Interluded

Luffy 

Your captain has no clue what day he lives in, much less that Valentine’s is coming, but thankfully, he’s got Sanji for that. 

So, when the day comes, he’s shoved into your room with a box of chocolates, a bouquet of flowers and the threat that if he dares eat any of the chocolates, the cook will shove his foot so far up inside his ass it will come out of his mouth. 

Sanji still can’t believe you decided to give your heart and soul to that monkey (he swears he loves his captain) 

You spend the evening in your room. Hearing him rant about anything and anything, laugh at his own jokes and play a guessing game only he can understand. 

In many ways, Luffy is a simple man and that brings you comfort. There are no hidden intentions, no mixed feelings or miscommunications. His love is clear and honest. Luffy just is. 

Which is why the words that come out of his mouth do not surprise you. 

“If I finger you, can I finish the rest of the candy?” 

No need to ask. 

Luffy might be oblivious to most things, but he knows you. And he knows exactly how you like it. Two of his fingers explore your insides like a map, massaging your walls and pressing against the places that make your toes curl. His lips suck on your tits, tongue running on top of them, his saliva making your skin shine. 

“Luffy...” You whine, grabbing onto the pillow with one hand and palming his cock over his shorts with the other one. He’s rock hard but seems to be in no rush to fuck you, content with the taste of your skin on his tongue. 

He hums against your skin before pulling away, a thread of spit connecting your nipple to his lips. He looks around, looking for something on the bed, but his fingers don’t stop for a second, his middle and index moving in a “come hither” motion while his thumb toys with your clit, “there they are!” He’s quick to grab the box of chocolates and open it up with his free hand.  

Food and sex together aren’t a weird concept in your relationship, so you pay no mind to it. That is, until he’s biting on a jam-filled candy and letting some of its filling fall on one of your nipples. Your eyebrows furrow, and your mouth opens in a gasp when he sucks it off you. 

“You make them taste even better, sweets”, he says more to himself, but you can see that the sweet treat has done something to him. His eyes are now half lidded, his mouth dribbles even more, and his pace grows harder. 

“Luffy! Fuck just like that!” You push your tits closer to his mouth. 

He continues the action again and again until the entire box is empty and you’re blissed out from the pleasure. It’s then that he says, 

“Now, I’m craving something else.” He licks the remains of the sugar off his lips and pulls down his shorts; his cock slaps against his abdomen. 

“That candy was great, Sanji! Thanks!” The younger man says as he pats his cook on the back. 

“Sure,” Sanji answered, defeated. No anger or energy left as he knows it was his fault Luffy got laid last night... fucking lucky monkey. 

Zoro 

Marimo is dumb when it comes to a lot of things. Directions, for example. But when it comes to you, one or two gears work in his brain. 

“You don’t have to remind me, twirly brows.” He says as he does crunches. 

“We don’t?” For once, Sanji is pleasantly surprised by the mosshead. 

“I’ve already got covered.” 

Nami doesn’t buy it. She narrows her eyes as she asks, “What did you get her?” 

“There was this fine liquor store at the last isla...” A punch landed on his head before he could finish. 

“I fucking knew it!” 

He isn’t that stupid... It’s just that alcohol clouds his thinking. 

Sanji and Nami have to punch him and get him back to his right senses, but in the end, it all works out. 

Rice balls, your favourite dessert, and, of course, sake. All while looking at the stars from the crow’s nest. You lean on his chest while he hugs you from behind. No words are needed; his touch and love are all you need. 

It isn’t until you feel his lips travelling down your neck, sucking on the skin, that you remember that drunk Zoro tends to be more handsy than sober Zoro. 

Your face is squished against the cold wood, your hands barely able to keep you in place, but that’s the last thing on your mind. His thrusts are brutal, unforgiving. Your juices spill down your cunt and his cock and land on the floor. Screams and cries of pleasure fall from the window, alerting the crew and any other ships near you. And Zoro couldn’t feel any prouder. 

“You like it rough, don’t you, woman.” He says as he takes a sip from the sake bottle. 

“Mmhm,” you nod, “yes, Zoro, please fuck me harder”, you whine. 

He laughs, but gives it to you, “You are such a whore for my cock.”  

His balls slap against your clitoris, your boobs bounce at his rhythm, and your hips bruise from his hard grip. His cock stretches and moulds your insides with every stroke; you have never been able to get used to his size, and you are sure you never will. Tan, long, thick, with multiple veins running across it, and a bulbous tip. You have explored it with every inch of your mouth and cunt; you are completely in love with his cock, and Zoro knows it. 

His hands spread your cheeks, watching the way his dick goes in and out of your sweet cunt, a white, milky ring around every time it comes out. 

“Tightest fucking cunt,” he moans. His dirty mouth is always what drives you crazy, he’s got no shame and no regard, speaking freely of how he feels or likes about fucking you, “you gonna make me cum, baby? Want me to fill you up?” 

“Yes! Yes, yes, yes, Zoro. Please cum inside me.” 

“Don’t worry, girl. I’m gonna fuck you full.” 

His pace quickens, his hips moving with purpose. At this point, you can barely gasp his name; your head filled with only air and him. Your fingers press on your clit, your legs quiver and clench, desperate for release. 

“Come on, woman. Cum on my cock.” 

Your legs give out, but his hands are there to support you. He pulls you and presses you against his chest, continuing to move his hips as you chase your high. Your clit is beyond sensitive and exhausted, but the look he gives you is enough to fire you back up. 

“I’m not done with you.” 

The next day, while you can barely walk, he’s training his heart out. 

You sit next to Robin and Usopp, your head lying on the table as you groan from your tensed muscles. 

“Rough night?” Robin teases. 

“More like he gave it to her, rough,” Usopp adds. 

You feel like dying from embarrassment and tiredness. 

Robin just laughs behind her hand. 

Sanji 

The absolute master when it comes to romantic holidays 

He’s been preparing himself for this date for months (mentally for years, but no one must know that) 

Buying the finest ingredients at every island the crew stops, spending his entire share of money in things he knows you’d love and that remind him of you. 

In a calendar, he crosses out each day, getting closer and closer to the fateful date (Zoro makes fun of him every morning, and that’s the first fight of the day for both) 

Makes a list of everything he plans on cooking, decorating and doing for you and the crew (well..., more like you and the girls) 

The night before, make sure to secure the fridge with what appears to be a thousand locks and traps. Luffy still tries, but the sea stone chains seem to do the trick (thank gods) 

When the morning finally arrives, you find the cutest outfit hanging on the door, courtesy of your boyfriend’s money and Nami’s fashion input. 

And Sanji between your legs.  

He couldn’t help himself; he just had to have dessert first. 

“Sanji!” Your nerves and senses are just waking up, but you can feel every single stroke from his mouth. He alternates from sucking on your clit, humming around the little bud, and swiping his tongue up and down your entrance, licking and thrusting himself inside you. 

“Good morning, my love.” He pulls away for just a second, giving you a bright smile. His lower face is covered in your slick; the view makes you clench. “Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart.” 

You open your mouth to answer, but only a moan escapes it. Sanji’s fingers were unforgiving in their pace, looking for that tender place inside of you. 

“You look absolutely beautiful, mon amour.” He mumbles against your core before diving back in. 

Sanji is no messy eater. He’s careful, precise and romantic; he knows your body better than he knows his own. You are a delicacy and deserve to be eaten as such. 

You grip and pull on the sheets, your legs tremble and close around his head, and your teeth break the skin of your lips, trying to conceal your moans so as not to wake up the rest of the crew. 

“Please, please, please, Sanji...” you beg, but he’s giving you everything and more. 

“Come on, my love. Give it to me, cum on my mouth.” He says against your lips, his tongue coming out to give a long lick on the underside of your clitoris. 

One of your hands comes up and pulls on your nipples while the other pulls on his hair, your head is thrown back, and you lift your hips off the bed. The chef is immensely enamoured with the view, his hips thrusting and humping against your bedding, trying to relieve some of the tension. 

“Cum, baby, please, cum for me.” 

And you do. The knot finally snaps, and your juices fly out of you, his face and the bed getting covered in them. His hand quickly moves to your clit, rapidly flicking it to prolong your pleasure. 

“Yes, yes, just like that, baby. Thank you, my sweet.” 

After that wonderful wake-up, he brings you breakfast in bed and continues doting on you. 

(By the way, Luffy is quite annoyed at the fact that only you get to have breakfast in bed.) 

Ace 

He’s somewhat prepared. 

He asked Thatch to teach him how to make a cake, but he figured if the cake took forty-five minutes at 175 °C to bake, then he could just triple the temperature, and that would lessen the time. With his Devil Fruit, that would be easy enough, right? 

Well, a burnt kitchen, a punch to the head and a visit to Marco made it clear that no, that wasn’t the way. 

One burnt cake and a lot of begging later, Ace found himself with a perfectly good cake. One, he had to fight the urge not to shove it down his throat. 

Izou was also nice enough to help him choose a lipstick for you. Ace was quite hesitant to ask him for help (since you still harbour a crush on the older commander), but the wanojin was a gentleman about it. Or at least, he tried. 

“I think this one will look nice on her, Ace,” Izou said, handing him the small tub. 

“Thanks, man.” He put on his backpack. 

“Sure. I’m sure she will look just as gorgeous as that night...” The samurai teased. 

“Okay, okay, man. Fuck off.” 

That night you had eaten cake, drank sake, laughed, danced and kissed by the light of the moon and the ease of the sea. The world seemed to disappear when it's just the two of you. 

You were elated and so, so grateful for your boyfriend, and you needed to thank him, repay him for such a date. 

A lightbulb went off. 

“Oh gods, baby girl.” Ace moaned, leaning back against the ship’s mast. 

You moved your head back and forth, lips wrapped around his thick cock, tongue tracing the underside. Your eyes firm on his, tearful from when you’d gag. 

His tongue traced his lips, then his teeth bit them, moans, cries and promises came out of them. He’d give you world, sun, moon and stars, whatever you want, just please, please suck him deeper. 

“Fuck, I fucking love your mouth, baby.” He let out a pleased laugh. 

Relaxing your throat, you took him deeper. Your jaw protesting, your breathing heavy and laboured, cheeks covered in tears, and you fighting back on your gag reflex, but you loved every second of the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. 

You moaned around him, sending shivers down his spine. Then, you pulled away, gasping for air, your hand quick to replace your mouth. Saliva dripped down his shaft, your lips and hands, but you didn’t care. Your hand tightened around his length, jerking him just like he likes it. Your lips wrapped around the head, sucking and licking it, next your tongue travels up and down the rest of his dick. 

“You are so fucking good, so fucking good.” He groans. His fingers thread through your hair, pulling you closer to him. His hips move involuntarily, thrusting inside your mouth. His skin feels warmer than usual, and you know he’s losing control of his powers. 

You pull him out and spit on it, your hand focusing on the tip, “cum in my mouth, Ace.” 

He looks down at you and moans loudly. He absolutely loves cumming inside your mouth; it’s his second favourite thing. 

You show him your tongue, slapping his cock against, “please, please daddy, cum in my mouth.” Your eyes beg for it. 

His breathing grows heavier, his abs contract, his neck and face are pink-tinted and sweat runs down his freckles. One of his hands runs over his hair, pulling on it while the other caresses the back of yours. His hips move desperately; he can feel it, it’s coming. 

“I’m gonna, I’m gonna cum, baby girl.” He moans. 

You suck harder, faster. You need it. 

He fucks your mouth with such fervour you know there will be a bruise at the back of it, but you don’t care. 

“Fuck!” Spurts of his thick seed fill your mouth; his grip tightens on your hair, and hearts cover your eyes. Ace cumming is the most beautiful view in the world. Drowsy eyes, plumped, bitten lips, blushed, freckled cheeks and chest and the sweetest, hottest smile in the world. 

Ace went about his day as any other, happy and blissful from last night's events, oblivious to someone’s eyes. 

“’s a good, it was me who was on night watch and not Pops, right Acey?” 

The freckled went stiff, turning to the man watching him on the side. Izou. Izou with the biggest smile on his face. 

Law 

Sucks at romance and anything love-related but know he’s trying. He’s just stupid. 

Sachi and Penguin desperately try to help, but he quickly realises that even if those two get laid, it does not mean they know jack shit about love. 

(Dear gods, what would Cora-san do?) 

(Trip downstairs and light himself on fire probably, but with a bouquet of roses in hand nonetheless) 

So, Ikakku and Bepo are his best bets on that ship. 

Law may be a great captain, surgeon and pirate, and he happens to be hot, but my gods is he dumb. 

“Captain, you’ve been dating her for months; you cannot be this clueless.” Ikkaku groans. 

Law pouts and crosses his arms over his chest, looking away. Just like a small child, “I fail to see what’s wrong with my idea.” 

“Looking around for and classifying coins is not a date, Captain,” Bepo says, trying not to cry from the absurdity of the plan. 

“To me it is.” The surgeon grumbles. 

He and the polar bear plan and coordinate to stop at an island so you can have a date. Everything's been carefully examined and detailed to Law’s standards, but when does life ever go his way? 

That morning, he finds out the fucking Marine has completely taken over the island and its perimeters, so you had to change course immediately. The nearest island is two days away. Well, fuck. 

He’s pulling his hair out from the stress, barking orders around and hysterically looking for an idea. 

“Law?” You poke your head inside his office. His eyes are scanning every romance novel on the ship, but he finds nothing; all of them end in suicide. He just might... 

“Law.” You try again, this time stepping in. A tray in your hands. Two cups of tea, a candle, some matches, and two cups of instant noodles. 

His heart instantly churns at the sight. Of course, you had been the only one to pull something together. He can’t help but think you deserve better. 

“Love...” He’s out of words, the anxiety and exhaustion of the date finally catching up to him. 

“Bepo told me. Do not stress about it, babe. Happy Valentine’s Day.” You leaned down, kissing his cheek. 

Law groans, that wide mouth bear. 

The rest of the evening is spent with you sitting on his legs, sipping tea, recounting old tales and discussing various themes, and you love every second of it. 

Law is bad with feelings or words, but he knows there are other ways. 

“Law!” Your nails scratch his back, leaving angry red marks over the Jolly Roger tattooed on his skin. 

But he can’t seem to care less; his hips continue their assault on your cunt. His lips whisper sins against your ear, his hands grip on your hips, pull you closer and prevent you from slipping away from the pleasure only he can give you, “feel good, sweetheart? Do you like the way my cock’s so deep inside you?” 

You are long gone. Two orgasms with his fingers, one with his tongue, and now chasing another with his member, knocking on your cervix. Your mouth only knows his name, and your eyes gloss from the sight of him. His eyes dazed, passion and lust fill them, his eyebrows furrow and his lips open and close with every thrust. Moans and groans end up in your neck, along with some hickies. 

Law usually doesn’t allow himself to lose control like this, but he figures today is a special date. Sex tonight is loud, messy, and raw. He hasn’t felt this alive in years. 

His pace quickens, his rhythm grows desperate with every second, and the idea of you cum around his cock is the only thing on his mind. 

“Harder, faster, more, more, more, Law!” You don’t know what else you are asking for, but you can feel yourself hanging over the edge, just a bit more. 

And it's like he knows, his fingers press on your clit, drawing circles on top of it, that’s enough. You cum around his cock with a gasp and trembling, but he doesn’t relent. Your nerves cry in overstimulation, but Law is not done, not until he feels you again. 

“You are going to give me another one.” He declares. His hips don’t stop, and neither do his fingers and mouth. 

“’s too much...” you whine, throwing your head back and pushing against his chest. But he doesn’t allow you to run away. 

“One more, give me one more. Milk my cock, love.” His words are getting crasser, nastier, and that’s how you know Law’s head is filled with pleasure just as much as yours. 

“Law!” You cry out. 

“One more, one more...” He continues saying. Even if his cum drips down your cunt and legs, even if it can’t fit anymore inside of you. 

The next morning is payback for keeping the crew awake the entire night. 

“My gods, if you two are going to be that loud and nasty, at least have the decency to invite me, even if it's to watch,” Shachi says, while drinking his coffee, a smile on his face and dark bags under his eyes. 

“Shachi!” Law scolds him. 

Sabo 

You firmly believe there’s nothing hotter than a revolutionary. 

Sabo is that in the complete sense of the word. Dauntless, radical, rebel, mighty, strategic. His sense of justice took your breath away the second he opened his heart and mouth. 

And while your boyfriend is all that, he’s also a clueless idiot whose head is filled with food, his brothers, Dragon..., and, of course, you. 

It’s up to Koala and Ivankov to help him not disappoint his girlfriend on such a day. 

“You may be chief of staff, but you are also so unbelievably stupid it almost hurts, Sabo-kun,” Ivankov says as they arrange a beautiful bouquet of flowers. 

Koala nods as she watches him write a letter for you (that actually was his idea, but she left a big bump on his forehead just so he didn’t forget to do it.) “I know, I know.” He laughs but is secretly scared of receiving another “reminder” from his best friend. 

Dinner, flowers, gifts, the letter and a walk along Ivankov’s island’s beach. Quite the date if you were to ask Sabo, yet he couldn’t help but feel like something was once missing. 

