who owns this mammoth of a building won’t be easy. He might even desire to overpower you. But you won’t let him. You want to feel the life slipping out of him while you drink up his sex, watch as he begs for mercy and finally realizes that, no, you’re in control.

Your pussy throbs at the thought, and you have to remind yourself not to get too carried away. Getting lost in these fantasies will do nothing for you right now. Your first plan of action is to find a way in.

He’s left a window open. How careless. You crawl in with ease (thanks to your natural agility) and slide in and out of hallways, keeping a lookout for people or traps or security cameras or weapons. Not that you’ll be needing a defence against weapons, anyway. You don’t need a gun when you have supernatural sexual allure.

The house is strangely quiet, and you start to wonder if it’s even occupied at all. There’s an air of modernity to the place, so you doubt it’s been abandoned. On vacation, perhaps? No, you can sense the recent presence of a human being here. It’s past midnight, so whoever owns this house has to be in it. You just need to find them… A light flicks on somewhere on the ground floor. There you are, kitty cat. You hurry past the elaborately decorated walls and paintings, and find yourself hiding right behind a doorway to what seems to be a large, grand kitchen.

And in it stands a man so gorgeous that you think you may have finally met your match (in the looks department, of course). He’s tall, imposing, handsome, and looks like he bleeds money. His dark red eyes captivate you. You can’t wait to rob them of their pretty color.

Taming the excitement in your veins, you slowly step out from beneath the shadows, the red silk dress you have on revealing the curve of your bare breasts and emphasizing the pinch of your waist. Your walk is measured, calculatedly seductive.

He’s mid-drink when he spots you, the glass of dark wine tilted halfway to his mouth. His startling eyes lock on yours as he pauses, prolonging his sip.

“Why hello there. I didn’t mean to startle you,” you begin, voice dripping with innocence and honey. “It’s late, and I couldn’t find my way around…”

You take a few tentative steps closer to him as you speak, fully prepared for any sudden movements. Sure, there’s always the Evol option. But where would the fun be in that? You’re like a spider in this little game, waiting for the prey to fall right in your trap, of its own volition.

He puts the glass down on the counter, his movements as calculated as your own. His bathrobe hangs snugly over his delicious frame. “And…you happened to waltz right into my home.” His voice is as velvety as his robe, each syllabus sending tingles straight down to your core. This is going to be good…

Your face remains impassive. Slightly scared, even. “I apologise for the intrusion. I’m just so confused—and anxious—and—I don’t have anywhere to go…” Your expression is downcast as you go on about how sorry and pathetic you are, and when he drags his crimson eyes down the length of your body you think you’ve finally got him—

“I know what you are.” There’s an edge to his tone, one of warning. “You’re a succubus. Blood moon come early this year?” He says it with disgust, as if even the mere mention of the word spills toxins on his tongue.

Clever. Guess my suspicions were right, as usual. You don’t mind the challenge. After all, labor bears fruits. You maintain your ignorant disposition. “I-I’m just a girl. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Cut the act, demon.” His gravelly voice really turns you on. He’s probably big as hell, too. “I don’t have time for your theatrics. I would’ve killed you myself if you’d visited last week, but fortunately for you my assistants are on vacation, and I really don’t want to clean up a mess right now. Get out of my house.”

Damn it, he’s good. I want to taste his cum before he dies. “Oh, there’ll be a mess, alright… Just not the kind you’re hoping for… Not yet.” You inch closer and closer to him until his chest is at eye level. He’s glaring down at you like you’re a pile of shit. “So hostile… So…difficult…” You run a delicate finger down the valley between his abs, and you feel his breath hitch ever so slightly at your touch.

“Get. Out,” he grits out, the hard, defiant edges of his jaw sharp enough to slice through skin.

You tiptoe and whisper into his ear, “Surrender to me, sweetheart. Just give in…” He exhales a little, and your arousal heightens. You roll your hips against his groin and his muscles grow taut. Someone’s getting hard. You can feel it through the fabric of your thin, skintight dress: the outline of a beast between his legs.

You get on your knees then, looking up at him with pure and unassuming doe eyes. You can smell his arousal. Can he smell yours? You reach between the plush material of his robe and pull it apart, his erect cock springing out to kiss your face. Furious, he backs away, but you activate your Evol then, restraining his hands to his back.

“You’re making this really hard for me, you know.” You use your powers to shove him down to his knees, and before he knows it, he’s leaning back against the oven with his hands bound behind him and his knees bent on the marble floor, with nothing to conceal his glaring erection.

He struggles beneath your supernatural hold, hissing in rage as he realizes his strength is no match for yours. “You’re a heinous witch—” he spits, though he’s cut off by the Evol you tape to his mouth.

There we go. Time for this fairy to work her magic. You get down on all fours and lean towards his cock, your mouth hovering inches from him. He squirms, clearly unused to being the one following orders for once. “You’re going to want me, kitty cat…”

Your lips wrap around his engorged head, and his eyes squeeze shut. The taste of his dick is instantly addictive, and you find yourself wanting to choke on it. Slick coats your pussy, which aches for its turn. You move your mouth along his length, going up and down as slowly and languidly as possible. A muffled moan escapes his throat, and his thighs clench. “Good boy…”

You begin to suck him off faster, pumping the base of his shaft with your right hand and fondling his balls with your left. Low growls sound from deep within him, and his eyes nearly roll to the back of his head. “Mmmh… Mmh—” With a crude “pop”, you release his cockhead from your mouth.

I need him in me. Now. In one swift movement, you pull your black lace panties down and they fall to the floor, forgotten. You hastily pull the skirt of your dress over your head and toss it to the side, now fully naked and ready to take him.

Still panting, his eyes travel the length of your perfect body, lingering at your perky breasts and sopping cunt. You grab onto his shoulders for balance and angle your pussy directly above his leaking cock, positioning your tits right in front of his face. Lowering yourself onto him, you moan as his girth slides against your walls. The pleasure is blinding, and you feel as if life itself is returning to your body.

He groans pathetically as he enters your wet pussy, your tits brushing against his nose. He looks disgusted. Angry. Incredibly and unabashedly desperate. You begin to bounce on his lap, both hands braced on his shoulders as his dick plunges into your cunt and wet squelches fill the room.

You remove the Evol tape on his mouth, and he’s no longer mouthing off. His dirty, needy moans mingle with yours as he begins to thrust upwards, no longer fighting the carnal desire within him. “Ugh… Fuck— Fuck—!” he laments, his expression pained.

You release him from the restraints. Of course it would be easier for you to drain him while he’s bound. But you preferred to let them take control towards the end. To let them fuck themselves to death.

He up in an instant, twisting you around and pounding into you from behind. Like a puppet on a string, he fucks himself senseless as he grabs your hips and utterly destroys your pussy, balls slapping against your clit. “Fuck, I can’t— I shouldn’t be doing this—” he swears, revelling in the feeling of his cock gliding against your folds.

You scream out in ecstasy, the feeling of his tip rubbing against your cervix sending you into a mindless haze. He isn’t getting any weaker. In fact, he’s getting stronger, his thrusts more and more powerful. Why is this happening? This shouldn’t be happening—

He slams into you so strongly your vision blurs. His cock twitches so violently you know what’s coming, yet it still surprises you when he cums; thick, hot liquid filling you up as you orgasm so viciously your entire body shakes. Your pussy spasms in tandem with his release as he continues to pump spurts of cum into you, his cries echoing yours as you hear your mixed juices fall to the floor in puddles.

He slides out of you with another “pop” and you fall to the floor, still vibrating with desire. It takes you a while to realize he isn’t dead. How…?

“It should’ve killed you…” You watch in bewilderment as he pants on the ground, cum staining his discarded robe. Very much alive.

“It’s going to take more than that, Kitten.” His eyes gaze into yours, and for a shocking moment, you think he really sees you. It’s sickening.

Something flutters to life and begins to pound in your chest.

Hunting isn’t something to be taken lightly. You only get to do it once a year, after all—if you’re going to drink someone up tonight, it has to be someone positively delicious.

You roam the streets at midnight, keeping a lookout for your little snack. No, not him… Hmm, not her either…

There. He catches your eye immediately, a handsome doctor with icy blue eyes entering the clinic. Working the night shift, perhaps? Something about him intrigues you, though you can’t quite identify what it is… Maybe it’s the way he commands attention—not in an overtly loud or obnoxious way, no, but in a quiet, reserved fashion that makes you want to take your panties off.

Are you hiding anything, Doctor? Are you as quiet as you seem? You imagine proving that theory false, and your pussy slickens at the thought.

You enter the clinic in your black cocktail dress, a good amount of cleavage on display for the masked patients to gawk at. Ignoring them, you use your Evol to manipulate the queue system such that you’re up next.

The number on the screen changes, and you knock twice before waltzing into the doctor’s office, your shiny stilettos clacking on the polished floor. “H-Hello, Doctor…” you stammer, appearing as shy and docile as possible. It mildly grosses you out that this has been your most successful baiting tactic so far.

Your right hand instinctively grabs onto your left elbow, emphasizing the squeeze of your breasts and making you seem smaller.

The doctor, Zayne, takes off his reading glasses and assesses you—not sexually, but analytically. Damn it, he’s not a creep. This will be harder than I thought. “Hello. Take a seat,” he replies, gesturing to the chair across from him. His words are curt and direct, though not impolite or unfriendly. A no-nonsense, to-the-point kind of guy. Interesting.

You sit down, pretending to fumble a little as you lower yourself onto the chair. Your tits bounce. He doesn’t seem to notice. Taking out a plastic clipboard, he swivels to face you and asks, “Well, what seems to be the problem?”

You blush and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “You see, I-I’ve had these…urges…” Your eyes evade his, darting around the room in mock nervousness.

He tilts his head slightly, pensive and observant. “What kind of urges?”

You bite your lower lip. “It’s like a funny feeling…in my…” you wave at the spot between your legs, and he squints at the movement.

The faintest hint of a blush appears on his cheeks. “Ah. And…you have these urges frequently?”

You nod. “I have them all the time. In fact, I’m feeling it right now.” He frowns at you, seemingly at a loss. “It only goes away after I touch myself, like this.” You reach under your skirt, and he rushes to stop you.

“Ma’am, please refrain from masturbating in the clinic. This is a sterilised environment that needs to remain free of bacteria—”

“Please, Doctor… I just need to…do it…” A wicked grin twists your lips as you use your Evol to tie him to the chair, sealing his mouth with invisible tape. You lift the skirt of your dress up and pull your lace panties to the side, your cunt already dripping wet.

His eyes avoid your fingers as they begin to stroke your folds, the instant wave of pleasure eliciting a small moan from your lips. His muffled protests are barely audible (though you did lock the door with your powers beforehand), ensuring zero interruptions.

You whine as the pads of your fingers circle your engorged clit, and use your Evol to force his chin down so he has a clear view of your movements. The redness on his face intensifies, and you see the vague outline of his cock hardening beneath his pants. There we go…

Your fingers jerk faster, and your back arches involuntarily as he watches you abuse your sopping pussy. The chair beneath you is drenched by now, your arousal leaking out in waves as you begin to finger yourself brainless.

All the while, he’s being forced to watch your every thrust, every spasm. He’s fully erect now, and you both know it. You remove the silencer and make your way towards him. “Please— Don’t do this…”

His pants unzip themselves and his boxers are yanked down. “Be a good boy for me and be quiet, okay?” You lower your leaking pussy down onto his dick, and the tip pops in between your folds almost effortlessly. You both groan at the sensation, the feeling of raw, primal sex too good to resist.

“Fuck— Stop—” he whimpers as you begin to bounce on his lap, your ass slapping against his thighs and tits bouncing in his face. You force your swollen tit into his mouth and use your Evol to latch his lips around it, but you don’t have to use it for long. He’s sucking on your boob with so much force that you cry out loud.

He writhes underneath your weight, still trying to set himself free. Adorable little thing… So weak. You grind against him faster, each roll of your hips in such quick succession that his eyes squeeze shut and fly to the back of his head. “Ugh— Ugh— Ugh—” he grunts between each upwards thrust. Bounce. Ugh— Jerk. Ugh— Squeeze. Ughhhhh…

Someone knocks on the door. “Is everything okay in there?” You lose focus for just a second, and your powers slip free. He’s no longer restrained to the chair.

Strong hands lift you up and plop you onto the desk, your ass landing on a stack of papers and a few paperclips. What—? There’s no time to think before he’s slamming into you, each thick vein of his cock rubbing against your inner walls and driving you insane. Your elbows are propped up against the table, which shakes so loudly with every jerk of his lean hips. “What are you doing to me—? Fuck…” The table has grown slick with your mixed juices, along with everything on it.

The knocking continues. “Hello?! Is everything alright?!”

He slams into you so hard the table nearly falls over. White ropes of cum burst into you as you tighten around his girth, shaking so hard you see stars. Your cries mirror his as he cums all over your thighs, your stomach, the papers on his desk.

Most notably, he isn’t dead. What the hell..?

