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menu - your love for sevika is boundless, but does she know that?
word count - 1191
allergies? - mid ass writing, stalker!reader x sevika, modern au, sevika has her arm, stalking, obsessive behaviors, (attempted) stealing clothes, reader is self-conscious, breaking in (kinda), reader is a perv, a handgun is mentioned, faux threats, cool plot twist, hair pulling, face slapping, dubcon, face fucking, breath play, reader passes out, implied aftercare
brain spill - i literally just want to post something bro
if anybody else knew what you were doing they would probably be really creeped out. you don't really understand why though, it's not like you're a man, or a murderer. yet. you just love sevika, with all your heart. you know everything about her.
what cologne she wears, which you bought for yourself. where she works. what apartment she lives in, you even got a copy of her key (which was not that hard of a task shockingly). her parents, her nieces and nephews, her friends, anybody who knows her you know of and have done detailed background checks of them, for her safety of course. what her favorite food is, her favorite colour, her favorite show, her favorite restaurant. her schedule. when she gets her paycheck. what diner she goes to every Saturday, including the waiter that serves her regularly (who you followed home one night just in case she decides to try and get too close to your girl).
she's the love of your life. nobody else can have her. these thoughts fly through your head during the drive to her house. you try to go there when you know that she won't be there, and she works nights, so its already late.
9:45 pm. there's no one else on the roads or the streets. it's quiet, just as you like it.
you get to her apartment complex at 10.
she lives in apartment 14B. you haven't been in it very often, only 4 or 5 times. it's so nerve racking to be in there. you start to feel guilty every time you even get close, but you're deciding to face your overwhelming anxiety for the wonderful reward of being in her presence.
stepping out of your car, which is parked in the dark wooded area behind the apartments, you gather the half-full backpack (intending to leave with it full) from the backseat. you walk with faux confidence to the building, thankfully the complex has no security measures, making it much, much easier to go to your baby's home.
you stride your way to the 3rd floor, still being cautious, pulling out your key and unlocking the front door.
no matter how many times you visit, it still seems to overwhelm you. the entire apartment smells of her, soft vanilla and musk, with a faint aftertaste of cigarette smoke. you love it. you drag your fingertips along the wall as you make your way to her bedroom.
her room is just as perfectly imperfect as her. mildly dirty, a filled ashtray by the window, dirty clothes strewn around the room.
"she's a busy lady, it makes sense that she's a little messy." you think.
your first stop is at her dirty laundry basket. you stare at it for a bit. heart racing and teeth gnawing at your bottom lip. it's just so.. perverted. you dig in it anyway. you very quickly find what you're looking for, some dirty boxers. you quickly stuff them in your backpack and continue your snooping.
while looking through her side drawer, you spot a box under her bed. you start to pull it out, but then the sound of keys jingling in the lock of the front door.
you scramble to get your bag and leave but as you step to leave her room, the door is already opening. you start to sweat. shit! shit! you turn on your heel and stuff yourself into her closet and slide the doors closed.
this is bad. you're gonna get caught. your eyes start to water in fear, guilt, and anger towards yourself. you try to keep quiet, covering your mouth with your hand.
you see her walk into her room through the slits in the closet door. she acts like everything is normal, like nobody else is there. she kicks off her shoes, and goes to sit on her bed, when she stops suddenly, staring at that box from under her bed that you pulled out halfway. your eyes widen, but before you can properly react, her eyes shoot towards the closet and she's practically running to it, tearing the door open and pulling you out by your arm.
it felt like you had passed out for a split second. your mind awakens from the feeling of the cold metal of a gun pressed underneath your jaw. you're fully crying now, hot tears falling from your eyes onto the cold handgun.
"give me one reason not to blow your head off right now." sevika growls, her eyes burning into yours. but the hard stare seems less threatening, almost like it's laced with.. familiarity?
your sobs make your words come out incoherent, "i'm-i-i'm so-orry." you sniffle and grab the wrist that holds the gun to your jaw as a grin that you are unable to see through your tears forms on the woman's face.
she throws you to the ground and you grab at the plush carpet beneath you, tears dripping onto the backs of your hands as uncontrollable sobs rack through your body.
above you, sevika tosses her, very much empty, gun onto the bed and unbuckles her pants, "you know, you are a really easy one to fool."
you mumble a quiet "huh?" as she digs her fingers into your scalp to make your eyes land on hers once again.
she ignores the winces and whines you make as she speaks, "i've known about you this whole time. the following me home, stealing my keys to copy them, breaking into my apartment." she ends with a small chuckle and a shake of her head.
"i always knew. stupid little lamb."
your eyes couldn't physically widen anymore now, but sevika's not done speaking.
"and since i know you want me to so, so badly, i'm gonna use you for all your worth." she lets go of your hair to grab your wrist and set them on her already unbuckled belt.
you freeze, this can't possibly be happening. she was aware of you this whole time? a sudden, hard slap stings your face.
"what are you waiting for you stupid mutt?" she hisses at you.
you immediately follow her wordless direction, pulling down her pants and boxers, keeping eye contact with her beautifully stormy eyes.
not letting you get a good breath in, she grabs a hold of your hair again and shoves you into her pussy. groans immediately flow from her lips as you work your mouth to the best of your ability, your hands finally able to grab at the hips you've dreamed of touching for so long.
she feverously grinds against your face. the oxygen in your lungs slowly leaves as you now push against her in an attempt to let you breathe, but she's too enthralled with her own pleasure to notice the convulsing of your chest and your face going pale.
and as she finally cums, your eyes go fully black, passing out with your mouth full of juices from the love of your life.
you wake up in the afternoon alone, but in sevika's bed. you check yourself but find no injuries. you're so utterly confused. what the fuck happened?
— something was terribly wrong with your new home. little did you know, it was because of the sneaky, little ghost that stalked his claim and aimed to make you his, even if it meant scaring away anybody who dared to get too close to you.
ghost!toji x fem!reader
WORD COUNT: 7.2k
WARNINGS: 18+, mdni, smut, oral, fingering, overstimulation, p in v sex, dirty talk, creampies, spectrophilia/phasmophilia, reader fucks a ghost and likes it <3
There was something awfully strange about the new home you bought. Sold for such a low price, surely something had to be wrong with it — leaky pipes, faulty wiring, poor insulation, something had to give.
But, when you toured the older home, so beautiful apart from the tweaks you’d definitely have to make in order to make it look a bit more upkept, you saw nothing wrong with it at all. There was no reason why the price had been so low, lest there was something secret and hidden that you couldn’t find with the naked eye.
You took it anyway. If there was anything you’d find later on, you’d suck it up and deal with it, because the home was too good to pass up and really, you didn’t have all the money in the world to drop on a brand new, modern home anyway.
Besides, this one had character!
That old 1800s charm that might’ve been completely plastered over and painted a depressing millennial gray with the old wallpapers ripped off and intricate floorboards covered if it landed in the hands of somebody evil. You were just doing the world a favor, saving an innocent soul from becoming an eye sore and shared all over the internet like there was something to flex about it.
But… yeah. There was definitely something strange about it. Something you couldn’t quite place a finger on.
It was awfully cold, for one. Even in late August, the air inside the home caused goosebumps to tickle your skin and make the hairs rise. There was a constant chill that threatened to slip down your spine.
It was also incredibly creaky. In the dead of silence, you’d hear floorboards croak and moan, as if weight was being settled on them. There’d be faint sounds of something shifting, like something in the walls hadn’t quite settled and needed to get comfy again.
It kept you up for more nights than you liked to admit. An uneasy feeling would creep at your toes and slowly make its way up until your chest felt tight, your eyes darting around the room to assure nothing was lingering in the darkness while you slept.
You never found anything, of course. That’d be silly. Though, it never quite shook the feeling that something was always there. Watching. Observing. Curious and patient.
You tried telling yourself it was because you were alone.
A big, old house with just you in it was a recipe for paranoia. Too many bedrooms, too many dim hallways, too much silence to fill the empty space — it was no surprise that you had become so jumpy in your own home.
The more you stayed there, the more it made you delusional. You swore that at some point, you could feel eyes watching you as you scurried down the hallways, or undressed for a hot shower, or heated up leftovers in the old microwave that filled the air with a concerning hum.
Maybe, just maybe, you were due for a night out on the town. Maybe picked up from a guy at the bar and fucked reeeal good to rattle your brain and forget about your silly fears. Something to settle you down enough to get a good night’s sleep.
You sighed from where you stood in the old kitchen, staring at the clock on the wall that ticked annoyingly.
7PM.
The night was young — young enough to text Shoko and force her to come with you. After all, she could never truly say no to going out for drinks, and you were positive she’d be more than happy to find her own dick to saddle up on for the night.
Fuck it, you thought, slipping your phone from your pocket and reluctantly typing up a message for Shoko.
Anything to get your mind off of the lonely chill that seemed to seep into your bones from the quiet house.
“Yeah, you definitely look like you need to get fucked.”
You shot a sideways glare at Shoko from where the two of you sat at the counter of a random bar you’d looked up. She appeared smug, hiding a smile in her glass as she tipped it towards her lips to take a swig.
“I told you,” you muttered in defeat, staring down at your own murky liquid and swirling it around. The ice clanked against the glass, cold condensation coating your fingertips.
Shoko sighed beside you, placing a pitiful hand on your shoulder. “Drink up,” she murmured, urging your glass towards you with a light push of her fingers. “It’s hurting me to look at you.”
“Thanks, Sho,” you muttered, earning a snicker from her.
You did as she told, lifting the drink to down the bitter liquor, wincing at the light burn it dragged down your throat. It didn’t take much for Shoko to order the two of you another round, which then turned into a third.
It was enough to have you buzzing, giggling stupidly at one of Shoko’s jokes. You nearly forgot about the end goal of the night until she excused herself to the restroom, leaving you with your own devices.
As if Shoko’s brief disappearance was the opener, you found yourself caught up in a conversation with the man beside you. It was nobody special — somebody funny enough to keep you entertained, pretty enough to cause your heart to flutter, and easy enough to have heat pooling to your core.
It had been a long while since the last time you had sex, and with Shoko’s unwavering support from where she cheekily gave you a thumbs up and a grin from across the bar where she had found her own victim for the night, you decided to go for it.
After all, there didn’t have to be any strings attached, right? It was careless fun and a much needed stress reliever.
You weren’t too sure how the two of you ended up stumbling outside with drunken giggles and arms grabbing on to one another, but you somehow managed to make it into the back of a cab, sharing breathless kisses as the poor driver tried to ask for a location.
Without a thought, you murmured your address, the car slowly pulling away from the curb and down the dim streets, music slowly becoming louder as the driver increased the volume to shadow your heavy breaths.
Your date was nice enough to toss a few bills to the driver, helping you out of the cab. You fumbled on knobby knees and shared drunken laughter as the door slammed shut, his arm holding you steady to guide you to the door of your home.
The night was quiet. Eerily quiet. It was the type of quiet that normally would send a rattle through your bones.
Wind rustled the tall trees and grass that surrounded your property as you clumsily fiddled with your keys. Your date — hell, did you even fucking remember his name? — stood beside you, his nose buried deep in the side of your neck, pressing wet kisses along the smooth skin.
Finally, you managed to shove the key into the lock, turning it until the door burst open, nearly slamming against the wall.
The two of you stumbled in, wasting no time. He eagerly backed you in the hallway, hands grabbing hold of your hips and digging his fingers into the plump skin. You nearly tripped over your own feet in the process, only pulling away from his greedy lips for long enough to grab his hand and guide him to your bedroom.
Your mind was a doozy, the room spinning once you entered the large bedroom. The alcohol was fully blinding your senses, causing your vision to blur as you dropped on to the bed to watch the man before you begin shucking off his shirt in a daze.
You could feel your heart rate pick up in excitement — excitement that you wouldn’t have to spend the night alone, that you could finally declutter your mind from its worries, that you could finally not have to worry about invisible eyes lingering on you around every corner of your own home like you had a secret stalker.
You didn’t even know this man’s name, too drunk to remember, but you didn’t have enough in you to care, simply basking in the temporary relief and allowing yourself the much needed experience.
The man kneeled before you, slow in slipping off the heels that caused your feet to ache. His rough fingertips slid along your ankles, trailing up your calves once the shoes were removed. They slowly creeped under the hem of your dress as he gazed up at you in a drunken daze, one that you could only stupidly grin at.
Thump.
You froze. His movements halted, fingertips tickling your upper thighs.
Thump thump.
Your heart rate picked up as your face contorted into one of confusion.
“You married?” he asked you, to which you frantically shook your head.
“No,” you replied quickly.
THUMP.
You sat up in your bed at the speed of light, eyes finding their way to your closed bedroom door. Closed, like always, from the pure muscle memory that you feared something might slip its way in in the darkness any night and disturb you from your sleep.
“Then who the fuck is that?” he asked, voice souring.
He stood from where he kneeled, swaying lightly from the alcohol in his bloodstream. You shot up on your own feet, catching yourself when your balance stuttered.
“I-I don’t know,” you replied honestly, attempting to walk after him when he pulled open the bedroom door.
The two of you were a drunken mess of wobbly knees and hands pressed against the wall to stay upright. He seemed suddenly different, going from sweet and kind (or, as kind as somebody could be while drunk), to angry and jealous, stalking around your home like he was fully expecting to catch you in a lie.
Maybe you did have a husband, somebody who came home earlier than you thought, unexpecting of a new man in your bed — except none of that was true, and he was merely making assumptions based off of the liquor that was clouding his mind.
THUMP!
Another sound, loud, coming from the kitchen. Your blood ran cold as you wondered if somebody had followed you home, or if maybe he had set you up. You were stupid to let a stranger in your home so late in the night with nothing but a few french fries and about six shots in your system.
You had no defense, no fight, no way out.
When the two of you came across the kitchen, the air stalled with silence.
You stared at the cabinets that were once closed, now hanging open as if somebody had been raiding through them.
The items on your counter, such as the fruit bowl that was merely for display (and to make yourself feel healthier) were turned over, apples and oranges spilled on to the floor. The paper towel holder was in the wrong spot. The knife holder was turned on its side with some of the blades threatening to slide out along the counter.
Your blood ran cold. Your feet remained frozen along the wooden floor, unable to move.
The man you took in seemed just as startled, if not more, suddenly appearing much more uncomfortable than before. He took a step back, eyes darting between you and the kitchen.
He seemed to have sobered up rather quickly.
“Are you messing with me?” he asked accusingly.
Your eyebrows raise and you quickly shake your head. “No, I swear—“
“Then what the hell is this?” He gestured to the kitchen, seeming frantic in his movements.
You opened your mouth to respond, sputtering over your words because truly, you had no fucking idea. You were just as scared as he was!
The mystery man wasted no time in storming back to your bedroom to grab his shirt and shove it over his head. You watched with a frown, not even finding the fact that the shirt being inside out was funny, too riddled with worry and concern at the horrible twist of the night.
You didn’t follow or chase. Hell, you didn’t know his name and he was just going on the list of forgotten faces you’d hooked up with in the past, so why should you care? Besides, you had bigger worries.
What the fuck was in your house?
It wasn’t a matter of who. It was a matter of what.
You knew now that something was truly strange about the home. There was a reason why it had been so cheap, and this was why. There was something living there.
You flinched as the door slammed, signaling that your hookup for the night was up and out of there without so much as a glance back. You shook with anxiety now that you were once again alone, hands twitching by your sides as you fought against grabbing your phone and asking Shoko to come back and spend the night.
You knew she was saddled up with somebody already. Hell, knowing her, it was probably more than one — regardless, she was definitely occupied.
You ran a hand down your face, staring at the destroyed kitchen.
You’re drunk, you thought. And extremely delusional.
Maybe the alcohol was bad? Or… maybe you were roofied?
You desperately tried coming up with any solution that could explain the abnormality that had transpired in your home, though, nothing made sense.
You didn’t quite know what to do with that information.
You dragged yourself to your bedroom, locking yourself in it and keeping the lamp on to flood the walls in a yellow warmth. Rather than linger and egg your paranoia on, you crawled into bed and forced yourself to try and sleep the drunkenness off.
At least with the light on, there were no shadows to taunt you into fear.
Though, the lamp didn’t stop the watchful eye from observing you as it always had since the day you moved in, concealed enough to where you didn’t notice it in time. If you had looked hard enough, you would see the glimmer of something that could only be mistaken for pride.
The morning after that whole ordeal, you walked into a kitchen that was… completely ordinary. It was as if nothing had happened, not a single thing out of its place.
You thought you were crazy, or that you really were roofied by the asshole that had left you to fend for yourself against a potential threat. Either way, you accepted either of those possibilities, hoping that it was something you could move on from and live peacefully.
Though, the strangeness continued.
You’d come home to a chair slightly pulled out and crooked, like somebody had sat there.