Ah, right. 

Your thighs are burning from the motion, your knees crying from the sand that’s digging itself onto your skin, but you don’t dare stop. For his pleasure, and, selfishly, mostly for yours. His cock is hitting right on the spot, your entire body shivering in delight and encouraging you to go harder. Your hair disheveled, clothes wrinkled and stained, panties pushed to the side, tits popping out of your dress, and his pants pulled down just below his waist. 

Sabo is lying on the sand, arms behind his head and a bright smile on his face, biting his lips sometimes, moaning freely. The view is simply immaculate. You, jumping on top of him, choking his cock as your life depended on it, your tits bounce deliciously, and the ethereal look on your face is the most gorgeous you’ve ever looked. Using him for your own pleasure, he won’t complain about it. 

“Come on, baby. Give it to me harder, I know you want to.” His words rile you up, making you clench harder around him. 

“Oh gods, Sabo!” You close your eyes and scream, as nobody can hear you. And if anyone does, your boyfriend doesn’t care. 

He lifts one of his hands, “Slap!”, a hard smack against your bottom. 

You cry out, loving the pain, craving more of it, “Yes, please, please, more” 

He lands an even harder slap, “You like that, baby? You like being treated like a slut?” 

Your muscles are begging you to stop, but you can’t, you won’t, “Yes, Sabo!” 

“Who do you belong to?” Smack! 

“You!” 

Smack! “Who?” 

“Sabo!” Tears spill down your face, euphoria crawling all over your body. 

“Louder!” Smack! 

“Sabo!” It was simply too much. Your climax exploded between the two of you, head spinning, vision blurred, your legs shaking, and finally giving out, making you fall on top of him. You pressed yourself closer to his neck and cried out when his hips continued where you left off. 

“The island is big, Sabo; you guys didn’t have to fuck twenty feet away from the base,” Dragon said, pressing his hand against his eyelids, exasperated. 

Usually you’d hate for people to offer help when you’re forced to do something you were unprepared for, taking the sentiment as a passive aggressive version of getting called incompetent but this time, you ponder while rereading the sweet little note in green ink— of course he used green ink to avoid students from being discouraged — and it's one of those times your stupidity has done you some good.

It’s an hour and a half later when class ends, people filing up to leave the doors of the lecture hall when a voice calls out to you. 

You smile at your professor, a little strained, but it’s okay, you tell yourself, you expected it. You walk up to him, bag on your shoulder, unzipped because you rushed down. You’re still smiling when you’re there, already preparing for what he has to say. 

The smile falls and you sigh, “I know that look.”

He’s standing with his arms crossed, dark shades balanced on his straight nose, looking down at you with nothing short of paternal disappointment. “Yes, and you shouldn’t be too familiar with it either. Seventy-five? really? I thought we were talking recommendation letters last week, turns out you’re barely passing my class?”

You swallow back, not really knowing what to do so you kinda just stand there awkwardly, waiting for him to air out his worries. “I know it's like, a little weird to put this much pressure on you but c’mon kid, you’re looking at being the next assistant after Choso to help your resumé right?” 

You nod, still not saying anything, but you can’t deny how you perk up when you heard his name. 

Your professor pauses briefly mid rant after spotting how you only met his eyes when he mentioned his current TA’s name, a light bulb flickers on in his head. 

He squints, “You’ve been familiar with each other, correct?”

“Yes, sir.” You’re quick to reply, stopping yourself from physically gulping out of nervousness. 

“He been showing you the ropes bit by bit?” he mutters, uncrossing his arms and leaning over the desk. 

“Bit by bit, yes.” You echo, unable to reply without being scared of saying the wrong thing to tick him off.

“And…” He feigned thinking about it, fidgeting with he pen in his hand and tapping the butt end of it on a thick stack of paper. “…He’s also helping with lessons to keep your grades up?” 

You say nothing, keeping your mouth flat and shut. You peer up at him, and shake your head slowly, “No sir.”

He tsks, standing up to his full height. “It’s not necessary but  you’re aware there’s an average for you to keep up just to become a TA right? We wouldn’t want students biting off more than they could chew.”

You nod once more, though this time, a lot more fervently. “I—yes, sorry. I’ll-“

“Get to it, yeah.” He finished for you, tucking his hands in the pockets of his slacks. He waits for you to move, watching how you’re still standing there and waiting for him to also tell you to move. You’re so alike, he thinks. 

He nods upwards, dismissing you. You thank him while you’re already turned your back, eagerly making your way to your next mission.

Gojo watches the door swing inwards from the impact of your departure, a smile in his tone when he mutters to no one, “That’ll give her some motivation.”

You’re rushing to your next class now, given the fifteen minute grace period you were granted had now been shaved down to ten, no thanks to your professor, forcing you to take two steps at a time when making your way to the other side of the building. 

You’re looking down at your phone, deleting and retyping a message in your instagram dms. It’s when you pass the stairway that an unexpected force uncontrollably comes on to you. You thud against it, breathe caught, hand tightly clutching at your phone. You stumble on your steps, holding onto the closest thing you feel for. You don’t fall, you don’t even come close to the ground, but your knees certainly felt like they couldn’t carry you.

Because here you stood against a very worried, very tightly holding you, Choso Kamo. Your mind blanks, your class just a few doors away, forgotten. Unintentionally, a small smile spreads on your face. 

“Hey, I was—“ He laughs nervously, “I was looking for you.” His hands wrap around your nearly limp arms, almost covering the expanse of it, yet held at a respectable position.

“You okay?” He tilts his head down to meet your eyes, a look of concern etching back on his terribly handsome face, he swallows thickly and you watch his adam’s apple bob decorating his thick neck.

 He takes a second to peer back at the stairs, then back to you before he realizes how his grip still clutched on you. “I’m sorry.” He pulls his hands down at his sides, unsure of what to do with them. “I was about to-“

“-Me too actually.” Cutting him off, you couldn’t help but smile even wider, uncaring if you looked too excited. You raised your phone, “Was about to send a dm but I got class in like,” You flip the screen to face you, “two minutes.” A pinch of apprehension makes its way to you but you push it back. 

His eyes widen behind his rectangular frames, lenses making them appear bigger than they actually are.  

“Really? Shit, “ He cursed, regretful,  “I don’t have class anymore so I could just wait out—”

“Sit in with me?” It comes out of you before you could stop it. “—or not.” You quickly add, retreating. “I could just go and email you.”

“No—I mean, Of course. Yes. Me, I’ll go.” He smiled with a toothy grin, ignoring how you said email instead of your socials in hopes you won’t bring up how he stuttered over his words.  You’re caught off guard and before you know it, he’s already making his way to the door without even being sure which class it was. 

He’s reaching for the handle when you stop him, “Oh, next door, please.” He nods bashfully, adjusting the strap of his comically small backpack on himself and apologizes under his breath. He follows you inside, you push, prying the door open. His palm flat against the wood, effortlessly holding it for you both. 

Luckily your professor hadn’t been in class yet, so you  weren’t spotted as the only late comer (technically no, with company, you weren’t.) The class was sparsely filled as it was only part of your minor and this schedule wasn’t as popular, so you could basically sit anywhere. You scan over the room, and you spot some seats at the very front. You’re about to take a step forward when you realize you’re being a little rude. 

“Where d’ya wanna sit?” You ask, head tilted up with a smile. You try to ignore the gleefulness that comes with the idea you’re gonna be seated next to him. Again, you push this feeling down, knowing it’s completely unprofessional and straight up childish. Though conversely, what you feel for him is not in the slightest, childish. 

“Back, definitely.” He answers a little too fast, blinking to check with you. “If you want.” He adds. 

He’s so polite, you could just die. 

You find comfortable seating by the right side of the class, second to last row and close to the back per request. This classroom was a little smaller, so distance from the whiteboard wasn’t really an issue.

You’re listening to your elderly professor repeat instructions about a future assignment and knowing he’s just going to be posting the guidelines, you just tune him out again, distracted. You have to learn to stop doing that.

But you’re shamelessly peeking at the side, Choso’s writing something down, you watch his face as he continues without a care in the world, back hunched down to get closer to the papers maybe, tongue poking the inside of his cheek in focus. You look down at what he’s writing when he flips the sheet over, the sound of the paper is quiet amongst the loud hum of the air conditioner.

 He’s checking something, a test again? You wonder if yours is there. Something catches your eye, he’s even writing down notes in the side for each correction. Maybe he’s also writing notes of encouragement for others. You don’t wanna wanna act all sensitive but something in your chest dampens. A lick of disappointment knowing you weren’t just given a little extra effort.

You shift in your seat, suddenly aware that you completely distracted yourself again and let your overactive imagination take over. You bite your cheek, brushing off the disappointment and sit properly on your seat. It moves the entire table though, you moved a little too roughly. Choso backs up in his chair, the commotion throwing off your professor in his fruitless discussion.

You gasp before immediately turning to check on your hard of hearing professor. He mumbles some incoherent complaint but you don’t wait to think and just apologize, “Sorry,” and it’s hopefully enough to divert the attention from you both. 

Choso grunts, “No—sorry, my chair was too loud.” He pulls the long, shared desk back with one pull of his hand, before hunching to go back to work. There’s already a furrow in your brows at the apology, and you’re staring at the side of his face, his hand behind his full, overgrown hair, expression mirroring your own except towards his papers. 

You adjust back, only this time you’re a bit farther, scared he’ll probably sense you’re being a little invasive. So you keep your eyes up at the projected screen and let the silence pass, the light sound of the ballpoint scratching paper on the smooth surface of the table and your teacher murmuring mix behind the stupid thoughts interfering and prodding at your composure. 

You made this unnecessarily awkward, eyes looking back down on the paper without trying. You’re still kinda curious what he’s writing down. He’s writing down notes to the side, red pen and all— red pen and all?

You do a double take, your uncontrollable, imposing, borderline deluded thoughts returning back to their place in your hopeless brain. Did he use a red pen for everyone or green? He used green earlier, definitely. What the hell? Why does it matter?

“Can I help you?” The inner monologue in your head ceases at the question. You glance up at him, a crooked smile on his face, dimple gracing his features. He waits for you to say something, you process how it's a little close to a tease. You’re unable to say something and end up nodding.

He smiles, achingly sweet and sincere, still waiting for a response. You blank out, unable to think of a proper fake answer in time. 

A last flick of your gaze at the paper outs your thoughts, he looks down at them. “If you’re looking for any of your own, this isn’t your section’s.” He assures, trying to fill in the silence you were so talented in bringing out in your conversations. 

You giggle out of pure giddiness, unable to hold it in as you act like a school girl and not a college student. It’s probably so strange to him that you’re acting this way  — internally reprimanding yourself is your only avenue for self control at these moments. You hope he doesn’t think the same way. “No um, you’re so focused on writing nice notes for everyone and marking every point.“

He smiles wider, eyes turning into pretty crescents. He shakes his head once, sitting back on his chair, and finally not slouching. Your stomach flips noting how he occupies more than half the seat. He scratches his neck, eyes flicking back at the papers for a moment before meeting yours, then averting again. 

“I don’t think…” He leaned over to read the name on the paper, “…Inumaki, T. thinks my detailed corrections, or rather critiques are very nice, nor the rest of section Z26.” he mumbled the last part, adjusting the collar of his pull over.

“critiques?” You inquire, unconsciously leaning to his side of the desk, closer so you could read them too. Choso hopes you can’t feel the warmth on his cheeks radiating right now. 

He nods his head a little too quickly, despite not being able to see him from where you were. He’s dizzy with the scent of your floral shampoo under his nose, heady and pulling. “Yes, just to help with,” he falters again, your bare arm brushing against his own, clothed one when you point at a certain part of the paper while reading, knees hitting under the table when you’re closely looking down on the sheet. “With the, the uh, future tests yeah-”

Choso watches your lips move but he doesn’t hear what comes out. Right now, he’s pushing away such un-utterable, uncalled for thoughts when his view is your head over what would be is his lap, only being separated by this rickety table. It only gets worse when you shift your eyes at him, wide and up at his tired onyx ones, only now his are a little wider too, something past friendly reflecting in your before averting back down the white sheet.

You’re still reading the paper, taking in the info for each question. “Oh,”

He snaps out of his daze, immediately taking notice of your blank tone. “What’s wrong?” 

You’re processing the words on the essay type test he’s checking and you realize you’ve never seen this kind of test before. “Y’know, now that I’m reading this, I don’t think  we’ve answered this activity yet.” A beat, and Choso flips the paper down.

“Right, that’s probably not good,“ He places a spread out hand over the papers, sheets mix on top of each other, disheveled and disorganized, one nearly falling off the narrow table.

You’re already laughing, “You’re so clumsy,” your hand stopping one of them from flying out of place. 

“No, you probably shouldn’t look at that too-“

“Relax, I don’t have the photographic memory to copy each answer. As much as I wish I did.” You mumble the last part, tucking the papers into an organized pile, facing outwards. “See? No cheating for me.” 

Choso fights the smirk that inches his way under the skin of his cheeks, nodding to you. “I appreciate your integrity.” You return the look on his face except with the stack in your grasp right now, it reflects its white canvas like a soft light on your skin, a sweet warmth overcomes him. “I never told you why I was looking for you.” 

You place the sheets separate from his pile of unfinished work. Pursing your lips, you make a noise of acknowledgment. “Oh, I was thinking the same thing. I didn’t know how to approach you ‘cause it was kinda embarrassing.” 

“Embarrassing how?”

For a while, you contemplate how to make yourself sound less pathetic, trying to amp up how to sound flirtier without breaching whatever boundary of the title you held to him. You wanted to play safe, for now.

“Like to ask for help, I bet it's as funny as someone asking a stupid question since you probably didn’t have to do any of that when you were in my year.” You don’t have to confirm with him whether or not it’s true, Choso’s going straight to a master’s after graduating this year. You’ve been hyping yourself up to ask him out for a while, knowing that he’ll most likely drift from you as a friend with the work that comes with finishing one. 

You truly weren’t looking for any kind of college relationship or even a fling, knowing such places bring unnatural levels of attraction to people who lack self identity, and if you’re being honest, college made you question that part of yourself when you first began.

 Ergo, you focused on yourself for your first year to second. Now, you’re in your third year’s second semester and people are thinking about their thesis and fellowships.  And here you were only starting to make career moves for your future in your third year. 

But you digress, circling back to how all that led you to meet Choso. Someone you’ve made acquaintances with last year during an exhibit at the school’s anthropology museum. Yes, you had an anthropology museum — Jjk technical college was not cheap.

His hair was a tad shorter back then, guiding a bunch of first years through the new exhibit, excitedly discussing some bones and energy. The glint in his eyes was bright and he was wholly unfiltered, charmingly gauche. You had tried to pose a question at the time, wanting to entertain him out of definitely just pure curiosity for Bioarcheology, but second guessed yourself and never approached him again. 

Until, it was that same year you found out he had been the TA for the professor you were aiming for next year (as a second year college student), and you found out he was resigning as the teacher’s assistant from a friend of a friend, and how Gojo had been already looking for a new one early on because Choso was that competent.

You want to say that maybe you joined just because professor Gojo was someone you highly look up to in the field of history research and will grant you a killer recommendation for a future career — which you know he will— there’s an underlying feeling where you also can’t deny that the idea of how it brings you closer to Choso made the position all the more appealing. 

So this year, when Gojo read your CV and decided to accept you out of the many (3 applicants, one was an irregular student, the other a nepo baby), and encouraged Choso to start training you by now, it was like fate realigned itself to bring you closer to him.

Sort of.

Now he was in front of you- beside you, and casually replying with, “ I don’t mind spending my free time with you—tutoring and stuff.” He offers, completely unaware how he gets your stomachs in knots and your heart feels like it's trying to rip out of your ribcage. 

“Really?” You ask too eagerly, he nods for extra reassurance. “It’s just, Historiography just isn’t something I’m good at but I’m also I find it interesting but it’s also really hard but— I also want this.” You size him up,  towards his side of the table. “Y’know, this.” 

He‘s about to point at himself, before looking at the papers and something clicks in place. “Checking papers on top of your thesis, dropping them off at Gojo’s office at 8 am, and getting death stares when I come across his students?”

You nod, almost even more eager, “Absolutely.”

“You’re perfect then.” He says, no hesitation whatsoever. You were eating it up and he was completely unaware. You giggle, heat rushing to your face.

You almost forgot how talking came easy with Choso. It was refreshing to meet someone you could hold a conversation with without feeling like you had to perform all the time, or wonder what to amp up or tone down. He had his intimidating moments at first, like being overqualified for a TA and the unmistakable height, or when you’re overthinking how to impress him and you don’t truly act yourself —  but those impressions crumble effortlessly when you recognize him for his sincerity and obsession with the academe. 

Choso can’t help but let a chuckle bubble in his throat, smooth and rich like a creamy cup of strong coffee. He’s analyzing your face, the apples of your cheeks are out with how wide you smile, he made you smile like that. The fact sits comfortably in his chest. He’s staring at your lips, maybe he can get away with it as him just looking down to your height, the few times he feels his own acted as an advantage for him. 