He’s breathing hard as he composes himself, sinking back down onto the chair in exhaustion. “I…apologise for that… I lost control of myself… You came in here looking for medical help, and I abused that…”

“Y-You don’t feel faint? Or ill?”

He shakes his head regretfully. “It’s my job to be asking you that.”

“You’re not surprised by my powers?” You’re at a loss for words.

“You’re not the only Evolver around here. Now if you’ll let me, I’d like to do my job as your doctor and help you with your sexual urges. Medically, of course.”

A faint pounding seizes your ribcage.

— ⋆˙⟡ ©berrryparfait

《 please do not copy / plagiarize / translate my works or publish them on any other platforms. 》

[cmdrfupa]

Constant

6th and final installment of Upheaval

cw: all content warning and chapters can be found here

an: heeeeey.. So here we are. I will admit, I rewrote this ample times mostly because I didn't want this to end and any words felt wrong lol. But this feels good, an ending that I can smile about. Thank you for every rb, comment, share and blurb conversation we've had about this series. My first, albeit short, multichapter.

Thank you to @ambiguouslady42 for yapping with me about this series and for your major contributions to songs that fit this work! You are a gift and I love you dearly.

Muchos besitos! Thank you for reading <3

"We work on ourselves first. It's the only way things will begin to make sense in the long run."

07:43am

  Hot. Too hot for this early in the fall and too hot for you. You watched the peachy, yellow hues in the sky shift as you speedily made your way into the school.

  The hallways were warm, the early morning light slowly danced across the walls and splayed in from the high framed windows. The natural light had been your favorite attribute of the Kyoto school. The open display of appreciating nature, the traditional architecture that felt timeless. It unfortunately began to feel like home a little too late in the game for you.

  The call of your name pulled you from the reflective mood. You turned, Utahime coming into your sights as she walked toward you.

  “There you are!” A smile she always said was reserved for only Shoko now brightened the hallway, wrapping an arm around your neck to hug you. “I just finished setting up for our new student breakfast. Fresh onigiri, some sandwiches, fresh pastries, juice and probably the freshest mackerel I’ve ever seen this school put money towards.”

  Shaking your head, you hugged back, the familiar tenderness enveloping you, as if it knew you needed this comfort.

  “Thank you again for coming in so early on an off day. I know it isn’t ideal for your off day—”

  Utahime squinted, almost offended at you thinking she wouldn’t show. “We’re starting off this trimester with you leading us to the promised land. I was coming in even if I was bedridden.”

  You felt that her confidence in you was incredibly misplaced. This was just filling in for you. Gakuganji was on sabbatical and the school can’t run itself. So why not send the second most qualified to run things for a few months?

  For now, you felt it was unfortunate that it was you.

  Utahime walked beside you down the corridor in a brief silence before clearing her throat.

  “Yes?” You could here the question before it even had the chance to fumble from her lips.

  With a far from graceful stammer, Utahime finally got it out. “How’re things with Nanami. Things okay?”

The question was going to come up eventually. And it was either going to be now or when Gojo rubbed it in that he knew before everyone else.

  “He’s back in Denmark with his mother.” Cut dry and to the point. You stopped in front of the auditorium, a smile to hide the fleeting feelings of loneliness you’d been feeling the last 2 months. “Yuji made it back from his visit with Nanami I believe last night if you want to get any updates from him.”

  The overwhelming sensation made your chest practically constrict as Utahime lightly rubbed your arm. “Terrible attempt at hiding your feelings.”

  You choked out a laugh that closely followed behind the tears that rolled down your left cheek. “I don’t know why I cant talk about this without crying like a baby.”

  Every single day since Kento went home, you’d found that hollowness that Ooitaishi swore would go away on its own knocking at your door, unrelenting and all consuming.

  Utahime pulled you into the teachers lounge, sitting you down and immediately putting on the kettle for tea. “When did you last talk to him?”

  The air conditioner kicked in as your thoughts arranged themselves in your mind. “Three weeks ago? He’d just made it to his family home and was settling in to rest while I was getting ready for the day.” A slow exhale soothed your thumping heart for a moment.

  The low whistle of the kettle filled the small room and Utahime wasted no time pouring the steaming water over the small sachet of apple tea, slowly walking it over to you with a small plate of sugar cubes in the other hand.

“How is this feeling for you? Have you talked to that therapist since he left?”

  “Once. And thank you,” you graciously took the cup from her hand and smiled. “It was a virtual session. Just needed to express my frustrations as he was making preparations for the move.”

  One to never back away from expressing how she really felt, Utahime, almost growling, sat next to you. “Do you want to talk about it now? Or do you want me to shut up? I’m only good at one of those but I’ll try my best to be shut my mouth.”

  Your lips curled into an almost innocent smile and you both quietly laughed. That familiar feeling of comfort finding you again for the first time in almost a month. “Need some time before I talk about it.”

  “I��m gonna go finish setting up. Finish your tea and take some time to breathe. I’ll be in the main gathering room if you need me, okay?”

  With a comforting side hug and squeeze, Utahime left you alone in the cold room. Your thoughts whirling into another storm too cataclysmic that not even tea could keep at bay.

____

The hum of cicadas filled the Kyoto air as you leaned back into the lounge chair, your book readers screen being the only beacon of light as you swiped to the next page.

It was your new normal to end the day outside under the moon. It felt as if the illuminating surface was cleansing you; washing you anew and rendering the day as part of the past. Making you feel a little less lonely under the guise of night.

Your phone buzzed and you answered without looking at the screen. It was late—later than you'd realized—but you still answered without hesitation.

"Hello?"

"I didn’t wake you, did I?" Nanami’s voice came through the receiver as clear as day. You sat up, looking up from your reader, blinking as if he’d appear at the balcony railing with each bat of your eyes while you focused them.

"No, I uh-. just finishing my reading for the night."

There was a pause, the kind that stretched just long enough to mean something. Then, he exhaled. "I’m at mother’s for supper tonight. Thought I’d call."

You nodded to yourself, picturing him sitting in that neatly arranged house, sleeves rolled up, rubbing at his temple the way he always did when he had too many thoughts at once.

"How is she?"

"She asked about you," he admitted. "More than once."

Your fingers tightened around the phone. His mother had always been kind to you, always warm despite her son’s restrained nature. The day she called you her daughter?

You almost fainted.

"I should visit soon." the nape of your neck turned warm as you looked out at the moon. “Would be good to see her.”

"She’d like that," he said, and though his voice was careful, there was something else there—something just shy of hope.

Before either of you could say anything more, his mother’s voice floated through the background. "Tell her I say hello—and that she still owes me a lunch date!"

A small smile pulled at your lips. "Tell her I haven't forgotten."

"I will," he said softly. And for a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence between you no longer heavy, just... existing. Then, his voice lowered slightly. "Did you get everything with the house sorted? I’m sorry I left that for you to do.”

You sucked your teeth, humming. “No apology necessary. But I did get it all sorted. Should be receiving the final offer in a matter of two weeks if that young couple from Milan are the buyers.”

“Good good. I’ll be sure to have my accountant send over your percentage the moment it clears.”

Nanami cleared his throat. You could hear the soft chime of his mothers wind chimes serenading you from afar. With a sigh, he closed the call.

“Take care of yourself, alright?"

"You too, Kento."

“I love you.” he softly admitted before ending the call.

Leaving the night air a little colder than before, you leaned back, exhausted and heart shattering.

The teahouse was nearly empty, tucked into a quiet city alleyway like it wanted to be forgotten.

Steam curled from your cup as the scent of roasted barley floated lazily between you and Utahime. Rain tapped the windows in a soft, rhythmic hush.

You sat with one leg tucked beneath you, staring into your tea like it held the answer to a question you hadn’t dared ask.

Utahime took a sip, watching you over the rim of her cup. "You're quieter than usual. That mission didn’t go badly, did it?"

You shook your head. "No. Just tired."

A beat passed. Then she said, gently, "That kind of tired doesn’t come from cursed spirits."

You let out a low exhale, lips tugging into the smallest of smiles. Of course she’d see through it.

"It’s Nanami," you admitted. "Or rather... the absence of him."

Utahime nodded slowly, setting her cup down. "Still no word?"

"He called last night," you said, voice careful, like saying it too freely might make it less real. "He was at his mother’s and he has asked about an update on the house. It wasn’t—dramatic, just… there. Like we were holding a thread and neither of us knew whether to pull or let it go."

Her gaze softened. "You still love him."

You didn’t answer right away. The tea had gone lukewarm.

"I don’t know what love is supposed to feel like anymore," you said eventually, fingers tightening around the ceramic. "There’s distance, but not emptiness. Anger, but not resentment. It’s like… we cracked but didn’t shatter to hell. And I don’t know if that means we’re fixable or just broken in a cleaner way."

Utahime sat back, crossing her arms. "He was always more structured than spontaneous. Maybe he’s still trying to build a perfect solution for post sabbatical instead of just… reaching for you."

You huffed a laugh, dry and small. "He probably drafted a reconciliation and recess schedule."

"With bullet points," Utahime added, cracking a grin. Then, quieter, "You don’t have to wait for him to make the first move, you know."

"I’m not sure I know what I want to move toward."

The honesty left your mouth before you could dress it in something neater and delicate. It hung in the space between you, raw and unembellished.

Utahime didn’t try to fix it. She just nodded, like she understood.

"You don’t have to know right now," she said. "Just don’t pretend it doesn’t matter to you. That will be what makes this feel like a doomed ending. That kind of pretending will rot you from the inside."

You looked at her then, really looked—and realized that maybe she knew more about holding herself together than she ever let on.

"Thanks," you murmured.

She raised her teacup in a half-toast. "Anytime."

And for a little while, the silence between you wasn’t heavy. Just shared.

The last nail went in with a firm, final click. Nanami stepped back, brushing the sawdust from his hands. The aging railing was now sturdier than it was over 30 years ago—no more screeching, no more wobbling. Just smooth, sturdy function.

He straightened, flexing the stiffness out of his shoulder, then turned toward the kitchen where the soft golden light from the kitchen spilled onto the wooden floors as he went to clean off his hands.

A few minutes later, he joined his mother on the porch, side by side on the long wooden bench that overlooked the small garden she'd maintained since before Nanami was even a thought. Dusk was settling, and the sky was painted with long strokes of orange and fading indigo. A breeze whispered through the lavender stalks by the fence.

His mother sipped from her tea, her knitting bag settled by her feet, half-finished socks peeking out like little ghosts.

She was aging, but gracefully. Silver had threaded into her hair waist length blonde hair, and her hands had thinned, but her posture remained proud and steady.

"That railing was long overdue," she said, knitting needles clacking gently beside her. "I kept asking the neighbor boy to do it, but he’s more interested in his girlfriend than a hammer these days."

Nanami gave a small smile, slow and tired. "You shouldn’t be climbing stairs anyway."

"I’m older, not ancient, dear. If I waited on you every time something needed doing, I’d have to fall down the stairs to get your attention."

He sighed through his nose, but the faintest huff of amusement escaped him.

They sat in comfortable silence for a while. His mother worked her needles with practiced ease—click, slide, loop—while the sky deepened into indigo. A breeze stirred the trees and brought with it the smell of sweet grass and evening earth.

Then, without looking at him, she asked, "So. When are you going to stop pretending you're just visiting?"

Nanami blinked, slow. "I didn’t say I was staying."

"No, you never do. But the way you fixed my railing, re-organized the pantry, and stocked my freezer says otherwise."

He didn’t reply right away. He reached down and picked a stray thread of wool from the porch, toying with it out of distraction.

His mother paused in her knitting, but still didn’t look at him. Her voice softened. "Have you spoken to her?"

That thread between his fingers was wound tight before he noticed he was even doing it.

"I called last night."

"How did that go?"

He shook his head. "It was fine. Polite. Like we were tiptoeing across thin ice."

"But there was ice. Not nothing."

Nanami let out a quiet breath. Contemplating on if should disclose some of his own shortcomings and therapy progress. "We did the couples counseling thing. Went regularly. Practiced some of what we learned at home. We really tried."

"Trying doesn’t always mean fixing, Ken."

He glanced over at her. "I know that."

His mother gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. "So what does this mean, then? You’re waiting to feel ready? Or you’re hoping she’ll do the hard part first?"

"I'm not hoping for anything," he said, too quickly. Then, quieter, "I'm… trying to understand what comes next."

"That's not the same as leaving, Kento."

He looked out at the yard, the patchy grass and the line of fireflies beginning to spark along the edge of the garden. His voice was low. "She asked me once what our ‘new normal’ would look like. After everything. After our work, the losses, the weight we both carried into bed every night."

He paused, his throat working.

"I told her I’d figure it out and come back when I had an answer."

His mother finally turned to look at him, eyes kind and unblinking. "And?"

He shook his head slightly, jaw clenched. "I don't know if there's an answer. Just… more questions. Can we be what we were? Should we be? Am I the man she married anymore, or just a shape wearing his skin?"

"No one is who they were before the world chewed them up," she said gently. "You don’t go back. You find each other in who you’ve become. Or you don’t."