A book resting on the living room coffee table, unopened but with a small page corner tucked to hold its place.
Your closet door slightly cracked open, as if it had been carefully raided and looked through, though not a piece of fabric was ever moved too far out of place.
These things were so subtle, you were beginning to think you truly were just crazy. It caused you to backtrack your entire mornings, wondering if you were the one who had left the TV on, or forgot to turn the faucet off after brushing your teeth.
Over time, you’d come to accept it.
Maybe you really were doing these things, and for a while, you wondered if you needed to see a doctor. Memory issues were a big deal, and you were still so young. Maybe there was something wrong that you weren’t quite aware of yet that could only be found by visiting the doctor and getting a check up.
However, they found nothing wrong. In fact, you were incredibly healthy, as one should be at your age.
So, you went to another doctor.
Then another.
All told you how perfect you were in health, and it began to drive you a bit insane.
“Might I suggest a shrink?” the latest one had told you.
Some doctor in his sixties, one who didn’t seem all that concerned about your actual health and more so the state of your mentality, was the only honest one of the bunch, and the only one to tell you that perhaps your house was disturbed and it was affecting your peace.
Naturally, you followed his advice.
There was no harm and no foul in having a shrink come dissect your house and rid it of any negative energy being held in the walls and halls, right?
That was exactly how you ended up calling Shoko to ask for her friend, Suguru’s, number.
You remember him being a bit strange growing up, maybe even a bit deranged. There was always this eerie calm about him that unsettled most people, but really, he was just an incredibly spiritual person, something you’d come to learn as you got older and heard more about him in brief conversations.
He agreed to visit without hesitation when you reached out. A simple explanation through a short phone call was enough to have him requesting your address and letting you know a day he could come in the week. He was polite and kind over the phone, just like you remembered, and even more so in person when he arrived at your house a mere week later.
“Oh,” he said before he had even stepped foot in your home. “It’s quite… loud.”
“Loud?” you proclaimed, eyebrows shooting up. You glanced around your home from the doorway. Dead silence. “…Is it?”
“Very,” he murmured with a smile as if it didn’t phase him. “Can I come in?”
You fumbled to open the door wider, stepping to the side so he could shuffle in. His long, dark robes brushed by you as he entered, and you caught whiffs of something musky and earthy, like he’d kept herbs in his pockets.
The moment he fully entered the home and the door was shut, the air felt cold. It sent chills down your spine and goosebumps to rise along your arms. He hummed in what sounded like acknowledgement like he could feel the shift, too, and simply padded down the hallway like he’d been there a million times.
Suguru was always a welcome friend, so you simply followed behind, watching his back carefully as he took in… whatever it was he was looking for. You didn’t have a clue, really. You liked him, but there was no doubt that he was just as strange as the very house you stood in.
“So,” you said, breaking the focused silence. “Anything… weird?”
“Oh, certainly,” he hummed with a smile. “Definitely weird.”
“…Okay.” You stared at him while he observed the kitchen before continuing down the hall. “Like… bad weird? Good weird? I don’t really know what that means.”
“Mm.” He glanced back at you, shrugging. “Neither.”
You blinked, feeling your left eye twitch.
“Suguru.”
“Yes?”
“I’m going to throttle you.”
Suguru laughed lightly, completely dismissing your comment. He continued on until he stopped at your bedroom door, seemingly intrigued by whatever was hiding behind it.
His hand lifted to turn the knob, gently pushing open the door until it quietly knocked against the wall. Unsurprisingly, the room was empty, though his interest seemed to have peaked.
“Your room, I presume?” he asked.
You nodded.
“I don’t think it wants me to go in there,” he sighed, disappointed. “Quite a jealous one, you have.”
“I—“ You paused, bewildered. “I’m sorry?”
“The soul that’s attached to you,” he explained casually. “Or, more so, your house, I guess. I can sense a bit of hostility.”
Your heart raced as realization hit you. Sure, there was probably a really deep part of you that knew something sinister was going on, but you had spent so long forcing yourself to think that it was you that was the issue that now, hearing the truth out loud didn’t feel very believable.
Everything made sense now.
All those nights, thinking you weren’t alone in the house, suddenly clicked in your brain like a missing puzzle piece. You were right — you weren’t alone.
The night that you brought a man from the bar over and the kitchen wreaked havoc? It was whatever Suguru was referring to right now — this… this soul.
Stupid, cock-blocking, bitchless soul.
“Spirit would be a better term,” Suguru continued calmly. “Or, some may say ghost, though I think that’s a silly version. Spirit is much more suitable.”
“Right,” you muttered, staring at him. “Yeah. Okay. A spirit is haunting my home.”
“Correct.” He smiled bashfully.
“Like, right now.”
“Yes.”
“…Is it here?”
“He is watching, yes.”
You lifted your hands to press your palms into your eyes, rubbing them harshly and praying that it would make Suguru disappear and take the spirit with him.
“The spirit is a he,” you said dryly.
“He is,” Suguru said, smiling. “And he doesn’t like that I’m here.”
“Well that’s too damn bad for him,” you scowled, looking around the hallway as if you could find the ghost and make direct eye contact with him. Maybe throw a threatening glare and scare him off. “I want him gone.”
“Yeeeah, that’ll be quite difficult,” Suguru confessed, sighing and allowing his shoulders to drop in disappointment.
“What?” you squawked. “Shoko told me you were an expert at that sort of thing! Y’know, exorcising or whatever the hell it is. Getting rid of it!”
“I am,” he retorted smugly. “But your spirit’s a greedy little bastard. He’s stalked his claim on this house and on you. I fear exorcising won’t do much but piss him off.”
“So you can’t do anything?” you asked.
“I can’t do anything,” he mused. “But you can.”
This caught your attention.
Your eyebrows raised and you leaned in a bit closer, close enough to smell that earthy scent once more.
“I’ll do anything,” you pleaded, desperate for relief from the shackles this spirit had on you.
Suguru looked at you, really looked at you, and for the first time, he appeared almost pitiful. You didn’t like that.
“How open are you to spectrophilia?”
You froze. Looked bewildered. Stared for a long time.
“…What the hell is that?” you finally broke.
Suguru chuckled, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck sheepishly. “Apologies. I got ahead of myself,” he said politely. “What I meant to say was, how open are you having sex with a spirit?”
“Sex?”
“Yes.”
“You want me to fuck a ghost.”
“Not me,” he defended, raising his hands. “Him.”
“The ghost wants me to fuck him?”
“Spirit,” he corrected. “But yes. I suppose doing so may solve your problem.”
You couldn’t possibly fuck a ghost— or, spirit. There was no way. Shoko had to be pranking you, and Suguru definitely had to be a part of the plan.
However, when you looked at Suguru and the eerie calmness that exuded from him as he continued touring your home so freely, you couldn’t help but wonder if he was being serious. Surely, he wouldn’t drive all the way across town to visit your home with intentions to help you for a mere prank, right?
You were waiting for the ‘just kidding!’ or ‘ha, we got you good, bitch!’ but it never came, and you weren’t sure whether to feel relieved by that or terrified.
“So I fuck this… spirit,” you said slowly, Suguru smiling at your correct terminology, “and he’ll leave me alone?”
“Possibly,” he shrugged, tapping a finger on his chin. “Spirits like him are unpredictable. Possessive little things. He wants me gone.”
You swallowed, glancing around as if the spirit was going to come outright and reveal itself.
“Does it… have a name?” you asked hesitantly.
Suguru grinned.
As if on cue, a book fell from the shelf in the hall. It flopped to the ground with a thud. Then, another, until the entire bookshelf was toppling over in a heap of rage.
You watched in horror as the mess piled up, your poor books becoming the brunt of the spirit’s abuse.
“Toji,” Suguru said easily, completely unnerved by the display of abnormality. “And I believe that was his way of telling me to get out.”
Toji was certainly a dickhead of a spirit.
Ever since Suguru’s visit, he made sure to make his presence known in the most aggravating ways.
Hiding your underwear.
Spilling the last of your sugar on the floor so you couldn’t use it in your coffee.
Misplacing your keys to make you late for work.
He was a fucking asshole, even when he was dead. You hated him.
Once fearing the spirit, you had now come to despise him, quietly cursing at him under your breath every chance you got when you noticed he was up to no good. You didn’t even know what the fucker looked like, but you were sure he was an ugly, little mutant that resembled a rat more than a human.
On top of all the bullshit he was doing to your poor mental stability, he was also growing bold.
One too many nights, you’d woken in the midst of a deep sleep, heart racing as you shot up in bed because you swore you felt something touching you. A gentle graze on your ankle, or a light brush of your hair so it tickles your cheek.
Lately, though, you’ve woken up to featherlight touches to your upper thighs, as if he was testing the waters with how far he could go. Every night, they grew a bit bolder. Higher. More intense.
Sometimes, it’d scare you. Other times, it’d turn you on.
You were growing increasingly sexually frustrated the more you had to live with the stupid spirit, and he was making it incredibly hard to exist.
How could you enjoy your home when all you could think about was feeling his cold fingers finally break through the fabric of your sleeping shorts and slip along the slit of your weeping pussy?
How could you even fuck a ghost?
Was he, like… transparent? Or, invisible?
Would your hand pass through if you tried fisting his cock?
God, you needed help. It was ridiculous that you were even imagining these things. I mean, fucking a ghost? Seriously?
The pain of not getting laid was growing unbearable.
The last time you tried, your kitchen was torn apart and your date for the night had fled in fear without a care in the world for your own safety, all thanks to your no-good, unwelcome roommate.
You could always take your shot at the bar and try again, but every time you debated it, Suguru’s words kept flashing back in your mind.
“He’s stalked his claim on this house and on you.”
Cock-blocking motherfucker.
Even if you did try to get laid, Toji would make sure you wouldn’t even be able to get one leg out of your pants before he decided on smashing all of your nice plates in retaliation. Not only that, but he’d definitely scare off another date before they could so much as stick their dick in you.
Fuck him, and fuck this house.
It was your house now, not his, and you could stalk your claim, too.
Lying in your bed and staring at the ceiling, you knew he was somewhere lingering. Though you couldn’t see him, you had a great sixth sense of his presence now, even if he wasn’t directly in the room. The bastard was always two steps behind you, no matter where you went.
Good. That meant he could sit there and watch.
Your fingers tapped lightly along your stomach as you shifted on your back to get comfortable. Without even properly touching yourself, you could feel how wound up you were, all the built up tension pulling in a tight coil until you were taut and tight.
It made the night all the more exciting.
Slowly, you slid one of your hands up your side, stopping below your breast. Your fingers brushed lightly against your soft skin, nipples already perking up in interest.
The room felt colder, a good sign that Toji had slithered his way into your room somewhere like the creep he was, watching as two of your fingers pinched at your sensitive nipple.
The sensation caused your mouth to part, a quiet gasp sucking into your lungs. Warmth pulled between your legs in a near instant, thighs instinctively pressing together.
You tugged on the poor bud, writhing lightly against your sheets. You carelessly pushed your shirt higher up so it rested under your chin, tits on full display, and slid your other hand up so you could grab a handful of your other breast, rolling your nipple between your fingers.
Your throat produced quiet, little sounds that were more breathy than anything, but it was enough to disturb the aching silence in your bedroom.
You let your back arch into your own touch, releasing one of your breasts to slide it down your stomach until it settled between your legs. You could practically feel the heat coming off of you, and you only confirmed that warmth when your fingers gently swiped through your own slick, coating your skin.
You were soaked, more soaked than you could ever recall being before, even with a dick to salivate over in the past. God, it was almost too easy to glide your fingers up your slit, teasing your entrance before coming up to roll taunting circles over your neglected clit.
A broken sound left you, your back arching deeper as your hips bucked up to meet your own teasing fingers. Your clit was so sensitive, but you pushed through the stimulation and continued circling it at a quick pace until you were a whining mess.
Finally, you were getting relief from the pent up frustration that threatened to snap in your body everyday. It was like a dam preparing to crack and break, ready to release a full gush of rushing waters for sweet, sweet relief.
You needed more, craved more. Now that you were getting a fix, your body was being greedy, ready to suck in your fingers and have you fuck them in and out until you were in tears.
Except, when you dipped your fingers lower, daring to slip them into your waiting entrance, a force stopped you. Something wrapped around your wrist, successfully holding you back from being able to curl your fingers in deep and press along your gummy walls.
Your blood ran cold, and you instantly froze, eyes snapping open to sneak a look.
Once you saw, you wished you would’ve just kept them closed. Hell, you wished you didn’t even tease Toji by putting on a show for him, for the man in front of you was unlike anything you imagined.
Not to mention, he was not transparent. He looked… real. There was no translucent skin like you’d seen in movies. He wasn’t floating like Casper, and his legs didn’t curl ridiculously into a strange blob. He looked completely normal and felt completely normal apart from how cold his touch was.
“The hell you think you’re doin’?” he asked, and you felt the wind knock from your chest at the sound.
For so long, it’d been just you in the house, your voice being the only one to fill an empty void. Your presence was all you knew apart from Toji’s lingering chill that crept through the house like a stalking predator, but this? This was new. Scary.
Exciting.
“W-Who—“
“You know who I am,” he muttered lowly, dark eyes glowering down at you. “Don’t act dumb.”
“Toji?”
“Yeees?”
Your mouth fell open when his hand that wasn’t holding your wrist slipped between your legs. He didn’t give you a single warning before two of his freezing fingers slid into your aching cunt, causing you to whine out pathetically.
“Stupid girl,” he scoffed, eyes dropping down to watch as his fingers invaded your pussy, pulling out to slam back in with a nasty squelch. “Thought you could tease me in my house and expect me not to do nothin’? Look at you now.”
His fingers set a brutal pace, one that had you squirming against the sheets. You let out pathetic noises, unable to contain how good he was making you feel. The coil that was wound so tightly inside was finally beginning to unravel.
“This what you wanted, huh?” he asked tauntingly. He grinned down at you, grabbing your face with his free hand to force you to look at him. “Just wanted somebody to fuck this pussy dumb.”
You cried, arching into his touch, hips lifting off the bed in an attempt to ride against his fingers that were spearing into you. He gave you what you wanted, slipping a third finger in and fucking them into you harder.
“Yeeeah,” he chuckled darkly before leaning down to spit on your pussy. Oh, he was nasty. “She’s already takin’ me so well and it ain’t even my cock yet.”
“T-Toji—“ you tried, voice cutting off to moan when he curled his fingers up. It left you dumb, mouth dropping open, eyes fighting to stay open.
“Been waitin’ to hear you say my name, doll,” he breathed out through a heavy sigh. “Fuuuck, sounds even better out loud. Say it again.”
You yelped when he slid down to press his mouth against your clit, tongue lolling out to lick a fat stripe along the sensitive nub. With his fingers still abusing your poor hole, he buried his face into your clit, suctioning his mouth around it and suckling until you felt tears brimming your waterline.
“Toji!” you cried, and he hummed in approval right up against your clit, causing you to jolt.
One of his arms came to wrap around your thigh, his hand slipping up to press against your stomach and hold you down in place. Your hips fought against his hold, attempting to squirm away from the stimulation he had against your clit as well as the fingers being bullied into you, but it was no use.
He had you exactly where he wanted you, and the only thing you could do was take it.
“God,” he moaned against you, “haven’t had pussy this good in fuckin’ ages.”
You leaned up on your elbows, peering down at the mess he was making of himself. Dark hair mussed up, his face covered in your slick, eyes half lidded like he was drunk off your pussy.
He looked absolutely wrecked and it only caused you to tighten around his fingers as your stomach coiled with heat.
“C’mon, baby,” he pleaded, his eyes lifting up just enough to gaze at you. His pupils were blown and his lids heavy. “Come all over my fuckin’ face. Give it to me.”
He went back to sloppily sucking your clit and ramming his thick fingers inside of you until you couldn’t take it anymore. Your body broke apart of its own, shattering around him as you gushed around his digits, body tensing and arching.
Your cries filled the room as you shuddered through the aftershocks, his fingers unwavering in their pace until you had to press a palm against his forehead and shove him away.
“F-Fuck, Toji, gimme a break—“
“No,” he muttered dryly like your overstimulation was a hindrance to him.
He stood back up, spreading apart his fingers that were once inside of you, taking in the sticky slick that coated them. He practically grinned in pride at the sight.
“We’re not done,” he said, reaching down to slide a large hand up your stomach and to your breast where he pinched one of your nipples, causing you to yelp. “Been waiting for this pussy for a long fuckin’ time. Tried getting your attention for months and you still didn’t take the hint.”
His hand left your body, and you nearly whined at the loss of contact. Instead, he began reaching for his trousers, undoing the buttons and popping them until he could slide the material down his legs without a single care.
Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head at the sight of his cock, heavy and leaking, so hefty it struggled to hold itself up. You gawked, unable to take your eyes off of it as he began stroking it.
“Look at you,” he cooed, tilting his head as he stared greedily. “Needy fuckin’ thing. So fuckin’ touch starved you had to resort to doing it yourself.”
“Shut up,” you muttered weakly, feeling yourself grow embarrassed at how easy you’d been.
“Don’t order me around in my house,” he gruffed, curling his lip up in distaste. His hand continued stroking himself while the other leaned down to glide a thumb over your clit.
You jolted in surprise, legs snapping shut around his forearm. He paid no mind, continuing to stroke against your sensitive bud.
“You’ve got nerve, girl,” he said lowly, staring down at you with a look that could kill.
You weren’t sure whether or not to be scared or to grind against his hand.
“Bringin’ men into my house,” he spat. “Lettin’ them hang around what’s mine.”
“This is—fuck—my house, Toji,” you retorted, though your voice came out wrecked.
“Like hell it is,” he sneered, grinning maliciously down at you. “Last I checked, this house is still mine.”
His hand trailed lower along your pussy, slipping back into your greedy hole as you took him in so easily.
“This pussy is mine. Everything in this house is mine.”
You cried out his name when he began fucking you open on his fingers again. You threw your head back, eyes squeezing shut as he curled deliciously into your g-spot, making you see stars behind your eyelids.
“You got that, girl?”
When you didn’t answer, too fucked out to form a response, you nearly yelled out in both shock and ecstasy when you felt the tip of his cock slip in past your tight ring. It stung, though he didn’t seem to care, simply pushing himself in slowly, dragging himself along your walls.
“I asked you a fuckin’ question.”
“Yes!” you cried, fingernails digging into his forearms to ground yourself as he split you open on his dick.
It was unnerving how big he was, both in body and cock, and you felt like your body was being broken and stretched to accommodate his jarring size.
“These—“ he grabbed a handful of your breasts, “—are mine.”
His hands slipped down to your sides, groping and digging his fingertips into your fat. “Mine.”
He bottomed out, balls pressed against your pussy, dick completely stretching you dumb. You could barely even process anything, your brain shutting off with nothing but the feeling of his cock and the way he was talking to you occupying it.
“And her?” He laughed darkly, gathering spit on his tongue to let it drip on to your poor clit, watching as it slipped down to where his cock was splitting you open. “Mine.”
You had no warning before he pulled out to the hilt and slammed back in, causing your entire body to jolt upward. His pace began as brutal, unwilling to give you even an ounce of gentleness. No, this was built up tension that he was letting out on you.
This was the claim he had marked you with since the day you moved in. This was the claim Suguru told you about, one that egged Toji into a greedy possessiveness, scaring away anybody who dared try to enter his home and take his woman.
He may have been dead, but he knew how to keep a pretty pussy happy. This was his for the taking, and he was going to savor every single moment of being sucked into you until he had nothing left to give you.
“I think she likes that,” he purred cockily, staring down at your sopping cunt as it sucked him in and clung to him in a vice. He wasn’t talking to you, no — he was talking to your pussy like the nasty fuck he was. “Can feel her squeezin’ around me like she doesn’t want me to leave.”
His hands came to rest on your hips, gripping them until your skin was dimpled. He lifted your hips until he could press you flush against his abdomen, reeling back just to surge forward again, slamming into you so hard, the room filled with the filthy sound of skin on skin.
Suguru was wrong.
Fucking Toji wasn’t going to resolve the issue. It wasn’t going to satisfy Toji enough to where he got some good pussy and dipped out into the afterlife.
Toji would rather die again than ever pull his cock out of you. Your cunt was so sweet and pliant, taking him like it was made for him, molding around him perfectly.
He’d be a stupid son of a bitch to ever pick the afterlife over this. This was his afterlife. This was him moving on to peace and serenity.
Heaven couldn’t compare to this. It could never be so fuckin’ wet for him.
He could die all over again simply from how beautifully you were gripping his cock.
“Ohhh, you made a mistake movin’ in here, sweetheart,” he huffed breathlessly, sweat dripping down to his brow. His eyes remained fixated on where your bodies connected like he couldn’t look away. “Never gonna let you leave. Can’t let you go when she’s fuckin’ made for me.”
Your body bounced along like a ragdoll, the sheets furling underneath you in a mess. You were fucked absolutely stupid on his cock, drool pooling in the corner of your mouth, eyes glazed over with a heavy mist. There was absolutely no hope for you, not when you were so desperate to keep that cock in you for as long as the universe allowed.
You were addicted. You’d never move out of that damn house. They’d have to drag you to the very pits of hell to keep you away from Toji.
And as you came for the second time on his cock, feeling his own seed (which, hey, how the fuck did ghosts even have functioning cum?) shoot into the walls of your womb, painting them a nasty white, you didn’t have a single ounce of regret.
Not even when he picked up the pace again.
Not even when hours later, you were completely spent and covered in his cum, leaking messily on the bed.
And now, as you laid there while he sweetly cleaned you up, suddenly murmuring soft things into your skin, you kind of hoped Suguru was wrong and that Toji wouldn’t leave the home and move on to bigger and better things now that he was done with you.
But oh, Toji wouldn’t dare.
Heaven could suck his dick.
Nothing would ever compare to the new lady of his home, and he’d be damned if the Grim Reaper himself tried to steal him away from you and that heavenly pussy of yours.
Sevika finishes inside you and you’re both idiots—panicking instead of getting birth control.
content tags ; g!p sevika , exes to lovers , small age gap (you’re in your thirties and she’s in her forties) , there’s a lot of feelings , constant banter , aftercare , lots of tension and kissing but you both keep saying you hate each other , rubbing each other through clothes , smut implied , slightly smutty , light angst , hurt-comfort
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(art cred : fenkyuo on x) ⤷ part one
“What the fuck, Sev?”
“Fuck.”
She quickly pulled out, standing and giving you space to get off the bed. You looked between your thighs and back at Sevika.
“Can you give me a—?”
“Yeah,” she reached for a box of tissues, taking several out at once for you. You wiped yourself clean. “You think you can push it out?” she asked.
“I don’t know…”
“Do you wanna go to the bathroom and try?”
“Yeah… I should probably. I don’t know — I don’t know what to do, Sev, I’m not ready for another kid, I’m—”
“Hey, hey, hey,” she wrapped her arms around you, bringing you to sit back down on the bed.
You couldn’t help the tears that blurred your vision and rolled down your face, as you broke down crying.
“I don’t know what to do.”
“You don’t always have to, we’re in this together.”
“We’re not even together, Sevika. It doesn’t work like that.”
“Then, we’ll do it our own way, but whatever happens, we can handle it.”
“What “we”? There is no “we”, Sev… We’re broken up.”
That made Sevika shut up. Not because she was hurt or offended, but because it was just occurring to her that if Mira wasn’t enough to constantly make you two face situations where you both had to rely on each other… another kid would only add to that load.
You weren’t all that well-off as Sevika was.
That’s why she got custody of Mira in the first place.
You couldn’t afford getting pregnant. She knew it. She didn’t know how to help though.
It was a little weird — an ex-girlfriend helping the other get through a pregnancy where the kid is hers to begin with… she wanted to be a part of the journey without crowding your space. She didn’t know if you even wanted her back.
“Maybe we should think about this later,” she finally said.
“Are you fucking hearing yourself—?”
“I know what I’m saying,” Sevika said firmly. “But panicking isn’t gonna solve shit. Just… head in the shower and — and we’ll talk about shit later.”
“Yeah…” You looked away for a second, quiet. “Can you join me in the shower?”
Sevika looked genuinely taken aback by that request. “Me? Why?”
“I don’t wanna be alone…”
“...”
She didn’t say anything, but she did follow you to the bathroom. You sat in the filled bathtub, legs drawn up to your chest. Sevika joined you.
“I can’t afford this.” You mumbled into your knees.
“I know,” she leaned against the tiled wall, “you can… move in with me if you want. Mira would love to have you around.”
You sighed, “Sev…”
“Yeah… I know we’re… y’know…”
“Mhm, it would be weird.”
“What would be weird is having the mother of my child struggle with bills and I do nothing about it,” Sevika said, moving closer, “please, think about this.”
You stared at nothing, “I guess I’ll have to…”
Sevika didn’t speak for a while, but then she asked, “hey…”
“Hmm?”
“Why’d you start implying that I’d missed you, and all that before… it happened?”
Your cheeks went red.
“I was… I was bluffing. I was—um—I was hoping that maybe you did… miss me, I guess.”
“You could’ve just said that,” Sevika said softly, “I wouldn’t have put you down for it.”
“Really?” You looked at the water quietly, “it kinda felt like you would. Especially since… you did get custody and all. I’ve got nothing.”
“You have Mira.”
“What do you mean?” You looked at her.
Sevika took your hand in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze, “maybe she lives with me, maybe I pay her expenses. But that doesn’t make her any less of your daughter.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
The bath was mostly quiet after that, the smell of lavender lingering in the air as you both let thoughts about the potential future cloud your brains. Sevika was the first to stand and get out of the bathtub, and soon, you followed after.
She handed you a fresh towel to dry yourself off as she dried herself, wrapping the towel around her waist and she grabbed the one you were using—kneeling in front of you, she dried your legs. You blushed faintly, but tried not to let it show as she cared for you.
Maybe this was because you just had sex with her.
Sevika had always been like this when you both were together. After sex, she’d always kneel down and make sure your legs and nether regions aren’t damp anymore and she’d clean you out with utmost care. After she was done, she got up.
“Can you walk?”
“Yeah… a little.”
“Good.”
Nevertheless, she slid a hand under your knees and the other around your back—earning an almost meek gasp from you when she picked you up bridal style, taking you back to the bedroom.
“Sevika! You can’t just pick me up whenever and—!”
“Oh yeah?” She smirked, “what’re y’gonna do about it?”
You rolled your eyes. “You’re impossible.”
“You love that about me.”
“... You’re lucky I do.”
She laid you in bed and tossed one of her oversized shirts at you. You put it on and waited for Sevika to get dressed in nothing but pajamas shorts before she climbed into bed with you.
“You okay sleepin’ in the same bed?” She asked.
You rolled to your side, facing her, “mmm, would it make much difference after you just came inside me?”
Sevika’s cheeks developed a faint red hue, “when you say it like that…”
She pulled the blanket over both of you, making sure you’re properly tucked in and cozy. You closed your eyes and buried your face in the crook of Sevika’s neck as she turned the light off, engulfing both of you into darkness. You felt a strong arm wrap itself around your body and tug you closer.
You giggled softly, “I like this.”
Sevika chuckled low in her throat and pressed a kiss to your forehead, “okay… good. Now get some rest.”
“Goodnight, Sev...”
“Goodnight, angel.”
The next morning arrived with chaos, you both didn’t set any alarms and woke up to the chirping of birds outside the window. Sevika sprang to her feet first. You were still groggy, rolling onto your stomach as you kept sleeping.
“Up, up! Get up! You’re late, I’m late!” She said, giving your dead-as-a-log body a careless shove that almost made you roll off the bed and on the floor.
“Mmmmngh?” You lazily picked your phone up, turning the screen on.
The numbers 8:57 AM stared back at you mockingly.
“Shit!”
You got up, the blanket tangled around your torso and you almost toppled over—bumping into Sevika’s rather rock-hard body.
“You okay!?”
“Yeah, I’m fine…” you said, detangling yourself and quickly jumping to your feet.
The morning was hectic. Sevika made breakfast in such a rush she burnt toast, but even through it all she made sure Mira was well-fed.
“She has school and—” Sevika began.
“Hey,” you gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, “I can take over. I’ll drop her off to school, you focus on getting to work in time.”
Sevika spared you a grateful glance before she quickly plated eggs and pancakes for Mira. She placed a quick kiss to her forehead before rushing away to get dressed for work. You watched with a small smile, taking sip from the coffee she’d made you. Somehow, she remembered exactly how you liked your coffee.
“I like it when both my mommies are around,” Mira chirped.
“Aw,” you laid your hand on her hand, running your hand down Mira’s head, “I’m glad you’re having fun, sweetie.”
“Can we all watch a movie tonight?”
“Mmm, but it’s a night before school.”
Mira pouted. “But mommy, you both are barely ever around together.”
You smiled and sat beside her, “okay, but we’ll have to watch it right after dinner, okay? You gotta get to bed soon after, and you promise you’ll sleep right after we watch the movie?”
“Yes!” She grinned.
“Good girl.”
Later that day, Sevika got back from work smelling faintly of sweat and smoke. She definitely had been smoking in her car before coming inside so Mira wouldn’t see her smoking. When she stumbled inside, tired, Mira greeted her.
“I missed you, mama!” She hugged Sevika’s legs tightly.
Sevika chuckled, “hey, sweetie.”
“Hi!” She grinned wide, “I made a beautiful drawing of us in art class today!”
“Yeah? Did mommy put it up on the fridge?”
“Mhm!”
“Good,” she closed the door behind herself.
Mira hopped back to her room, fingers slightly smudged with crayons she was still drawing with. The messily stick figured drawing paper was stuck to the fridge with a magnet, you’d put it up when you picked her up from school after work.
“Dinner’s almost ready,” you said from the kitchen.
Sevika raised a brow, “you’re cookin’?”
You rolled your eyes, “don’t get used to it.”
“You really didn’t have to.”
“But I did,” you mumbled, “I’m sure you’re tired after work.”
“So are you.”
“Yeah, but I don’t work as long hours as you do, Sev.”
“Hours don’t define tiredness…”
“Mmm, shut up and taste this,” you said, letting her taste test the soup.
She paused for a second, letting it sit on her tongue for a little bit.
“Oh, that’s good.”
“I know,” you giggled, “go wash up. You smell.”
“Gee, thank you.”
“I’m not sayin’ I hate it.”
Sevika wrapped both arms around your waist slowly, running her hands up and down your torso.
“Hey… stop, Mira’s gonna see us,” you said, but you didn’t bother pushing her away. You liked her hands on you.
“Mhm? You wanna join me in shower?”
“Mmm, how about no? Someone’s gotta watch Mira.”
Sevika pouted into your neck, pressing long kiss into the warm curve of it, “okay… I won’t be long.”
“Oh, please, take your time,” you said sarcastically.
“So mean…”
—
The movie played in the background, something with a lot of colors and movements to keep Mira interested. Her big grey eyes wandered along the screen as she remained snuggled in the softest throw blanket, right between you and Sevika.
Sevika was almost asleep, dozing off every few minutes which you found rather entertaining. After the movie ended, you put Mira to sleep, tucking her in and kissing her goodnight.
When you walked out of her room, slowly shutting the door noiselessly—Sevika beckoned you over back to the couch.
“What?”
Sevika held the end of the blanket up. “Join me.”
You hesitated but then joined her underneath it, slipping close by to feel her warm body.
“You’ve been really helpful today.”
“I know.” You smiled, feeling her arm snaking around your waist.
“I like havin’ y’around. Mira does too…”
“I know…”
Her hand made its way between your legs, pulling you halfway over her lap.
“You’re warm,” you whispered.
“Is it comfortable at least?”
“Mhm… don’t let go.”
Her fingers found your clothed pussy, rubbing it up and down slowly. Almost teasingly.
“You can’t keep your hands to yourself, can you?” You huffed softly.
“... How am I supposed to when you look so good?”
You blushed, squirming closer and letting your legs open a little more to allow her more movement. Her hand worked diligently, rubbing you faster as she searched for your clit—quickly finding it, she targeted it—rubbing teasing circles right over it.
“Oh…! Ngh…” you buried your face in her chest as she kept going.
“Mmm? Does that feel good my pretty girl?”
“Yeah, it feels so good…”
You felt Sevika’s hard-on against your hand. Intentionally, you rubbed it through her pants, grinning when you heard her groaning under her breath.
you can pretend you don't see him glaring at you across the room when you're talking with someone else, act nonchalant as if he's not right there.
but don't beg for mercy when he puts you in a headlock and gives you the meanest fuck of your life.
he squeezes hard, not enough to choke but hard enough to serve as a warning, cock practically balls-deep inside you, he starts thrusting hard. the snap of his hips goes at a rapid pace, member pumping in and out of you obscenely.
"fuck—!" you mumble. "i'm sorry, toji!"
"are you?" he asks, still drilling you rough with his cock, legs starting to tremble from the pleasure. "i could see you actin' like i wasn't there."
"ngh— i know— you were," you babble in between moans.
he grunts. "but you're mine. y'know that right?"
he sends a few more firm thrusts before stopping, a twitch of his hips followed by a thick load of fresh cum shooting inside of you. he stops for a while, letting his essence sit inside you before he picks up the pace again.
and he's not going to be as nice in the second round.