“…any reason you use green?… Choso?” He blinks, and he’s back in the classroom and you’re now holding your own head with your palm, waiting for him to answer. 

The back of his neck is hot with the thought you could probably notice him zoning out. “I like,” he searches your eyes, hesitating, and then, “I like green, so.” He nods, trying to rationalize his plain answer to himself. 

You’re squinting, “Cool,” nothing behind your tone, just the air that still manages to sit awkwardly between you two, suddenly the old scribbles in the storage part of the desk was so interesting—

“And it's good for not like…” He swallows back his nerves, heart pounding in his ears. “I didn’t wanna discourage students.” 

The admittance runs like oil down your back and you feel like you’ve hit him dead center in what you wanted to hear. “Right,” You look around, a false pretense of thinking in your expression, “So… why the red?” You ask curiously, pen in your hand scratching off the old paint under the desk in anticipation.

He paused like a deer caught in headlights, licking the dryness of his lips. Staring down the sheet of paper, yes it’s red indeed, he thinks. His lips part, you watch the smooth, glossy sheen of it move against the light. “I guess I have a favorite class.” He coughs, feigning the ease he was currently lacking with each word he carefully chose to speak.

Despite the urge to egg him on, you leave it at that, your bravery for the day already expended. You know if you continued you might say something a little irrational, and you’re also afraid to jump his bones too quickly. Though you’re pretty sure he could still hold you up if you tried.

Class ends anti-climactically, your professor waving your class off with a less than interested parting. You’re out of the classroom, Choso following behind when, “So, when do you wanna start? I’m free after class tomorrow and it’s the weekend. I don’t mind staying longer.”

You’re following his pace as you walk through the hallways of your building, aiming for the exit but you’re thinking about what happens after. You’re not fully sure where you’ll end up once you part. Do you just go? He stayed with you the entire boring class, (obviously the only reason why you want to stay longer and none other in particular) surely there must be something you have to do in return.

You’re nearing the exit and you can’t help but feel like you’re letting something slip if you go past the doors without making your thoughts known, “I have this thing with my best friend tomorrow, this is not a very good look for me— I promised I’d do this qualitative interview and—“

He’s quick to reply, “Oh yeah, I totally understand—“

Shit, okay you were not seizing the moment correctly. “You should come with me.” You turn over to him, unable to stop yourself.

Choso all but freezes, “What?”

Okay, no going back now, smacking your lips together before going for the kill. “—With me. Yeah, we could hang out and,” Could you still back out? No. 

“Just, maybe study after? like we could study like… for the,” So much for not wanting to jump his bones, “…whole night.” You can’t look at him any longer, eyes scanning back the outside that now surrounds you. The noises of campus and the lamp posts are bright, projecting a warm white over you. But all this is not enough to comfort you from the trepidation finally shaking your brain.

You watch as Choso’s pale cheeks start to tinge into a flushy pink, eyebrows raising behind his glasses.

 “Oh, okay, yes. Okay!” He nods taughtly, though willing.

You pause, “Okay?” trying to check if he’s serious.

“Sure.” You’re both standing opposite his body, shocked with what you’re hearing from the other as much as you were shocked from the words leaving yourselves. 

A beat passes, leaves rustle, and amidst that you’re silently hoping it won't matter how you didn’t think this through fully. “Five o’clock sound good?”

***

It was a steady, calm-ish afternoon, your best friend Miwa was sat in front of you, laptops laid out on the table. She’s writing down notes and closing up her recording software and you’ve been fixing up your hair, clothes, and picking lint off it. You find a loose thread on your shirt when, “Hey,” You look up, alert. Miwa’s squinting at you, blue hair cast in a warm yellow from the mid-afternoon sun. “You good?”

You’re finger quits picking at yourself, “What? Yeah,” eyes flitting back to the pesky string sticking out of the hem of your top. 

There’s a hum coming from in front of you, “You sure? You’ve been so fidgety this entire time.”

“I am not fidgety.” You say, fidgeting. A sigh comes out of you, and you lean back on your chair, hands coming on top of the arm rests. “You really okay with me bringing Choso?”

At this, Miwa’s lips curl into a smirk. “I knew it.”

Your eyes flick over to the side in thought, then back at her sly expression. “What do you know?”

She’s sitting up from her hunched posture over her laptop, and drinking from her cup of her almost lukewarm coffee, shrugging with her eyes still locked on yours.

Your thumbs come up from the arm rests, “What is it?”

She clears her throat, placing the mug on a coaster. She looks back up, a smirk still planted on her face. “Just that I didn’t know that he was your crush,” she expects you to reply, but you’re still waiting for her to elaborate. “Y’know, Choso.”

“I don’t have a crush on him!”

She squints, “Okay so we’re lying today.”

“It’s merely admiration— and some attraction at most.”

“That’s literally what a crush is based on.”

You’re blinking at her, feeling caught. You bite your tongue, knowing that your best friend out of anyone should be able to catch you in a lie. Or even a truth you lie to yourself about. You speak up, “Well?”

“Y’know I love you.” She starts.

“Oh no.” Dread seeps into your stomach, and you know if she starts somewhere along the lines of sugar coating, the following was about to be some bland truth coated around maybe an even bitter core inside.

“I like Choso! He’s been your friend for a while and I’ve never talked to him but he sounds really devoted to his work, maybe goodlooking, he’s smart, and he’s nice—“

“What would Muta think…?”

She chuckles, softening at the thought of her own boyfriend. “No, I just wanted to keep an eye out for you too when I say this.” She pauses, trying to find a way to word this as pleasantly as possible. “Cause you know how girls talk…”

You latch onto that last part, stomach churning in suspense. “Not really, I don’t.”

She stops herself from cackling at your nervous expression, “I just heard he’s always…nice.” 

“What’s wrong with that?” 

“Like too nice? I guess…it’s really hard to explain babe,“ She cuts herself off, sensing your growing apprehension. She observed how your hands are rubbing on the expanse of your cup, and bringing it to your lips to avoid saying something. She quiets down her tone, now kinda shy about mentioning it. She leans a bit towards you, “Like… in bed, y’know?” 

You sputter in your mug, feeling unwelcome liquid scratch your throat. Miwa’s eyes widen when she watches you cough, eyes turning watery. “Ooh gag reflex, that’s not coming in handy.“

“Fucking shut up-“ You’re coughing still and she’s laughing uncontrollably now. “—I did not expect that.”

She’s wiping the corner of her corneas with a finger, “I—I’m sorry I just had to bring it up.”

You’re more composed now, eyes looking up at the clock, it’s ten minutes to five, and you’re trying to relax. 

You don’t exchange looks with Miwa until a short moment passes for you to think. 

“So have you thought about what it would be like?” You’re back to meeting her eyes, a silent exchange between you both. Miwa smiles at you, lowering her voice and putting a finger up to her ear like an agent, “Then I’m glad to relay information.” She’s giggling when you throw a tissue at her.

You’re already standing out of your seat and making your way to sit beside her. She motions her hand for you to come nearer, both turning your heads when the door chime rings and someone enters, calming down when it’s just some delivery person. You relax, side eyeing her. 

Miwa inches closer, “Okay so I’m friends with this senior from my org and she had a friend who was seeing Choso, sort of? Anyways I mentioned once that you were replacing him and that you’re a little into him, sorry.” You’re beckoning her to continue, not caring much for the last part and nodding along. 

“Anyways, it was like a one night stand thing and — don’t get me wrong I’m not trying to spread rumors or judge,” Another pause, and you’re already on the edge of your seat. 

“Well? Go on,” You pull her in, arms tangled and clutching her, knee jittering. 

“I heard he was kinda scared in bed? Like maybe he has a phobia or something.” Your knee stops, and you’re now confused, “It’s just kinda odd ‘cause the guys like a unit, right?” a crease forms between your brows. “Maybe he’s like… a power bottom?” she whispered, tone serious.

You’re nodding, taking in the information with actual consideration. “Possibly,” You’re fully facing her now, “Y’know…he is a TA.” 

It’s Miwa’s turn to be confused, struggling to find the correlation. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You fight the expression trying to pull on your lips, you nibble on the skin then let go, “I’d say he’s good at being told what to do.”

Miwa’s eyes widened, before adding, “Tell me when you find out.” A second where you’re both quiet and then you’re being shook by the shoulders, both of you squealing and chortling in your corner. It would be no surprise if you’ve caught the attention of other customers with your commotion. 

She quits with the shaking, now smoothing over the fabric over your shoulders for messing up your top. “So what are you gonna do about it?”

You can’t help but entertain your imagination, “I mean I think I’m too conscious to be playing around too much.” Your friend nods along, supportive. Past these exciting thoughts, it was all a front for the feelings you struggled to word out, “I really like him, Miwa.”

She parts her lips but as if on cue, another chime from the door rings once more. He stood by the entrance for a brief moment, barely scanning the vicinity when he locked eyes on you, a cheeky grin lighting up his face. 

***

“—I think they never made any real contact.”

“No, that’s definitely up for debate.”

Miwa watches your back and forth, pen in hand. Choso decided to be part of her research sample as well, given that he’s already here, he should make use of his time. And he didn’t mind, he liked helping out. 

If only he could actually speak and answer the questions without you guys debating every time one of you made an opinion on something vaguely related to Miwa’s research topic.  At first it was good, your opinions can be added too but now she’s running out of space in her storage with how long this unintentional joint interview was going.

“Okay guys, the interview questions are about historical revisionism. While I do see the correlation, how did we end up in Egypt and…?”

“Ancient Mesopotamia.” Both of you say,  completing her sentence. 

“I can elaborate.” Choso suggests, clearly unable to read between the lines of Miwa’s inquiry.

She stretches in her seat, her legs feeling cramped up with the lack of movement all this time. “Y’know what, I’ll hold you two to that. But first, let’s take a break!” It’s not even a minute until she’s out of both your and Choso’s sights, on the way to the restroom, pen and recorder left on the table. 

“Y’know, I don’t think she likes me that much. I also think she’s too nice to tell me that.” You’re in the middle of cracking your neck until you’re moving your attention to him.

“Don’t worry too much about it, I think she just isn’t up for hearing any more strong opinions on exported textiles.”

“That’s if they were truly exported—“ You shove his arm, and he’s laughing at your face, not even moved from the push. He’s pretending to rubbing his bicep in feigned hurt, lifting his arm in the process, almost flexing. You try to ignore how they felt so hard under your fingertips. You check him out unintentionally, taking notice of how the hem of his layered shirt hangs enough to show the lower part of his stomach. Out of respect, you look the other way.

You swallow thickly, ears hot. “I think I’ll get another snack. Want anything to eat?” You’re already standing up and off the chair, limbs wobbly from the long period of time you spent sitting on the deep arm chair.

There’s a sudden burst of noise coming from the entrance of the café, very loud and boisterous. You can’t help but let your jittery self get distracted, there stood an entire group of men, looking like they just got off practice. You’re wondering why one of them looks vaguely familiar, but there’s a body blocking your view out of nowhere with what you realize is Choso’s chest. 

There’s an odd, slightly frantic look in his eyes you haven’t seen on someone as easygoing as him. “Um, how about I go with you?” 

You’re looking up at him, a little skeptical on why the sudden change of tone, but agree anyways. 

You’re in the short line along the display and point out pastries that you could try when a voice calls out to the person beside you. “Cho!”

It’s easier for you to check where it’s coming from as Choso was in front of said voice. You recognize the pink hair from the group coming in earlier. He’s about 2 inches away from being as tall as Choso, hair damp like he just came from a shower, and a sports bag was strapped across him. 

A pat on his shoulder signals your dark haired companion to turn, seeing a sight he’d been trying to avoid earlier. Of course he had to be the one ordering for his group. 

“Hey man,” Choso greets, strained, a guard visibly coming up around him. 

“What’s up, you don’t say hi to family anymore?” The sentiment, although on paper sounded sweet, in reality was like a taunt. Something you don’t wanna dissect to avoid reading into it too much. “Who’s this?”

You peer over at both of them, their attention now on you. Still unable to read the room, you focus on Choso to see how he wants this to play out. He steps in for you, “You know her, I mentioned the TA thing like a while back. She’s a friend, though she is replacing me.”

 He gestures to the pinkette’s side, introducing him. 

“My brother by the way. Same year though.” 

Sukuna nods at that and smiles, canines showing. He reaches out with his hand, and you meet it halfway. “Ryomen Sukuna.” Huh, he’s not a Kamo.

“Pleasure,” You’re squinting your eyes, there’s something a little unsettling about him that you can’t place, but you’re not trying to jump into that. 

 “I didn’t know Choso had any siblings — ones on campus, no less.”

You let go of his large, callous hands, moving an inch closer to the cashier when the customer before you has their turn to order. “Have 2 terms to catch up with and I don’t really see this one around either ‘cause I did training camp in Barcelona last semester.”

You nod in acknowledgement. Silently, you’re comparing them, unknowingly looking back and forth between him and Choso a little too obviously. 

“We don’t look related do we?”

 Before you could defend yourself, a dry chuckle beats you to it. “We get that a lot.” He squeezed where his hand was planted on Choso, who visibly tenses. “Different mom, same dad. He doesn’t take after him though, if you’re worried—“

“Alright, I don’t think she wants to know about that.”

“Speak for yourself,” You laugh nervously, trying to ease the tension you could feel multiplying tenfold. He pats Choso’s shoulder before bringing his hand down to the side, not before looking at the side of his brother's face as he semi-whispered, “At least one of you doesn't have their panties in a twist.”

“I would if I were wearing mine.” A very long, awkward silence overcomes all three of you. That is until a nearly genuine smile breaks out of Sukuna’s angular features. 

“Ha, what the fuck,” He mutters in amusement, “You’re both weird, that’s cute.” A dry chuckle eases the anxiousness you were struggling to place the source of. Though at the cost of your own dignity.

The line to the cashier moves, it’s yours and Choso’s turn now. He’s first to leave his brother’s side, not even bidding him a glance as he moves past you. “Nice meeting you,” you voice out, still on edge, Sukuna just nods in acknowledgement. 

***

It’s around 6:40pm  when Choso walks you to your apartment outside of campus. There’s a slight tension in the air that you’re struggling to bring up, it’s been there for the remainder of your meet up, not having said a word since you’ve left the café. You’ve been trying to make a move and talk to him but he’s had his eyes on the ground this entire time, rarely up, and definitely never on you. 

He was about to walk in the pedestrian lane when you tug on his backpack. He’s caught in the pull, looking up to the red walking signal reflecting on the road. He walks back to stand next to you, still not saying a word. “What’re you thinking so hard on?”

For a moment he turned his head to you, a little too quick to not look like he wasn’t anticipating you to bring it up yourself. He looks ahead once more when you’re walking now. “I’m sorry about earlier.”

You start to feel a little guilty for not clarifying sooner, wondering if this entire time he thought he should’ve apologized for something he couldn’t control.

“It’s alright, it wasn’t unpleasant for me.”

He almost laughs at that, “Right, and I was jumping for joy.”

The air shifts, it’s not so tense anymore, just between that and uncertainty directed at something else entirely. “I felt really dumb earlier.” He adds, looking back down on the pavement. “I couldn’t say anything to make him leave us alone.”

You’re a few blocks nearby to your place, walking a little ahead of him so he could follow you now. 

“Again, it wasn’t that bad. You don’t have to apologize.” Once more, silence fills the space between you both and it feels like you’re unable to remove this weight you feel affecting your interaction.

Now you’re both looking at your feet as you wait for cars to pass the street you’re crossing and for the timer to finally get to zero. Your foot is stepping over a dry leaf to fill in the lack of communication, the sound crunching in the quiet in a loud, distant manner.

“I just kinda get made fun of for acting like this—weak.” You crane your neck up to meet his eyes, and you’re right to think he’s still looking down. “It’s just annoying how even until now it’s expected of me to bite back on others ‘cause I look like I should.” 

There’s a furrow in his brows, and he’s tightly clutching on the strap of his bag. “Like I’ve accepted that, sort of.  I’m already conscious of it— but maybe people like to pick on me when it's obvious I’m not gonna do anything.” 

You’re making another turn together, he’s leading with the path he’s familiar with and you follow, his words don’t falter. “Maybe ‘cause it makes them feel less small or some shit — I don’t know.”

After processing the words that left him, it brought you back to your conversation with Miwa. How you laughed about his past history with women and how you basically gossiped about his insecurities. Guilt swirls in your stomach, realizing this might just be a little worse than you treated it to be. You keep quiet, deep in your own thoughts, letting him say what he needs to.

“And of course my own brother is like that too.” He rants, tracing back to the behavior he displayed earlier. “He’s my brother and I love him, yes. But frat guys could be such dicks, y’know? I was like his first practice hazing dummy lite…in a way.”

You nod, acknowledging him. “Right, right.” You’re turning to the street ahead of yours, just about a block away now.

“It’s hard to not let those insecurities take over.” He groans, “I spent so much of my life trying to make my best first impressions, and I feel like it backfires on me with the wrong people—I hate that.” He’s scratching the back of his head. “Sometimes I just wish I looked normal. That way I wouldn’t literally feel like the elephant in the room.”