He swallowed, the quiet around them thickening.

She reached over, laying a hand over his. Her fingers were light, a little cool, but steady.

"I watched her hold you together more than once, even when you thought you were hiding it well. You can’t fake that kind of care. And she didn’t stay through the counseling just to be polite."

He didn’t respond, but his thumb brushed the back of her hand in a silent acknowledgment.

"If she’s waiting, Kento, it’s not because she’s lost. It’s because she’s trying to be kind. She knows you're still carrying something too heavy to put down."

"She deserves more than this," he said quietly.

"Maybe she doesn’t want ‘more.’ Maybe she wants you. But she won’t beg. You taught her better than that."

The knitting resumed beside him. Slow, steady.

Nanami sat there for a long time, eyes fixed on the horizon, the twilight deepening around him. He thought about the call. About the pause in your voice when you said his name. About the weight that hadn’t lifted—but had shifted, somehow.

"She said she might visit," he murmured.

His mother smiled. "Then we’ll make the tea strong, and sweep the porch. She likes when it smells like lemongrass."

He glanced at her, a ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips. "You remember everything."

"Mothers do," she said. "Especially the things their children try to forget."

The sun finally vanished below the hills, and the night took its place. But it was a gentle kind of darkness. One that felt a little less lonely.

Your phone buzzed just a little past lunch time—an unexpected call, but not unwelcome.

“Mama Nana” read the screen.

You smiled faintly and answered, tucking the phone between your ear and shoulder as you stirred a pot on the stove.

"Hello?"

"There you are," came her familiar, lilting voice, touched with Åstrup gentleness. "I was hoping you weren’t off wrestling with your work or wrangling something worse."

"Only wrangling lunch today."

"Ah, good. Even warriors need to eat properly."

You chuckled and leaned against the counter. "It’s good to hear from you."

"Likewise, dear. I just wanted to say thank you again—for the tea you sent. I’ve already hoarded the best sachets and told Kento he’s not allowed to touch them."

"That sounds like you."

"I have to maintain order in this house somehow," she replied with mock seriousness.

The two of you fell into light conversation—she mentioned some gossip from her knitting club ("Did you know Miyako’s eldest finally proposed to that poor girl after six years? Six! I told her if he didn’t do it soon, she should’ve married his father out of spite."), and you told her about a recent mission that left your uniform scorched and your pride only slightly bruised.

Then her voice softened, slowing a little.

"He’s been here a few weeks, you know. Kento."

You paused, the spoon in your hand hovering over the pot.

"He mentioned he’d be there for awhile during his travels. Said something about helping you fix up the house?" you said carefully.

"Mm," she hummed, but didn’t push. "He fixed the railing, organized my pantry, restocked the freezer—looks at me like I might break if I breathe too deeply."

You chuckled, "That sounds like him."

"It does."

There was a beat of quiet—comfortable, but threaded with something unspoken.

Then she said it. Indirect but clear to you, "He talks in pieces. Always has. But he’s been quieter than usual. Still, I think he’s beginning to put his pieces back where they belong."

You didn’t answer right away, your fingers curling slightly against the countertop.

"He told me about the… distance. The silence that sits between two people when neither wants to be the first to speak. He didn’t say much more. But he didn’t have to."

She let that sit for a moment, then added gently:

"He always did need time to make decisions, even as a young boy. Taking 10 minutes to decide on which candy bar he’d buy at the market.” The older woman laughed softly in nostalgia. “But when he makes them—he makes them fully. Clean. Decisive. You remember."

Your heart beat a little slower, a little heavier.

"I do," you said softly.

"Well," she continued, her tone now shifting—lighter, almost playful—"I won't spoil anything. But if a certain someone gets the idea to bring you here for a little getaway, I already have your favorite rice vinegar stocked. And I might have taken your wedding photo out of the drawer and set it back on the shelf. Just for the energy of the thing."

You exhaled a soft, laughing breath. "That’s very subtle of you."

"I’m a master of restraint."

She paused again, voice turning quiet but full of emotion.

"I don’t know what the two of you will decide. That’s your path to walk. But… whatever comes next, you will always be my daughter-in-law. That part doesn’t change—not in my heart."

It hit you deeper than expected—so gently spoken, but unwavering.

You swallowed the lump forming in your throat. "Thank you. That means more than I can say."

"Then don’t say it. Just come visit soon. My garden’s a mess, and I need another set of hands I can boss around."

"I’ll bring gloves."

"You bring yourself. That’ll be enough."

As the call ended, you stood there for a moment in the quiet hum of your kitchen, the words echoing soft and warm in your chest.

Something was shifting. Not fully returned, not fully repaired—but real.

And maybe, just maybe, the silence between you and Kento wasn’t so quiet anymore.

The sun was setting behind the temple roofs, casting Kyoto in that rare kind of golden hour that made even concrete feel sacred. You stood at the edge of the rooftop, arms crossed, the wind teasing at your sleeves. The city below murmured quietly, a world still moving while yours paused, just for this.

You heard the soft tap of heels before you saw her out of your peripheral.

"Everyone always seems to like the view from up here," Mei Mei said, stepping into the light like she belonged to it. "Something about feeling above it all, wasn't it?"

You didn’t turn to her. Not yet.

"It’s quiet," you said. "Helps me think."

"Ah, dangerous habit, thinking."

She came to stand beside you, not too close, but close enough that her perfume lingered. Cool jasmine, silk, and sharp steel underneath.

Silence stretched between you, taut with memory.

Then she spoke again, her tone smooth but deliberate.

"I suppose this is the part where I say something like... 'I'm sorry if my actions caused you discomfort.'"

You finally looked at her, expression unreadable.

"Discomfort?" you repeated, tone flat.

Her mouth quirked, faintly amused by your directness.

“Fine. I’ll drop the formality." She shifted her weight, folding her arms. "What I did wasn’t exactly tactful. I was a support system to your husband when he should’ve been leaning on you—or, better yet, learning how to stand on his own."

You said nothing, letting the words land.

"It wasn’t physical," she added, tone light but honest. "But it was emotional. And I knew what I was doing. I just told myself I was helping."

You looked out at the city again. "Helping who?"

A pause.

"Him. Maybe myself."

"Not me."

"No. Not you."

The wind moved between you again. She didn’t flinch from the weight of your silence.

"As his long term friend and support, you let him fall into your space when he was trying to run from mine."

"I didn’t pull him," she said. "But I didn’t push him back either."

Another long moment. She watched your profile—calm, but lit with something fierce behind the eyes.

"I didn’t think you’d forgive me," she said after a moment, softer than usual.

"I’m not here to forgive you."

You turned to face her fully now, steady and still.

"But I needed to hear you say it. That you knew. That you saw what you were doing. That it wasn’t just… 'circumstance' or 'professional closeness' or whatever excuse would’ve made it easier."

Mei Mei held your gaze.

"I did. I do."

A breath passed between you.

You nodded, once.

"I’m not your enemy," she said, and for once, there was no lilt of performance in her voice.

"Maybe not," you replied. "But you’re not a lifeline either."

That landed. And Mei Mei didn’t argue it. She instead smiled, coming to stand next to you, facing the landscape of the city.

She inclined her head slightly, in a gesture that might have been respect. Might have even been peace.

"You’re stronger than him, you know."

"That’s why I waited."

A flicker of something moved across her face—admiration, maybe. Or regret. She didn’t say.

Instead, she turned slightly, hair catching the wind.

"Whatever happens," she said, "know that my respect for you comes with one favor. Cash in on it when it’s dire. My name holds weight you know."

"I’ll keep that in mind."

And then, with her usual fluid grace, she moved toward the stairwell, heels tapping once, twice, and then fading.

You stood there alone again, the air cooler now, the weight in your chest a little lighter.

No illusions. No apologies left to wait for.

Just your own path forward.

_______________

You didn’t leave in a rush.

The day had come to as best of an end that it could: Gakuganji coming back just to retire, Kusakabe took the role of Principal which took everyone, including him, by surprise. He immediately went to asking Utahime what he should do for the Kyoto branch.

You filed your final report at Tokyo High with careful precision, left your office cleaner than you’d found it, and gave Yaga the respect of a quiet thank-you while Gojo gave you all the fanfare that was to be expected.

Utahime embraced you tighter than expected when you said your goodbyes.

"You’re not running,” She spoke fiercely, as if preparing you for a war that only you could win.“You’re choosing." "Exactly."

The house you’d once shared with Nanami sold quickly. You left behind the kitchen he had loved—always spotless, always organized—and the garden you had struggled to keep alive, the empty bed that had held more silence than sleep in the last year.

Each room was stripped of memory with quiet reverence, like a body prepared for burial. You didn’t cry. You didn’t even feel relief. Just… stillness. A readiness.

You took only what mattered: your weapons, your clothes, your grandmother’s tea set, the books on your family lineage and the crystal Nanami hadn’t asked for back. All other furnishings were left behind and part of your home being sold.

When the contract finalized and the keys were handed over, you walked away not as a teacher, not as a wife—just as a sorcerer, self-bound and unmoored. That felt honest.

And then: Denmark. To see your mother in law before going back to your clan.

The right decision.

  When you stepped off the plane in Denmark, the cold was bracing. Familiar, in a strange way. Like a place you'd once been happy in and was happy to feel that way again.

Kento's mother met you just outside the terminal, her coat buttoned, a bright scarf wrapped around her neck in a loose, artful knot.

"You look like you haven’t slept," she said immediately, disapproving. "You look perfect as always."

She waved away the compliment with a warm smile and pulled you into a hug before you could dodge it.

"How’s your Danish? Improved?" she asked, as she attempted to take your bag, placing her hand on her hip as you beat her to putting it in the trunk of her SUV. "Still atrocious." “Perfektionere. velkommen tilbage, dejlige"

she kissed your cheek as if a mother was welcoming back her child and got in the drivers seat, watching you buckle up and slowly peeling off onto the rainy road ahead.

The drive to her home was quiet, blanketed in a northern hush. She made light chatter—updates about her garden, her neighbors, the recent snowstorm that nearly collapsed her greenhouse. But she didn’t mention him. Not once.

That, more than anything, told you something was coming.

As the car pulled into the familiar gravel drive, you saw it: the house just as you remembered it. Two story family home, dusty salmon-painted brick with ivy curled stubbornly around the lower windows. The air was crisp, the light pale and slanting through bare trees.

And there he was. Sitting on the porch steps waiting for you.

Hands loosely clasped, elbows on knees, hair just a little longer than before falling long enough to be tucked behind his ear.

No suit. Just a soft wool sweater, dark slacks, and the quiet kind of stillness only he could wear without looking uncertain.

Your heart didn’t race. It settled.

Kento looked up the moment the car came to a stop.

He didn’t smile. But his eyes said enough.

You stepped out slowly, the cold biting gently at your cheeks, your breath visible in the air, instinctively taking a deep breath to take in the fragrant scent of the salty sea that was only a 10 minute walk away.

His mother didn’t rush. She lifted your bag from the trunk, with the smile of a Cheshire cat, with all the time in the world and muttered something about needing to check the tea.

And just like that, she disappeared inside leaving the two of you on the doorstep to do literally anything.

You didn’t speak. Not yet.

You took him in, this man who had once walked away not out of malice—but out of not knowing how to stay.

Now, he stood. Not rushed. Not dramatic. He just rose to meet you.

"It’s good to see you," he said quietly.

You nodded, hands tucked into your coat pockets.

"Your mother wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Something about a greenhouse tragedy and needing a second set of hands."

A breath of a laugh escaped him—real, low, warm.

"She does know how to manipulate timing."

"She learned from the best."

The silence between you now was familiar, but different. Not icy. Just full. Full of things unspoken, but not unacknowledged.

"I’ve been here," he said. "Trying to build something again. I thought maybe you'd like to see what I made."

Your brows lifted slightly. "You’ve been fixing things again?"

He nodded. "This time, starting with myself."

The wind carried the faintest scent of lemongrass from the porch. You noticed, but didn’t comment. You just stepped closer.

Not into his arms. Just into his orbit.

"You know," you said softly, "if this is about a conversation… I didn’t bring a speech."

He met your gaze, steady, open.

"No speeches," he said. "Not anymore."

And for the first time in a long while, you let yourself believe there might be a future that wasn’t defined by the space between what was lost—and what remained.

“After dinner, I’d like to see what you’ve been working on.”

He led you into the familiar house, nodding as he held the door open. “I was hoping you’ d say that.”

__

The stars had come out in quiet defiance of the cold, pinpricks of light scattered above the sleepy Danish town. You walked beside him in the dark, the gravel crunching softly beneath your boots, the path winding away from his mother’s home and into the quieter stretch of road that was bordered with trees and lights that slowly flickered on as you walked.

"It’s not far," Kento had said. "Just a little up this way."

You didn’t ask where. You just followed.

He kept his hands in his coat pockets, shoulders squared, but his pace was slower than usual—like he didn’t want to get there too quickly. Like the walk itself was part of what needed to be said.