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fem!toji fushiguro x reader
you never cared about your bum ass roommate and his terrible flirting except when he comes back one day looking like the most beautiful woman you've ever seen ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ
cw: mdni, oral sex, fingering, scissoring, big clit!toji
You slammed the apartment door a little harder than necessary after another long day, tossing your keys onto the rickety table by the entrance. Toji was already sprawled on the couch like he owned the place, which, technically, he did half of. His stupidly ripped arms were stretched out along the back cushions and he smiled wide the second he spotted you.
"Hey, roomieee. Miss me?" he drawled.
You rolled your eyes. "No. Did you even bother with the dishes like I asked?"
He chuckled. "Nah. Figured you'd come home and handle it. Either, I'm leaving now for a job." He got up from the couch, leaving his beer in the table, on his way of taking his jacket
"I didn't ask." That made him laugh again.
God, he was the worst. Toji had been your roommate for months now, and every single day was the same routine. Flirty comments, lingering stares, brushing past you in the kitchen way too close. You hated how full of himself he is. Of course he's way too hot for his own good, but you can't find him attractive at all. So ignoring him was your best defense.
You headed straight to your room without another word, shutting the door firmly behind you. Peace, finally.
That peace lasted until around midnight.
A loud thud from the living room jerked you awake. You sat up in bed, heart pounding and grabbed the nearest thing that could pass as a weapon, which happened to be your heavy lamp. Creeping out, you flicked on the light and froze.
There, standing in the middle of the room, was… a woman. Tall, insanely strong-looking, with the same sharp green eyes and messy dark hair, but everything else was different. Curves that filled out what used to be Toji's shirt in ways that made your brain short-circuit. Broad shoulders still, powerful arms, but softer features, full lips and a figure that screamed dangerous beauty. She looked like Toji if someone had remade him into the most stunning woman you'd ever seen.
"What the actual hell?" you whispered.
The woman rubbed the back of her neck, looking equal parts pissed and sheepish. Her voice was still deep but smoother, with a feminine lilt that sent an unexpected shiver down your spine.
"Don't laugh now, I'm the one freaking out."
"Toji, do you do drag? Is that why you work at night?" you teased him, knowing damn well that's not what he did, but the look on his face was enough for your entertainment.
"No, I don't!" he said, rolling his eyes. "Even if I did, I wouldn't appear in the living room in full drag, you dumbass."
You lowered the lamp slowly, stepping closer without thinking. Toji… she… whatever, looked even more striking up close. The way the shirt clung to her chest, you wonder how her boobs might look behind it, the subtle flex of muscle under smooth skin. Your usual irritation disappeared because she was too hot to be mad at her.
"So that's really you, hm..." You circled her once, eyes wide. "Holy shit. You look… I mean, damn."
She raised an eyebrow, sensing something predatory in your eyes. "You're staring. Thought you hated me."
"I do," you shot back, but your voice lacked its usual bite. You stopped right in front of her, close enough to catch the faint scent of sweat and whatever cologne he always wore. "That doesn't mean that you don't look hot as fuck.How does it feel?"
Toji let out a low laugh, crossing her arms under her chest in a way that did not help your focus. "Weird as hell. Balance is off a bit and my... pecs?"
"Breasts. Definitely breasts."
"I don't know how to feel about calling them breasts. They're heavy as fuck."
That's soooo sad. You felt heat creep up your neck, but instead of backing off like usual, you reached out and lightly touched her arm. The muscle was rock hard under your fingers. "Were you always this jacked?"
You look up at her, battling your eyelashes as you hand was fully palming her bicep, pressing it down with your fingers.
"Yes! I've been working out, you know that!" she exclaims, still not understand why you are suddenly so interested in her.
"Hm..." you nod slowly, now wrapping your hand against her wrist. "Let's sit down."
You pull her down on the couch, your thighs pressing together as you keep palming her arm because you cannot stop yourself from touching her. You're waiting for the perfect opportunity to just jump on her and eat her alive.
"How long are you stay like this?" you ask, praying it's forever.
"A few days. A week at most," she tells you, crossing her legs and turning her body so she's fully facing you. Her legs are covered by her sweatpants but you bet she also has the juiciest and strongest thighs ever.
"Oh..." you mumble, looking down a bit sad.
Your fingers trailed up her bicep slowly, feeling the definition there. It was fun, watching her try to keep the attitude while her eyes darkened a little.
"It doesn't hurt, right?" You tilted your head, voice dropping softer.
"No, no," Toji huffs a laugh, her full lips parting. She glances down at your hand on her arm. "You've never touched me this much."
You laugh, heat flooding your face. "Well, you've never looked this hot."
She was the one laughing now, breaking eye contact and even looking flustered. This was ridiculous and thrilling all at once. The guy you'd been dodging for months was now this gorgeous woman standing in your living room and suddenly ignoring her was the last thing on your mind.
"Aren't you curious?" you ask her, now tickling the back of her neck.
"About what?" She blinks, eyebrows furrowing just a little.
"About how some things feel. If I get turned into a man the first thing I would do is find someone to give me a blowjob."
"Oh wow, okay."
"So?" You were still expecting her answer.
You watch her face carefully, your heart hammering against your ribs, Toji shifts on the couch, powerful thighs pressing together under the soft fabric of her sweatpants. Her cheeks have this faint flush now, making her look less intimidating.
"Yeah… maybe," she mutters after a long pause, her voice lower than before. She uncrosses her legs and leans forward a bit, dark green eyes flicking over your face searching for any sign that you're joking. "Being eaten out or whatever. Scissoring, too, if that shit works."
Your pulse spikes. You don't even hesitate. "I could help you with that," you say, voice coming out breathy and eager. "If you want. I'd make it feel really good, Toji."
She stares at you for a second, lips parted. Then a challenging smirk tugs at the corner of her mouth. "You serious, roomie? Alright. Show me what you got."
You stand up so fast, grabbing her hand and tugging her toward your bedroom. Her palm is a little rough, bigger than yours even now. The walk down the short hallway feels electric, every step making your skin tingle with anticipation.
"God, you're gorgeous," you whisper, fingers tracing the curve of her waist.
She lets you push her down onto the mattress, and the way her body sinks into it, all that muscle and softness, makes your mouth water. You climb over her, straddling one of her thick thighs as you lean down to kiss her neck.
Toji exhales sharply when your lips brush her collarbone. "Don't get all sappy on me," she grumbles, but her hand comes up to rest on your back anyway.
You smile against her skin and trail kisses lower, pushing up the hem of her shirt. Her tits spill out as you tug the fabric over her head, full and heavy, nipples already pebbled in the cool air.
"These are perfect," you whisper, cupping one in your hand, feeling the weight of it. You squeeze gently, then lean in to drag your tongue over the stiff peak. She tastes clean and a little salty, the soft groan she makes vibrates through her chest.
"Fuck… that feels weird," she breathes, but her back arches, pushing more of her breast into your mouth.
You suck harder, swirling your tongue around the nipple while your fingers play with the other one, pinching and rolling until she's squirming beneath you. Her thighs clench around your leg, you can feel the heat building between them even through her pants.
You spend a long time there, worshipping every inch of her chest. Licking slow circles, nipping lightly with your teeth just to hear her hiss, then soothing it with open-mouthed kisses. Her breathing gets heavier, little sounds slipping out that she tries to swallow back.
Eventually you slide lower, kissing down her stomach, feeling the faint ridges of muscle under the softer layer. You hook your fingers into her sweatpants and panties, peeling them down her strong legs. Her thighs are everything you imagined, thick and powerful, skin smooth where it counts. And between them… god. Her pussy is glistening already, lips puffy and flushed, with a big and swollen clit peeking out at the top. She's tight, you can tell just from looking, the entrance small and inviting.
"Look at you," you say softly, spreading her legs wider and settling between them. You press a kiss to the inside of one thigh, then the other, breathing in her musky scent. "So wet already."
"Shut up," she mutters, but her voice cracks a bit.
You tease her first, because you can't help it. You kiss everywhere but where she wants it most, dragging your tongue along her inner thighs, nipping at the sensitive skin. Your fingers trace light circles around her clit without touching it, watching her hips twitch.
"You like that?" you ask, voice muffled against her skin.
Toji growls low. "Stop fucking teasing and do it."
You grin and finally give in, flattening your tongue and licking a long, slow stripe up her slit. She tastes tangy and addictive. Her whole body jolts. You do it again, savoring the way her juices coat your tongue, then focus on her big clit. You circle it lightly at first, teasing the sensitive bud with the tip of your tongue before flicking it gently.
"Oh shit," she gasps, thighs tensing around your head.
"Breath, pretty," you remind her.
She's so tight you can barely push a finger inside at first, her walls gripping you as you slide it in slowly. You curl it upward while your mouth works her clit, sucking softly then harder, alternating between licks and gentle nibbles.
You keep teasing her the whole time, pulling back to blow cool air on her wet folds just to watch her shiver, then diving back in with more pressure.
"You taste so good, Toji," you mumble against her. "You gonna come for me?"
She tries to stay cool, biting her lip hard, but her hips start rocking against your face. "Nngh fuck, you're… good at this," she admits, voice shaky. Her free hand tangles in your hair, not quite pushing but definitely holding you there.
You add a second finger, stretching her carefully since she's so tight, pumping them in and out while your tongue dances over her clit faster. The sounds are obscene, wet and slick, mixed with her growing moans. She tries to keep quiet at first, but soon she's whining, little desperate noises spilling out as her cool facade cracks completely.
"Right there… d-don't stop, you little shit," she pants, legs shaking. Her clit throbs under your tongue, you tickle it with rapid flicks until her back bows off the bed.
When she comes, it's loud and messy, her pussy clenching hard around your fingers as she floods your mouth. You keep licking her through it, gentler now, until she tugs you up by the hair.
"Enough… holy fuck," she gasps, chest heaving. Her face is flushed deep red, she looks wrecked already and you haven't even gotten to the scissoring yet.
You wipe your chin with the back of your hand and crawl up to kiss her, letting her taste herself on your lips. She kisses back hungrily, hands roaming your body.
"We're not done, baby," you whisper, pulling off your own clothes quickly.
You position yourselves carefully, legs tangled, pussies pressing together. The first slide of her hot, slick folds against yours makes you both moan. She's still sensitive from coming, so when you start grinding, rolling your hips so your clits catch against each other, she jerks.
"Ah… that's… nghh intense," she groans, but she grabs your thigh and pulls you closer, matching your rhythm.
The friction is perfect, wet and slippery, you can feel every little twitch of her body, the way her strong thighs flex as she rocks against you. Her clit grazes with your perfectly, your pussy lips kissing as you take control over her once again.
You reach down to hold her hip, guiding her movements. "God, Toji, you're so fucking hot like this."
Your voices mix in breathy moans and whines. She tries to keep some control, muttering curses under her breath, but soon she's a total mess. Her head falls back, full tits bouncing with each grind, nipples hard and begging for attention again.
"Shiit, ah! H-how are you soooo good at this?" she whines, voice cracking as she grinds harder, chasing the feeling.
"Don't you worry your pretty head about that, baby," you tell her, giving her left tit a rough squeeze before picking up your pace.
Her desperation makes you even wetter. You speed up, the slick sounds filling the room along with her growing whimpers. She's trembling, fingers digging into your skin as another orgasm builds fast. You lean forward, sucking on one of her tits while you keep scissoring,
Toji comes with a broken moan, body shaking hard against yours. Her pussy pulses, flooding warmth between you, the feeling drags you right over with her. You collapse together in a sweaty, sticky tangle, both breathing hard.
She stares at the ceiling for a minute, then turns to you looking a little bit shy. "That was way better than I thought it'd be. You really know what you're doing down there."
You laugh softly, tracing a finger along her arm. "Told you I'd help. How long did you say you're staying like this again?"
She smirks, pulling you closer. "Long enough for round two, probably."
THREE DAYS LATER
You were sure you fell asleep with Toji's big and beautiful breast inside your mouth after a long session of sucking them in her lap while she played with your pussy, but when you wake up, your mouth is empty. Still, you can feel her arm under your head as a pillow and the warmth of her body.
You rub your eyes, yawning and stretching as you sit up a little. When you finally get to see clearly, your face fills with horror.
Toji is back to normal.
No beautiful breasts, no gentle and soft curves, NO PUSSY. That was the best pussy you've ever tasted in years, what are you going to do without it?
"Toji!" you say, voice higher than you mean it.
He blinks his eyes open, staring at you with his eyebrows furrowed. "Huh?"
"Get out."
"What?"
"GET OUT, YOU HAVE A DICK AGAIN."
a/n: a little warm up before i start writing my long femtoji fic
Big dick Sheriff Toji interrogates tight pussy bandit ᥫ᭡
18+ MDNI
Tags: Toji is a big dick menace that knows how to use it, big stretch, CNC (kinda), mean Toji ofc
#div cred @bbyg4rlhelps
“I’ll- I’ll never t-tell you.” You protested. The tip threatens your entrance. The big, mean sheriff was interested in knowing where your crew of bandits was hiding.
Sheriff Toji was willing to do anything to find them. Even use unethical interrogation methods…
"I'm sick of being nice to you bitch. Treating you better than you deserve. Treating you as if you were some diligent woman. You're a fucking thug!" Toji grits his teeth. This was out of character for him.
Sure, he had a rough past, but now he was a gentleman. A gentleman who never talked to women in such a manner. Not until this scum.
You were handcuffed to the interrogation table, facing forward. Toji behind, one of his big hands forcing an arch in your back. Exposing your beautiful, tight cunt that he was going to ruin.
The other hand on his nearly twelve inches of length. Pink tip creaming precum as it's clearly more than ready to meet your cervix.
Toji huffs. "One last time, crook. Where is your crew?" His hand removes from your back and pulls your hair. Forcing your head on the wooden table. It's unpleasant.
He's being oh, very rough with you. Fuck your slut ass loved it. It was exciting seeing a good boy like Sheriff Toji, animalistic. You chuckle at his. Lips parting, beginning to reply.
Toji's nose scrunches in anger at your cruel laugh. "Wrong answer bitch.” He bucks up into you. Forcing himself entirely into your tight pussy.
The force alone making the wooden table jump. You can’t breathe or think. It’s a burning and stabbing sensation in your poor cunt.
As he cruelly pounds you from behind. “Oh- FUCK SHERIFF OH FUCK.” You scream. Your toes curl as you’re forced to take his length like a scum you are.
The slickness from your abused hole begins to make wet noises. As she tries to accommodate for the massive guest she has inside her. “Where the fuck are they huh?” His hands move your hips. Forcing you onto his cock at the same fast pace as his hips.
You can’t even hear anything. It’s like your body is entirely numb. You didn’t even know if you were breathing, moaning, or babbling.
“I-I be good. Good y-yes yea” Toji hears your babbles. Every fast, rough thrust pounds your cervix.
Stretchhhhhing you out to the hilt. Only few minutes of this and you were ready to tap out. “I-I-I” you try to say something. What? Who knows. Your legs shake as your forced into an orgasm.
“FUCK FUCK FUCK SHERIFF P-PLEASE.” You cum hard onto his thick cock. The cream coating his cock nicely.
“Yeah, that’s fucking nice. Gonna make your ass cum a million times ‘til you break, bitch. You hear me? You broken yet?” Toji teases. As he gives no break post orgasm.
You bite your lip. Your sensitive cunt can’t take it. Now more than ever. The noises from your pussy juices and back shots fill the room. Your screams turn into incoherent mumbles.
Toji slowly pulls out. Leaving you with a new profound emptiness. You bite back a whiny moan, slightly missing the pain and pleasure.
“Thanks for getting me all lubed up, angel”Toji sounds strangely cheerful.
The tip of his cock circling the rim of asshole. Your breath hitches, not knowing if he was crazy enough- He whispers into your ear, knowing your near breaking point, “I’m about to destroy this asshole, slut.” His voice mean and rough.
“NO! No l’ll tell you everything. I swear. Please, fuck, please” You pleaded. Toji is smug. He may have not came but he got the job done here.
You were truthful with your statement. Justice was served to you and your crew of bandits.
Toji had forgotten about the incident (mainly because he tried his best to) until months later he received a letter. A letter from you….
Dear Sheriff,
Visit soon please. I miss you… all of you ᥫ᭡
xoxo
Seems like everyone’s beloved sheriff now has a bandit as an admirer, who would’ve thought…
"i bet mine's bigger than yours!" — this isn’t inspired by zach and bryce from love island usa, whaaat literally why would you say that … 876. 18+, minors and ageless blogs DNI.
Suguru has a problem.
Okay, he has many problems. He has a problem with rolling away from his warm bed in the morning, and he has a problem with making sure he eats balanced meals. He has a problem with high-pitched noises, and he has a problem labeled ‘I’m in love with my best friend, and really pathetic, because I refuse to do anything about it.’
Suguru has problems.