At that, you turn almost as if you’d heard the worst take in your life, brows scrunching. “Normal?”

He shakes his head, “Yes, normal. Like I can wear normal shoes and sit on couches normally.”

“I like that you’re not.” You say, insensitively. “I mean you’re not not normal. But I like…it.” You slow down, trying to backtrack on what you just let slip. 

He’s blinking down on you, a look of surprise etched on his slowly flushing face. “…Why?” 

Your breath is caught in your throat, not knowing how else to explain it.  No going back. Remember? 

 “I feel safe, even if you don’t…bite back. And on top of that you’re kind. I think that matters a lot.” 

Choso stares at you like you just grew a tree on your head, but in truth, he’s just trying to tone down his elation. “Really?” He asks dumbly, already cursing himself in his head for looking like he wants to hear you call him that again. Safe.

You dip your head, agreeing once more. “I’m a girl so I may be a little biased but if I were also a little taller, I wouldn’t have to deal with some idiot guys trying something on me, and I could also defend myself easier.” 

“Oh yeah—Yes, that's totally different from my problems.” He clarified, trying to catch himself from sounding ungrateful. You watch the way his expressions shifts from blank to stressed and bite back a smile. “There’s obviously people with worse problems than being bigger than a doorway.” He’s looking down and pushing his glasses up, almost ashamed. 

You turn to the road leading up to your street, your apartment just at the end of it. “Is that like 6’3 or…”

“Huh?” He meets your inquisitive eyes, “Uh, just a little more.” He replied, shying away from your stare. You’re thinking about all the objects that could possibly match up to Choso’s figure. 

“Those chillers they got in 7’11?”

“Hm, nope. Like 2 inches more, maybe.”

Your stomach does a flip you had to ignore, “You’re lying. Six foot six?”

“Without shoes, yes.” He nodded, met with you side-eyeing him. “Well you’re free to go with me to my annual checkups and see.” He defends, a smile finally appearing on his face at your skepticism.

You squint, stopping yourself from looking too excited with the many, unbecoming thoughts storming your brain. “I’ll hold onto that.” 

Shortly after, you find yourself standing in front of the building to your apartment. “I’m sorry about dumping all that on you, It was a lot.” He looks around before letting out a barely there sigh, “I’ll get going now—“

“Are you forgetting?” You look back and Choso’s standing stiffly, feet planted on the ground. “We’re…studying, remember?”

Choso’s throat bobs at your sly tone, convincing himself there is nothing behind it.  “You did a lot today I just thought we were tired—“

“We don’t have to study then.” You’re looking around and thinking to yourself before landing back on his face, “I mean you came all the way here, you could come up and have some tea?”

The notion has his chest puffing out to regulate the way his heart started beating like its pounding from behind his sternum. He doesn’t say anything, his eyebrows raise behind his glasses, his usually sleepy eyes now wide. He nodded and let out a strained, “Okay.”

***

The door to your apartment swings open with a loud creak. The lights switch on, a warm white cascades from the ceilings. 

Your keys make a clinking noise against the ceramic jewelry tray you leave on the dresser by the entrance. The door is wide open, you feel Choso trailing behind a couple steps away. 

He’s standing kinda stiffly, “Do I take my shoes off or—“

You’re shaking your head, stepping aside to let him in. “My neighbors are kinda sticklers for people who leave their shoes outside in the halls.” He walks past the doorway, head craned down. It’s supposed to look like he was trying to avoid getting hit by the frame of it, though he’s only finding a way to hide his face naturally.

He picked his head up when he heard clanking from the kitchen which meant that you were inside. “I hope you’re not allergic to pollen? I like to put honey in mine.” You ask, your voice still clear as the space isn’t big at all, but in his head it’s distant. He’s trying to calm himself down, taking in your apartment. 

It’s small, kitchen tight and you’ve no space for a table. You use the counter as one, your bed, desk, and sofa all in the same space. However, the lack of furniture made it wide, the “living room” taking the least space with just a little coffee table and the tv on the floor as the only decor. 

“You didn’t say anything so I didn’t add any honey.” He finds himself turning on his feet when he’s met by your figure, coming from the kitchen with two— red and yellow —mugs. You hand him the yellow one, he  takes it with a ‘thanks’. You make a move to sit on the couch, trying to get cozy. Choso’s still standing, sipping on his cup awkwardly.

“You can sit if you want.” Choso’s eyes flick over to you. You realize he had shed his bag on the entrance, still it looks like something is weighing on him.

“I’m okay, I might launch you out of it—“

“Sit with me.” You pat the spot beside you on the couch, your fawn-like eyes up at him. 

It turns his legs into jelly. Thoroughly convinced, he sits beside you, trying to be as careful as he can so the side of the couch doesn’t sink to his weight too much.

He winced at the audible sound of the springs under the cushions, “Sorry.” 

Quietly, you assess him. How stiffly he sat, how much of the seat he took up despite keeping himself at the edge of it. If he sat back, would his knee brush against yours? Though you feel a little bad for taking advantage of his reactiveness towards you. However, something deep inside you is undeniably excited with the thought. 

On the other hand, Choso feels like he’s watching himself act in third person, deliberating what part of his body he should move next to not look too obnoxious or stiff. He doesn’t know if he should just let the silence pass till he runs out of tea, or maybe till it turns lukewarm. You shift in your seat, he feels your gaze heavy on him. You don’t say anything, you just stare at the side of his face. His throat bobs.

He looks over to you for a split second and meets your eyes, you raise your brows at him, a smirk growing on your sweet face. 

An anxious laugh bubbles from his throat, the tips of his ears tinging red. “I think you’re aware of how you’re making me nervous.” 

You couldn’t stop the way the smirk spreads into a wide smile. “I was thinking of how to get you to talk, is all.” You tilt your head to the side, checking out how the light from your room lamp makes his jaw seem sharper. His hair nearly fell on his shoulders, built and perched with his elbows on his knees, posture a little hunched, but he still sat taller than you. Nothing short of tempting in your eyes.

He follows your gaze, “What?”

“You’re also thinking of something.”

His brows pinch, he hates how good you are at prodding at him when he clearly doesn’t know what to say. “I’m always thinking.”

You nod, “And still, you haven’t said anything since we went up.”

Choso pauses his already stiff self. You place your mug down, crossing your legs on the couch. He brings his attention back to you but you’re already intently looking at him. He flinches back.

Sighing, “What do you think I’m thinking about?” You purse your lips, shrugging at his question. He shakes his head, a smile fighting its way on his face.

 “Then I’m happy you only brought me here to drink some tea.” A roll of his eyes comes out of sarcasm, reaching for his own mug on the table, stretching his arm out. 

He’s about to pull his hand back when your smaller one lands on top of his. The contact would have made him drop the glass into little pieces if it weren’t for the coffee table underneath. He lets down the cup, missing the coaster you laid out. 

“That’s my mug….” You point at the red cup in his grasp, yours. You let the words linger like the pads of your fingers on the back of his hand, “Hm, you’re really warm.”

He blinks, unable to ground himself back to reality because maybe, maybe you’re trying to make a move on him. He’s unable to look into your eyes, 

“Uh,” He falters, the warmth on his cheeks multiply and spread out when you inch closer, the warmth of your own body makes him feel like he’s overheating. 

“How else could I get you to go up with me?” You say, goading another reaction out of him. 

“I-I mean you could just ask and…I wouldn’t say no,“  You’re closer to his face now—too close. But you’re still not looking at eye level — not close enough. 

“I think I’ve done a lot just to be around you, Cho.” He almost melts at how the stupid nickname his brother calls him sounded so good coming from your honeyed lips. Choso gulps, audible and embarrassing in the silence of your apartment. 

He started off this conversation on the edge of the couch, somehow it feels like you’ve backed him into it.

“Y’know, the TA stuff, asking to study—do we look like we’re studying now?” Your arm skates over his hand, up his arm, the touch leaving goosebumps in their wake.

You watch how his jaw all but clenches at the feeling, a newfound confidence makes you unbelievably giddy, driving you to push more. “But I wanna know for me,”

He feels like he’s running out of breath before he could utter a word when your palm lands up on his hard chest, feeling for the erratic thumping of his heartbeat underneath the fabric of his shirt.

Your head is craned up, lashes bat at him, “What are you willing to do?”

He’s looking deeply into your eyes, searching for the answer to your question, not realizing how his neck is craning down at your height in return. Several beats pass — he feels a tug on his shirt and then he’s closing the distance between your lips. 

He whines on the soft, wet skin, sucking gently, eyes falling shut. His hand finds your cheek, the other reaching for your side when you tangle your arms around his neck. The pace is hungry yet fervent, tugging and melting against the other. You pull away slowly, lips parting from each other wetly. You’re smacking your own lips before smiling up at Choso, giggling. 

His eyes are hazy, glasses crooked out of place. His hands are covering your back and smoothing over your clothes, “I can do anything— whatever you want.” 

If you weren’t already grinning wide enough, now you’re fully Cheshire-like. Pushing yourself closer towards him, “Anything?” He nods eagerly, you’re pulling him in, hungry. 

His hand is on the back of your neck now, holding. There’s something about his touch that feels like it’s keeping you together without feeling too possessive. Caring with a dash of hesitance. One you’re looking to break through tonight.

Your lips travel down his neck, leaving hot, lingering kisses along his throat. “Oh, mmh-“  He bites his lip immediately after nearly letting out the low noise from chest, eyes shutting when you find the particularly sensitive spot on his neck. You feel his fingers dig rougher on your hips, you’re on your knees now, determined to cover every inch of him in your touch. Your weight falls on him when he tugs you, the hands planted on his shoulders squeeze out of instinct.

“You good? I-I didn’t mean to, ah—“ He tried to move his head away from your persistent lips, but a shiver that runs through him stops his actions. You’re sucking on his skin, humming proudly, undettered from your little slip. His hands brush down your sides, they plant themselves lower on your waist.

You plant kisses all the way back to his chin then meet his lips again. You’re eye level, a sinister glint in your eyes. You stick your tongue out, half lidded gaze and staring right at him — brushing the wet, pink muscle along Choso’s bottom lip, teasing. Heat rushes on his face, blood rushes on his crotch. You’re killing him.

You suck on the pink flesh, tugging then letting go, he’s pulling you in closer by the back of your neck. He wants you on him,  mind unable to decide how — just everywhere is fine. You drop your palm down between your bodies and on the garter of Choso’s sweats, feeling for the hardness underneath.

He hissed as your fingers brushed what would be his shaft, “Um, sorry, can we make out a little I think…” He holds your head closer to his face, breaths mingling as you catch them. “I’ll get less hard— nervous, I think. Sorry,” You hummed in agreement before landing back on the flushed skin of his mouth, quieting him down with your lips.

You giggle against him, chasing as he squirms, palms settling on his shoulders. You pull off him with a peck, feet planting back on the carpeted floors.  Choso now sat far into the couch, slacked with legs spread. His mouth parts as you start undressing, stripping off into your underwear. 

He sizes you up and down, taking in your soft, bare skin, your strapless bra and cotton panties under the warm lights of your apartment. It elicits a heavy throb under his pants. Choso’s breathing feels uneven and the air grows thinner when you settle back on the couch, only now between his spread out legs.

 You’re steadying yourself, his hands find a place on your warm, now bare skin. You smooth over the wide expanse of his chest, then land on his neck, even warmer than you. “This okay?” You ask, to which he only replies with a nod. 

You’re about to lean into him when he reaches for his glasses, but you stop him before he tries to pry the piece of metal off. “They stay on.”

His breath catches in his throat, stomach dipping. A part of him he’s not quite sure whether he wanted to acknowledge, liked when you tell him what to do.

 He lets his hand fall, you adjust the rims on the bridge of his nose. “You’re so pretty.” You’re holding his face with both hands, tilting it upwards to you. A lopsided grin appears on his face at the comment, eyes shying away and down from your face and to the body on him.  

“Thanks- Thank you,” He replied poorly. His palm skated from your waist and to your back, laying above the clip of your bra. His lips are caught between his teeth as he takes in the feel of your skin against him, he looks up. “You’re awfully pretty as well.”

He was never good at expressing himself,only with what he was sure of. But this was new, you pushing, him taking, it was all new. But he meant every word he said to you. He leaned in to catch your lips against his. Fuck, if only you could tell how much he meant it.

He’s slotting his tongue in between your parted mouth, leaning further in and you’re falling back, but he’s catching you — keeping you to him. You work together smoothly, as smooth as silks rubbing against each other. You clutch on to him tightly as if he’ll slip if you don’t. You taste like jasmine tea and he’s wondering if the sweet taste is from the honey or just you. He’s holding you by the neck and pushing your back into him. 

You finally move to settle on his lap, the kiss unwavering so you’re first to pull away, “Choso—“ He catches the sound of his name in your mouth, chasing, taking, and taking. There isn’t any place on your body that isn’t covered by him, your arms, your back, your legs in between his that caged you. You moan at the thought against his greedy tongue,  entirely consumed. But you’re impatient and already wet, the fabric of your panties has been riding up for the last 10 minutes. So you squeeze his arms weakly, but it’s enough for him to let air flow between you.

“Shit, Sorry—” He’s frantic and searching your eyes, but he’s met with your hazed out ones and your swollen, drooly lips. He wiped the corner of it, chest heaving. “I need to— you’re driving me insane,” He chuckles, deep and uncertain with how true the fact felt. He’s brushing your hair back gently, “I’m sorry,” he lets go of you as you’re pulling away.

You’re upright now, letting your feet back down. You’re bending over to his lap, palms resting on his spread out limbs, “You need to make it up to me,” You’re once again reaching for his sweats, the imprint of his shaft taking form at the side. He gently lays his hand on your wrist.

 “Are you sure?” His eyes are wide, pupils dilated, the frames of his glasses are now on the tip of his nose bridge. But there’s a wave of genuine uncertainty blanketing his expression.

You’re blinking up at him, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

It’s a tangled knot in his chest, one bundled in embarrassing moments and unsuccessful hook-ups. He stuttered over his words,

“Just that before I’ve-“ he pondered if he should risk you laughing at him, but you’re expectantly looking into his eyes, and your hands are already on his lap, a little more and you’d be right where he’s aching for you. “I’m scared of making it…unpleasant?” 

His hand rubs up and down your arms, you’re tuning him out and thinking of how you should go about sitting on him. He continued to ramble on, “Um, like I’ve been told it was…“

“Too big?” You ask, attention now on him. Externally you’re collected, stating it like a remark. But internally you know it’s a fact. You feel a little bad thinking about it but now you’re piecing together your earlier conversation on what Miwa’s friend’s friend might’ve been complaining about. 

Choso all but nods, eyes scanning your room as if that would keep yours away from him. “I could just help you, y’know. We don’t have to—“

You’re turning over and maneuvering his hand out of his lap, sitting on his thigh. For a moment, you’re a little hesitant, hovering. “I mean I’d like it if we did, but I’m also…” His words trail off, holding your hip and securing you on his lap, unbothered as your weight settles on one thigh. He clears his throat, “I’m okay with, um,  anything.”

You’re leaning into him, on your side, hand trailing underneath the hem of his shirt, grazing his clenched abdomen. He jolts, causing you to jump in your seat. Your eyes widen for a moment before relaxing, hand skating lower under the garter of his sweats with a simpering grin on your face. You’re kissing his cheek, gentle and slow as your hand palms over his hard, covered cock.

He’s watching your move under the fabric of his gray sweats, feeling your smaller fingers squeezing and rubbing the base of it. It hurts, he thinks. In a way that something stings and feels good at the same time. You’re squeezing at his tip when he throws his head back on the couch, groaning loudly. You take the opportunity to mouth on his neck again. 

“Can you please— Can I please take it off?” He asks politely, but the grip on your hip feels anything but. You hum, still licking at the expanse of his neck. 

You’re pulling his pants down with his help—mostly him just taking it off himself, desperate and aching. He’s bare from the waist down now when you settle back on his thigh, sweats and boxers discarded on the floor. 

You’re now shamelessly gawking at his erection bouncing against stomach, slapping against it. The warmth of your hand catches him off guard, finally making contact skin to skin. You tug on the shaft, immediately taking notice of how your fingers struggle to close around it and were squeezing on accident.

“F—oh, god. ” He rests his head on your shoulder, sweat building on his forehead. You start moving your hand up and down, already slippery from how he’d been oozing in his boxers the entire time. He’s quiet behind you, save for the heavy breathing on your skin. You go faster. “Your hand’s so tight,” it comes out in a whimper. A wet, mouthing sensation can be felt on your shoulder, he’s biting your skin to muffle himself. But It doesn’t work, his throat lets loose with each reaction.

 His eyes roll up from your shoulder when he feels you lean forwards and away from his chest, cock twitching when a wet glob of spit drips on him from your tongue.

You’re both watching your hand work up and down, bringing both onto the shaft, he’s cursing as you go faster. 

You’re throwing your other leg over his thigh, straddling him in reverse, before resting back on him. Choso's hands come up to hold you under your knees, keeping your legs apart. He watched as the movement stretched the fabric, pussy still clad in underwear, drenched and barely covering it. But he can’t help but peek lower, your hands exclusively paying attention to his erection. 