Then, the sight of a fish shaped mailbox made the route feel familiar in a way that made your chest ache.

And then you saw it.

The modest, two-story home with a worn stone path leading up to the front door sitting on your left. The shutters had been repaired. The siding scrubbed clean. Roof completely repaired. Warm yellow light spilled from inside, like someone had reached into the past and coaxed it back to life.

You stopped, staring for a moment.

"This is your grandfather’s house," you stated quietly.

Nanami nodded beside you. "It was nearly condemned when I got here. They’d been trying to get me and mother to sell it since he passed away.”

"But you’d never."

"No," he murmured. "Not this place."

He moved forward and opened the gate with a quiet click, holding it for you.

You stepped onto the property, feeling the past rustle under your feet. The first time you’d met his grandfather and mother. The instant feeling of family you received when they welcomed you with open arms.

It was fall of 2016 all over again.

Inside, the house was quiet, warm. The renovations weren’t flashy—everything was deliberate, chosen with care, keeping with traditional architecture. It was him. Wood floors that creaked gently with age, muted colors on the walls, framed black-and-white photographs—his family. His childhood. Pieces of his life you had only seen glimpses of and heard stories of now laid bare in quiet tribute.

He didn’t say much as he led you through the space. The living room being the calm respite you loved, full of signs of life. The kitchen large enough for the both of you with all his appliances neatly shelved. The small garden he'd cleared out in the back with a small, well lit pond in its center and the guest house tucked in the far right corner of the lot.

A study. Two bedrooms. It was a sanctuary. His sanctuary.

Finally, you made it back to the front room again. You stood in the center, and when you turned back toward him, he was already watching you.

No mask. No distance.

Just Kento.

"I’ve been rebuilding this house since I got here," he said softly, "while trying to figure out if I was even worthy of inviting you back into something again."

You didn’t interrupt. He wasn’t finished.

"I kept thinking that maybe if I fixed the structure, the foundation, the rooms… maybe I'd figure out how to fix myself, too. How to become the man I was supposed to be for you."

His eyes held yours, steady, open, but uncertain. That alone said more than anything else.

"Didn’t want something new. I wanted something worth saving."

He looked at you with a quiet calmness. Not tense. Not uncertain. Just… open.

"I didn’t want to bring you here until I knew what I wanted," he said. "I thought leaving would give me clarity. But clarity didn’t come from being apart from you. It came from realizing… I wanted to choose with you."

He took a step closer, his voice low, steady.

"I don’t want to go back to what we were. That version of us… it was good, until it wasn’t. It was built inside routines, roles, shared silences we didn’t know how to break."

Another breath.

"This is me asking you not to return, but to begin. Here. In this house. On our terms."

You stood motionless, heart tight in your chest.

"I’m not here to pretend everything will be perfect. I don’t want to erase what happened. We tried to fix what was broken before without asking what we actually needed. Counseling helped, but it didn’t fix us. Time helped, but it also scared me. I didn’t know how to come back to you without asking for more than I deserve."

He paused, voice low.

"So I rebuilt this place for us."

You blinked.

"Kento, this is so much. You did this for us?"

He stepped closer, something raw glinting in his voice now.

"It’s for us. Not because I expect you to say yes. Not because I think I’ve earned anything. But because I want to start from where we are now—not from where we were. I want us to write something new. No traditions. No expectations. Just… truth."

Then—he reached into his coat pocket.

And withdrew a small, green velvet box. Weathered. Not new. You recognized it.

The original ring.

When he opened it, the band was different. Not flashy, but altered. Refined. The same stone, but a setting that felt… evolved.

Kento lowered himself to both knees—not with drama, but with quiet purpose. His eyes never left yours.

"I don’t want to pick up where we left off. I want to ask you to marry me again. To renew what we lost—not because we have to, but because we choose to. And because this time, I know what I’m promising."

The silence around you wasn’t hollow. It was sacred.

"Live here with me. Let’s build what we couldn’t before. No facades. No pretending. Just you and me, and what we decide to become. A vow made now for who we are, not who we were."

His voice was steady. But you saw the flicker in his hands—the tension in his breath. This wasn’t a man trying to reclaim a past. This was a man offering you a future.

Your answer would define everything that came next.

EPILOGUE

[bardofavon]

Sorry for the long text ahead !

At the beginning of January, I finally started my definitive reread of A Good Myth Is Hard to Kill, which also meant, for the first time, reading the ending (the last 100 pages or so).

I had been postponing it for so long, waiting for the right moment, wanting to give it the attention and space it deserved. In the end, I decided it would be the first book I read this year. I spent hours formatting it into a proper book-style document so I could upload it to my reading app, to highlight passages, and annotate freely. By the time I was done, it came out to exactly 1,000 pages.

It’s strange to think about who I was when I first started this fic in 2021 and who I am now, reaching its conclusion. I am not the same person, and yet, in so many ways, this story has been a constant—a touchstone, something I kept returning to, something that has shaped me in ways I couldn’t have anticipated.

When I finally reached the end, finished reading—completely by coincidence—in the early hours of Valentine’s Day, I had made 235 annotations and highlights. Some of them are just a single word, scrawled out in a desperate attempt to capture the moment. Some are paragraphs, as if I could hold onto a feeling by dissecting it. Some are just exclamation points or keyboard smashes. I don’t think I’ve ever needed to react to something so much. After following this work since 2021, it was almost surreal to finally arrive at its conclusion.

I hesitated before writing this because no words could ever fully capture what this story has meant to me. I remember so vividly the thrill of waiting for updates, the way I completely lost my mind when I first read Chapter 20—barely minutes after it had been uploaded. So many moments from my previous readings remained etched in my memory, and yet, this time, everything felt different. I laughed, I chuckled, I cried—not just from sadness but from sheer distress. I genuinely don’t think I had ever cried out of stress because of a book before. Probably the most I’ve ever felt while reading anything, honestly.

I read it, kind of, alongside with a friend—someone who had known about this fic for a long time because I’ve talked about it to literally anyone who matters. Reading it with her meant sending live reading reactions, screenshots of paragraphs or even entire pages, voice messages of me losing my mind at varying levels of intensity. Without her, my number of annotations would have been soooo much higher. It was incredible to have someone to share this with. She quite literally knows A Good Myth inside and out because of me without having ever actually opened the fanfic on AO3. We talk about A Good Myth Is Hard to Kill Kaz more than we talk about canon Kaz—we even call him A Good Myth Kaz, as if it’s his actual name. We reference the fic so often that we’ve shortened it to just A Good Myth. Somehow, she ended up joining me in this experience despite being a very firm Darkling hater (who we, infamously, only ever referred to as “the man”—or, in Spanish, el sujeto—throughout the entire reading).

But my point is this: this fic means so much to me that I had to share it with someone—otherwise, I think I would have exploded. I’m usually more reserved about the things I love, especially for fear of coming on too strong, but at this point, I genuinely don’t care. I am unapologetically obsessed with A Good Myth Is Hard to Kill. It truly—and I say this with no exaggeration—changed my life in ways I don’t even know how to put into words.

Kaz Brekker from A Good Myth means more to me than I can possibly express. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so attached or seen by a character before. This fic helped me understand so much about myself, forced me to confront things I hadn’t before. I feel like I owe your Kaz so much, and by extension, I owe you so much.

I don’t think I’ll ever find the right words to express just how grateful I am for having found this fic. I genuinely can’t imagine what my life would have been like without it. I think about it every single day—and that is not an exaggeration. It is, without a doubt, one of the most impactful things I have ever read. I will never forget it.

You are a brilliant writer.

Thank you for, quite literally, changing my life.

I know I’m a writer but I feel like even if I tried all morning I wouldn’t be able to perfectly encapsulate how this makes me feel or what it means to me. From the bottom of my heart, thank you. 

People always say “oh write for yourself write for yourself” and I do— to a certain extent, but do think most writers really dream of being able to have any sort of impact with the things that they want. 

Some mornings it’s harder to get up than others, especially when the weather gets cold, so thank you for reminding me this morning that I have a purpose and the things I do matter. Thank you for loving this story like I love it, for sharing it with others, and for sharing with ME how it made you feel. 

Also, if you ever WERE inclined to share those annotations I’d sell my kidney to see them. But no pressure though 😂 

[waywardsalt]

i think elden ring will always be my favorite game in terms of environment. every area is so impressive, even the copy-paste stuff manages to be impressive with atmosphere, and the amount of just. stunning-looking locations is wild especially with how natural even the most amazing looking shot you can find is.

just the fact that you unavoidably see this when you walk into leyndell is incredible. one of my favorite environment views in all of the games ive ever played

[ourladyoftheflytrap]

Mom called me a shitty roommate today bc after months of her telling me to rent a uhaul (too young to do so) and then flaking out on me whenever I asked her if we could it on x day, I gave up on trying to get my bf's heavy TV and dresser and ordered a mountable tv, instead of buying more storage totes so that I could add to the ever increasing stack of totes in our guest bedroom

[ru5t]

do you ever... feel compelled to write something in script format?

[alwayshappyhoursomewhere]

Cup of China 2023 - Adam Siao Him Fa and Shoma Uno during the men’s victory ceremony

[gaycousinlarry]

.

[sodafrog13]

the way i experience attraction is so. difficult to get people to understand, i think

[daughterofsarenrae]

i need more art. for my walls

[tonycries]

THIS P*SSY DEPRESSED!

Synopsis. Don’t worry, he knows exactly the solution when you’re upset - fúck it out of you, of course!

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, creampíes, FÉRAL GOJO, cheering you up, oraI (fem receiving), breéding, MAJOR overstím, PRAISE, THEY’RE SO DOWN BAD, lowkey sweet, slight exhíbitionism (Toji’s), mean Geto, síxty-nine, chokíng, making Choso cry mhm, spítting, pússy-slappíng, cúmplay, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.9k

A/N. You’re loved n’ I hope y’all have a good leak day <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Noise complaint(s)

Any time Toji decided to visit you in your cute lil’ apartment, so did a few complaints from your neighbors. 

It wasn’t because of his intimidating presence, or those deadly glares of his - targeted at everyone but you, or even because of the way his large frame unapologetically blocked every doorway in your building.

No, they were noise complaints. 

“So that’s what’s got my girl so mm- upset?” Toji has the audacity to chuckle - chuckle - so raggedly at that syrupy pout of yours he’s kissing away. “Usually you and this sweet pussy-” He cups a palm at your glistening cunt, smearing your sweet, sweet juices in a glossy sheen down his wrist. “-are so happy to see me, n’ now you want to keep her quiet? All because some blue-balled loser just moved in next door and got jealous overhearing your pretty moans?”

At your nervous nod, he clicks his tongue gruffly, “Makin’ you all upset like this, tch-” Leaning down to whisper, until his sharp canines graze dangerously against your earlobe, “He’s about to find out that he hasn’t heard even half of it.”

“But Toji!” you’re squealing, fingers scrambling to clamp your already-deliriously sagging mouth shut. “I told you- we have to mmpf- be quiet. He seemed so grumpy, and-”

You’re being cut off with Toji nudging the divot of his fat head against your g-spot, until all those complaints are lodged in your quivering chest by a moan. Teasing, “Talking ‘bout another man when m’trynna make you feel better, doll? Bold today, aren’t ya?”

“N-no I was jus-” Barely-audible babbles drag out of you at the heavenly stretch of your pussy lips. Toji’s muscled chest heaves up and down at the way your pussy lips addictively swallow up his leaky cock, slobbering down, down, down his length till it glistened in the dim lighting. Your legs kicking up in the air when he insistently feeds your cunt inch by greedy inch. 

Again. And again and again and so needy. Depraved. 

But it still wasn’t enough for him.

“Aww, come on, woman.” He’s rolling his eyes, that tiny scar curling up in a devilish grin when he pries away the hand on your mouth. “Why’re you lyin’ to yourself like this? I know you wanna heh- scream my name as much as this cute cunt of yours is right now. Do it.”

As if to confirm his point, Toji’s pushing apart your puffy folds to let your gaping pussy squelch! even louder at each of his bullying thrusts. Tight ring of muscle taking each and every smack of his sharp hip bones so well, the riotous creaking of your bed following shortly, headboard just slamming into your poor wall despite being bolted onto it.

It was already so loud. 

“I don’t hngh-” you let out a feverish gasp when each roll of his hypnotic cadence gets too much. “I don’t wanna give off a b-bad impression…I just want the neighbors to like me.”

Heart clenching in his chest at how cute you are, how sorry your voice sounds, he finds his irritation flaring once again at whoever this bastard was that had you doubting yourself this way.

“Doll– they’d be fuckin’ stupid not to. And I’d beat their asses, too.” Two soft pads of his fingers come to smush your cheeks together, forcing you to stare up into his darkened emerald eyes. “But my poor baby’s still ngh- upset, no?” When you’re hesitant with your answer, they slide down to your neck - just barely putting a bit of leering pressure, “Answer me while m’still being nice, doll.”