But, Satoru? That’s his main one.
“C’mon, Suguru, it’ll be so quick—”
“You’re not looking at my dick.”
Satoru whines, collapsing further into their shared couch, in their shared living room, in their shared apartment—
Maybe, Suguru set himself up for failure.
Maybe, this is Suguru’s fault, after all.
Suguru caves. He always caves.
Now, he and Satoru just…stand here in the middle of their living room, with their dicks out, like this isn’t the most absurd thing Suguru has done since Satoru made him buy olive oil for his ice cream.
Satoru’s making a face. Suguru isn’t exactly sure what it means.
“What.”
“This isn’t working,” Satoru mutters, placing a finger to his lips like this is a lab study and not two best friends in a very compromising position. Then, he snaps. “Get hard.”
Suguru narrows his eyes, like he might be able to see what Satoru said in the air, because he doesn’t think he heard what he thinks he heard. (Oh, but he does.) “…What?”
“Get hard,” Satoru repeats, gesturing to the general vicinity of his… “Dick measuring contests don’t work unless you’re hard, Suguru. Duh.”
Suguru sighs, and looks down at his own crotch. So, that’s what they’re doing.
That explains the ruler Satoru went all the way to his bedroom to grab.
Suguru sighs again, hard and heavy, and, just in case his best friend is deaf, pinches his eyes. “Satoru, I’m not getting hard in front of you. My dicks already out; this is already weird as fuck—”
“Right, so what’s the difference if we go a little further?” And Satoru shrugs, like he’s talking about the weather, or the news, or literally anything else. “Right?”
Suguru groans. He knows he’s going to cave again. But, like—
“How.”
Satoru’s eyes light up once he knows he’s in. (The issue is that Satoru wasn’t out, he was never out, no matter how egregious the request.) “I dunno, what kind of porn do you like to watch?”
“None,” Suguru huffs, crossing his arms, and ignoring the way his dick bounces a little. Now is not the time. “I’m creative.”
“Ugh, boring,” Satoru rolls his eyes, but lets it go as he points to their bedroom doors. “Well? Go. Get hard.”
Suguru releases a noise classified as an annoyed growl, soft but deep in his throat, but does it. Because he’s weak. Fucking pathetic.
Suguru comes back out in three minutes. Two of those minutes were spent panicking, because what the fuck, not only does Satoru want to see his dick, but see it hard, and one minute was spent imagining what Satoru might be doing to get hard, what he might look like. Red and flushed, and—it doesn’t take Suguru long. He barely has to touch himself.
Satoru’s hard. Suguru’s hard. Now what.
“Now, we measure,” Satoru says with a joy reserved for absolute children, innocent and bright, like he isn’t dripping pre-cum all over the floor, what the fuck—
His roommate grabs the ruler, and slaps it against the palm of his hand with a loud thwack! Suguru flinches.
“Please don’t do that to my dick.”
“I won’t,” Satoru rolls his neck, vaguely annoyed. Then, with a glint in his eye and a crooked smile, “Unless you want me to.”
Suguru huffs.
“I’m leaving.”
“No! Okay—wait, I’m sorry.”
Suguru sighs, leaning his head to the side until his neck stretches. He lifts his hands, then drops them against his bare thighs. What a lovely reminder. “Just—hurry up. My legs are cold.”
“Fine, fine,” Satoru grumbles under his breath, walking up quickly. He measures himself first, tongue sticking out in absolutely adorable focus, squinting as his finger lines up with his tip. “’Kay. Seven point one…”
Then, he stabs the ruler into Suguru’s abdomen, and grabs hold of his cock. Suguru inhales something sharp, then slaps his hand away.
“Satoru, what the fuck—”
“What? I need to hold it—”
“Fucking—let me hold it, why would you just touch my—”
“Hold it, then! I don’t give a shit!”
With a huff, Suguru does, in fact, hold his own dick, as straight as he can—because, he’s not about to lose, the fuck—and lines it up with Satoru’s ruler. He ignores the fact that Satoru’s dick was just on it, a small dark dot of pre-cum left in his wake. This is so, so unfair.
And, if Suguru’s dick twitches at the thought, no one knows, because Suguru’s holding himself in a vice grip.
“Seven…point one,” Satoru reads, and though it’s a tie, Suguru’s fine with not winning as long as he’s not the one losing, and—
Satoru groans, takes the ruler back, and measures himself again. “’Kay, so we gotta get it down to the hundreth, then—”
hunter!sevika, bottom!sevika, top!reader, inexeperience, pussy eating (s!receiving), making out, porn with plot
read pt 1 ⤷ ゛here ˎˊ˗
req by ( ੭ ˘ ³˘)੭° @queenradianceroselie ♡‧₊˚
the walk back to town consists of you asking sevika endless questions about her life in the city between awkward moments of silence. she's not much for words and you aren't much for conversation; but her voice was so deep and sultry you try everything to keep her talking.
"so what do you do?"
"hunt."
"like, deer? for a job?"
sevika looks down, smirking a little, "yea. like deer, for a job." another silence falls over the both of you, you can't help but turn your gaze toward her now gloved hand. the one that had two of her thick fingers inside of you moments before.
"still thinkin' about me?" sevika chuckles, "wasn't even my best work?"
you suddenly feel hot in your heavy coat, "th..that wasn't your best?"
a loud laugh rumbles out of sevika's sturdy chest as she snakes her arm around your waist, "not even close." after some more awkward silence, you finally make it to the edge of your neighborhood where your modest trailer sat.
"wow, your place is the furthest away." sevika looks out into the small sea of warmly lit windows.
"hm, yea. my mom left me this place. lived here my whole life, i guess i've always just been...set apart from everyone..." you trail off, embarrassed.
"hey," sevika rests her hand on the small of your back, rubbing small circles. your still-damp underwear wets even more, your clit throbbing almost painfully. you needed her.
"l-let's go inside!" you dash in front of her stumbling onto your porch and open the door. "after you!"
"thanks, pretty girl." sevika all but purrs. she knows what she's doing to you. you are gob smacked at how she can act so natural after something... so...so arousing.
immediately you feel the warmth of your house in contrast to the bitter cold outside. you watch sevika shed her equipment; first, her heavy hunting rifle, then her fur-lined boots, then her heavy coat, fuck her arms are so big. no wonder she so easily pinned you against that tree—
"thought it wasn't polite to stare."
you snap out of your trance, "sorry...i've just never uhm, done any of that before and—"
"look, don't be embarrassed," sevika strides up to you cuffing your head in her hands. she smiles softly, warmth spreading across her face. "there's a first time for everything."
your heart hammers in your chest, your eyes dart down to her lips, and then her eyes again. sevika just watches you, a knowing look behind her dark grey eyes. slowly, you took off your coat, fearful that any sudden movements would break this moment. with the thud of your coat you grab sevika's face, crashing your lips into her.
her towering frame stutters as she wraps her arms around you, stumbling to your nearby couch. you don't know what's wrong with you, you can only think of one word: more. hungrily chanting over and over again: more, more, more. your hands are everywhere; in her hair, down her sides, groping her boobs. sevika lets out a jagged groan sliding her tongue gently across yours. you open your mouth for her completely in response she bites your lip with the perfect amount of harshness.
while keeping your mouths intact, you clumsily riffle up your long jean skirt to straddle her better. sevika is a moaning mess under you; the lewdest symphony.
"fuck," sevika breaks the kiss to breathe, her short hair wildly tossed, "you're driving me crazy."
your far too gone to care for social politeness. "can i eat you? i've never had this...i need this." you tug at her belt buckle.
sevika's eyes widen as she reaches to unbuckle her belt, "get on your knees. do as i say."
you wait at her feet, watching her shred her bottoms. she has a happy trail that started from her heavy bush and up into her shirt, and thick thighs flanking each side of her muscled figure.
"come 'ere." sevika grabs the back of your head, guiding it to her clit groaning as your lips made contact with her. "ooo, fuck. n-now, flatten your tongue...righhttt there." sevika's hips grind into your face while her hand kept you right where she needed you. closing your eyes, you let your tongue draw lazy circles over her large clit. her pussy is so big it's easy for you to completely bury your face in her. you moan into her, causing her legs to shake.
"yes, ohmygod, yesss." sevika whines, "su-uh-ck on it!" her deep sultry voice now a faint rasp. you suck lightly on the bundle of nerves, still swirling your tongue over the very tip. this utterly breaks her. moaning out your name with the most desperate tone, her thighs clenching around your face. the pressure combined with the smell of musk and cigars makes your pussy twitch. still shaking, sevika pats your head three times.
"oh...okay, i'm done." sevika deeply sighs. you sheepishly grin, getting up
"d-do you, uhm, need something—uh anything?" you ask, while also wondering if that was weird to ask. sevika gives you a blissed out look,
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feat quarterback!toji x camgirl chem partner!reader
summary: Toji Fushiguro considers himself a very generous man, especially after using part of his D1 quarterback paycheck towards his favorite camgirl. If anything, he's a patron of the arts: dedicated, curious, and always ready for the next big thing. So when he finds out his quiet little chem partner has the same bedroom as his idol? Well... color him intrigued.
content: MDNI 18+ ONLY, fem!reader, camgirl!reader, chem partner!reader, quarterback!toji, fratboy!toji fanboy!toji, jjk college au, no use of “y/n”, prn with a ridiculous amount of plot, oral (m!receiving, f!receiving), piv, squírtíng, dumbification, toji has a biiiiig d, dáddy k!nk, size k!nk, brééding, etc.
word count: 10.1k (i don't play abt this man)
author's note: all credits of the above pictures go to their creators. The left-most picture is from thatsallitchief on X or tiktok. If anyone knows the artist of the right-most picture let me know so I can tag them!
toji's pre-game playlist: gemstone - don toliver, homecoming - lil uzi vert, don't kill the party - ty dolla $ign, love me - lil wayne, you - don toliver, nightcrawler - travis scott
These were intense times.
The Michigan Wolverines were right in the midst of the NCAA College Football Playoffs, and it has been weeks of non-stop practice, conditioning, strength training, and late-night film recaps for the team of 100-odd men–all in preparation for a chance at being the nation’s top seed.
There was much on the line, especially seeing that Senior Quarterback and Captain, Toji Fushiguro, was aiming to secure his spot in the upcoming NFL draft.
As such, his pre-game ritual (one that he has refined and perfected over the course of four years) was a strict routine backed by, and rooted down in, evidence-based science and partially unbiased statistical analyses.
It all starts with his protein shake: two whole bananas, one cup of oats, a shit ton of peanut butter, one spoon of raw honey, four scoops of protein powder, and full-fat milk.
Next, his attire. He needed his signature gray game-day sweats (unwashed for the past 10-games in a row), a muscle tank he’s owned and stretched out since high school, and his most industrial-grade, noise-cancelling headphones.
As for schedule? He needed thirty minutes of privacy, unrestricted and uninterrupted access to high speed internet, and most importantly of all: he needed to watch at least two of “stargiirl_xx”’s videos prior to heading out onto the turf.
Give him that, and he was bound to have a fuckin’ phenomenal performance on the field.
His meaty hand was already squeezing his growing erection through his sweats, the thick outline of his cock visible against the backlight from stargiirl’s newest video loading up on his laptop screen, and his protein shake already half finished by his bedside table.
He wasn’t just a fan. He was her #1 biggest financer.
Though she never showed her face, he had come to memorize the curve of stargiirl’s thighs and the moles on her hips over the course of the years. He knew her room layout by heart, and diligently watched the animes that she kept posters of on her walls.
She was the best of the best. Not showy, not performative, just purely indulging herself.
And sure, if keeping her active meant donating a sizable portion of his D1 stipend to fund her… pursuits, well, then call him a patron of the arts.
His dick shamelessly pulsed in his pants as the page finally stopped buffering and the title of the video loaded.
“Lessons in Vibrations Pt I”.
Part one?!
He knew almost immediately that tonight’s game would be a fantastic one.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
The Wolverines won their first round of the playoffs in a sweeping victory: 41-20.
And Toji Fushiguro? Well, he was the star of the show, of course. He completed more than 85% of his passes (with six of them leading to touchdowns) and led an 80-yard rush all in a single game. He was on fire: skin buzzing with adrenaline, cool sweat dripping down his face, and his large canines glinting under the fierce stadium lights as the deafening crowds roared his name.
“To-ji! To-ji! To-ji!”
He felt indomitable, floating on a high all the way from the stadium, to the bus, to the afterparty.
But in the lecture hall? Well…
His grades were barely passing for the majority of his classes, and in fact they were quite below when it came to Applied Chemical Kinetics II.
He was truly a lost cause.
He had missed countless of Yaga’s lectures throughout the course of the semester, promising himself that he would catch up on the review notes (he didn’t) and trying to watch the recorded lectures on the bus rides to any of the away games (he never).
So really, it came as no surprise to anyone when he absolutely tanked his midterms those six long weeks ago.
At the time, he was desperate. Failing class meant getting booted off the team. He needed someone who could easily cover his sorry ass for the rest of the semester, and fast.
Therefore, the obvious choices for a final project partner were between Ijichi and, well, you.
And, seeing as Toji Fushiguro had a pair of functioning fuckin’ eyes and a brain that lived partly in his pants, he chose the latter.
It wasn’t easy persuading you to take him on for the project, which was something he honestly didn’t quite expect (nor was he used to). You were stoic to his ill-attempted flattery and unaffected by his usual charm. Every smile he flashed at you seemed to wither upon arrival, and every playful remark was met with nothing more than an empty stare.
In the end, desperation drove him somewhere pride never would’ve allowed before: straight into his football stipend.
“Listen. I’ll give you $300 if you can help me pass this class.”
It was the Wednesday before the Thanksgiving break, and he remembered how his words rang loud and heavy in the dusty air of the old lecture hall. Everyone had left at this point, the class long-since over.
You had stood before him unmoved, your books hugged to your chest and your normally impassive gaze slowly piquing in interest.
He remembered how you looked up at him through your lashes, and the way you tilted your head almost cutely. “Make it $400,” you said it softly, yet with little hesitation.
He remembered how he felt himself gulp, not from the number, but at the way your eyes were scanning his face like it was the first time you even noticed him.
His hand had gripped the strap of his backpack just a little tighter.
Though, you didn’t seem to notice as you continued. “I’ll meet you on Mondays and Thursdays only, I work every other day. And I want half as security in advance.”
You pulled out your phone, swiftly punching in your password before holding it out to him, the contacts app already open on the screen.
For the first time in all of his college experience, he was genuinely caught off guard.
What the fuck?
He took your phone.
“$400?” he repeated, huffing faintly under his breath (was he amused? Annoyed? Aroused? He couldn’t tell at the time, nor does he know now) as he typed in his number. His large hands looked almost comical holding your small device. “You rob everybody like this, or am I just that special?”
He handed your phone back, his calloused fingers gently grazing your warm ones.
“You’re failing chem,” you replied flatly. “You are not special.”
He hated how his dick twitched at your words.
But most of all, he hated how he didn’t know what to say in response.
He was the star quarterback, captain of the football team, most popular guy on campus and an undeniable chick-magnet, for god’s sake!
His silence surprised the both of you, and you took it as your queue to leave. “See you later,” you glanced down at your phone, looking at his contact. “Fushiguro.”
You didn’t even know his fuckin’ name?!
And with that, you gently breezed past him, only offering him a small nod as you walked out of the room. The scent of your shampoo faintly caught in his nose as he tried to will his boner to stop growing in his sweats.
After that, the break passed uneventfully, and by the time campus filled back up again and the chill of early winter settled in, your project was impossible to ignore.
He kept to his word of paying you the $200 in advance.
You kept to yours by meeting him that following Monday.
The two of you developed a routine during the second half of the semester, meeting in libraries and cafes to review material and project timelines for the final submission.
And during those couple of hours on the Mondays and Thursdays that he had you, he came to the haunting realization that you were so… chill.
He was blunt, but you were blunt back. You flicked him when his head got too large, and he flicked you whenever you were too stuck in yours. He shoved you out of your shell at times, while you pulled him back down to Earth. It was rare, and so fuckin’ odd, this kind of dynamic between the two of you, the kind that goes unnoticed until suddenly you realize it’s there.
Soon, he would find himself calling your name from across the quad, and you would nod with what looked like a smile at him when you passed his row in lecture. He gave you tickets to his games (which you would resell for 200% of its value), and put your name on the list for the Kappa parties despite you never showing up. You sent him stupid instagram posts, and brought him homemade coffees whenever the two of you met post-game days.
And thankfully for Toji, today was one of those days.
“How’d it go?” Your voice was like honey and wine, low and smooth, as you looked up at him from behind your computer. The light from your screen illuminated halos in your eyes, and the steam from his opened thermos curled languidly in the air between you both.
You sat across from him in a quiet, off-campus cafe.