You joke, “It’s like I'm jerking myself off.”

A deep chuckle rumbles from his chest, the vibrations thrum against your back and you turn them into moans as you suddenly go faster. “Sucks though, I can’t feel it.” 

You’re unable to see his expression behind you, but you can hear how his moans are muffled between his teeth, “You’re s-so eager.”

You reveled at how shaky he’d sounded. “One of us has to be.”

And then a strange noise akin to the tearing of fibers can be heard from below. You gasp as it happens in front of you, hands slowing its ministrations. You realize you’re watching him rip your underwear, exposing your wet, shiny pussy. “Hey—“

 He’s adjusting himself from under you, bringing his other hand under your thigh, your legs tugged higher as he starts rubbing right on your clit. 

He’s rough and accurate on where he wants to touch you, deliberate in his movements.  He’s quick but he isn’t rushing either, his only motive was to get you to falter in his stead as you were doing just the same.

Your voice shrinks into breathy pants, the slick sound from your poor clit syncing in with each, “Ah, ah, Cho—“

“You’re making me so, so hard, baby—” You’re both an obscene sight to behold, playing with each other, spread out, grunting or whimpering. Both sloppily still trying to let your lips tangle with each other despite the inconvenient position. Both a mess, your tits spilling out of your bra, and his glasses all fogged up. 

You grind into him, “Feels so good,” rubbing your juices on the cock you’re jerking with now one hand, coating his chubby length. Your body felt like it was on overdrive, moving your hips up and down as you clenched on nothing, gushing freely. 

You’re biting your lip as your hips grow erratic, brows pinching and your abdomen clenches on itself. “I-I’m close.”

Choso lets a groan escape,“Fuck, really?” realizing he’s making you come first. It’s a miracle he’s held off this long, he wonders if he’ll hold up if you let him inside. The thought makes him move your hips on his cock, assisting you as you use him to get yourself off. 

He doesn’t know if he’s breathing so hard because he’s getting tired or because he knows getting your clit rubbed nudges you a little closer to the edge when you start to get louder. He breathes against your ear, “Come on me, please.” He’s mumbling now, less at you and more to himself.  “I wanna see you cum on me, please, please—”

Your legs begin to shake in his hold, fighting to shut close but the grip under your knees forces you to come with your legs spread wide, pussy making a show of spasming against Choso’s cock, voice breaking as you whimper. “That’s it baby, that’s it,” 

Choso is completely enamored, the sounds of your high pitched whines in the air was like music to him, the way you writhe against his body was this entrapping dance. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you.

He notes how you were still in your bra, he whispers something about it, but you’re just nodding your head with your eyes shut, riding it out. Then he’s unclipping the strap with one hand, the fabric falling off and releasing your perfect tits.

You then relax your back to him, twitching still. But then he’s thrusting his erect cock up between your folds, the stimulation starting to make you wetter again, your breath can only catch up so fast.  You’re attempting to lift your hips with a squirm.”Gi-give me a sec—”

Choso quickly lets your legs fall to the side and pauses, sitting up and moving your head to face him. “Shit- we can stop here,” he assured, breathy and worried. “I didn’t mean to, I was just looking at you. You looked-” So fucked out, “I’m sorry.“

“Sh-shut up,” You look away and Choso stiffens under you. Was he too rough? Before he could even utter another apology, you spoke, “I’m fine, I just need to— breathe.“ 

He watches you quiet down from underneath you, he’s rubbing your thighs comfortingly. “I am sorry,” The silence lingers, only getting tenser with each beat that passes.

And then you start chuckling — at nothing in particular. Your breathing slows down, and you look back to check on him. He looked so worried, brows pinched and his lip jutted out. A lazy smile breaks into your features, leaning down to catch him in a chaste kiss so he wouldn't see the expression on your face. “I liked it, okay?”

His breath hitched in his throat when you spoke against his lips, “Yeah?” 

You’re nodding, smile now exposed. You kiss him again, powerless against his sweet lips. He relaxes, hand coming up to the back of your head. “I wanna-“ A kiss, “Fuck you now,” A slower kiss, “Please.”

He’s backing up to read your face, reassessing. Within the silence, something passes between you two. Amidst the air that smells of sex and vaguely of tea, there’s this mix of warmth and uncertainty—and whether or not to dive in it — that lingers in between. 

He’s nervous under your gaze, once again, looking for a way out of your eyes that traps him so effectively like no other. He’s looking down at his still, very much, erect self. “I don’t have a condom.”

You’re thinking to yourself before you reach for the side table of your couch, scrambling for a box you kept there in case.

Choso’s scrambling to rip the plastic off before fishing for one packet. “I’m not really sure if it would fit so, maybe just try it,” You remark as you’re being maneuvered out of his lap and on the side of the couch. He fumbled with the rubber a couple times, pulling it down before it snapped a little too tightly on his girth. He tugs it down on him until a tear starts spreading on the side of the translucent material. 

“I’m sor—“ He hissed as it snapped against his skin, “See I can’t even fucking…I don’t think this is quite right—” He’s cursing to himself, obviously a little sexually frustrated. For someone his size he still managed to look somewhat like a defeated puppy. 

You’re tugging the broken thing off, relief blooming in his chest but it’s short lived as he’s reminded of how he might not even have sex with you anymore. “But no, we really don’t have to.”  He says, discouraged. 

“You can fuck me raw, I’m on the pill.” He internally groaned, pulled back out of his head. You just had a way with your words. 

He does a complete 180, eyes widening, shifting from beaten to optimistic. He reminds himself to curb his excitement though, slowing down. “You can be on top—set the pace?” You’re already moving to sit on his lap.

He’s nodding his head at you, and finally rips his shirt off himself, now completely naked. You’re staring down at him, licking your lips at the sight of his milky skin and toned chest. He pulls you out of your thoughts, voice small and distant. 

“I’ll pull out, yeah?” He’s swallowed back thickly, more of reminding himself to do that. “Just be slow okay? I didn’t prepare you that wel—um,"

His voice trails off when you’re already lining yourself up with his reddened tip. “A little at a time—Oh,” You’re already sinking down, unrepressed. 

The stretch is long and constant, to the point it feels like you’re rethinking how fast you jumped on this, except you remember you’re already lowering yourself very carefully. 

Your jaw hangs open in a silent scream when you get past the head, sinking lower, your walls throb against his member. You’re bracing yourself with a palm, Choso’s chest is covered in sweat and heaving. “You’re so—‘s really tight, oh fuck you’re so warm,” He whined out, unable to complete a sentence.

He’s leaving a trail of hot, open mouthed kisses on your neck and then back on your lips to keep your mewls at bay. You’re kissing back, he’s only half way in when you start moving. Choso’s breaths turn ragged against yours, pulling you closer to him. You catch your breath, “It’s stretching me out so much, Choo-” You whine, slowly rolling your hips.

He’s squeezing your waist before trailing his hands down your ass, “You’re doing good, you’re doing really good.”

He’s looking down at your progress, struggling to tell where you ended and he begun, now nearer to the base of his cock. He throbs inside you. “Fuck, a-are you okay?” He’s looking back up at your face, taking in your lips, bitten and swollen under your teeth. 

He lets out a shaky whimper, “You’re taking so much.” His eyes finding their way back to your hole swallowing him. “So good, baby.”

You tuck your feet over his thighs for leverage, pulling off his cock slowly then sinking back down, and back up. You repeat the motions, torturously slow, your slick creating this lewd noise from each rock of your hips as you go deeper. Choso’s hands are on your thighs, weighing you down but he’s really holding back from actively pushing — still you’re sinking, taking more. 

You start to bounce, struggling to hold yourself up with your palm on his chest, the slight sting of the stretch dulling out to a deep pressure. It’s a lot easier now, you go even faster with the help of your growing arousal slicking up his cock. Every touch you leave on each other now feels highly sensitive, your tits pressed against Choso’s hard chest, his hands squeezing on your ass for dear life. You’re left unable to keep up conversations or teases to each other now, heads completely in a different space. You're left babbling incoherencies as your tingling nerves derail your focus, the only thing clear was to go after what felt good. 

But you falter, your knees slowing as they start to ache but you push yourself further, desperate, taking even more of Choso’s length. You find yourself losing balance and lean over, panting. You lift your hips, then let your ass fall back into his lap, a strained mewl leaving your throat, “I-I need help. I need you, Cho—need you t’a fuck my pussy,” 

He groans out at how high your voice got, fresh from its suppressed whines. “Okay I’ll help,” He’s quick with his hands, holding you by the globes of your ass, and pulls you up. He bites back a noise, hearing and feeling your tight pussy gush and clamp on him as he lifts until it’s just the tip. “s’ okay if I thrust a little?” He whispers against your ear, growing desperate as his cock pulses in anticipation. You nod fervently in his neck, arms circled around him. “Okay baby, I’m gonna. I’m gonna help this pussy- fuckkk” 

It’s noisier now, from your skin, sticky and slapping against each other, to your gasps turning into moans against each other’s open mouths. Choso’s now taking all the work, lifting your ass and bringing it down to meet his aching cock even faster than you could have. He starts meeting your pussy half way, thrusting up wards and it knocks the wind out of you.

Moans spill out of you with each thrust up, breaking and then bursting out of you. You’re clinging to him, bodies impossibly close, skin rubbed up against skin. “You’re so fucking loud, honey—do you like it?” His groans turn into grunts with how he’s physically exerting his body, on a mission to see you break apart on top of him.

You reply with a noise of acknowledgment, barely audible amongst the slapping and heavy breathing. You’re body feels hot all over, from inside and out. He’s deep enough inside you in places you didn’t even know was possible to go that far in, and the best worst part is you haven’t even reached the base of him yet. A new objective makes itself known in the part of your brain that still functioned, a dimly flickering idea. 

“Ch-choso can you, ngh—“ You’re bringing your face out of his neck to face him, but he’s still busying himself with his thrusts, “I want you deeper, c-could you do that f’me?”

He’s letting out a high pitched whine he when lets you down, about to throw his head back when you catch his lips in yours, tugging on his hair and pulling roughly.  “You’re stronger than me Cho, c’mon. Make me cum on your big cock—“

He groans, planting his feet on the ground, before you know it you’re up in the air, now standing. You cut yourself off with a moan, both of you do —sighing out when he lifts your ass up before dropping you on his painfully hard cock. “You’re so filthy when you talk, y’know that?”

It feels like he's all the way to your lungs when he finally bottoms out in you, which would make sense since it feels like you aren’t breathing anymore. You cry out once more, wiling your eyes and muffling the noises in his neck, biting down. “Are you crying?” He asks, concern prodding between his excitement, but the thought manages to make it’s way to his cock, fucking you on him rhytmically slow and deep. You let out a choked sob, “Fuck you’re crying—not even going that fast.”

“Then g-go faster,” You managed to voice out between moans, your hips wiggling in his grasp. He groans in response, kneading your ass to stop you from getting ahead of him.

“You tell me if it’s too much- just, you have to tell me a-alright?” You’re clenching on him, still trying to bounce. “Shit, Okay.” 

The slower sounds of your skin slapping each other turn into rapid, sharp sounds. Choso grunting from each thrust, now fully unrepressed. In seconds, the image you’ve crafted of him as this shy, hesitant boy, crumbles. You’re fully moaning out now, his cock nudging deeper and repeatedly in that spot that triggers your insides. “I’m so full, fuck-“

He’s hiccuping his moans out, turning into whimpers as he pumps you up and down even faster, his nails digging into the meat of your ass. “You’re taking me so good baby,” He’s thrusting up when he lets you fall on his cock midway, his muscles forgetting to strain. “Fuck, take it, take it—“ 

He dives in against your lips, tongue invading your whimpering mouth. You try your best to kiss back, eyes nearly closing while he’s drowning you in him. You’re clenching on his cock a lot tighter now, his balls drenched in your arousal, slapping against your other hole from the impact of his motions.

“I think I—I’m gonna cum-“ You pull away from Choso who lets out a breathy moan, licking your lips to chase yours. You’re falling limp against him, hips rendered useless when he’s already fucking you on a pace outside of your own stamina. 

Your insides are pulsing around his member, your moans growing even louder. Choso’s deep enough into you when he feels his cock twitch, “I need to pull out—“ You’re immediately protesting, letting out noises of disapproval. “No, no baby I’m gonna cum if you—“

“I don’t care.“ Fuck. Choso holds himself back, his pre-cum oozing out makes your sopping hole even more slippery at the thought of filling you up to the brim.  He’s thinking of ways to keep himself from cumming right this very second when you’re already so fucked out and desperate, high up in your own head.

His dick twitches again and he’s biting his lip, slowing his carry on your body til you’re stopping altogether. Before you could say anything else, he’s pulling out and placing you on the couch, lying down. You’re complaining, spreading your legs as much as the cushions on your side could let you. 

Choso’s holding his cock, squeezing at the base to calm himself down but he opens his eyes to your gaping, hungry hole, presented to him like an offer, “C-cum inside me, Cho,”

His resolve breaks within a blink of an eye, already laying above you and wrapping your legs around his waist. You feel like crying out of joy when he finally makes his way inside, thrusting slowly and hissing from how tight you still are. “I need to be on top of you, I need to—“ He mumbled, eyes already hazed out and clambering for satiation.

He topples over you as he finds his balance, now setting a newer pace from earlier, caging you with his body while his thrusts grow even faster.

The sensation is much more different now, a stretch added with the forces of his thrusts now fully landing on you.

He’s watching every twist of your face and moan spill out. Scanning your body downwards while he lays a palm on your lower abdomen, “If I cum inside you’re gonna bulge right h-here, d’ ya want that?”

You’re squealing against him when he presses down, his cock nudging where he’s digging his fingers from the outside. Your walls flutter against his member, sucking him in and pulsing wetly. Choso’s grunting against you, hips growing faster as he watches your eyes get even more hazy and your face twisted.

Your eyes are rolling back when he starts rubbing on your clit, already impatient with wanting to feel your pussy tighten impossibly around him.

He’s whispering incoherencies to you, face on your neck when he pulls back his hips and pushes back in deeply as he continues rubbing you. 

You cry out, shuddering against Choso as the coil in you snaps, holding onto his wrist as your legs secured against his ribs.

He lets out a shaky moan, pumping faster when he chases his orgasm while you ride yours out on him, bodies grinding up against each other intimately. 

A curse lets you know that he’s finally reached his climax, thrusts growing slow and deep while pumping you full of his sticky cum.  Your eyes are glossed over, your throat sore from your own voice when he’s riding out his high, panting and leaving kisses all over your face. 

Your chests are pumping against each other,  both catching your breaths. Your hand finds its way to his face, turning it so he could look back at you. His cheeks are red and his glasses were no longer on him, probably losing them from how much you’d been switching positions. 

You’re brushing his hair from his face, tucking a long strand onto his ear. Your body still feels like it’s on fire but it doesn’t compare to how even after all that, his stare on you still makes your heart skip a beat. You let out a breath, gathering yourself.

 “What do you think?” His eyes scans over your face, “Better than coming up to study?”

Choso shifts on his elbows as he’s laying on top of you.“Yeah that was…” He takes a moment to think of a better way to describe it, a smile spreading on his face. “Really good.” He settles with honesty instead.

He’s thumbing over your shoulder, a hundred thoughts trying to materialize themselves in his still mushed up brain. “I’ve never done it like that, before I mean.“ 

He’s looking up to meet your eyes, and you’ve got a glow emitting from you, drawing him in. He hesitates for a moment but then, “And you? How’d you feel?”

You huff out a soft chuckle, realizing how ironic this all was. How you’ve still managed to not destroy the awkwardness that came with affections even when you’ve skipped over to, well sex. Choso waits for your answer, something swirls tight in his chest, uneasy but still patient. 

You’re brushing back the hair on his scalp, taking in how much less guarded he looks without glasses. “Yeah, I feel…safe.”

He smiles, that knot in his chest untangling. To no surprise, he finds the thread it’s bundled from may be connected to you. “Yeah?”

You nod, smiling, “Yeah.”

It’d started on a Friday night; your boss had insisted on yet another drinking party, and you’d been strong-armed into joining a few awkward co-workers in pouring drinks and pretending that you cared so much more about what Abe from finance had to say about the state of the economy and how it related to lax dress codes at work. 

Particularly your dress code.

Ugh. 

You’re throwing the drunken man inside the taxi with more force than necessary—and handing over a large tip to the driver in front. 

You might hate the guy, but leaving him on the pavement like this might just get your pay docked…

As a few more of your co-workers pile into the taxi, they ask you whether you’re joining.

Your eyes flicker from the tangled body of Abe inside…to the clear night out…back to Abe inside. It’s with something akin to relief that you’re saying you’d rather walk—it wasn’t too far of a trek anyways. It’s just then that Abe babbles something about it being unsafe and he’d oh-so-gladly make some room for you…

You’re closing the taxi door and not caring whether you catch Abe’s toes.