It’s all you can do to choke out a shrill, “Yes.” He can feel your walls clenching around every ridge and prominent vein down his shaft so tight with every sultry, mewled-out word. “H-he was really sweet! But it made me- a bit- jus’ a bit.”

“See?” And Toji sounds so smug, predatory tone bleeding into the way his harsh rams pick up to an obscene speed. A thumb of his dips down to swivel over your neglected clit, wrenching out those candied moans he loves so much. “Nothin’ wrong with makin’ my girl feel better after a shitty experience. N’ if anyone has anything to s-say, they can come complain to hngh- me.”

“B-but-”

“Ah ah-” Toji kisses sloppily at your lips trying to press together and quieten, sucking on your lower lip. “What did I say just now? Loud, pretty girl.” 

And it’s like a dam breaks open right then and there, you’re arching your body off the bed like such a slut to press your bare tits against Toji’s pecs. Sensitive. Faster. “Toji- oh fuck, m’so-”

“Heh, louder. I don’t hear you losing your beautiful voice yet.”

Keening, “M’so close. Fuck- g-gonna cum all over your cock.”

He’s cupping his ear so mockingly, hips still stuttering and thrusting forwards without a moments’ faltering. “Still can’t hear you, m-ah not gonna let you cum if you’re not loud enough, y’know.”

You were sure your sinful noises were traveling through the heavy, plastered wall now. Picking up in pitch and speed with every double-attack on your sweet spots everywhere. Spearing the lewd curve of his dick into you, he’s fucking you into the mattress so mean - meaner that usual. Rugged muscles of his toned waist flexing when he jostles and thrusts unforgivingly. Your voice is hoarse at this point, “Fuck- fuck fuck fuck Toji m’cumming. I’m-”

Every other loud moan is drowned out by the ringing in your ears, Toji’s own soft rasps filtering through the white-hot pleasure running down your spine. 

He’s fucking you through wave after wave of high, gifting your bruised g-spot with a thorough, sly pistons of his still-swollen cock. Something that didn’t bode well for you, you already knew. 

“Tha’s it. Yeahh, that’s it-” A hand cups the back of your head gently, even though his slamming staccato was anything but. “Loud. Jus’ like that- shit, gonna make him jealous. Have him regret makin’ my girl upset, fuck-” An irritated banging sounds from the other side of the wall right above your headboard - your neighbor. “Fuck, just watch I’ll give him a real show.” Still throwing jagged hips your way, ram after ram. “What’s the fucker’s name again?”

“He- he said his name was Shiu.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Sweet, sweet treat

“I can fix it.” your husband eyed that droopy bowl of frosting and back to your candied, icing-glossed pout. He can’t help but plant a sweet, sweltering kiss on them, just groaning out, “We can do it together.” Barely managing to break away and breathe out, “S’gonna- turn out- perfect, my love.”

Which is how you find yourself splayed out so shamefully on the cool granite countertops of your kitchen, your soft cotton dress only pulled lazily to the side. Nanami’s knees seated firmly on the hardwood floors, face tucked in between the heavenly sweet folds of your already soaked cunt. 

“Oh- oh fuck, Ken–” he makes you let out a honeyed drawl with every drag of his hot tongue up and down your soppingly wet slit. “Y-you’re gonna get the- ngh- counter dirty!”

So what? He thinks, and it only takes a flicker of surprise in your half-lidded eyes for him to realize he accidentally said that out loud. Not used to those uncharacteristically brash sentences, but Nanami was so drunk off your addictive juices right now. 

Tipping his head back, back, back to let them make their slow, sultry journey down his throat. He’s slurring out proudly, “I’ll clean the mess after I cheer up my upset lil’ wife, okay?”

With this, he’s spitting on your quivering cunt. Adding to the glistening gloss that traveled down your folds - and Nanami couldn’t help himself but kiss at the mess he’s made. Over and over and-

“F-fuuuck, jus’ like that-” You’re keening when he’s alternating between hollowing his cheeks out with methodical, never-ending sucks on your sensitive clit and just peeking inside your needy hole with his tongue. “You’re too good with your hngh! -tongue, Ken–”

It’s impossible to run away - and he knew that, too. Every little inch you backed on the counter had him just dragging you back twice as much. Hot tongue clashing and angry to part your swollen pussy lips. 

You can only thread your fingers through his neat blond hair even tighter when he surges back forward. Pussydrunk. Groaning at the lewd smack of his tongue dipping in and out of your puffy folds, Thumb circling around your throbbing clit, “And you’re too sweet, darling. Even sweeter than-” He pools your slick on two thick fingers of his, coating a glossy sheen of obscenity all the way from his rounded tips to the gold wedding ring glinting in the dim light. Before popping them in his mouth to take such long, cleansing drags without even a shred of abashed hesitation, “-that icing of yours.”

“I know–” you’re babbling in disappointment, the full force of your failed attempts at baking something special earlier this evening hitting you once again at full force. “Ugh, what a waste. I can’t even-”

A syrupy beat passes. One. Two. 

And at that very moment, you’re feeling the maddening stretching of your gummy walls being forced to their very limits. Whirling your dazed gaze down to spot that Nanami was now standing, belt unbuckled, tugged down just enough that you were reeling from the pressure of his fat head just barely kissing past your fluttering hole. 

“That’s my wife you’re talkin’ about.” he growls, low and satiny. Hands steadying on the two sides of your trembling thighs, his grunts catch in his throat when he thoroughly sinks his swollen length in. Never-ending, dizzying. A quick frosting-coated glide of Nanami’s fingers on your lips, and he’s pressing another lingering kiss on your slack mouth. Tasting you and the sweet icing and you, “And I don’t let anyone talk about her that way, my love.”

Now, usually, Nanami was a man of patience - liking to prepare and play around with your pretty pussy as if you were his favorite toy. Molding your plush walls like clay to take his massive cock.

But now, oh now Nanami Kento was anything but patient. Shit, he didn’t even know if your snug walls could take him right now. 

Hands curling up into painful fists far away from the curve of your hips, as if he was trying to stop himself from just grabbing your quivering body and just slamming himself inside you until he reached your lungs, your heart, that stupid brain of yours that loved to overthink.

“Don’t you ever fuckin’ say anything bad about my wife. You’re perfect.” he breathes, greedy hazel eyes looking like they could devour you whole. “The frosting is perfect, the anniversary cake is perfect, your smile, your mind, you-” You’re being attacked by a flurry of kisses being gifted on every inch of your face that could be reached, “You you you- I love you.”

If you were in the right state of mind, you’d have responded back in a heartbeat. But right now, he’s not waiting a split-second longer before bullying the rest of his swollen, filthy cock in. Solid inches being shoved inside to force your walls to accommodate, stretching out so maddeningly across every divot and upwards curve down his shaft.

In and out in and out in and-

Your nails tear across his favorite blue button-up, down his muscled shoulders, down to that speckled yellow tie you’d gotten him a few years ago. 

“You’re so- hngh-” you squeal, tugging Nanami closer by his tie. Making him bully past your narrow opening even deeper, slick walls squeezing so tight at how his weepy red tip presses right on top of your g-spot. 

He chuckles, it’s so endearing how you’re already too cockdrunk to speak. One engulfing hand on your shoulder is all it takes for you to be sprawled back on the cool counter. Nanami’s pummeling cock bullying so deep inside your hot core it’s the only thing you can think about - nothing but him. 

“How about, after-” Another dredge of sweet sweet frosting is dabbed along your lips, your heated skin. All for Nanami to lick sultrily, “-we’ll make the cake together, hm?”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - “Just use me, baby.”

Those shallow, sultry words are falling from Choso’s rosy lips before he even realizes it - ringing like sheer melodies over the heady smacking of skin-on-skin where he’s bullying his fat cock into you. 

After a few seconds of his sloppy, stuttering rams sending the gooey puddle of cum and slick spreading further and further on the sticky, silken sheets below you - the words finally register. 

“Use you, baby?” you purr, batting your lashes in a way that has him gulping. Feeling his aching shaft twitch against your gummy walls, swollen balls squeezing so so angrily with how much seed he’d been gushing out tonight. “You want me to use you?”

Each thrust of his is lingering, rolling forwards to push you further and further up that pooling mess. He can’t think, he can’t even breathe. And it takes everything in Choso to groan out, “Yes yes- fuck, please.” You’re feeling him place a trail of wet kisses up to the nape of your neck, big tears clinging to his dark lashes, “If my- hngh- if my girl is upset, I want her to use me. Ruin me till she forgets all about it.”

It only takes a split-second for you to immediately flip around your positions, pinning a whiny, pliant Choso so harshly down onto the plush mattress. 

“Hngh- oh, baby—” He bounces slightly at the sheer force. Dewy eyes rolling to the back of his head at the slobbering sheen of cum dripping down his long, long length. Bucking up his quivering hips till you’re speared all the way down on his cock, clit hitting the tufts of black at his thick hilt. “Fuuuck—.” He’s groaning raggedly, like a mantra, two big arms tugging your body stuck to his sculpted front. Nodding half-lucidly, “Yeah- yeah just like that. Whatever you want with me.”

Your pace was unforgiving - barely even giving him a moment to spew out those pussydrunk promises before rocking your hips up and down up and-

“Use you, huh?” you echo back his own words, the sheer need dripping in them having Choso bow his body upwards to pummel into you in a matching feverish pace. You’re humming, thinking back to those stupid pick-up lines the creepy new manager at work had snided just today. It was harmless, but oh how Choso would kill him if he knew. “Well then, don’t mind if I do.”

With a pained keen, he’s surging upwards onto his elbows, craning his head to mesh your honeyed lips with his. “Mmm- mpfh yeah, exactly like this.” Mixing out such throaty groans with your gasps, so desperate to please you with the way he plants two feet on the bed, thrusting up hazily to find your sweet spots, “S’this any better? How do you- ngh how do you feel, baby?”

You’re letting out a drunken giggle with how he’s the one asking - when really it should be you. Because your sweet boyfriend looked so ruined, eyes wrecked with tears. Milky skin a canvas for possessive red marks from your nails. Kiss-bitten lips spit-glossed and permanently parted in ecstasy, only slacking further every time your snug channel dragged down him. 

“Much better, forgot about m’day already.” you’re hissing into his open mouth. “So fuckin’ gorgeous n’ mine, that bastard doesn’t know what the fuck he’s ah- talking about.”

Choso had no idea what you were talking about - though, he thinks his mind is too much of a hot, gooey mess to understand right now. Still so needy to please. Only being able to babble out a stupid, “Yours- fuck m’yours.”

And despite being the one setting the tempo, you can only let out such whiny groans at the sheer stretch Choso’s swollen cock is causing you. By the way he’s molding your gummy walls to each and every throbbing vein decorating down him.

“Sh-shit m’so close, baby.” he whines, a fresh wave of tears streaming down with each overstimulating smack! of his tight, overworked balls against the curve of your ass. Lazily, like he’s moving through molasses, Choso’s drawing messy patterns on your pulsing clit - not even circles, brain too fried to. “M’so close fuck- I need you to- I need-”

“Shhh shhh.” you coo, running a hand through his dark strands, damp with sweat. “Cum f’me, Cho~”

“Hngh!” He can’t stop his hips from bucking up ferally, crying out, “But- I can’t. Wan’ you to feel better. Need you to cum f’me. Use me-”

“Cho.”

“Please-”

“Choso.” you warn, narrowing your eyes, deciding to tease him a little with shallow, repetitive grinds of your hips up and down. Toes curling at the friction of his creamy seed sloshing around inside. “Cum.”

“Hngh- but-” he’s thrashing upwards, so addicted to the rough collision of your sensitive spots against his fat head. Pulling out such fucked-out moans from you already, “But m’spposed to be making you feel happy-”

Your fingers deftly find themselves on Choso’s temping throat, right above his racing pulse. You tighten your nails just enough to leave five matching crescents to match the rest of his marked-up body.

“Cho–” you puff in a sultry groan against his ear. “All I want is for you to fill me up right now.”

And then he’s spilling into you in thick, hot dredge after dredge of his potent seed - before you’ve even finished your sentence. It overfills your pre-painted cunt, that obscene white slopping out of your slit and onto where your hips rocked against your boyfriend’s even harder. A creamy white ring forming mouthwateringly. Relentlessly. 

“See?” Choso couldn’t - vision blurry, ears stuffed with cotton. “I don’t care what any sleazy manager has to say, you’re perfect for me.” A gentle kiss is placed on his pouty, worried lips and shit you still didn’t show any signs of slowing down, overstimulating him to tears. You trace his furious marks, “N’ pick me up from work tomorrow in your skimpiest muscle tee~”

♡ GETO SUGURU - Overtime?

A lewd smack! is all that’s ringing in your ears right now, so loud over the distant hum of the photocopier. Accompanied shortly by Geto’s sing-song rasp of, “Heh, missin’ our reservation for this- Are you the one havin’ a bad day or am I?”

Before you can answer, you’re being gifted with another mean kiss of your boyfriend’s palm against your bulging pussy. Smack! Lingering on the nudge of where he could feel your sloppy hole mending around his girthy shaft, before dancing upwards to grip your hair in a sultry hold. 