He grinned, smug and wolfish and borderline sleazy, as if he’d been just waiting for you to ask. He leaned back in his chair and stretched his overwhelmingly large, muscular arms over his head. He made a point to subtly flex his biceps while under your scrutiny. His shirt lifted slightly above his abdomen, and you blinked your eyes to focus on the scar on his tanned face, rather than the dark happy trail that ran down, down, down to his…
“Perfect game. You’d know if you actually came ‘round ‘n watched.” He playfully winked, his deep chuckle echoing as you gave him a deadpan stare.
“I’m quite alright, Fushiguro.” He pouted in mock defeat as you looked back down at your screen. The battery symbol on your laptop flashed red in warning: low power.
You’d only been there for thirty minutes and you could’ve sworn you charged the damn thing last night. Sure, your outlets were kind of fucked, and sure this was a twelve year old laptop with a battery life the size of a peanut, but surely it wouldn’t give out on you this early in the day?!
You exhaled a long breath. The thought of putting money down for a new computer made your heart physically ache.
The two of you (mainly you) had just started to make headway with the report (“flow state”, as Toji would call it), and you knew you wouldn’t have a chance to work on the project again until after your Wednesday shift. “You got a charger on you?”
He scoffed, almost offendedly. “Wanna try askin’ that again sweetheart?” He tsked you lightly.
You rolled your eyes, a heavy sigh tumbling out of your soft lips.
“Forget it. I know you don’t,” there was something prickly beneath your uncaring tone, and he curiously paused to examine you.
He could see the faint circles under your eyes that you tried to cover with concealer, the way your shoulders sagged slightly from the weight of your backpack as you lifted it from the seat beside you, and the brief glimpse of all the mini bookmarks sticking out of your planner as you dropped it inside the bag.
“I guess we’ll have to call it here then. I’d need to go back to my apartment and grab my charger to do anything else.”
And, perhaps it was because the two of you had formed this unexpected bond over the past several weeks, something deep and quiet and far more important than Toji would ever willingly name, that the weight of being the weakest link finally made Toji Fushiguro feel the heavy hammer of guilt bury deep within his hardened chest.
A moment passed before he cleared his throat, holding up his hand.
“Or…” the words were slow to move out of his mouth, embarrassment thickening in his throat. “Why don’t we work there?” You stared at him, almost startled, as if he’d grown another head. His ears warmed under the intensity of your gaze as he continued. “I still got power, I can keep goin’ if you’re down.”
His triceps flexed as he scratched the back of his neck, tan skin pulling taut as he looked away.
“It’s a small place,” you warned.
He shrugged, his voice catching in his throat at the way you were holding his gaze. “I don’t mind. I’d go any place you choose.”
He paused, his eyes widening slightly at the words that tumbled out of his mouth, as if he didn’t realize what he said until after he said them.
You breathed, and a beat passed before a small, pretty smile pulled across your features – the first he’s ever gotten from you like this. And this time, your tired eyes warmed into something soft, something akin to appreciation, something new.
“Yeah. Yeah, okay, then I’d like that.” You tilted your head slightly, and his heart thumped oddly loud in his muscular chest. “Thank you, Toji.”
For just the briefest of moments, you looked at him as if he had just offered the world.
All he could do was swallow and nod.
He didn’t even realize you called him by his first name until you were both out the door.
The walk to your apartment was comfortably silent. Despite Toji’s taller stature and athletic build, he wordlessly matched your slower pace, walking between you and the road.
Your apartment was situated right on the outskirts of campus; too close to drive, but too cumbersome to walk. He quietly marveled at your resolution to go in person to class every day, especially when he had difficulty hauling his ass to the lecture hall that was just a block over from frat row.
The taller man was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t even realize how close he was standing to you as you both paused at your front doorstep. His towering frame loomed over you, and he could feel the heat of your body as you dug through your bag, and he could see the goosebumps that rose on your neck when your arm accidentally grazed against his abdomen.
Your keys softly clinked! together as you unlocked the front door.
And, there was something faintly intimate about being led up the creaky wooden steps to your 3rd floor apartment, your hips gently swaying in his face with each ascent up, and your soft hands lightly tracing the railing in your wake.
He intrusively thought about reaching out to touch your fingers, to run his hand along the curve of your waist–
He coughed lightly.
What was he thinking?
As you opened your apartment’s door, he was immediately hit with the light smell of lemon and jasmine.
Your place was small but tidy; a one-bedroom attic apartment where the kitchen and living area blurred together, soaking in the same sunlit space. Despite its size, it carried your mark: two types of server aprons hung on the coat rack, a soft crocheted throw blanket you made draped over the worn couch, and a set of reading glasses laying beside a hand-painted mug on your round window table.
It was cute; homely. A small glimpse into your life outside of class.
“You can start getting set up in here, I’ll just grab my charger from my room.” You spoke quietly as you led him to the table.
You silently turned before he could respond, padding across the old wooden floors to the door that was directly across from where he had set his bag down.
He had only just started typing his password into his computer when he lazily looked up, his dark eyes catching the movement from your room.
And, holy shit.
No.
There was genuinely no way in hell.
He was scrambling up out of your wobbly kitchen chair before his mind could even register it.
His body felt as if it were moving through water, and his brain felt like jam. Was that his own blood roaring past his ears or his soul escaping his body?
Cool beads of sweat began to form on his neck, tickling at the ends of his dark, grungy hair. He had crossed the width of your apartment in three long strides, until suddenly he was at your doorframe, his large body leaning against it like it was a lifeline, and his scarred mouth parted into the dumbest looking “o”.
His wild eyes scanned your room fervently. The walls, the Cowboy Bebop poster by your bedframe, the pale linen sheets, the empty vase on your bedside table and the stack of yellowing paper backs in the corner of it.
Everything looked familiar.
Scratch that. Everything looked the same. The same as–
“Can I help you?”
You were on all fours. All fuckin’ fours.
You tilted your head up to face him, taking a pause from wiggling the stubborn plug out of the ancient socket underneath your desk.
And… could you? Can you? He was at a genuine loss for words.
All he could do was stare dumbly, his large fists clenching and unclenching at his sides, and his body emanating a heat that he prayed to god wasn’t visible from where you were.
“Uh. Y-you got a bathroom up here??”
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
He scoured through every single video and rewatched every single clip that night.
The furniture, the decor, the walls, the window placement: everything was the same.
And so, the verdict was in: you–his quiet, guarded, asocial, and steely chem partner–were none other than stargiirl herself.
What. The. Fuck.
It was confusing to wrap his head around, this whole stargiirl-chemgirl business. But would he go as far to say that it wasn’t attractive? That he didn’t pop a boner every time he thought about it?
No. He couldn’t. He’d never.
Was this divine intervention or his own personal hell?
He couldn’t tell.
What does this mean? How should he act? What does he fucking do with this information now?
He rubbed his temples before running a tense hand through his hair. At the same time, a notification popped up on his computer.
“Check out a new post from stargiirl_xx !”
He could feel the blood in his veins thumping against his skin.
“Don’t do it. Please don’t fucking do it-” he mumbled.
He tapped into the link despite himself.
“Lessons In Vibration Pt II”
He wordlessly clicked the play button on the video.
For a moment, he thought his screen was buffering. The camera was set up to look out onto your bed, though you were not in frame yet, presumably twiddling with the settings of your camera.
But when you finally did walk into view, his heart nearly imploded.
The frame only showed you from the mouth down, your identity mainly concealed. You were bottomless, bare legs walking across the floor as you situated yourself on your bed. The only piece of clothing you did have on was an overlarge sweatshirt, his sweatshirt, one that he, in his panicked daze to get out of your apartment earlier, forgot he had left behind.
He didn’t dare breathe, nor could he move. His head was craned so close to his computer, as if he wanted to go through the screen itself just to get a better look.
He noted how his hoodie fell past your ass, large and consuming and honestly? So fuckin’ perfect on you.
You were nearing the end of your normal introduction, and he realized you spoke differently on video, low and confident and sensual and hypnotic.
“I’ve been thinkin’ a lot about my content throughout the years,” your hands started to draaag the bottom of his hoodie up, letting it bunch just slightly above the dip of your waist, enunciating your curves. “-And I’ve realized I’ve never had a partner during any of them.”
The comments on the side bar started to flood through, hundreds of viewers already volunteering themselves to be your +1.
His jaw ticked, hard.
“I think,” you leaned forward like you were sharing a secret. Toji gripped onto his computer until a faint pop! could be heard of one of the inner screws coming loose. “I think I would like to change that in the future,” and then you smiled, really smiled, a full, playful grin wiping across your features in a way he had never been able to see in person before.
His dick bobbed in his pants.
This could not be happening to him right now.
You continued, “but for now, welcome back to my Lessons in Vibrations series.”
He watched as you started introducing the toys you would be using today, before you slowly began to touch yourself, teasingly showing glimpses of the purple lace panties you had on underneath his hoodie.
And he couldn’t help it, really.
Because when you started rubbing your vibrator against your clit, your deft fingers plunging skillfully into your cunt, soft whimpers escaping your lips as your pussy started squelching out a fucking melody – all while wearing his fuckin’ sweatshirt – what the fuck else was he supposed to do?
His sweats were already halfway down his thighs, and his meaty hand greedily pumping his own cock in sync to you fucking yourself on your fingers.
He watched hungrily as you pushed his sweatshirt up further along your body, exposing your stomach, teasing the view of your bare tits. He bit back a groan at the thought of your scent lingering in the fabric, and prayed to whatever deity above that you wouldn’t wash it out before he got it back.
Below, your fingers languidly teased the head of your vibrator against your entrance. It was the insertable kind, with a slender tip and curved body, the type that had your hole trying to suck up the device with every rub against your dripping slit.
He could feel the veins in his cock pulsing hotly in anticipation, pushing up thick pearls of precum out onto his flared tip.
He wondered what it would be like to slip his shaft against your drenched pussy lips, to massage the underside of his cockhead against the tight ring of your entrance, to feel you squeezing around him, and to hear the sounds you would make just for him.
He gulped, cool sweat starting to form on his brow. You were beginning to fuck the device into you, pumping the vibrator in and out and in and out. He could see your legs trembling, your juices starting to uncontrollably splash outside of you, and your pussylips fluttering with every bzzz bzz bzzzzzt of the vibrator fucking and swirling and massaging into your g-spot.
He was matching your pace, furiously pumping his dick, thinking about how you looked on all fours earlier, thinking about how you smiled when you called him his name, thinking about how you look when you concentrate and the mole above your brow, thinking about the coffee you made for him and the weird shitposts you sent and the way you could look at him like he was nothing, and everything, all at the same time.
And suddenly, he wasn’t climaxing to the stargiirl he had always seen on screen.
It was his tough, quiet, calm chem partner.
And as he shot hot spurts of thick, ropey cum all the way from his dick to his chin (the most he’s ever released before), he realized only one thing.
He just finished to the thought of you.
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Toji Fushiguro had a problem.
No, scratch that.
He had a fucking crisis.
It was drill day, and his head was absolutely nowhere near the turf. He fumbled balls, missed targets, and was a full thirty-seconds under his usual sprint times.
And that was only how one of his practices went this week.
It had been five whole days since he last saw you.
Five days of being dogshit at his sport.
Five days of holing up in his frat, avoiding campus, avoiding class, avoiding your texts, avoiding you.
It’s not like he wanted to do this, but he didn’t know what to do, how to act, or what to even say.
How could he talk to you casually while knowing he’s given probably a third of his checks to you? How could he be normal in your presence knowing that he’s watched every single one of your streams, and in turn has finished an embarrassing amount of times to each of them?
How could he trust himself when the thought of you alone had his heart pounding so hard his ears hurt? Or how his chest squeezed so tight he almost went to urgent care, just because you texted asking where he’s been and if he was okay?
How could he face you, knowing that he somehow developed the largest, fattest, most egregious fuckin’ crush on you?!
And, for the record, Toji Fushiguro did not do crushes. He hadn’t necessarily “ran through” the entire roster of available chicks on campus, but he did have an occasional fling, nothing serious, nothing long, nothing that would distract him from football and his dreams.
He was known as the campus heartthrob and heartbreaker. He was Mr. Non-Chalant, Mr. Everybody-Wants-A-Piece-of-Him, and Mr. I-Don’t-Get-Attached all wrapped up in one 6’4, 230 lbs body.
A crush? That was new, unexplored territory for him.
He stared down at your last texts to him.
⭐️ (Thursday, 12:03pm): i got us a nice spot!! im sitting on 2nd floor @ clark ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧
Ba-dump!
⭐️ (Thursday, 12:18pm): knock knock, is mr. toji theree
Ba-dump! Ba-dump!
⭐️ (Thursday, 12:56pm): hey, is everythin ok? r we still on for today?
Ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump–
⭐️ (Saturday, 10:01am): r u alive
It physically sickened him that he couldn’t get his cowardly fingers to just fucking write back. But every time he opened up your text chain, all he could do was stare.
Which is exactly why he couldn’t see you yet.
He needed time.
He needed space.
He needed to get this shit under control.
Fortunately (or unfortunately) for him, the Kappa Epsilon fraternity was throwing a rager tonight. With the group of men only one week out from the next bracket of playoffs, this would be the last night the football frat would get to drink together for a while if they were to make it to the finals.
It would be the perfect distraction.
About an hour or so into the party and he was buzzed. He absolutely demolished that shithead Ryomen in beer pong, crushed a pack of PBRs, and now was cooling off in the kitchen, his body feeling swimmy and light.
He reached for his phone. Maybe, just maybe, if he looked at your messages again for the umpteenth time today, maybe he would know what to say, maybe he–
“Ah, so you can come out and party but ignore all of my texts?”
His heart did that stupid thing where it pounded so hard against his chest he wondered if his ribs bruised.
Despite the booming of the bass coming from the room over, and the idle chatter of randoms idling in the kitchen, he could hear the dry, unimpressed, and entirely too familiar voice coming directly from behind him.
He turned, his eyes lowering to find you, as if it was muscle memory, as if it was his second nature.
You never showed up to these parties (and trust, he has invited you to them all). Yet here you were, your body leaned up against the kitchen counter, arms crossed over your chest, and your hair falling around your frame.
He grinned, the buzz in his head making it easy for a stupidly cheeky and wide and boyish smile to plaster onto his face. (a/n: toji has a hung smile. Okay? Okay.).
“Hey, party animal,” he said, almost dreamily.
The top you wore clung to you like a second skin, accentuating the swells of your breasts and the dip of your waist: features that you usually hid underneath your normal, bulkier campus-attire.
He was indecisive, his eyes bouncing between the unreadable look on your face to the sliver of exposed skin right above your miniskirt.
You looked good, really fuckin’ good.
Your eyes widened, before your cheeks blushed the prettiest shade of red, your manicured fingers tightening around the plastic solo cup you were holding
Did he say that outloud?!
You straightened, steeling yourself, willing the warmth in your cheeks to go away. “You’ve ignored me for five days, Fushiguro-” your voice was firm and cool, cutting sharply through the noise of the party.
Back to the last name basis.
You looked away, before adding, “-and you ditched me on Thursday.” You spoke that last part softly, deliberately, a look of sadness flashing briefly in your pretty, doe-like eyes.
A dull pang rippled through his chest.
He knew the implications of your words – the two of you never missed a meetup since this whole “deal” started.
And, like those days in the libraries or cafes where he found himself sitting before you, following your every word and direction, he now found himself moving towards you, a small pout forming on his scarred lips, as his strong arms caged you in until you were wedged between himself and the counter.
And, you knew he was huge before.
But now, up close, you realized just how large he was - his broad shoulders obscuring your view, his muscular chest rippling under the tight black shirt he wore, and his huge hands riddled with veins that climbed up, up, up his forearms.
He was overwhelming and all-consuming, surrounding your senses with the kind of intensity only he alone could pull off. You breathed in, your chest rising, fighting against the cotton of your ill-fitting top. He smelled of fresh pine and warm leather, clean and raw and manly.
You came here pissed, but now found your resolve completely fogged and muddled.
He leaned forward, dipping his head low, until his shaggy fringe tickled softly against the shell of your ear.
You knew he had been drinking, but the question was, did he know what he was doing right now? Was this purposeful? Was this real? You couldn’t quite tell, but the way his breath stuttered as his nose traced light patterns into your neck, the way he was breathing you in, and the way his hands periodically clenched onto the countertop as if to restrain himself, told you he was at least semi aware of what he was doing.
Your heart was hammering in your chest. The two of you never stood this close before, let alone touched each other.
You turned your head slightly, trying to put at least some ounce of space between your face and his.
But for him? That just would not do.
He slowly pulled away from your neck, his nose lightly mapping a path from the base of your neck, across the soft expanse of your cheek, to the tip of your own. Noses brushing, breaths mingling, chests heaving, and hearts pounding as his scarred lips hovered your glossed ones.