It was during this night walk - which in and of itself was rather uneventful - that you passed by the Tokyo Hybrid Center. The hub for all things hybrid-related: from informational seminars, to campaigning, to employment opportunities, and even a shelter for hybrids that were on the run from illegal fighting rings, etc. 

And it was outside this massive building that you saw the sign.

Hot hybrids 5 minutes away want to meet you!

HYBRID COMPANIONSHIP PROGRAM:

Are you searching for a new roommate? Are you looking to broaden your friend group beyond simple human backgrounds? 

Join our Hybrid Companionship Program to get suited with hybrids that wish to make new human friends. Deepen relations between humans and hybrids!

Contact +69 XXX XXX XXXX for more information (or just walk in!)

You’d walked in.

It’d taken about a week to plough through the columns of forms and meetings with officials of the program. And after you finally managed to complete them, you waited…and waited…and waited…

Months later, you’d been entertaining the thought that perhaps they just found you unsuitable for every hybrid that walked through those doors. Which stung a little, you admit, for Abe had been particularly irritating at that stuffy office lately- and you’d been itching for a new friend. But you could get through, surely—

That’s when you got a call from the program, informing you that you’d been matched with a grey wolf hybrid. 

That’s how you became friends with Toji Fushiguro.

An unsure, bumbling friendship. 

One that meant - a few months later - you found yourself like this—

Nails attempting to claw into the mattress - it’s drawing a few jagged lines down the silken sheets that you swear you’d just washed—though that wasn’t anything Toji cared about. He couldn’t even think.

He couldn’t feel anything other than the soft, suctioning sensation of your pussy- the way it was dragging his inches back in even as he pulled out. The cutest squelches leave you every time he’s pushing in, in, in—

And Toji himself pulls his face out from the crook of your neck.

He’s leaving a garish bite mark behind- and the wolf hybrid laps at it a few times. Proud of his work. Why wouldn’t he be? He’s been wanting to do this since the moment he met you.

And then he’s catching sight of your lecherous reactions- the way you’re squirmin’ away from him and whimpering at the stinging feeling. Oh…how it makes him snicker. 

Before you can register it, his right hand reaches in front of you and tenderly intertwines his fingers with yours, “How cute…” How sweet. How loving. “But don’t you think you can run away from me, doll.” In a single split-second, Toji has both of your hands pulled behind your back- and your pretty face collapsing onto the pillows.

Spit smears out of your mouth and on the pillowcases, and you’re keening as he bends your hands behind your back. 

Holding onto them-

“I’d never—ngh, run away…” You scoff.

“Good.” He’s exposing your freshly-made bite mark to his hot pants. “Because m’not stopping anytime soon.”

Then in the next few strokes, Toji’s straightening himself up as he keeps drilling into you from behind - maintaining a strong hold on your wrists. Pulling them behind you. Leaving you completely at the mercy of his rugged, pummeling cock. Just pushing and pushing—

He glues his muscular thighs to the backs of yours- and keeps his inky-black happy trail scruffing at your ass cheeks. The way you were arched in this new position meant that he was hittin’ spots you didn’t even know existed. And most of all, his bulbous tip was shoved just a few inches deeper to make a firm indent at your cervix.

You’re whining as you feel the intrusion. “Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuck—yes. More. I can take it.”

“More?” He asks questioningly.

Nodding and nodding.

“Careful what you wish for, honey.”

Though, despite Toji’s warning tone, his fluffy tail swishes behind him in delight. How he loved losing his senses in your pussy.

Your warm, welcoming pussy.

You’re squeezing his thick cock in surprise once you feel something settle atop your head- and it takes you longer than it should to realize that Toji Fushiguro had just reached his right leg in front of him and stepped down on your crown.

Your jaw drops at the utter audacity.

“H-holy shit…”

And then he’s increasing his pace, he’s exercising his immense strength even further. 

He’s fucking you like he was furious with you - like he was making up for however many months he couldn’t get his hands on his precious mate. Something deeeeep, and carnal, inside him yips with glee at the fact that he had you like this—choking on his cock and begging for more. More and more. 

Toji’s rational brain was overcome with…something he doesn’t think he’s ever felt before.

Some strange part of him that needed to stuff himself so deep inside you that you remember him even once he’s pulled out. Some strange part of him that wanted his essence to be so combined with yours that everyone else that encounters you knows you’re his mate- and vice versa. He wanted you badly—always has. And even the slightest bounces of yours hips - whenever you were fucking back into him - made a part of him crack- he couldn’t stand to break contact with you for a single fucking second. 

Toji tugs you by the arms - so far back that your ass cheeks were glued to his toned pelvis. And you have nowhere to run but the stirring motions of his cock.

In the hazy noise of your bodies meeting, the bed frame begins to crack!

“What’s the matter?” He croons. And after a few more vicious strokes render you near-speechless, he chuckles to himself. “Dick got your tongue?”

“You’re s-sooo—” But it was so hard to speak with the way his flared tip swabbed into your sweetest spots. He pinpointed even the ones your gooey channel kept hidden, and then ran the veiny underside of his length down those glossed walls- probing against your g-spot with such raw fervour. “Ngh.”

You were being pushed back n’ forth.

Manhandled back n’ forth.

And he doesn’t want you moving away from him for a single second.

The sheer force of his hips was enough that your sweaty scalp nearly bangs! against the wooden headboard. Toji notices the near-contact, and he’s lugging back both your bodies without a single word. “Hey hey- c’mere—where’d you think you’re going, huh?” 

“S’not my fault…” Big tears run down your cheeks.

“Yeah yeah- now shush n’ take it”

Sweaty and tangled up as one.

And if that wasn’t enough- Toji runs his thickened cock out of your cunt. Slapping it against your puffy pussylips and probin’ at your clit for a few thrusts- before pushing his solid inches back in and pumping away until you were utterly stupid. Utterly babbling. 

His ballsack ends up plastered against your folds and plap-plap-plapping. 

You’re feeling the exact moment that they’re then clenching- an explosion of creamy white cum that drips into your glossy channel.

Wad after wad.

Ribbon after ribbon.

Your walls expand with the addition. “Oh p-pleeeease- fuck! So much…” Your mouth waters, “How can you even…so much.” 

Webbing up your poor insides, drenching them pure white. His bawlin’ divot was also just the perfect shape to probe those droplets of cum into your tender orifices, smearing them with his length thereafter. Again and again. Toji needs merely a few thrusts of him fuckin’ his warm seed into you - before you’re hurtling into your own orgasm, too. And it’s so strong that it makes lights flash behind your eyes—

Through the white-hot pleasure, you feel a set of canines sink into your neck. Again.

This time, on the other side.

“Heh…now they’re gonna know for sure.”

.

.

.

It was inevitable that you’d be the talk of the office.

The moment you stepped through those swivelling doors: all eyes were on you. 

From the bored receptionist that looked away from his computer, to the wizened doorman whose brows raised, to that damn Abe who’d been drinking at the water fountain at that precise moment you walked into the lobby. The interns openly gaped, of course. 

But it was nothing against the way that Abe physically spat out the water he’d been holding in his mouth- right onto some unfortunate intern who looked as though he was very serious about quitting this job. 

With a few hasty apologies, the bane of your office life was walking towards you.

Then perhaps he’d noticed just how large the canines that’d made that mating mark seemed to be. Perhaps he’d seen all those accompanying nips and nail marks wherever your skin was visible. Or perhaps he was seeing Toji—standing right behind you and glowering at the man.

You looked as though you’d been thrown to the wolves, and you’d brought one right to work.

“Toji, I told you—” You coo at him. “You don’t need to accompany me all the way here.”

“Oh, I think I do.” He murmurs.

In front of him, Abe starts backing up.

Looking straight at him, he says. “Have a great day at work…”

Grinning a grin that showcases every dangerous tooth.

“-my mate.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - White-collar man!

Hybrid type: Canis lupus familiaris

“F-forgive me if I’m a little…unsure about this, my love.” You’ve never heard your perfect husband tremble in such a tone—something unsure, something so unlike the eloquent nature you’ve grown so used to. 

He was stuttering. 

Why? Perhaps because of the way you were sneakin’ your luscious cunt down his length. Perhaps because of the way you’re feeling his prominent vein sneak down your walls- squeezing him where he was girthiest. Or perhaps because of the collar you’d put ‘round him.

It was a throw-away comment, really.

You’d been seated beside your husband late at night; talking into the early hours of the morning—everything from your favorite dates to the best restaurants in Tokyo to…kinks that the two of you have never tried before. And your husband being a dog hybrid - a German Shepherd type, to be specific - you admit that you may have thought of something…to do…with making your husband don a collar.

And Nanami Kento being the perfect gentleman, was always happy to entertain your wildest ideas. At least once.

Though by the way he was affected by the thick faux-leather around his neck- you’re guessing that this might not be the last time…

“What’s the matter?” You watch as he brings up one finger and tugs on the tightened restraint. Underneath, Nanami’s Adam’s apple bobs—“Too tight for you, Kento?”

“Not at all.” He fervently shakes his head. “It’s just…”

“Just what, baby?” Giving him yet another stir of your hips. Pap-papping! down his swollen inches.

In response, the large hybrid bucks his pelvis up into yours- letting the skin of his thighs stick against your own, letting the bulbous edge of his cock veer in even deeper. So much of his length; it felt never-ending.

Nanami has to use up every single shred of will within him to keep his head from tipping backwards, “It’s just that- hck! that it feels so good that…” Jaw clenching at the way your walls kept clenching harder n’ harder around his length—he wanted to whine. But with that damn collar on him, his airway kept getting restricted. “-that i-it almost feels unfair.”

Alternating between a sensual, soft slide down his cock- and then speeding up when it felt like he was getting too clear-headed.

“What do you mean, Kento?” Genuine confusion.

“It just means that I’m over here feeling all good because of this collar and your- ngh—” Gesturing vaguely at your cunt - though that didn’t seem to be enough, and the blond man can’t stop himself from pushing aside your legs to let his hand between them. Running his thumb eagerly over your clit - thorough, steady strokes—just the way you liked it. “-your pussy. But am I making you feel good enough, my love?”

Your brows furrow, “Of course you are, Kento-”

“No, but…good enough.” He insists. And then his handsome face draws nearer, and Nanami’s lips are catching onto yours. “M’the type of man that needs my wife to feel better than me, darlin’.”

“Kento—o-oh.” Entire body wracking with carnal shivers at the feeling of his thumb pressin’ down even harder. Like some cute heart-shaped button, he’s pouring out all his love with stroke after stroke after stroke. 

And he continues, “I need you to feel so good that you almost can’t take it.” He growls- and for a split-second you’re seeing a flash of those intimidating canines that made you weak in the knees. Nanami’s ears perk up in alertness as his hips start rammin’ equally as fast to meet your pace, “I need you to feel dizzy with pleasure- hear me?”

“Fuck-” 

“I need you to feel better than me.”

“Oh…” Head lolling behind- you’re not getting too far before he’s craning his neck and catching your mouth in a sloppy kiss.

Golden brows furrowing, “Mmm—hear me? I need you to be aching, I need you to be fucked stupid- I need you to be mindless with pleasure…” And then his fingers are briefly letting go of your sensitive nub to pinch. “Because that’s what good husbands do.”

Stimulating your unsuspecting clit.

Running his crowned tip into every spot he knew you liked.

Nanami had his body practically plastered to yours as if he lived for this - he wanted to fuck you numb with pleasure, and it didn’t matter if he had to run his vein-covered shaft fucking raw on your walls to do it. Desperate. Dominant. Purely for your service. It didn’t matter if his collar was getting tighter between all the pants—if he couldn’t breathe. It didn’t matter if his limbs were getting tired. It didn’t matter if his hybrid tail was wagging his emotions all on display. 

It takes a few more vulgar, sloppy strokes of him pushin’ away his translucent precum into your deepest depths before Nanami speaks again. This time, he jerks his head ever-so-slightly up into the air and sniffs. “And this good husband can also smell that you’re close.”

You’re breathless, “Close?” It wasn’t that you didn’t trust his honed hybrid senses but-

Fuck.

And then it’s hitting you.

“Sh-shiiiiit—” Without you even realizing it - it’d been building up without you even noticing - you’re wracking your way into your orgasm.

Like shards of glass scattering; bolts of pleasure build up at your pussy n’ then course through your veins. Sending deep pangs of euphoria up to your brain- your mind’s just a little fried when you’re elongating your high with primal bucks and bounces down Nanami’s ruthless cock. Up and up. Down until the scruff of his tawny-brown happy trail scratches against your outer folds.

Your head finally lunges back, your body’s arching into him.

And the only thing you can think to do is reach out and hold onto Nanami’s collar—

It’s like your lifeline. And your husband’s brows slightly raise as you clasp onto it, cutting off his breathing ever-so-slightly at the crescendo of your orgasm: you were choking him and he was liking it far more than he expected.

It’s all Nanami can do to gnaw down on the flap of his lower lip and continue, “This…fuck.”

“This is my pleasure, Kento.” Babbling out - you don’t know whether to blame the fogginess that your high brought upon you or not. “I really like it when you- hah, do your best to make me feel good. I really like that you—”

Pressing your lips to his.

“-make me feel so- fuck, loved.” 

You can feel Nanami smiling into the kiss. His throat tremors with the signal that he was about to say something more- but you’re quickly cutting him off with a tug at his collar.

Finishing off, “And I really fucking love when you wear this collar f’me.”

Between your pussylips, his bulging cock twitches in arousal.

The most wicked grin spreads across Nanami’s handsome features, and he’s bringing his hand up to the collar- for a second there, you think he’s about to remove it. And you’re getting ready for the sensual entrapment to fall off—but instead, he takes his index and taps on the little loop that the collar had.

One for the leash.

“Then why don’t we take it a step further, darling?”

♡ GETO SUGURU - Here, pussy pussy…

Hybrid type: Felis catus

Everyone knew that Geto Suguru was a cat hybrid. 

One of those Abyssinian breeds that were rare and revered: he often prowled down the hallways of his temple, as silent as death itself, his tall figure casting shadows in every corner. Two upturned ears and a tail behind his chiseled frame. Because as beautiful as Geto Suguru was—he was just as dangerous. 

And perhaps you knew better than anyone.

After all, as his right-hand member of the Association, you followed Geto wherever he went. To every dojo he visited to make sure that the other Association members were in top form for a battle; of course, it’d end up with him defeating them all and piling on the fatigued bodies as a lesson. To every home he had to visit, a mere smile of his being enough to intimidate even the most rebellious of ex-members (there were rarely any left breathing) into staying quiet. Perhaps even joining their circle once more. 

To every meeting he ordered, seating before rows upon rows of men and women and everyone in-between—bowed at the waist reverently between who they saw as a deity himself. 

Because in many ways, he was.

And here you were as a mere human before him: on your knees, mouth gaped as he trickled out more ropey splashes of cum.

Such sheer volumes of it flooding the cavern of your mouth, ending up dribbling down the sides of your lips in satiny ribbons. After he finishes tuggin’ his swollen cock a few more times to milk out his final beads of cum, Geto taps his blushing tip straight on your lips, your tongue, your cheek - just to watch your expression threaten to contort in surprise. 

And then he’s setting his length free and bringing down a hand to cup your chin.

The roughened fatness of his thumb wipin’ away a glittering bead of syrup. “There, there…” Geto hums, “Think that pussy’s sorry enough now, gorgeous?”

You attempt to speak, but your mouth’s too full. “Mmm—mmpf.”

“That’s what I thought.” He snickers meanly to himself. And before you know it, that thumb of his that’d been nicely roverin’ down the edges of your stained lips starts pushing inwards- starts pushing his digit deep inside your sloppy mouth and reaching for the very back of your throat. It makes some predatory part of him sing with glee to watch your eyes tear up, and your nose crinkle at the intrusion. “But I don’t know…I still don’t think she’s sorry enough.”

Your eyes shoot open, lashes heavy with tears.

Still not sorry enough?

Still not sorry enough?

Where did this even begin—all because you’d had the audacity to fake it. 

It’d been another night cooped up in Geto Suguru’s grand quarters, which had quickly become your favorite area of his hideout, and he’d been fucking you long and hard aaaaaall night. He’d been keeping his ravenous tip lodged nearly where your throat was, and driven you crazily over the edge more times than you could count.

And as a result of that, maybe you’d gotten a little…sloppy.

Before you knew it, Geto was tappin’ away at your clit with his thumb- intending to send you both hurtling into your highs. But being so overstimulated, you couldn’t help but put on a little show faking it- hell, you weren’t even sure whether you could catch on at this point.

Yet you should’ve known that the incredible senses of a cat hybrid would always know.

Always.

And so here you were: with your mouth stuffed till the brim, time and time again, in punishment for attempting to con the leader. Whilst your cunt throbbed away animalistically between your legs-

“I can smell that ungrateful pussy of yours growing wetter.” The hybrid’s keen nose twitches- sweeter. The room seemed to get so much sweeter - like a candy factory - whenever you grew more aroused.

“I- hck! can’t help it…” With monumental effort, you’re speaking through the fingers he had probing between your kiss-swollen lips. 

“Yes, you can.” He spits. “Does that ungrateful pussy think she deserves my cock?”