Pulling your entire weight up, up, up like he didn’t care about the way he was treating you like some ragdoll right now. Up to drag his lips towards your ear, “Doesn’t matter, because m’still fuckin’ you just the same.”

“S-Sugu–” your breaths crack with need when he’s pushing in a harsh thrust to slam back into the very bottom of your poor pussy. Eyes darting to the tiny window of your office photocopy room, “Sugu, we’re going to get caught.”

“And yet, she’s still hah- sucking me up as sluttily as ever.” he grins, tilting his head back to get those long, inky strands out of his face. He chuckles at the obscene sight of your cunt stretched to her limits, struggling, and drooling a sweet, sweet gloss down his length. “What’s with the ngh- attitude now? You said you wanted to feel better about working overtime so here we are.”

You bite down on your lower lip to hold back your moans when his fat tip draws a solid, straight line across your bruised cervix. Slamming forwards to have you scrambling forwards into some more important paperwork you really should be looking over right now. 

“I did but-”

“Problem solved then.” Geto lets out a low whistle, sounding so utterly smug when he pulls your hips deeper into his. “Now let me make this shitty workload hah- so much better for you, gorgeous.”

Honestly, when you told your dear boyfriend that you’d have to cancel tonight’s date because of a sudden deadline for tomorrow, you felt guilty. Working after everyone else had left, spewing out upset little apologies until he told you he’d come over to the office to “help you take your mind off of things.”

You just didn’t expect it’d end up like this. 

Smack!

Geto scoffs, “Aww documents have you zoning out on me again, pretty girl? Take a break, didn’t I tell ya you don’t have to worry about work and all those stupid things when you’re with me?”

Your knees weaken involuntarily when his gruff question is followed by such an unapologetic crash into your ravaged g-spot. Thankfully being held up by one of Geto’s strong arms to fuck yourself back all the way from his red, weepy tip to that see-through ring dredged up on his thick base. Somehow, you’re managing to gasp out, “N-no, I was just…”

“N-n-no, you were just zoning out, that’s what.” he’s mocking your answer in an overly-dramatic higher pitch, adding a few extra moans you were spilling with every harsh slam after slam of his hips. “What did I tell you now, relax. Let me fuck this shitty overtime and that shitty boss outta ya cute lil’ head, gorgeous. You and her-” His red-rimmed eyes, drunk on the feeling of your slicked walls enveloping him, lock on the sight of his curved dick disappearing so easily in and out of you. “-don’t have to worry about a thing right now.”

It was that same little promise - the one he’d whispered over and over into your sagging open mouth when he’d first ambushed you in the photocopy room. Bending you over the nearest flat surface before ramming into you all those thick, greedy inches of his long-needy cock.

And here he still was. 

Splatters of your syrupy slick coats his toned pelvis with every jagged thrust, fucking you so deep - so disrespectfully - into the office desk. Your feet don’t even touch the ground now, mind spinning and syrupy. Geto’s bending his own to angle up exactly to hit the bullseye of your sweet spots. All those familiarly mapped-out areas to drive anything and everything out of your mind but him and the temptation for more more more-

Click!

Both of you are raising your heads in sync at the distinct clamor of an opening door somewhere in the office - shit, was someone doing patrols at this time?

Your jaw drops open in shock - and the feeling of your boyfriend sliding two slender fingers to your pulsing clit. Drawing rough, skimming circles on the bundle of nerves. He has you jolting and arching your back right into him, his arms - exactly where he loved to have you. 

“Now we’re-” your words come in strangled little stutters, mindlessly bouncing your ass back onto his cock. Feeling the sinful tremors run down your spine with each slam, “-we’re really gonna get hah- caught. And I’m not even halfway through my project yet.”

And Geto - that smug bastard - sounds amused. He thinks he’ll have a ah- talk with your boss later about piling on workloads later. But for now, he sounds so fucking content when he’s musing, “Better cum fast before they give you more than overtime, pretty girl.” Before planting a deceivingly chaste peck on your lips, “Though, I wouldn’t say ‘no’ to havin’ a cute lil’ housewife to spoil all day either.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - QUIET TIME!

“Oh, Kuna–”

“Now that’s music to my ears.” Sukuna smirks darkly, lips searing in a trail right down your arched spine. Two inhumanly large hands massage down your back, pulling you against his sculpted front. “So much better to hear you say m’name than complain about some fuckin’ eugh-” His tone trembles in distaste, “-office drama.”

Scoffing, “No need to be so mean, Kuna. You really should’ve heard what Mrs. Smith down at-”

That little tangent earns you a sharp smack! to the fat of your bare ass, cupping the little tremors with a chuckle. He hums with a mocking lilt in his baritone voice, “You’re testing my patience~” Sukuna goes back to kneading at the stressed knots in your body. “Shut up and let me massage you, woman.”

And oh you should’ve learned your lesson - should’ve taken this rare, sweet little moment you’d gotten from your rough boyfriend. Should’ve done anything other than huff out, “Ugh, if only you’d heard what she said, ruined my whole-”

“Lift your hips.”

Your eyes widen at the sudden interruption, “Wh-what?”

“Lift your hips goddammit.”

It’s all you can do to mindlessly head his gruffed out words, legs stuttering and shaky when you get up on all fours. A gasp rips from your throat when Sukuna shuffles into the gap between your pliant body and the silken bedsheets. Not stopping until his hot breath was puffing against your sopping slit, your eyes mere inches away from his massive erection. Throbbing thickly and outlined with precum through his boxers. 

Your mouth waters, “K-Kuna what-”

“So it really takes this to get me back on your mind, huh, brat?” he’s cutting you off with another branding smack on your ass - this time, the very rounded tips of his thick fingers just grazing against your dripping folds. “Couldn’t stop talkin’ about some fuckin’ Mrs. Smith even when I’m right here.”

“Are you jealous?” you muse, brows turning upwards in confusion. “Because I can assure you-”

Before you can run your mouth again, Sukuna’s cutting you off with one hand reaching down to wrap around your throat. The other pulls your shaky hips down to sit on his face. 

“How’s this for jealous?” He grunts, an obscene slurping noise pouring into your hazy bedroom, eyes rolling to the back of his head at this messy kiss with your needy cunt. “Gonna make you forget about those shitty people. Just focus on me.”

You’re managing to wrangle your greedy gaze over your shoulder to spy his lewdly wet smirk, glistening down with a glossed cover of your slick. They’re so pretty, so kiss-bruised in your favorite shade of pink when they wrap around your throbbing cunt to give a harsh suck. “What? Got a problem, woman?”

You wine softly in protest, your lower lip jutting out in a pout that makes his clothed cock just coat down his fat tip with syrupy precum. Opening your mouth to retort and-

In all of two seconds, Sukuna’s hand snug around your throat drops down to tug on his boxers. Tall, angry erection hitting your parted lips with a soft thwack! It doesn’t stay there for long - no, because you feel that familiar pressure back on your throat again, and his achy cock being bullied down, down, down your throat. 

“Actually, don’t answer that.” he’s letting out a strained groan, sanity dancing away with every clench of your tight throat around his glistening shaft. Holding you still with the hand on your throat, Sukuna’s powerful thigh muscles strain when he’s fucking up into your heavenly mouth slow, sultry. Spitting to coat him in all your sweet saliva, “Consider this quiet time, just shut up and take my cock.”

Your eyes are watering, Sukuna’s girth rubbing against every part of your plushy mouth. Swirling a pool of salty precum on your tongue. You can’t do anything but keen brokenly around that warm weight when long, thick fingers are spreading your puffy folds to wrangle his long tongue in deeper. Textures of his tastebuds grazing over and over against your spongy entrance - your clit. 

“Hngh- mmpf-” you’re jutting your hips traitorously. Dragging your slobbering pussy up and down his thorough lips, giving longing, drunken licks up from your weepy base to your hot clit. “Kuna-”

He breaks away with a sinful smack! Your sensitive bud being tugged along with snapping strings of delicate precum and slick.

“Mhm, that’s what I like-” he’s slurring out words mixing together with need. Free hand coming down to toy your clit between two rolling fingers. And you could tell how much he liked this, fat shaft twitching animalistically inside your mouth. Nudging his leaking head at the back of your throat, it’s only with how long you’ve been with Sukuna that you manage not to gag. “-to have you shut up on my cock this way. That pretty mouth is better used for something other than rememberin’ some shitty people when you’re with me. They can fuck right off with the disrespect towards my woman.”

It’s all you can do to keep your jaw slacking further and further with every dragged-out smack of Sukuna’s heavy balls against your face. His hips using you like some glorified cocksleeve, ruthless in his pace. Molding your mouth to the shape of him while he does the very same with yours.

“F-fuuuck-” you manage to gasp out through the drooling edges of your lips. “It feels so- ngh–” Moans getting lost when Sukuna flicks your throbbing clit slowly, nudging with the very tip of his dark fingernails. “You’re being so-”

“So loud.” he finishes your own sentence for you. Grinning a grin that sends shivers up your spine, right to where he was stuffing your mouth shut with all long inches of his cock. Murmuring dangerously around your sloppy hole, “Interrupt quiet time again and you don’t get to cum, brat.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - Unmistakably depraved.

“Fuuuuck, sweetheart.” Gojo’s whispering, over and over. As if he can’t - won’t - manage to articulate anything else right now. The honeyed words wrenching out of him with each sticky crash of his shaft down your sloppy slit in this firm mating press. “Do you know how hngh- long I’ve missed this sweet cunt?”

You don’t have to answer, and the echoing smack! of his too-sensitive balls against the curve of your ass is enough of one for him. Making his eyes gleam with such a feral glint, traveling straight to where he was pressing in bullying little grinds past your clamping walls. 

It’s been so long - too long - about a whole week since your pussy-whipped boyfriend was able to have his fill of you.

A soft pad of his thumb rolls in a  languid circle over your needy clit. Sending white-hot shockwaves that have you jolting the balls of your feet to greedily swallow up even more throbbing inches of him. 

“Fuck, forgot how tight you s-squeeze me when I do that.” Gojo eyes dance to the back of his head with every bottom-out hit against your clingy mess of a cunt. Crashing so messily onto every velvety inch of your cunt. It only takes a few drags of your slobbering walls down his length for your dear boyfriend to run his mouth, “Forgot allll about this because of some- hngh- some mournng for a fucking fictional character-”

“My favorite character, Toru!” you exclaim, through furrowed brows. Both of you are shocked at the fact that you’re still managing to speak in coherent sentences - just means he hasn’t fucked you good enough yet, he muses with his syrupy, pussydrunk mind. “He was my- my favorite and he died and-”

You’re immediately being shut up by two sweet lips planting on your own, immediately moving to suck on your tongue so filthily. “Well, I’m your favorite boyfriend-” Your only, but semantics. Gojo whines - whines, “Shouldn’t I- hngh- be more important?”

As if to help you make your decision, he’s burrowing his cock in such needy thrusts. And Gojo can’t help but crane his neck to bite down on your frantically racing pulse, feeling himself salivate with how well you’re milking each and every single vexing ram of his hips. Just spearing the hotly saturated tip into your spongy g-spots, so fucking big that every stroke feels like a brush against your throat, an indent into the plush walls of your pussy, wrapping and molded around his girth. 

Another bite to your neck at your silence - sharp canines just shy of drawing blood. And you swear Gojo’s eyes spark with an unnatural lightning blue when he devours you with a greedy stare, “Answer me, sweetheart.”

“You a-are.” Is all you can gasp out, but that’s not enough for the great Gojo Satoru. You’re instantly earning a rosy pout and a loaded smack! right on the bullseye of your glistening clit, faintly you think you hear the crackle of jujutsu. Thighs burning at the sheer stretch of being folded down, down, down until your knees knocked against your tits. “You’re more- hah! Fuck fuck fuck don’t– you’re more important!”

This seems to soothe your jealous boyfriend a bit, but it still doesn’t stop him from placing such brutal thrusts on your poor, ravaged pussy. Bruising. Sloppy. 

You’re whining so brokenly, “Fuck, right there- feels too good- hngh!”

“Mhm, exactly what I thought.” Another explosive slap to your sensitive nub, humming with power, and Gojo throws his head back at how much it makes you gush so wetly around his thick hilt. “Now, was that- ngh- was that so hard?” Spitting out little profanities into your lips, as if the man he was jealous over wasn’t a few pixels, “The f-fucker- Had to wait a whole week before I got to comfort my sad girl? I’d kill him myself.”

You can’t even formulate a response to that - not even if you wanted to. Because with increasingly sloppy drags of his cock against your walls, Gojo only grows more and more heated. 

“Fuck- makin’ my girl so upset. Gonna fuck all thoughts outta him for ya.” Babbling out little curses a mile a minute, swift pace bruising your spring cervix, your g-spot. A thin trickle of drool trails messily in-between your clashing kisses, only growing every time he’s ramming into your gripping cunt. “Gonna make you cum- make you mine.” Difficult, even with how you were clinging onto his every rough, angled thrust, and you don’t think Gojo even realizes the possessive little spanks he’s repeatedly leaving on your puffy clit. “Won’t you cum like a good girl f’me, sweetheart?”