“Why have you been avoiding me?”
The air between you was warm and thick, charged with something tender and so deeply intimate.
“Because you scare me,” he mumbled.
“Oh, really?” Your mouth twitched.
“Mm.” He nodded once, nose rubbing softly against yours in an eskimo kiss. You could see how his eyes were dark and heavy-lidded, lips dangerously close to pressing against yours.
“‘Think ya cursed me.” His neck flushed red, his low voice was barely above a whisper.
“I can go-”
“Don’t.”
And then his large hands were latching onto your waist, the heat of his skin searing through the thin material of your skirt.
“Don’t. Don’tDon’tDon’t.” His brows scrunched together, his face becoming serious. “Don’t go. Don’t leave. Not when you’re here, with me, pretty girl.”
You breathed, taking your time to steady your voice after hearing the pet name roll off his tongue. “Then what should I do?”
“Stay.”
It was as simple as that, really.
And then his lips were on yours, warm and soft and commanding. He kissed you like you were sin, drinking you in, savoring you on his tongue, before inevitably, always inevitably, going back for more. He didn’t let you breathe; he wouldn’t. He was greedy and wrong and possessive, claiming your mouth like it was his alone to conquer. Your knees weakened as his tongue massaged against yours addictively, molding against you like you were made for him; like he was made for you.
Your hands moved before you could think, before you could decide if you were angry with him or if you hungered for him. You found purchase on his broad shoulders, before making your way up, up, up to his neck, one hand running through his dark hair while the other held onto the underside of his strong jaw, thumb gently caressing the scar on the side of his mouth, pulling him in.
He pressed into you further, your ass hitting the lower counter. His body was flush against yours, his chest purposefully rubbing against your tits.
He could feel your nipples hardening through the flimsy cotton of your top, and he couldn’t stop the sleazy grin that was forming on his face.
Below, his grip on you was gentle but firm, bringing your body to press and grind against his in an unhurried, languid way, like he had all the time in the world, like all of this was fated from the start.
And his fingers, oh his fingers, which spanned across your hip, slowly found their way to your ass, gripping and cupping and kneading into the soft, jiggly flesh.
You could feel something move against your thigh, something sturdy and heavy and completely fucking monstruous.
“Haah-” you shakily sighed out, breathy and dazed as you looked down to the outline of his bulge. Your eyes widened.
“I like when you use that smart mouth, y’know,” he was talking against your lips, not able to find it in himself to pull away. His hand slid up the side of your waist, until he stopped right underneath your breast, his thumb rubbing against the underside of where it started to swell.
His voice dropped an octave lower, whispering to you like it was a secret. “Talk to me. Break this curse. Tell me it’s not just me that feels like this.”
Please.
His heart was racing. He was stone cold sober. This was it. This was his admission.
ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump–
You breathed.
The party raged on in the background, muddled and distant, like his ears were submerged under water–
“It’s not just you, Toji.”
Your voice was quiet, your cheeks tinted rouge, your pretty eyes looking up at him in earnest.
And that was all he needed.
He picked you up like you were nothing (his bench was 350 lbs, squat 600 lbs, and his hip thrusts? don’t even worry ‘bout it), a smug, victorious grin tugging at his scarred lips.
He carried you out of the kitchen, and a steady stream of wolf whistles and howls erupted from his frat brothers and party goers as the two of you made your way across the foyer, up the stairs, and towards a bedroom. His bedroom.
He carried you inside, keeping the lights off, letting the warm glow of the streetlamp beside his window spill softly across the room. Without a word, he set you down on his large king-sized bed.
The air in his room was tender and still. You could hear the faint bass of the stereo downstairs, vibrating against his wooden floors like a heartbeat. The distant cheers of the crowd down below faded to quiet as he pressed his mouth to your own.
He leisurely climbed over you, never breaking the kiss, his muscular arms holding his body above your own.
It didn’t take long for the makeout to turn heated again, teeth clashing against teeth, bodies pressed against each other, rubbing and teasing in a way that had your head spinning.
You put your hands against his chest.
“Toji-”
“Stay,” he breathed, whispering the words against your lips, like he could read your mind. “-Stay with me tonight,” he pressed his body closer into you, rutting his hips, “and lemme show you the things I’ve been wantin’ to say to you all week.”
You could feel his cock twitch ominously against your bare thigh as you swallowed.
His lips were swollen and glistening from your mixed salivas, his eyes glazed over, jade irises almost completely black. His grip on your lower body was unrelenting, holding you in place.
You lightly pushed your hand against his chest, a hesitant look crossing your features.
A beat passed. For a second, he didn’t even realize he stopped breathing.
“You’ve been drinking,” You paused, your voice coming out small. “What if.. what if you don’t mean this in the morning?”
And for all your expertise and genius, oh, how completely wrong you could be.
He let out a humorless chuckle, his sharp canines peaking through his lips in the process.
“Did it sound like I was jokin’, sweetheart?” He shakily exhaled through his nose as he pressed his erection against your clothed cunt, holding himself there, letting you feel the pressure and full weight of what he was packing. “Does it feel like I’m jokin’ ‘bout this?”
You bit your lip, pussy throbbing, a warm slickness starting to soak through your panties, before messily spreading between your clenched thighs.
You shook your head.
“What’d I say about usin’ your words?”
He pulsed his dick, the sensation making your pussy clench.
Fuckin’ tease.
“Nngh- no. No it doesn’t feel like you’re joking,” you almost gasp out.
A satisfied smirk plastered onto his tanned face.
“Good girl.”
And then he’s moving down the bed, his calloused hands spreading your legs as he pressed wet kisses against the hot skin of your thighs. He was methodical and slow, making his way up your inner thigh, savoring the small sounds that you tried to suppress as he reached the bottom hem of your skirt, his face mere inches away from your sopping pussy, and his breath puffing warm air against your dampened panties .
“Ohhh jus’ look at ya,” you could tell he had the most shit-eating grin on his face right now, pride swelling in his voice as he carefully dipped a large, rough finger between the seam of the thin purple fabric you adorned. “This all f’me?”
And - Holy shit.
The videos of you didn’t even do this justice.
Because low and behold, here you were, under his body, and you were so fuckin’ wet. His finger slid against your folds with little resistance, putting just enough pressure that you couldn’t help but moan his name as he rubbed circles against your clit.
And, Toji Fushiguro never claimed to be a patient man. So, it should’ve came as no surprise when he grabbed your hips and used his hulking strength to push your clothed pussy to his scarred lips, his face nuzzled to your cunt, nose pressed firmly to your clit, and his greedy tongue lapping you up through the soiled fabric.
It was obscene and perverse and dirty and wrong.
But oh, how he loved it. Loved the heady taste you left on your panties, and the sweet scent of your gushing pussy, and the excess slick on your thighs that made its way onto his rough cheeks.
He groaned, a low, guttural sound against your skin that made your tummy squeeze into knots.
“T-Toji, please,” you whined, pressing your greedy cunt into his face, “need your tongue. Need you. Need more.” You could hardly string a true sentence together, and he hadn’t even fucked you proper yet.
His heart was thunderous against his chest.
And his dick?
Hardest it’s ever fuckin’ been in his fuckin’ life.
He was grinding his erection against the mattress as he obliged your wishes.
After all, how could he say no to you?
He pushed your panties to the side.
And oh.
His balls tightened below him, the urge to cum almost threateningly near as he stared at your bare, swollen pussy.
Holy. Shit.
Everything was soaked and glistening.
He rubbed one thumb across your puffy skin, his coarse finger getting soaked in the process.
He leaned in, gingerly licking fat stripes along your folds, lapping you up, drinking you in. He worked thoroughly, gathering you onto his tongue, until the lower part of his face was a mixture of your juices and his drool.
It was only after he was satisfied with his work did he make his way to your clit, humming and sucking, the wet sounds of his mouth making out with your cunt filling the air of his room.
The warm pleasure of it all was beginning to pool in your belly, your toes beginning to curl, legs beginning to shake – but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t.
“Toji, I might-”
He plunged a rough, thick finger inside you, spearing your tight velvet walls apart, all the way up to his knuckle.
You saw fuckin’ stars.
The sound you made was so erotic, so loud and depraved and raw, that his dick lurched in his pants, warm gooey pre-cum beginning to leak out from his throbbing tip and into his briefs.
He wanted to hear you again, and again and again and again.
He wanted videos, home movies, and spotify playlists of the way your pussy was talking to him.
Emboldened, his tongue was unrelenting on your clit, as one finger became two, and then two became three.
You mewled as he crooked them up, massaging against that soft, spongey bundle of nerves that had you panting his name out like it was prayer.
Your ears were ringing, your eyes beginning to get wet with tears.
Soon, he was fucking you on his fingers proper, setting a debilitating pace as he plunged his digits in and out and in and out. Filling you up, stretching you out, hitting your most sensitive areas. Again, and again, and again.
The pressure in your core was reaching its limits now, and the pleasure from the sheer fullness of your pussy and the sinful patterns of his tongue were beginning to send violent tremors down your legs.
You were orgasming before you even realized it.
And yet, he was didn’t stop – didn’t even give you time to breathe as he’s diving into your pussy, slurping you up, his large nose rubbing against your over-sensitive clit as he’s fucking his thick tongue and his fingers past the tight ring of your entrance, fucking you, warm and wet, through each of your peaks.
Your hands held onto his hair like a lifeline, your fleshy thighs locked around his head as if to keep him in place.
“You taste so good, sweetheart,” he moaned, his eyes glazed over, completely and utterly pussy drunk, as you looked down at him, his mouth still latched onto your cunt.
You could see your slick dripping down his face, mixing with the light trails of perspiration that sprouted from his temples.
Your heart squeezed in your chest.
It was only after the last few waves of your orgasm subsided when you could finally respond.
“I think,” you gently reached down to run your shaky hand through his scalp, tenderly pushing away the sweaty fringe by his eyes. “I think I can think of something that might taste better.”
And then you’re pushing him until he’s moving to the top of the bed, his back resting against the headboard as he pulls his black shirt up and over his head, triceps flexing, exposing his muscular pecs, washboard abs, and the light tufts of hair that sprouted on his chest, and got increasingly darker the further down his abs it went.
You could feel your pussy walls clamp down, warmth pooling in your core again as you reached out instinctively to run your hands along the length of his torso.
You never thought, in all of your wildest dreams, that this would be happening. Nor could your dreams do justice to the perfect build of the man before you.
“Well look at you, Mr. Fushiguro.” Your soft hands slowly sliding up, up, up against his skin, all the way from where the dark tufts of thick hair started to disappear under his pants, and towards his pecs, feeling the way his traitorous heart stuttered as you called his name. “Aren’t you quite the heartbreaker.”
You held his gaze, the air around you charged with anticipation.
Who would move first?
His breathing was shallow as he stared at you, your cheeks flushed and eyes glazed. Your top was rumpled to hell, exposing the line of your cleavage in a way that had his pants tenting painfully, and your mini skirt was so far scrunched that it looked like a belt around your waist.
“For others, sure…” He grabbed your hands, pressing them deeper into his skin as he slid them up to cup his face. “But for you?” he was whispering now, his ears growing steadily pinker by the second, “I’m afraid you have me beat.”
Oh.
And then you’re leaning in, tenderly pressing your lips to his own, mumbling his name over and over again to stop you from saying those other three little words, before sealing it with your tongue.
And then he’s pulling you into his lap.
You could taste yourself in his mouth and on his lips, your nipples tightening as his large hands grabbed handfuls of your ass, spreading your cheeks apart before making them clap together again.
A muffled groan escaped from the depths of his chest, vibrating against your mouth, as he felt new gushes of your slick begin to dampen the front of his pants.
“Mmmnh- get comfortable, pretty girl.” He slurred out as he pulled at the waistband of your skirt, before letting go, allowing the material to slap against your skin with a light sting.
“Hmm… only if daddy gets comfortable too.” your eyes were big as you stared at him through your lashes.
And oh fuck.
Toji had to lean his head back, his skull hitting against the wall with a dull thud!
The way the words left your mouth had him breathless, brain short-circuiting, and dick throbbing. He needed to recuperate. Calm down.
Breathe in. Exhale. Repeat.
You smiled slyly, completely aware of how your words affected him, as you pulled your flimsy top off, followed by your bottomwear. Your tits were heavy and full as they were released from the cotton, nipples peaked and stiff.
You were bare before him, your arms on either side of his hips, squeezing your tits together lightly as you bent low to whisper against his ear.
“You like when I call you that?” Your voice was sweet as honey as your hands traced the large outline of his dick through his pants, gripping his shaft through the tight material, and feeling the monstrous size of his girth.
“Careful, sweetheart,” his voice was a mixture of restraint and warning, “don’t start callin’ me that unless y’er tryna see it through.” His neck was visibly tense, and his hands clutched on to the meat of your hips as he stared at you.
Pretty girl.
He squeezed tighter.
His pretty girl.
A moment of silence passed as you considered his words. “And what if I do wanna see it through…?” Your head tilted cutely while your mean hands found their way to his happy trail, running your nails down through the thick tufts of dark hair, dipping juuust below the waistband of his pants, before retreating back up again in slow, agonizing loops. “Show me your worst, daddy.”
And who was he to deny you?
Before you knew it, he had his pants and briefs shoved down his legs, his massive cock heavily thudding against his washboard abs
Your mouth gaped open.
And ohhh how he relished the dumb look on your lil’ cute face.
You didn’t even think anyone could be this large.
Yet here he was, with a dick that looked like it belonged in a porno, pulsing fat and heavy and huge as he leaked pre-cum all over the angry mushroomed head.
He smirked, cocky as ever, as you subconsciously licked your lips, eyes glazed over, cock drunk just off the look alone.
Your pussy gushed warm, new slick between your legs as you carefully leant down, your hands grabbing around his base, slowly bringing his dick closer to your face.
He could feel the warm puffs of air coming from ur plush lips, his dick twitching like crazy at how close you were to finally, finally getting your mouth on him.
You pressed a gentle kiss to his leaking slit, before running your lips over the excess pre-cum, painting your lips with the milky substance.
He swallowed hard. His eyes were wild and his breathing ragged.
He groped your tits, rolling your stiff nipples in his calloused fingers, eliciting the sweetest moan from you that reverberated around his dick.
You gave him small kitten licks at first, teasing the idea, before gradually licking thick fat stripes up and down the length of his huge dick. You traced the pulsing veins that climbed up his hot shaft and licked around the sensitive underside of his throbbing cockhead.
And it was only when his chest was heaving, his impatient hands gripping onto your skull, did you finally, finally begin to throat fuck the shit outta him.
None of the videos he had watched of you before even came close to the sensation of seeing the bulge forming in your throat from where his cock was buried inside of you, or the way your nose tickled against the tufts of dark hair at the base of his cock.
You moaned dreamily around him at the feeling of his heavy dick pounding against the back of your throat, filling your mouth and overwhelming your senses. You couldn’t help the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes as you bobbed him in your mouth, hands jerking off what you couldn’t reach, and your thighs rubbing together greedily, craving any ounce of friction against your throbbing pussy.
But before you knew it, he was lifting you off, a light string of saliva following en suit, connecting the two of you together.
“What’s wrong?” You had a devilish grin on your pretty face. “Scared you're gonna cum too quick?”
A low, humorless chuckle rumbled through his body as one of his hands wrapped around your throat, while the other smacked your ass.
“Nah,” his canines glinted in the lowlight, a predatorial grin etching into his features. “Just tryna make sure nothin’ gets wasted.” And then he's shifting you up, rubbing his thick cock against your gooey cunt, mixing his thick pre with your juices.
Your heart fluttered.
His dick was so warm against your skin – so, so much better (and bigger) than the toys you regularly used to get yourself off.
You’ve had enough. You’ve done your waiting. You needed him inside you.
You lifted yourself up, your hands bracing themselves on either side of Toji’s broad shoulders. Your pussy was dripping down onto his angry dick as you slowly lowered yourself, hips circling, letting his throbbing head trace your sopping lips.
He could have almost passed out from the sight alone.
Instead, he panted out a deep breath, his chest tightening as he tried to restrain himself from bucking up into your cunt.
You paused your hips, lowering yourself again ever so slightly so that his leaking head was now smooching against your gummy entrance, the heat of his cock stirring something warm and familiar in your belly.
Please, please, please, ple–
And then your pussy is swallowing his head whole.
“Oh, fuuuck you’re tight mama,” his eyes squeezed shut, fringe sticking to his sweaty forehead as Toji gasped out at the sensation of his thiiick cockhead squeezing past the tight ring of muscles at your entrance.
Your gummy walls sucked against him from all angles, squishing into his hardness and rubbing deliciously against the sensitive underside of his mushroomed tip.
And this was just the tip.