You can’t stop yourself—you’re nodding and nodding. Resting on the heels of your feet and grindin’ back against those mounds - it’s the only sort of friction you’re able to get right now. And by the way that Geto’s dexterous tail was swishing from side-to-side, then it seems that he didn’t quite appreciate that, either…

And so with such a mean snarl upon his handsome face- he pulls out the thumb that’d been massaging your tongue. Getting sucked. And without a single warning, Geto grabs the back of your scalp and rams your mouth down his cock- all the way till the base. Until the tufts of his jet-black hair was scraping your nose, and you’re moaning needily around him. You needed him so badly.

“Tch- seems she really does want my cock.” With raised brows, Geto looks down at where you were pushing n’ pressing yourself against your feet. How it covered every single spot your pussy touched with a glistenin’ layer of slick. “Fine…”

Your eyes shoot open. Looking up at him pleadingly—

“Fine, that silly pussy can have my cock…” Geto’s grip on you grows even tighter - searing. “She can have my loooong, thick cock.” He leans down to whisper in your ear, “But she better know that I am very angry at her.”

And then you’re being pulled off his hard erection with a pwah! 

Soon enough, you’re finding yourself laid flatly against the leader’s futon. 

His powerful hips pinning yours down, his long hair loosening around the two of you like a curtain- his muscular tail keeping one of your legs pinned to the side as he presses your thighs open n’ shovels you with his ravenous inches. 

From the glistening crown of his shaft—down, down, down until those familiar curls surrounding his hilt.

Geto fucks you like he’s furious at you-

Like he’s aiming to leave a few purple bruises on that cervix of yours, like he’s stretching out your walls so they remember his exact size. He wants you to feel him between your legs even after he’s pulled out - maybe that’d be enough of a reminder to keep your damn pussy in line. And even as he thinks about it, the cat hybrid’s hastening his hips.

Piston after piston after piston.

His fingers dart upwards to grab at your clit- and you’re genuinely sobbing as he squeezes it. Somewhere in the muddled rationale of your brain, you’re sure that he’s fucking you just to make you cry. 

With his other hand, Geto brings that spit-coated thumb up to his mouth n’ licks it clean. Then his lip curls, “Disgusting. This fuckin’ pussy doesn’t even deserve what m’giving her.” Pinching your throbbing nub once more, “Does she?”

“I-I—” You bawl. “I don’t-”

“What’s that?” Another pinch. “Say it louder so that she’s hearing too-”

“I don’t!”

“Damn right.” Geto twitches his nose once your cunt simply grows even wetter, “Hear that?”

Whatever noises he’s wrenching from between your legs as he fucks you- it seems to be enough of a answer to him. And then he’s hitting your sodden womb with a smack!

“Shouldn’t even be fucking her- tch, not after she went against her leader.” Geto muses to himself, “She should be thanking the- hah, universe that I’m just in rut.”

Cold water pours down your body - or perhaps that was just Geto’s sticky precum dribbling out in puddles. “You’re in rut?” You gasp.

“Problem—?”

“N-not at all.” In fact, you’re spreading your thighs apart and bucking into his battering thrusts. Even more. Such greed; despite how well Geto was fucking you…you’re still yearning for more of him. Lashes fluttering with tears, you don’t think you’ve ever been more honest in your entire life as you plead—“I want you to f-fuck me until you’re shooting blanks—” Reaching around his toned waist and tuggin’ on his tail. “-Suguru.”

His breath hitches.

And then he purrs. 

“Fine, you’re forgiven…” Before elation can hit you, he twists his fingers on your sodden clit. Hard.

“O-oh-”

“-if you squirt f’me.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - RUT RUT RUT.

Hybrid type: Canis lupus familiaris

He couldn’t help himself.

He honestly couldn’t.

Choso Kamo has no idea what’s gotten into him.

One morning, he’s waking up with the most painful boner of his entire life—and it seems that you’d gone out to the store bright n’ early. So that’s no big deal. Shit happens. He could handle it all by himself: he’d flounced out of bed and headed straight into the bathroom for a cold shower - having his own hand wrapped around his cock wouldn’t feel nearly as good as having yours.

And so that problem had been taken care of.

Or so Choso had thought.

The next little (not-so-little) issue had popped up almost immediately after he’d exited the shower. 

All freshened-up, Choso was drying his shoulder-length hair with a towel as he walked into the bedroom. And then he’d seen it.

Then he’d mindlessly cast his gaze around the room and ended up dropping it onto…the bucket of laundry that he was meant to fold today. And other than the nagging guilt of putting it off, he’d been fixated on one thing: the lacy black panties that you’d left on top of the pile.

Without thinking twice, Choso’s hybrid tail was wagging. Without thinking even once, Choso’s hand had cast out and grabbed it.

And brought it to his face to sniff—

Then lo and behold, he was sporting an utterly painful boner that made the hybrid rush straight back into the bathroom. Except…this time, it was one that couldn’t be willed away no matter how many cold buckets of water he poured over his head, no matter how many times he thought about unsexy practices like taxes or…basically anything that wasn’t related to you, or anything you wore, or anything you said. 

He’d been forced to wrap a guilty hand around his cock and jerk himself to ecstasy before he could leave the bathroom again.

This time, as long as he avoided looking at your panties on the laundry pile, he was able to leave the room without popping a boner. 

Kidding.

Choso Kamo made two steps before he was feeling something akin to withdrawals—and soon enough, he was finding himself elbow-deep in the laundry bucket, shuffling around to hunt each and every pair of panties he could find. And then—and then he was speed-walking to the laundry room itself, grabbing every single scrap of overpriced lace he could find: washed and unwashed.

Dropping it all down on the bed before tearing his shorts down and pulling his cock raw. Tail wagging. Palm red. Mouth gaping open.

What was happening to him?

What was happening to his body?

Why was he feeling so…

But no matter how many times he was cummin’ all over your scattered panties on the bed - it still wasn’t enough for him.

And that’s the state you found your poor, poor boyfriend in when you came home.

.

.

.

Squelch!

“J-just a little more…” Choso’s voice comes out botched. Hot breaths sticking to the column of your neck, making the skin ‘round that area feel sticky.

Everything about this was such a mess.

Such a mess.

The bedsheets sticking to your back. The cum flowing between your quivering legs. Even Choso’s movements- the smallest, sloppiest semi-thrusts that were all he could manage. Anything more and he was on the verge of cumming blanks—so now he merely had his ruby-red tip stuffed between your pussylips n’ delicately shifting your sweet spots aside. 

Large tears start up at his waterline and end up flowing down his cheeks. “Just a little more and I think m’gonna stop, baby.”

“No need to rush, Cho.” You coo reassuringly from beneath him. Reaching one hand up, you wipe away some of Choso’s tears. “Take as long as you need.”

His hybrid tail wags behind him as he takes in your words. You always did treat him so tenderly.

“Yes, but I p-promise…” He whimpers. Such a sweet, sweet noise hatching at the back of his throat as he bucks his hips backwards- n’ draws a gluey vertical line down the expanse of your cervix. “Just one more and m’gonna- hck! stop.”

“Of course.” Pushing back on the dark brown bangs that stuck to his forehead, “But remember that you’re in rut, baby. I don’t know if it’ll- haaah, end so easily.”

“But I’ve gotta.”

Voice cracking.

Desperate—just so desperate.

His hips are stuttering forwards at an incredible pace, lashing out into every hidden ridge n’ crevice deep inside you. Even more powerful because of his hybrid status. The toned edges of his pelvis are practically gluing to you—feeling sleek all over with a layer of sheen that escapes from the top of his ruddied tip. Even though Choso wasn’t exactly cumming at the moment, he was bawling out such volumes of precum that made it feel as though he was. And he thumbs it inside you with a whimper.

“I n-need to. This has to be the last one.” Almost breathing. Almost speaking to himself rather than you. He continues between punctured thrusts, “You wanna know why? Otherwise m’just gonna keep cumming, baby…”

Your eyes widen. “What do you mean, Choso?”

Hiccups crackle at the back of his throat. His ears start to droop.

And with a trembling expression, Choso thumbs in the last of his translucent sap. Then he’s holding onto the base of his cock and funneling you with it- you think he might be holdin’ onto himself to better guide his probing tip into your sweet spots…but no. 

No, you’re quickly coming to realize that Choso was grasping onto himself solely because he needed to stop himself from cumming so much. Needed to. 

There’s a twitch between his eyebrows, and he bites down on his lower lip as he waves off yet another high. “I-I just can’t seem to stop.” And it wasn’t just that pussydrunken tone of his - Choso sounded absolutely gone, ruined, wrecked by this point. “I don’t know what’s gotten over me—but I just wanna fuck you all full until I physically can’t cum anymore…”

“Oh—” Your moans are long and hollowed.

“I just wanna start shooting blanks- maybe that’d get me to stop fucking you finally.” Between the slurps and squelches of your cunt gulping him up, he manages to echo his words. “It’s just so addictive, baby…” Pulling out the raw, sap-glossed edge of his shaft- he draws a few hearts on top of your pussy before funneling back in. “I just wanna fuck you like a damn dog-”

“Oh!” Because at that very moment, Choso leans forwards and bites a good marking at the crook of your neck. “Easy there, boy.”

Hips only speeding up. Hips only milking himself even more…“I just wanna watch my girl’s pussy get covered in my cum. Flood with it.” He sniffles, “I just wanna ngh- fuck you and fuck you—” Attacking your mouth with a sloppy, passionate kiss. “-again and again and again- I can’t fucking stop myself.”

And Choso had long since been pussydrunken- his rut just made him extra-sensitive to those lecherous sensations. 

But now you were almost as cockdrunk.

Jaw dropping. Heels hooking around his waist. Pupils shaping into hearts—Choso takes one single look at that expression, and his entire body’s wracking in visceral shivers. 

That animalistic side to him taking over as he fucks you long and hard- “Baby, I think m’gonna cum again soon…” He whispers in your ear. “And after I cum again- ngh, m’gonna need you to put me back in my senses before I go another round. And then another—and another. Because soon enough m’gonna be fucking you for daaaaaays.”

“I don’t mind.” You mutter, more to yourself.

“What was that?” He asks.

And you’re shaking your head: you knew that Choso thought you couldn’t take it with your human stamina. He wanted to go for days. You wanted to go for days…“Nothing at all.” Hooking your arms around his neck, “Cum inside me, baby.”

It takes only a few more vulgar strokes before he’s finishing off—so overstimulated by this point that it’s just a few pearly-white beads of sap. Just a few trickles of hot cum. Before nothing more can escape out of him- and Choso’s merely bucking into you for pleasure, riding out the dry waves of his orgasm. Cumming dry. 

Peak after peak.

Rollin’ his dried-up cock into your gooey depths.

He shakes as his bliss overcomes him. The prettiest tears dripping down his cheeks and hanging off of his pointed chin. 

Soon enough, he’s fucked himself limp on your perfect pussy.

And all it takes is a mere nudge to flip your positions; with Choso seats back against the pillows, and you straddling his reddened hips. Bouncin’ your cunt down his thick cock.

His eyes damn-near bulge out of his skull. Though you can see his long tail wagging happily- “But baby, can you—”

“I can take it.” You smirk. “So be a good puppyboy f’me and beg.”

“W-woof…”

A rut could last a week.

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Easy, Tiger…

Hybrid type: Panthera tigris

Now, it was no secret that your boyfriend is a tiger hybrid. 

Endangered. Enormous. The rarest amongst even the rare hybrids; his striped tail and broad figure drew stares wherever the two of you went. Often, onlookers were torn between admiration and intimidation as they gazed upon the great hybrid- the great hybrid that caught their stares, crumpled them up, and flung them right back at them at 308 mph with a single glare…

Needless to say, Ryomen Sukuna’s temper was one befitting of a tiger hybrid.

And most people knew not to mess with your boyfriend. Most people knew not to so much as nudge his patience. 

Except for you, that is.

“Meow for me, Kuna.” You didn’t care if you got on his nerves.

“Fuck off.”

“Pleeeeease—?”

“What sort of fuckin’ tiger hybrid meows?”

You’re seated on Sukuna’s lap while he tries to work on some ol’ project; knees straddling his waist, back facing his laptop, and your fingers dug into his coral-pink hair. It was just so soft and bouncy underneath your touch, and soon enough your hands found themselves edging into the sinuous area of his ears.

Tiger ears.

“H-hah…” He shivers. “Watch your hands, woman.” Comes Sukuna’s low snarl. His breath tickles the column of your neck, and in your peripheral vision you see his long canines point. “Y’know damn well that I’m sensitive there.”

“Oh, are you?” With a dramatic gasp, you’re turning to face him. And laughter bubbles to your throat as you notice the irritated tick in his jaw already. “Sensitive? And here I thought you were some big, bad tiger hybrid.”

Sukuna looks at you incredulously, “Damn right I am.”

“Oh yeah?” And then your fingers are gliding up the mountains of his ears. Right from the base, and then up to the very tip-

“H-hey—fuck.” A carnal shiver wracks through him, and Sukuna’s striped tail sways from side-to-side behind him. “That doesn’t prove anything?”

And then right back down again—and then…fuck, and then you’re finding that good spot behind his ears that makes him shutter his eyes and lean into your touch. Like some damn housecat, Sukuna’s letting out a slow, satisfied purr as your fingers continue their fatal ministrations. He’d slap himself if it didn’t feel so good.

Through the slight gaps in his vision, he spots a victorious grin spread across your pretty lips. “Meow f’me, Kuna.”

Leaning deeper into your touch. His lips purse, “M-me…” And then Sukuna’s eyes shoot open as he realizes just what he was about to do.

Just what you were close to making him do.

A fucking tiger hybrid and he’s meowing for you?!

Now that can’t be.

Before you know it, one of Sukuna’s large, bulky hands reaches up and smushes your cheeks together- how cute. Those honed nails of his prickle over your skin - just light enough to send goosebumps scattering - and then he’s running it down to grab you by your throat. 

“You exceed your limits, brat.”

You smirk n’ lean down to kiss him on the nose. “Easy, tiger.”

And the thing is…Sukuna’s heart jumps to his throat - and his cock - the moment he reads that expression on your face. The type of smugness that told him- you wanted to be fucked back into your place.

He huffs. Silly little human—

Just a few minutes later, the massive hybrid has you stood and shoved against the edge of his work desk. Polished oak pushing against your body, Sukuna’s front pressing into you from behind; even the slightest squirms mean you can feel his erect cock. Those important documents his assistant, Uraume, told him were confidential go flying everywhere the minute he’s clawin’ aside your sodden panties- ripping them.

Giving his rock-hard erection a good squeeze before shoving down his grey sweatpants and shovelling himself raw.

Not the barest bit of stretchin’ out your elastic hole. Before you feel himself fitting in until the very hilt-

“Oh-ohhhh—” Your hands are shooting out in front of you, dragging faint nail marks into the wood. Mouth dropping agonizingly as the delicious curve of his length starts smearing down your goopy walls.

Just a single semi-thrust. Just a lurch of his globular tip- swipin’ down every sweet cranny and orifice without even trying. Your back arches into him, “Kuna, that feels so- mmpf!”

Before you know it, one of his large hands comes up to cover your mouth. “Shut it, girlie. M’trying to make you meow for me.”

Lashes fluttering, “M-me?”

Yet another rugged slam! The luscious tip of his shaft opens up every crevice and seeps hot precum into your every pore. Sukuna always managed to fuck you so agonizingly well—and even now, he was rendering your body weak and tremblin’ with just a few hits to the back of your pussy. Back and forth. Back and forth.

One of his roughened hands glides down your back until it rests on the base of your spine. Arching you even more. 

The sensual end of his shaft curved up juuuuuust a little upwards and dragged his drivelling tip down the roof of your cunt. And you can’t help but moan out-

“Now now.” A slam of his left hand down on your stuffed pussy. Sukuna cranes his head to the side and watches those bloated lips of yours quiver- adorable. “What did I say about you stayin’ quiet?”

“I-I didn’t realize you were seriou- mmm.” He’s pressing his right palm further against your face. 

He whispers, “Or m’slapping this ungrateful cunt once for every word.”

Pushing against you. Pinning you beneath him. Keeping your restless hips in place - no matter how much you’re bucking and begging for more, Sukuna’s the one in control of how his solid, veiny inches were dragging in and out of your pussy. Again and again. 

And as he’s pummeling into you as if he was furious—Sukuna spits out mercilessly, “Don’t tell me I’ve gotta fuck you stupid to make you shut up?” His tone was low and dangerous- one of his knees shoves between your legs n’ spreads them even wider for easier access. “Are you this pussy?” When you don’t answer, he’s letting his hips run even deeper and massage your ass cheeks with his scruff of pink happy trail. “Huh?”

Confusion and lust befogging your brain- “N-no…?”

He’s puncturing each syllable with thrusts- honing in deep at the back of your gooey pussy. You’re openin’ up so readily for him. “Are you the one I want meowing?”

Ribbons of spit fall from your lips and soil his palm. “No.”

“And so are you supposed to speak?” 

“No-”

“Then why the fuck are you speaking now?” 

Even now. 