He’s moaning at the sloppy way you listen to his ragged plea, letting out such pretty moans into the heady air when you fall back into your high. Toes curling, jolts of needy pleasure running down your spine, such a mess. 

It makes Gojo falter in his tempo, it makes the sharp bones on his toned hips slam into you even harder, stuttering and rutting forwards like some animal in heat that can’t bear to do anything but be buried well inside you. It makes him cum. 

“Oh- fuck, Toru s’in so deep.” You mewl, too cockdrunk to say anything else. To feel anything but the slow, sultry filling of your quivering cunt. Rope after rope of his hot cum painting the mess of your branded walls inside, and each time he’s fucking his cum even deeper you feel a lewd whimper of his name leave you. Vision tinging with need, with the feeling of being so overfilled you could barely breathe. “Oh- oh my god I feel it coming-”

Your words hitch in your throat when Gojo - cock still angry and twitching with faint wisps of trickling cum - plugs a slender finger into your bulging cunt. Stopping the overflow, the grins, “Hope you’re on the pill, my girl, because we’re not done until you forget.”

A/N. Ouu y’all should’ve seen the way I was CACKLING writing Toji’s ending.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[valiasims]

Cozy Cabin Collection - Nursery

Hey everyone!

Sorry for the delay I was working a lot on this to be the way I wanted it to be but here it is! The next part of the Cozy Cabin Colletion is the nursery.

This time I wanted to bring a cozy, bear themed nursery with neutral colors and elements that represent nature.

This set has started a little difficult and I had to change some things because I wanted to include windows too but I realized there are so many things I want to make that the windows have to be left out this time. So I basically wasted a 3-4 days. Technically those days aren't wasted because I'll include the windows hopefully in the next set but I had less time for the items in this set.

I had a rough time with the curtains because at first these looked more thrown on the crib but I discovered that the arch is exactly the same as some in-game arched windows and I wanted them to be useable more ways so I redid them to be more curtainy. This inspired me to do arched windows so maybe I'll do them next, I'm not sure yet.

So about the items. I made these arches with the wooden frames to go together as you can see. All of them come in all 3 wall heights. The best to place them with half tile placement turned on with the F5 key.

I added 3 different furniture to slot into the wooden frames. You can mix and match these however you like or use them separately. With the half tile placement you can put them next to each other perfectly. 2 of them are shelves and one is a dresser with dresser functionality.

I mentioned the curtains the fit perfectly under the arch so you can use them like a canopy above the crib.

The changing table is base game and functional.

(The armchair and deco cushion is from the previous Entryway set.)

I think that's it, please let me know how you like it and if you have any errors, problems let me know as well! Hope you have a nice day/night and enjoy this set as much as I loved to create it. Despite some things being difficult I really enjoyed doing these items and this is my favourite collection I've done so far.

The Set Includes

Crib

Changing Table

Wooden Arch (3 heights)

Wooden Frame (3 heights, Left and Right variation)

Dresser

Shelves (2 variations, with tree design, without tree design)

Sheer Curtains

Bear Lights (3 heights)

Baby Blankets

Stack of Books

Children's Books

Lying Bear Plushie

Sitting Bear Plushie

Wooden Bears Family Deco

Round Rug

-DOWNLOAD HERE- Public release on the 17th of December 6PM CST

[monstersholygrail]

Imagine a big terrifying Alien who’s only heard about love and affection from watching human interactions and romance movies. And ever since then he’s been such a lovable and cuddly guy, but only for you, the one who showed him these great treasures.

Now you can’t go a second without his large hands on you. The way they curl around your limbs and pull you tight against him. His hands that always seem to wander, squishing your soft flesh in his palms, pinching and tweaking at your sensitive nipples, and sliding down to cup and rub the curious heat between your thighs.

And if you could ever manage to sit in your own seat again it would be a miracle. The alien immediately drags you down onto his lap whenever you go to sit down. If you dare to sit next to him or god forbid across from him, he’ll just pick you up and plop you right back into his lap, not caring that he’s knocking over everything on the table in his path.

It’s all innocent, he’s just exploring new sensations with someone he trusts. At least that’s what you tell yourself. Ignoring the knowing glint in his eyes and excusing the alerts you’ve been getting about someone accessing unauthorized websites on your computer.

It’s too hard to think right now anyway as you rock against his skilled fingers that curl inside of you, hitting that spongy spot that has your eyes rolling back. Your thighs and his a mess as they’re drenched in your release. You’ve lost count of how many times he’s made you cum tonight.

He just won’t stop touching you, long thick digits reaching the deepest parts of you. Gliding along your gummy walls and igniting your nerves with every flick of his wrist. Loud squelching echos in your bunker and you’ve long stopped trying to be quiet. Who cares if your crew knows what you’re doing? It’s just another lesson, that’s all.

“O-oh what a good— good mate. Doing so w-well f’me. Can’t get enough, can you? So desperate for my fingers,” the Alien murmurs in your ear, lust seeping into his tone.

You squeeze your eyes tightly, trying not to think about how he learned to talk like that. But instead letting his praise wash over you as he slips in another thick digit, scissoring his fingers and stretching you so deliciously. Ragged moans tear from your throat, body arching into his touch as you grow more and more tense.

Cute little pleased clicks from the Alien’s throat drown out your cries of pleasure as you shake in his arms. Your release gushing all over his fingers and adding to wet spot forming on your bed. He still doesn’t stop, working you through it till overstimulation has your toes curling and your body twitching.

You know he’ll keep touching and touching till you cum all over again and your hips roll back into his, wanting even more. You can feel his massive bulge digging into your ass and promising pleasure out of this world. And you’ve been to many of them.

With a gentle tug, you guide the Alien’s hand out of your core, watching it drip with your release. The Alien hisses at you, very put out that you’ve stopped his loving touches. But you gently shush him and turn around to straddle his giant lithe frame. Your hands already moving to the hem of his sweatpants.

“I think maybe we can move onto your next lesson now. There are many forms of human intimacy you’ve yet to discover, sweet one,” you say seductively.

Just as you slowly tug his sweatpants down enough to have his fat cock pop out from its confines and slap against his toned stomach. His length soaked with his own release just from your grinding but still rock hard.

Oh, he had so much to learn…

Part 2…?

[nanamisgirly]

cw cheater!nanami, spit, age gap, degrading. (unprotected sex, p in v)

touching yourself in the guest room of your best friend's house was probably a terrible idea. but could anyone blame you when nanami had spent the entire day parading around shirtless, sun-kissed and glistening, those broad shoulders shifting effortlessly as he flipped burgers at the grill?

sprawled on the bed, fingers between your thighs with the vivid image of nanami. older, mature, built like he was sculpted for sin. that blonde happy trail, those veined forearms, the way his sweat-soaked shorts sat loooow on his hips...teasing the thick ridge beneath—it wasn't fair.

"n-nanami- mfghn" as two fingers played with your inside, you wished it was him. with those big hands, those tired, restrained eyes. just the thought of him kneeling between your legs, muttering about how bad this was as he spreads you open, pressing his cock against your slick folds—you nearly cum.

"fuck—n-need him," your pussy started clenching.

when suddenly, you hear a soft crack and your door shifted, just a little. and through the dim light you see a very imposing Nanami standing in the doorframe. eyes wide, watching you. but you were so lost in pleasure you continued anyway "M-Mr. n-nanami-" you used your small fingers to part your pussy lips, letting him see your glistening inside.

nanami should back down, act like he saw nothing. but it's been so long since he properly fucked. his wife doesn't even let him have sex, and if he does, it's just a plain-boring vanilla sex.

that's why his hands are on you in the speed of the light. gripping your hips, shoving you down onto the mattress, mouth against your neck. "fuck.." nanami was fast to drag out his monstrous rock-hard cock. pink tip flushing, hungry. your walls clenched around nothing. you were so ready to be stretched open by him. your back arches, in need.

"p-put in it— i-i'm prep enough." you reached for his cock and give him a few strokes. he was sooo heavy in your hand.

"goddamn." nanami doesn't wait for more. he glides his swollen tip along your drenched slit, teasing, pressing. then with a ruthless snap of his hips, he's buried deep inside of you—so deep it feels like he's rearranging your insides, stealing the breath from your lungs. you're dripping, struggling to take his sheer size. each unforgiving thrust shoves you deeper into the sheets, the bed frame creaking under the force. "p-please—more—ah!—n-need more," you grind back on him, desperate, matching his brutal rhythm, your slick making a filthy mess between you.

nanami snaps, pushing your legs up, up, up—until your knees brush your ears. he adjusts his stance, planting his feet for better leverage. he watches the way your stomach bulges with every ruthless stroke. he presses a broad palm over the swell, feeling himself inside you, grunting when you whimper. this new position was so good, feeling every thick veins grazing your inside as he goes in and out, in and out, in—

"you filthy slut," nanami spits the words against your ear, his grip bruising where he holds your thighs, dragging you back onto his cock like you're nothing more than a toy to use. "moaning my name like a desperate thing while you touch yourself. what kind of nasty little girl gets off thinking about her best friend's dad who is twice her age?" you can't even answer. you're too fucked-out, too cock-drunk. "messy fucking cunt," he growls, glancing down to where your juices drips down on his cock, his thighs sticky with your slick. "wanted me to stretch this messy little hole until you couldn't walk? fuck, I can feel you drooling around me—naaaasty." your nails claw at his shoulders, your soaked cunt clenching down, begging for more.

his fingers wrap around your throat, forcing your head up. "use your words, slut. I asked you a question."

"y-yes-" your voice cracks, high and breathless, "-wanted you so bad, w-wanted—ohhh, f-fuck—" nanami grabs your jaw, forces your mouth open, and spits straight onto your tongue. "swallow." you do—instantly, obediently—moaning as the taste of him lingers, heat searing through your veins.

"poor dump thing," his grip is bruising, pinning you down, keeping you right where he wants you—helpless and trembling, your walls fluttering wildly around the thick length. your spin arches like a bow as he says "gonna ruin you. gonna fuck you so full, you won't even remember how anyone else feels."

nanami was on the verge of loosing his mind. "you're gonna take every last drop of my cum, everything I give you." his hands seize your ass, forcing you down onto his thick base. "like a gooood slut, right?" that was probably the best pussy he's ever had. and he surely won’t stop fucking you dump any time soon.

a/n mean nanami for the win🙂‍↕️

[toji-bunny-girl]

Toji with a puppy girl👀

Nah cuz puppy!reader…x wolf!toji‼️⁉️ GOODBYE YALL🫡

Alright imagine wolf cop!Toji and puppy!reader who accidentally got caught speeding and acting all fidgety and nervous when he made her roll her window down. Wolf cop!Toji’s leaning against your car door, merely asking for your driver’s license and you’re already shaking in your seat.

The first thing you did was trying to explain why you were speeding just a little, to buy some heat suppressants and Toji could see that you weren’t lying about that. Puppy girl is all sweaty, your eyes are droopy with indecipherable lust and your aromal pheromones were begging him to breed you. He is a servant of the law, supposedly having to be professional on his job, but fuck did he want to help you with your heat.

He doesn’t know the extent of his self-control and he has no interest in testing it today—so he promptly sends puppy off with a warning, he’d better not catch you speeding again.

The next time he saw puppy was a few seasons later—when he was passing by an alley on the way home from dinner with the chief. There was a little yelp of desperation, and what seemed to be someone calling for help. He could smell the scent fraught and despair, along with a familiar whiff of feminine pheromones.

Stalking into the tenebrous alleyway, he found you cowering all scared over the corner, ears back and tail between your legs as a hooded male prowled closer to you. 

Without much thinking, Toji hauled the male away from you, smashing his frame against the wall before locking his hands behind his back. 

The man tried to fight back but it was all simply in futile. He could try all he want but Toji would still have him subjugated under his strength. Ripping the hoodie off of him, and as his features were described; it was the serial rapist around your area. 

“Oi!” he called for your attention, sobbing as you shut your thighs tight together. “Get my phone outta my pocket.”

You did as you’re told, dialling the number he chanted aloud and soon the cops were there to bring the male under custody. 

“Thank you for saving me, sir,” you spoke to the intimidatingly huge wolf. And Toji returned with a terse ‘welcome’, noting the crimson blush you wore underneath your cheeks and your strong intoxicating scent; it made his head heavy and the world seemed to whirled in his sight. 

“Yer’ alright?” his voice was comfortingly deep, the grizzly pitch scratching the nerves in your ears. You’re practically sweating, and acting like how you were the first time he saw you. “Why are you out here alone this late?”

“I was going to get some heat suppressants and my car was getting fixed. So I had to walk…” you embarrassingly cried. Fuck, he swore in his head, not again. The officers were busy with the rapist bastard and letting you continue your walk alone seemed unsafe. So, he’d better send you back as quickly as possible and get on his merry way home. 

Or so he thought. 