He didn’t know if he would make it out of here alive. At least, without getting you pregnant.
You whimpered, actually fuckin’ whimpered his name as you reached down, touching where he was spearing you apart, your lips drawn thin and tight to accommodate for the sheer size of him.
“You’re so big Toji,” a tear rolled down your flushed cheek. “Look at how much more I gotta take.” And he did, he really did look. Because you began to let your finger slowly slide from where the two of you were connected, down, down, down to the tufts of hair at the base of his cock.
“Haah- Ya’ think it’ll fit, sweetheart?” He grunted, his lips involuntarily bucking as you pouted cutely at him.
Something impassable flashed across your feature. “I’ll make it fuckin’ fit.”
And then you’re slamming down onto his dick, and it feels like the literal wind gets knocked out of both of your chests.
He has never felt something so deliciously tight before.
You have never felt so goddamn filled up before.
You’re clenching around him, velvet walls fluttering and smooching around his raw cock as it pulses heavy and thick with animalistic need.
It took you several moments to orient yourself, to gather your scrambled senses back together to remember what you were doing, what your goal was, why you were here.
“I have a secret to tell you.” You stared down at him, an unreadable look passing over your features.
“O-oh really?” you squeezed your walls around him, catching him off guard.
“I know you watch me touch myself,” you whispered it like it was a secret, sly and just a touch proud.
And of all the things you could’ve said, nothing would have prepared him for that.
His dick bobbed from inside of you.
“Fushi-daddy420 isn’t the most subtlest of names, no?” you grinned meanly as you watched his jade eyes turn impossibly black as you began to slowly, teasingly, mercifully bounce on his cock. Up and down and up and down.
“But-?”
He thought you would hate him if you knew.
He agonized for days for this reaction?!!
“And after you ran out on me after seeing my place?” you were panting, riding him as you talked. “Yea, that kinda solidified it.”
And just when he thinks you’ve found your rhythm and set your pace, you slowly begin to circle your hips, hitting new angles deep inside your guts that have his throbbing tip pressing into the spongy part of your pussy.
“You don’t -fuhh- don’t hate me?” his mind was swirling, how could he focus when you felt this good?
“Never.” Your hips rolled, and you pressed your tits together, giving him a show.
And you were doing so well, and felt so good. He pressed a fat thumb against your clit, spelling out his name, as if to claim you, mark you, over and over and over again.
T-O-J-I !
He throws his head back as he feels you creaming around his cock, while your eyes are rolling into the backs of your head as you feel his thick goopy pre frothing at your entrance, dripping down onto his balls. The pace is getting faster, the air getting hot, and thick beads of sweat are rolling down your back. The obscene sounds of sweaty skin slapping against skin filled the hot, sex-scented air.
You lean down to kiss him, tongues messily entangling, drool spilling from the sides of your lips as you ride his cock like a fuckin’ animal, ass jiggling from the force of his hips rocking up to meet you, his heavy balls smacking against your pussy like a promise.
In one swift motion, he’s flipping the two of you over, your back to the bed, his dick never leaving your pussy, as he continues to fuck into you. He has your legs spread wide, your knees to his sides as he buries himself deep within your warmth, the new angle allowing you to feel his fat tip smooching against your cervix.
He’s panting, breath shaky as he slows down, rutting shallowly, not allowing himself to be too far from your gummy insides. “T-tell me where you want it,” his voice came out strained, and you could see where his veins were protruding on his neck.
Oh. His cum.
His balls were pressed against you, tightening with every passing second. You could feel his dick bobbing against your walls as he was direly trying to stop himself from cumming.
You smiled, soft and sweet, as you pressed a hand against your lower tummy, feeling the bulge of where he was nestled inside you.
“Oh, you already know,” and you were batting your pretty lashes up at him, making his heart stutter. “Isn’t that right, daddy?”
And oh, how his broken mind snapped.
The next thing you knew, he’s pressing your knees so far up they’re knocking against your tits, his hulking body leaning over and pressing down into you, chest against chest, until you could feel his warm lips sucking bruises by your ear.
And then he’s draaagging his thick cock through your pussy until only the tip is inside you, before snapping his hips forward, forcing his cock the deepest it could go back inside you, spearing you apart, and setting an absolutely cruel, delicious, depraved pace that has his balls bruising your ass and his cock breeching your womb.
It goes for what feels like seconds, minutes, hours.
Your legs began to shake at all the sensations, your pussy walls convulsing around him and your ears ringing as you started to see white.
And he truly couldn’t keep it in any longer.
Not when you sounded so hot, with your face scrunched up in the prettiest ‘o’ and your nails digging crescents into his back as you called his name, begging for his seed.
And so he bucked up, his hips flush against yours, locking you into the meanest of mating presses, as his dick lurched, balls scrunching, as he pumped copious amounts of his thick, sticky cum straight into your womb.
And he’s still bucking his hips, through each of your peaks, fucking his cum deep inside you, until your belly was bloated and full of him.
“Thattaa girl,” he pressed a warm kiss to your mouth as he fucked you through the last few peaks of your orgasms, gingerly swiping his thumb across your cheek as if you were something precious. “My girl.”
And later on, as you softly drifted to sleep, with a belly full of his cum and his softening dick still inside you, you could feel his scarred lips pressing light kisses across your face, and the mumblings of something that sounded vaguely too close to “iloveyou” whispered into your warm skin.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
Five weeks passed, and the Michigan Wolverines were in the midst of the NCAA College Football Championships.
After weeks of non-stop practice, conditioning, strength training, and late-night film recaps, the team of 100-odd men were finally going up against their biggest competitor in the nation.
There was much on the line, but thankfully, Senior Quarterback and Captain, Toji Fushiguro, had quite the good luck charm on his side.
Not only did he pass Kinetics (albeit by the skin of his teeth, thanks to you), but he now had a new, fool-proof pre-game regimen (with an even better success rate!).
He still kept his same protein shake recipe.
He still kept his same choice of attire.
But this time around, he needed at least one hour of your undivided attention, with the provision that his cock be buried so deep and raw inside your trembling cunt that you could feel him in your womb.
And it was only after intense, depraved, animalistic fucking, with your pussy stuffed full of his gooey cum, and hickies in the shape of a ‘T’ on your neck, could the 6’4 230 lbs man say with absolute certainty, that this championship was in the god damn bag.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
The Wolverines won their final round of the playoffs in a sweeping victory: 52-38.
And the star quarterback of the show could not wait to celebrate with you, his pretty lil’ girlfriend.
mechanic!sevika, clueless!reader, top!sevika, bottom!reader, horny yearning, praise, strap use (r!receiving), rough sev, i call a “wife beater” a wife pleaser
𑣲men n minors dni !!
ִֶָ˖ִ 🔧˚ mechanic!sevika who became immediately infatuated with you the first time she saw you: wearing a loose mini dress, in need of a simple oil change. something in her panicked; she needed to see you again. in an act of both cowardice and desperation she sabotaged your engine...
after only being gone for a week you stand before her, pouting in a way that makes sevika’s clit throb with need.
“i have no idea what happened! my engine was fine until a few days ago!”
sevika gives you a small smirk, trying her best not to give herself away. “no clue, pretty girl. i’ll tell you what—let me fix this for you for free, hm?”
your jaw goes slack with surprise. sevika’s mind immediately goes to all the things she could do with such a pretty mouth.
“you’d do that for me?”
“anything for you~” sevika nonchalantly shrugs.
ִֶָ˖ִ 🔧˚ mechanic!sevika who makes sure you see her covered in soot and sweat after working on your car. she knows you’re looking at each and every curve in her muscular body; at the way the fluorescent lights bounce off her her dark complexion.
“something the matter?” she asks, feigning concern.
face burning, snapping out of your trance you sputter out “n-nope! all good! thanks, see you next time!” you grab your keys scurrying out of the shop, eager for the next time you get to see her.
ִֶָ˖ִ 🔧˚ mechanic!sevika who grunts and groans whenever she comes across a tough screw. opting to use her mechanic arm to unscrew whatever is keeping her from the problem area. muttering to herself,
“mmh—fuck! tough ass bolt,” …. “ngh…goddamn it…”
ִֶָ˖ִ 🔧˚ mechanic!sevika runs her own shop with about four employees so most nights it’s just you and her. she plays soft rock music while she works on your car. you watch her legs from under your car, catching a glimpse of her strong arm every now and then. the sight makes you clench your legs together.
sevika has a sixth sense for you at this point, she peaks from underneath the vehicle, quietly watching you squeeze your plush legs together. it couldn’t be coincidence that you always wore short skirts when you came to get your car worked on…
once she’s done, sevika rolls out from under your car, grunting as she stands. “all done, d’you have any questions?”
she towers over you in your seated position. you can’t help but stare at her beefy chest and grease-stained shirt. sevika raises an eyebrow.
“up here, girl.”
instinctively you look up.
“good girl, now did you have any questions?”
you struggle to maintain eye contact, it’s no use anyway, the way your voice quivers completely gives you away.
“uhm… no, thanks a-again!” you stand to take your keys and scurry as usual, but sevika uses her mechanic arm to pin your body against the wall.
“you sure? nothing else i can help you with?” she draws out her words teasingly.
ִֶָ˖ִ 🔧˚ mechanic!sevika who now has you propped up on her work bench, miscellaneous tools and parts discarded across the concrete floor.
sevika mercilessly drills into your leaking pussy, her pace is relentless yet you don’t dare to tell her to stop. you’ve dreamt about her bullying your pussy like this far too long to let it stop.
sevika’s thick strap completely fills you up, leaving you speechless at the borderline overwhelming sensation. you weakly grab at her wife pleaser, your back arching against her chest.
“that’s right,” sevika deeply huffs in your ear, “doing so so good for me, keep it up pretty girl…”
cw: face slap, heavy degradation kink but also praise kink because she likes to fuck with you like that, orgasm denial, spit kink, mommy kink. all consensual!
dombottom!sevika x subtop!reader where you want to pleasure sevika in other ways but lack experience with straps, so sevika takes advantage of that.
you put on a strap, one of the thickest, longest ones, and sevika ties your wrists and ankles so she can ride you relentlessly while humiliating you. she’s so wet, receptive, fucking dripping while going up and down on your dick, but you can’t move, can’t hold and squeeze her teasing hips, can’t do much with your own hips either, so you just turn into a sobbing, pathetic mess below her.
sevika chuckles darkly, one hand cupping your face damp with tears and sweat. “what is it? why is my little fuck toy whining? thought she was better than this.”
“s–sev..please let me–let me touch you! please!” right after the pleas left your mouth, her hand went down on your face.
a smacking sound echoing in the dark room. you pathetically moaned at the action, desperately trying to thrust. she let out another dark chuckle at your freakiness.
“god, you’re such a slut.” she held your face again, holding your chin, stopping the riding for an instant. “you think you have the right to touch me? you can’t even use a strap properly. see this? i need to do all the work because you’re too stupid to do it by yourself. isn’t that true?”
her condescending tone accompanied by a particularly forceful, sudden thrust of her hips that made her breath hitch at the toy’s depth and made you whimper at the pressure against your clit brought tears back again to your eyes. you fought to keep them from falling, feeling even more pathetic for being on the verge of orgasm thanks to her harsh words.
“my poor doll, was mommy too harsh on you?” despite her gentle tone, she slid two fingers into your mouth. you sucked them immediately. “good girl. maybe you’re not too dumb.”
she applied a bit of downward pressure on your tongue, a silent command to open your mouth. then, she gathered saliva and spat it into your mouth, withdrawing her fingers so you would close and swallow. as soon as she saw your throat move with the swallow, she returned to her starting position and resumed bouncing on your strap. strongly, faster, insatiable.
sevika’s moans and grunts were back. a perfect melody to your ears and a perfect vision for your needy mind.
“keep your mouth shut and maybe...ah..maybe i will let you cum tonight.”
Warnings: future mother-in-law!Sevika, fauxcest? Maybe?, reader is bi (ik kill me I'm sorry), g!p Sevika, dub-con, being laced, breeding + breeding kink, creampie, overstimulation.
Impatient. Everytime you come to visit, Sevika gets more and more upset by the fact that you're not knocked up. You're dating her son and for the love of god she doesn't know what he's doing... but it's wrong. Sevika is convinced she could get the job done with one fuck, and then you'd be swelling with a kid like you've always wanted.
When she first met you, she liked that you knew what you wanted with her son, you knew you wanted a family- and god you were so sweet, she knew you'd make a great, caring mother. If she's being completely honest, all she wants to see is you glowing and swollen, carrying the child that will continue her strong bloodline, keep the family going.
So, when she first had the idea of taking it into her own hands... she told herself it was insane, that you'd never agree to it. Why would you let your partners parent knock you up? Though your gaze always lingered on her, she noticed because hers lingers on you too. You're a pretty little thing, young and willing to experience anything at least once - which is why Sevika decided to try, just once. If you didn't reciprocate then she'd back off... maybe.
"Still not happened yet honey?" Sevika asks casually as you sit on the couch, sipping the tea she made you with a relaxant pill slipped in. It wouldn't cloud your judgement or anything, you were still conscious and well though any anxiety you might feel wouldn't rise to the surface.
"No." You let out a small sigh, setting your mug down on the coffee table. "We've been trying but it's not... it's not happening."
Sevika can see the glint of something in your eyes, sadness maybe, or frustration?
"You really want it, don't you honey?" Natrually she pats your thigh, squeezing the soft flesh underneath her fingertips. At her touch your breath catches slightly, her hand was a lot higher up on your thigh than a casual touch... yet you didn't hate it, in fact you felt guilty for liking it so much.
"Maybe it's something to do with me... maybe my eggs aren't right or something..."
No. Sevika wouldn't have that. She refused to let you think that this was your fault, it was clearly her sons fault.
So... she did something about it. Like the perfect future mother-in-law she is.
⊹˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•₊˚⊹
"Take it baby, takin' it so good for me... just a little longer, sweet girl-" The wet plap plap plap echoed off the walls as Sevika's hips met yours with each punishing thrust. Her hand was tangled in your hair at the base of your neck, pulling your head up just enough so you could see yourself in the floor to ceiling mirror.
You were on your knees, breasts squished flat into the floor, hands fisting in the rug beneath you. With each pummel of her cock deep inside you, your hips and ass were jiggling with the impact. Soft moans and whimpers were all you could let escape now- Sevika had wrung three orgasms out of you before fucking you, before manhandling you to the floor to breed you properly. "Look so f'kin pretty like this, sweetheart. All cryin' and whinin' for me... gonna fill you up so good.. so good..."
All you want is to tell her that it's too much, it feels too good. The words die in your throat as another pathetic moan is ripped from you instead. Your head felt light, like you were floating on clouds, sex had never felt so good, so right... Sevika loved it, how accepting you were of her harsh thrusts, her rough hands on you hips as she pulled you back onto her with zero resistance.
The pill was a good idea.
A creamy, white ring was forming around the base of her cock, forming white strings that kept her connected to with each grind of her hips. She runs her hands up and down your sides, letting out a guttural groan as her still still, thighs twitching as her second load bursts into you, filling you up. "That's it love... told you 'm gonna get get you nice and swollen f' me."
From the way her hips started up again, you could tell Sevika was nowhere near finished with you... and everything in you loved it. Wanted more. Wanted... her. Even if it was wrong, it felt so right.
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if you’re maga or close to someone who is - hell, if you aren’t adamantly against maga - you really don’t belong in a fandom filled with queer people, women, disabled people and poc.
this comes from seeing a certain sevika writer agreeing with the stupid ‘it’s none of my concern if my friends are maga, we just need to love one another’ bullshit.
this is no longer ‘just political’. it is a complete lack of morals.
Drabble: g!p Sevika who walks like it's heavy. That's it.
If there's one thing about Sevika that you adore, it's the way she walks.
Since the very first time you saw her, her walk told you everything you needed to know. She was tall and broad, muscles bulging even when relaxed. Natraully a protector... at least of what she feels needs protecting.
Though the thing you noticed? It's heavy.
Sevika walks around with the confidence she absolutely should have, knowing she's packing a thick, heavy, fat, girthy cock in her pants. Snatched waist, hips that sway like she knows exactly how to use it. A natural advantage that destroys you in the most delicious way.
Her bulge almost always looks like she's aroused even when she's not. The moster tucked away but undeniably there, unable to hide the sheer size of it. And when she's a little chubbed up from watching you do... well anything? She can't hide it. Has to sit down for ten minutes.
From the early days of your relationship she set rules... disguised as being for you but if she was honest they're mostly for her. No kisses longer than a peck in public, she doesn't want to be walking around visibly excited when she know people would be able to tell. On top of that you're not allowed to wearanything too sexy or pretty for the exact same reason- not unless you're willing to let her take you to the bathroom to sort the issue you created.
romaincrisis
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