“Please, please, please…!” you tearily whined, rubbing yourself against his knee, nose buried deep in his neck, breathing in his manly essence. Toji was beating back a groan, your scent punching his nostrils and messing up his heartbeat. He was supposed to drive you home, and somehow you’re straddled on top of him just as he has reached your home.

“Hey—”

“It hurts s’much, sir!” you’ve balled his shirt into your fist, staring at him with those wet puppy eyes. It’s your hormones against his instincts, and he has to put himself under control no matter what. “The toys are no use, I can’t do it anymore!”

“Where’s ya suppressant?” Toji sighed as he rummaged through your bag, his thigh began to dampen and the bulge in his pants pumped against the restraints of his brief as it grew in size. You didn’t manage to buy it, did you?

“Please, save me,” your voice broke as you cried, desperation oozing out of your eyes along with your tears. He could feel your pulse through his pants and your drenched panty, and fuck were you pushing him towards the edge of his limits. “It’s just this once, please…!”

Your words were the breaking point that wrenched the very last of his self-control out of his wavering self. But rules are still rules, and he worked quickly to call his partner, instructing him to help log out of his shift system for him. You were practically all over him when the phone call ended, your little teeth nipping and licking over his saliva-coated neck.

“Bad girl,” Toji clicked his tongue, his voice was low, almost predatory with a growl. You let out a yelp when he grabbed your face, forcing your head to the side as to expose the supple skin of your neck. It wasn’t fair for you to mark him without expecting him to imprint on you. Especially when you’d let out your adorable gasps as he sunk his sharp teeth into your flesh, your skin threatening to break and blood ready to flow under the subjugation of his canines.

He would only learn more of the sound you’d make when he pressed a finger against your pulsing clit through your embarrassingly wet panty, teasing and rolling your bud until your body shook and voice begged him to touch you more.

You were all he could smell and hear, his mind and body nearly drunk off of your pheromones that bubbled into the sizzling hot air. And it took the rest of a pathetic amount of restrain left in him not to eat you whole. He would have to compromise on the honey that seemed to coat your skin, sucking and biting the sweetness off of you.

Your gasps turned to whines when he stuffed a finger into your heat, a single digit of his large enough to please your squeezing cunt. But he expected you to take more than that, stretching out your slick-dripped pussy with two of his thick fingers. Your cavern squelched as he slipped them in and out of you, your head growing heavy and your eyesight turning hazy.

“Feel so—nnh, good…!” you slurred through the pleasure that shook your nerves. Your movements did nothing but agitated the bulge in his trousers, and Toji hated being edged of all things. So he had your wrists bounded by his cuffs, your arms raised above his head and your motions then restricted to your hips as you buckled them from the tingles in your core.

Toji smirked through one of the bite he was marking on your chest when he pumped his digits in and out of your sloppy cunt faster, his thumb reaching your clit and stimulating both of them at the same time. You burst into heightened cries as you felt your orgasm coming close, your hips rolling with his thick fingers as they curled over the gummy part of your wall, your eyes rolling to the back of head as pressure started building in your core.

“Mmnh—I’m cummin’, I’m cummin’!” you repeated into a chant, your features twisting to his enjoyment as he watched you come undone from his mere fingers.

From the look of it, Toji knew you haven’t had enough. You were at the height of your heat, any coherence long melted into your innate desires to mate, for hours at least. You tried to free yourself from the cuff he’d locked you in, your eyes raking over his body down to the pumping size in his pants, a spot of pre-cum damp from your doings.

“Please, sir…” you whined through your adorable doe eyes, your craving for his cock to fill your cunt catching up to your limit. “Please fuck me.”

“That’s what I wanna hear,” Toji smirked, nipping the end of your sensitive ear, causing you to shudder from his touch. He loved the fact that he doesn’t have to ask for you to beg for him, his animalistic ego stroked by your adorable neediness.

Your eyes nearly popped out when you watched him unbuckled his belt and pulled his pants down to release his fat cock, veiny and pulsing and ready to pump you full. You were almost too eager to fit him inside of you, your hips sinking down a little too quickly. But Toji was quicker to grab you before you hurt yourself. You were already well prepared, your body releasing all the hormones necessary but still, you were built a little too small for him.

“Someone’s impatient,” Toji chuckled as you wriggled in his hold. Just as he thought, your lips paused open when he slowly sank you halfway down his length, his thick cock pushing against the wall of your tummy, a little bump from the shape of his bulging from the inside of your stomach.

The both of you swore underneath your breaths, and you threw your head back when Toji started shifting into your hips. You were so damn tight and warm and wet that his carnal need to breed hit him like a fucking truck.

His jaw clenched as he forced his whole length into your pulsing hole, your eyebrows furrowed and teeth sunk into your bottom lip from how full you felt. Your breaths left your mouth as dragged moans when Toji began to draw his hips out and into your weeping cunt, slow but deep.

His thumb drew circles upon your hardened clit once again, attempting to ease your clenching hole but it did nothing but tightened your grip around his girth. “You gotta relax, pup,” he groaned into the sultry air, and you cried as you shook your head.

“M’ can’t! Please!” you mewled, rolling your hips for the least bit of friction, itching to ease the tingle between your thighs.

“Fuck,” Toji growled as tears of frustration began forming in your eyes. You weren’t the only one starved for sex, he’s been holding on for so long just not to hurt you. But you’re an eager one, can’t even wait for his cock to start moving and you’re sniffling your tears aback. “You better not regret this,” he clicked his tongue before drawing his hips back, slamming them up into your weeping cunt.

The car shook from the force and a scream lodge itself in your throat, your pussy ached with his cock dragging against your walls, and a pulsing warmth began to swarm all over your belly. “Haah—it’s s’good!” you mumbled unsteadily, your back arching into him and eyes turning crossed.

“I need you to be, shit—clearer, sweet.”

“Your cock f-feel s’good, sir!” you could feel the way Toji twitched inside of you, his pace relentless and rough. It doesn’t take long for you to feel the crack of the pressure in your core, and your released gushed all over his lap and car seat, the scent of your essence making his head heavy.

He doesn’t stop even when your lips spewed nothing but rambles, your drool slipping down your chin and onto your marked chest. Instead, he began to fuck himself into you, harder and faster. Your thighs shook for the way his cock spurred up your insides, it was as if he was trying to bring you apart then and there.

Toji bellowed out a low growl as his nails sank into the flesh on your hips, using your body like a fleshlight and messing up your sore cunt. Your slick cavern hugged his cock tight as he twitched, the nerves on his tip dancing upon the fire of pleasure before you feel a rope of his velvety semen paint your insides white, a wave of orgasm crushing down over you soon after.

You’re too drunk and dumb off his cock to stop him, your eyes rolled to the back of your head and tongue idly lolling out. Toji had spent too much of his time enveloped in your mating pheromones, his hormones raging all over his body, twisting the levels until he was down to nothing but a hulking body of a male intending to impregnate.

Unbeknownst to you, it would take days for a wolf’s rut to wear off.

[screampied]

Pls write a Toji fic where at any point he says he fucking loves your pussy 😞 Toji’s dirty talk is just different

toji being obsessed with your pussy ★

cw. fem! reader, brief p in v, degradation, spıt, ōral (f! receiving), overstim, hair pulling, mdni.

it was no secret— toji fushiguro was a nasty man,

the nastiest. especially whenever it came to being propped up between your legs. whether it’s giving you ruthless thrusts to where your toes are all curled up and numb, or . . he’s shoved face first right between your plush thighs. it was hard to differentiate whether his slick mouth or his dick in general was the nastiest of the two. currently, he’d have you sprawled out on the bed. your ankles instinctively lock against his slim waist as he’s pounding into you again and again. “shit, ‘m gonna fill you up again, baby,” he’d groan, grabbing ahold of one of your legs. it dangles as you’re just being fucked stupid. the most doltish expression marinated against your face before he brings your ankle up to his mouth to give it a teasing kiss. “mhm, always know how to take me everytime. wet girl, ‘s fuckin’ sloppy just for me.”

“t- tojiiii,” you’d whine out in pathetic babbles.

due to his thick size and even thicker girth, the stomach seizing that churns all throughout your lower abdomen comes so easily that you’re panting.

hot, parching breaths of airy air aerates out of your sheeny parted lips before he’s balls deep. you’re clenching down onto him tight, gripping him with all your might like a vice and he sucks his teeth from the addictive rapture. leafy, cunning eyes of his stare into you and a hand of his gingerly wraps around your throat. “fuck, f-fuuuck. inside, ‘toj. i can’t take it.”

“course ya can,” he snickers, grinding his beefy body against yours before he sneaks a kiss against your trembling lips. the strong taste of alcohol resides on his tongue and you moan before he precipitously pulls away. “hold onto my arms, sweet girl. ‘s gonna get a bit messy, heh.”

as he continues to mercilessly drill into you—he lets off a four second groan. it’s so low that you can hear the baritone growl from underneath it. it’s sexy. you stare up at him with glossy eyes, the way he elongates the single syllable in such a gruff tone.

it makes you throb, toji’s head throws itself back as he’s starting to flood your womb with such goopy amounts of his cum. it trickles into you in ropes, satiny rich ropes that leave you feeling entirely fulfilled.

fulfilled in a filthy way though,

“. . goddamn,” he huffs as his chest steadily raises in and out. your shaky legs still envelop around his slim waist as he’s pumping you full of cock. the vicious wet squelches that came out of your own cunt was so lewd, he never wants the noise to stop. “such a messy girl. mhmm,” and he slowly pulls his pulsating dick out. gradually, he’s purposely taking his time and smirking at your little irritated whimper. devastatingly enough, your gaping entrance now feels completely empty once he’s not inside of you anymore. all you feel was the freshly soaked viscous wads of seed shoved all inside of your walls. still gushing, he leans down and brings his face right up against your legs. “mine.” he purrs, poking out a single thumb to spread your puffed, swollen lips open. toji happily gawks at the mess he created, you’re still trying to catch your own breath as you’re slumped back against the cushioned bed frame.

it’s so sticky—he flicks his tongue near the right side of his mouth. it swipes against his inclined scar and you can hear his breathy chortle right between your legs.

you knew what that meant,

he wanted more, he was still hungry and he was gonna clean you right up—after all, toji didn’t like putting things to waste. especially if that ‘thing’ was nothing more than his precious cum.

“f- fuck, toji,” you moan, your hips wriggling a bit as he pries your legs apart from each other. as he moves you a bit, you wreathe from his weight thwacking against you. with the way his cum droops out of your fluttering entrance.

oh, it was such a sight to see.

a fat thumb of his goads toward your dampened, oozing slit before he gives your sloppy pussy a single kiss. toji doesn’t even flinch at the taste of himself now starting to go against his tongue.

it’s bitter anyway—barely with a taste to it but with a concoction of your sweet arousal, it tasted appetizing,

you tasted appetizing.

“you’re s-so nasty.” you puff, tugging ahold of his ravened strands. he’s always loved whenever you did that. as he’s still swaying his hips against you, you take it upon yourself to comb a few curling fingers into his rumpled hair. toji simpers, showing you nothing but a sly, hungry gaze. “t- toji, mhm.”

“yeah, girl. duh, nasty just for you though,” he whispers against your pussy. his breath was warm, feverish even. with each movement he moves closer, lolling out his tongue to get a good enough taste, you’re throbbing right in his mouth. your back naturally arches and he hums, slurping in your syrupy fervor. “fuckin’ love this pussy, ‘s sweet. sweet ‘n sloppy. listen to how she tries to give me little back talk, baby.”

and you grow mute—feeling him purse his lips, moving away to only then bring a big hand towards your slick opening. as you’re convulsing time and time again, he slithers two thickset fingers inside of your entrance and you whine. another hand of his starts to give your cunt a few rude spanks. you jolt back, moaning with your exposed breasts harmonizing with your unsteady movements. “ooh,” he snarls, hearing the slosh. it’s so wet, a few spurts of your juices even lands directly underneath his chin. he licks it with his tongue before giving it another spank, and another, and another.

swatting a palm repeatedly against your pussy, you’re continuing to drag and scrape his face closer between your thighs. “like that, huh. fuckin’ messy girl,” and he spanks it again before blowing against it. “my messy girl. my messy pussy.”

and toji starts to make out with your cunt. literally french kisses against it with tongue—his lengthy dark lashes close shut before he latches his lips against your swollen walls, feeling your body twitch in response. “heh,” he exhales deeply before departing his spit-coated lips away. his scar tickling against your entrance and another whine dies out of your throat. “keep this up ‘n ‘m gonna propose to this sloppy cunt, right princess?”

and he’s not even talking to you anymore, nor is he looking at you—he’s talking to your pussy, as if it, could reply.

“exactly,” he jibes, gifting you a final mean spank against your folds before flipping you over. you gasp once he pulls your hips against him. a hand of his squeezes a fat chunk of your ass before he spanks it. the recoil of your ass makes him groan. “mhm, not done though. gimme that arch again baby, bend against me. gonna take my time with you, messy girl.”