That little—

Your jaw drops as you realize that you’d just been baited into wasting your breath, your words- and your head swivels ‘round to look at him.

And oh, what a sight…

You’re only met with Sukuna’s cocky smile and your stinging pussy being punished with three more consecutive slap-slap-slaps that send shockwaves of pain and pleasure through your veins. The entire expanse of your body seems to be set alight. The tips of your toes are curling inwards-

And as if your body couldn’t have been any more unstable; Sukuna’s powerful tail hooks around your right calf and maneuvers it as if you were nothing but a pretty lil’ doll beneath him. Just the cutest little mewls dripping out of you once his hybrid appendage drags your leg up onto the table and keeps it there—so pliable for him. This sudden change in angle makes his thick, vein-covered cock rover even deeper.

With the burgeoning end of his tip, he’s pinpointing every single nook and bundle of nerves.

“I don’t wanna hear another peep out of you, m’here to listen to this pretty pussy. And I don’t care if I have to fuck you stupid to listen to this kitty…” Sukuna warns. And as your chest heaves, he’s removing his hand from your mouth- you can moan n’ mewl as much as you wanted.

But rest assured that he’s still keeping his claws ‘round your throat and making you whimper as those pointed tips graze your tender skin. Marking you. “I…mmm.” 

It’s almost too much for him to handle: watching you chew on the inside of your cheek as you held your words back.

And with a gleeful smile, the tiger hybrid leans back n’ coos at your pussy - folds glistening with the excess of his precum clinging onto you, the outer edges of your cunt bloated from how many times he’s slamming and slamming against them. Until the area of his pelvis burns red. “Heeeeere kitty kitty~” You’ve never heard him speak to you like that…“This girl here’s jealous because m’giving you special treatment. Why don’tcha show her who owns this cock?”

“Kun- oh.” Pressing your lips together as the fire starts sizzling at the pit of your stomach.

“Because you do own this cock- me, don’t you?” Giving you yet another spank! “I’d meow for you.”

“Pussydrunk…” You mutter- only to be hit with another barrage of slap-slaps that were just pushing you closer towards the edge. 

“Why dont’cha make a scene? Make some noise f’me?” And then his left hand dips between your legs and ends up grazing between your pussylips. Finding that button of your clit. “Why don’tcha meow—?”

And all it takes is one squeeze- one.

Before light explodes behind your closed eyelids - when did you even shut them - and you’re suddenly being propelled into your high. Your orgasm thunders between your legs n’ shoots hot dopamine through every vein, vessel, and atom.

It takes over your body in a wave- harsh and fast. 

And as the torrents of it take over you, Sukuna’s keeping a firm hand latched onto your pussy and rolling over your throbbing clit. Meanwhile his cock accelerates in and out to bash you through every incredible peak. 

“Yeah- yeah.” Sukuna hisses into your ear, breath scorching enough that it causes your surrounding skin to perspire. The space between you two was non-existent and sizzling. “Yeahhhh, feels pretty good, huh?” 

His tiger tail pushes down on your restless leg- keeping you hiked up. And Sukuna’s ruthless hits only get more and more accurate by the second: your g-spot was likely reddened n’ stinging from the inside. 

“Feels nice to meow? S’this what you wanted so bad—” Those sweet, sweet noises of you getting even wetter as he fucked you through your orgasm…like music to his ears. “And awwww, look at that- heh…” Sukuna’s thumb taps down on your pulsating clit, “She’s even purring f’me.”

The two most prominent veins down his shaft make you mewl as he’s bouncing off every good spot. And you claw down his table as you keen—“Y-you’re going to- oh. M’gonna get you back for this, gonna milk you dry just wait and watch.”

Without a second of hesitation, you reach up and graze your fingertips across his twitching ears. 

And at that very moment, you feel his bulging cock swell even impossibly bigger inside of you.

He purrs, hybrid tail pulling you both closer together. “Easy, tiger.”

♡ INO TAKUMA - LET THE DOGS OUT!

Hybrid type: Canis lupus familiaris

“You’re wrong.”

“I’m right.”

“You’re wrong-”

“I’m wrong.”

“You’re right-” Ino blinks. “No, wait—”

But you’re jumping on it just as quickly. “Awww, thank you for telling me what I already know, Taku.” You’re running your hands through his tawny golden hair, scratching behind the hybrid’s golden retriever ears- dammit, you knew he was weak for this. How evil….

And he can only manage out a half-hearted growl.

To which you’re raising your brows, and it’s enough to make Ino nuzzle the crook of your neck. Hiding the pretty pout that was surely taking over his lips by now.

“Down, boy.” You smirk, “So you agree with me that cat hybrids are better, huh?”

“No!” 

Before you can get out anything more, he’s clawin’ onto your oversized t-shirts. Pawing you. Placating those traitorous words of yours by pressing his heated body even closer.

Ino mutters, “And I can prove it, too.” So determined. 

If there was anything that Ino hated more than those damn cat hybrids with their feline sneakiness and obsessive preening; then it was your admiration for it. Your attention. And though he knew that part of you was teasing - quite successfully, at that - you didn’t expect a golden retriever hybrid to act normal about it, did you?

Chuckling, “And how’s that?”

Oh, you knew you were in for it.

Because no matter how cute cat hybrids could be, nothing could ever compare to how possessive puppyboys were.

.

.

.

“See? See—?” Ino’s tone was utterly botched; husky and cracking embarrassingly towards the very end. Unstable. There was a carnal nature to it that just made the hairs on your body raise- and no matter how desperately you’ve heard him speak before, nothing could compare to this.

As he’s holding- practically gluing your hips down onto his.

Skin against skin. Hot sweat gliding between the two of you.

Letting the blushing, bulging tip of his cock swab inside his eighth orgasm of the night. The miry ribbons of his sap layerin’ around his inches and getting pushed in even deeper—or at least attempting to.

Ino had cum so many times tonight that he was having a hard time keeping it all in.

In and in—again and again. A few beads of his cream-white cum foams between your legs and makes the hybrid’s nose crinkle- he’s reaching his left hand up and pushing the excess inside with his thumb. “See? Feel me filling you up with so much cum? All the way until…” Reachin’ up just a little and pushing down on your stomach, he watches as it makes the wads of cum stuffed inside you empty out. “-you’re just bloated with me.”

Making an even bigger mess for him to pretend to have to ‘clean up’ or something or the other. 

And you’re feeling so good- Ino’s curvaceous tip was smoochin’ around your sweetest inside. Your most sensitive parts. “Mmm, yeah. Fuck- I can feel you so deep inside.”

“Right from these pussylips…and right up to your womb.” Ino sputters out. And it’s a sheer wonder that he could even string together coherent sentences at this point—just that pussydrunk. “I’ve m-made my mark eeeeeverywhere on this pussy, sweetness.”

“M-made your mark?” You giggle- he was just speaking nonsense. But it was just so cute how earnestly Ino meant it.

His long, doe-like lashes fluttering. His beautiful brown eyes tearing up. His lips quivering the slightest bit every time your walls were clenchin’ and milking him; draaaaagging sloppily from the girthy end of his base and up to his slender tip. “Mhm-” Nodding and nodding- the clapping noises of his hips meeting yours just speeds up. “So that even when m’cleaned out of you, you’re gonna feel me- gonna feel empty without me.”

“Oh…” Your maw drops.

And he’s immediately lurching his dazed head upwards and planting a direct thwack! of spittle between your gorgeous lips. “Even these lips. You’re gonna miss me- ngh, s-stuffing these pretty walls full. You’re gonna miss the feeling of me here—” 

Mazin’ between your clingy walls, entering his swollen head into your womb. 

“-begging for pups.”

“Baby, you’re pussydrunk-”

Though the words don’t seem to reach his buzzing ears.

“And any other fuckin’ cat hybrid-” He spits out those last two words like venom. Teeth just a little bared. “-are gonna know. They’re gonna smell me on you.” Hybrids, in general, always did have more heightened senses than humans. “They’re gonna sense me. They’re gonna know that Ino Takuma has been here—that he’s made this pussy his before any of them could.” 

Lovingly, Ino’s patting your bloated pussy- plap-plap! 

You’re so wet that beads of sap n’ cum end up smeared across his fingertips. And he’s skating them down your crevice to pinch at your throbbing clit. 

His hybrid tail wags beneath him; you could sense the sheets shifting as a result. “And they’re gonna know…” Ino’s mouth waters just at the notion. “-that I’ve been a good boy for you.”

Your breath hitches at the feeling of something building, and building, and building deep within you.

It’s accumulating with every single ruthless slam! that he was honing out. Hitting every tender area- your g-spot was aaaaaching for touch every single time Ino pulled back to reel in again, just addicted to him already.

And soon enough, you’re finding yourself meeting his every thrust with a needy bounce. 

Making your hybrid boyfriend beneath you get pushed up and down the creaking bed- his ears twist in ecstasy when you accelerate. “Now, I wouldn’t say that…” You murmur, and without a single warning—you’re reaching up and tugging on one of fluffy ears. “-you’ve been a real bad boy, Taku.”

“B-but I am better than any cat hybrid… And then his voice is breaking- and Ino Takuma is shattering into his ninth high of the night. 

Honestly, it doesn’t even feel like his ninth high.

It feels like five at once. Harsh bouts of pleasure thrum through his body; making it feel as though every single droplet of blood he possessed was rushing out of his limbs and collecting at the very tip-top crown of his shaft. That blushin’ rouge tip just pouring out sticky wads of cum into your deepest depths, sliding them along his heavy inches and into your squeezing walls-

Ino babbles away stupidly as he cums- “I thought I was a good boy.” He hiccups, his lower lip quivering delicately. “Thought I was—ngh, better than…oh.” 

And then he’s planting both feet on the navy-blue sheets and arching even deeply up into you.

Desperately.

He was practically wrenching your next orgasm out of you.

You’re letting out a brief whimper at the sudden shockwaves of bliss overtaking you - rendering your vision a little bleary, and your toes curled in pleasure. 

And through the fogginess that curls around your brain, you’re able to witness how his long lashes start to dapple in tears. Huffing, “So mean t’me, pretty…” 

You snicker, “Only because I love you, Taku.” Leaning down to kiss him tenderly- “You know I can stop the joking around if you want?”

“No…” He shakes his head. “When you’re mean to me it makes me hard.”

Oh.

And what else were you supposed to do; but hum thoughtfully to yourself as you reached out and shuffled in the bedside cabinet? Bringing out that bright-red collar that he loved so much? Snagging it around Ino’s pretty throat and watching as his Adam’s apple bobs-

“Then why don’t you act like a good boy f’me, hm?”

Ino gulps. “Y-yes, ma’am.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - #PUSSYPOWER!

Hybrid type: Panthera uncia

Two words: Snow Leopard.

If there ever were a breed of cat hybrids that drew more attention than a Snow Leopard, then Gojo Satoru would find them and throttle them himself. 

Kidding…of course.

But that’s to be said: there were reasons that he was the most talked-about man on campus, among both humans and hybrids alike. He was the frat president of Curses Epsilon, he was tall (6’4 on a bad day, according to the man himself), he was beefy, he was accomplished in a plethora of sports and physics academics of which medals and certificates lined his fraternity bedroom. Did he mention he was president of Curses Epsilon? 

Even those dog hybrids that seemed to have a perpetual grudge against the feline type had to admit that there was something eye-catching about him. 

Blue hair. Impish smile. White hair—the sole reason that white hair started trending- and even those proud grey wolf hybrids started dying their hair to match him.

At least according to him, that’s the reason. 

All in all, the point was that when Gojo Satoru had asked you out - after an entire semester of crushing on you during Professor Yaga’s lectures, sitting in the row behind you - you said no. And he’d damn-near had a heart attack—so did just about everyone in the vicinity that heard you. You just rejected Gojo Satoru himself. 

Were pigs about to fly?! They shifted awkwardly in the distance.

And looking at the crestfallen expression on his face, you couldn’t help but explain…you’d never dated a cat hybrid before. You didn’t know if you’d mesh well.

But he’d promised.

He’d promised that it’d be no different. Whatever other hybrids you’d dated in the past - whatever snakes and eugh…dog hybrids - he’d be even better than them.

He’d treat you so much better. He’d fuck you so much bett—

You’d slapped a hand over his mouth and stopped him right then n’ there. And sweeping a look at the people around you two - you find that they were pretending to be far more interested in the surrounding flooring or their textbooks in order to overhear your conversation - you promised that you’d go out with him. Just one date, you’d said.

Glee shone in his eyes—so bright that you almost had to look away.

That one date at some rundown campus coffee shop had turned into two. Two dates had turned into three. Three dates had turned into four-

Then lo and behold, you found yourself dating the most talked-about man on campus. Which seemed like a null title considering it was university, but then again this was Gojo Satoru.

And a relationship with him had been just as electric as you expected.

Especially when it was around a month in- and Gojo had come to your apartment after a four-hour long lecture. Ready to rant about his day. Ready to fall into your bed and sleep Gakuganji’s no-good assignments off. 

But a single step inside and…and he’d raised his nose into the air.

He’d taken a deep sniff.

Pupils becoming pinpoints. Fluffy tail swishing from side-to-side.

Beneath the usual lemon-scented spray that you’d use to clean your glasses, there was something…more. Something…different. It was something carnal and alluring—and it was coming from right between your legs as you walked out to greet him. Your pussy smelled strangely, irresistibly sweet to the hybrid.

Gojo Satoru looked at you and a jolt ran through your body at the expression on his face. Primal. 

.

.

.

“Heeeeere, kitty kitty~” 

You yelp—

And before you know it, your hands are clawing at the twisted-up blankets as you’re dragged back. Fucking dragged back into the hybrid’s mounted body, his hot breath plastering against the side of your neck- where you’d been bitten n’ marked raw. “Wh-where do you think you’re going?”

Your jaw drops.

Gojo’s tone was hitched. Gojo’s tone was on the verge of ruins.

It was unsteady at the ends of his words- and there was a sort of crazed tinge to it—just like the rest of his body, Gojo’s voice was trembling. Wound tight and on the verge of breaking. For the most uncountable time tonight, he shovels his ravaged cock between the cute crevice of your pussylips- and finds himself letting out an agonized whimper. 

“Fuh-fuck.” The frat president is letting out. Tail curling ‘round your right calf to prevent you from running any further, tears breaking out across his cheeks. That muscular body of his was often the target of both admiration and envy: broad shoulders, slutty waist. There was so much power held in it as one of the apex hybrids on campus—and yet, right now it was clamoring up onto yours and damn-near collapsing. “Fuck- fuck- fuck.”

Every profanity was punctuated with a torturous drag of his cock inside you. Beneath him, you’re supported only with a single arm of his hooked underneath your stomach- getting thrown ‘round by the sheer force of his thrusts.

It’s been like this for hours since he’d gotten back.

And by now, Gojo was completely and utterly overstimulated. 

But there was no way he was stopping any time soon. Not when you were…

“In heat.”

“Satoru, I told you I’m human—oh.” The way his round, ruby-red tip was entering your walls…there was just no way to describe it. There was nothing to compare to how he’d thrust apart your gluey channel and poke that one spot he knew you loved so much. And with a wretched mewl, you’re bucking back into his body. “H-humans don’t have heats, silly.”

His sharpened canines drag across the expanse of shoulder once he dips his head, cat-like ears twitching. “Then what’s that sweetness I smell?”

As if to emphasize his point, Gojo takes a looooong heave.

Nostrils flaring. Eyes growing wilder the more he’s taking in the saturated air- to him, it was an addicting combination of sex, sweat, and something sweet.

Something he couldn’t describe.

Something that befogged his mind and made his eyes roll to the back of his head. A carnal shiver wracks through him.

And it’s not long before his bludgeoning tip empties out a few more ribbons of precum- it’s enough to make warmth seep into your belly. Arousal pangs through your body, and it’s just then that Gojo lurches his head up and looks at you with primal eyes. “See- there. There.” Yet another ravenous push to the back of your pussy. His ears listen for the sloppy songs your pussy was givin’ off. “Your heat just got stronger. Do that again, sweetheart—I’m begging you, do that again for your Toru.”

“I-I don’t even know what you mean- fuck, that feels good.” You yelp.

“Do it again—do I have to get on my knees…?” And after a few more thrusts, he’s emanating out a low chuckle - he really is Gojo, after all. “Well, I guess I already am on my knees.” Knees that were currently being chafed with the constant back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.

“You need to shut up and- oh, believe me when I say I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Though you certainly weren’t complaining about the utterly feral way he was fucking you. “I think you’re just in rut- mmpf.”

He’s plastering one of his sweaty palms over your mouth. 

And then the two of you are falling backwards; Gojo’s sitting back on his haunches, upright, and taking you with him. He pounds away up into you as he remains seated kneeling—the erect length of his cock splittin’ your pussy apart so deliciously. 

Underneath his hand, your maw drops into a lecherous ‘oh’ that makes Gojo remove his palm. And then he wastes no time spittin’ into it.

Watching as his gentle wad reaches deep into your gullet. 

The snow leopard hybrid purrs as you babble in response- his deep vibrations thrumming through your body. With the accelerating pace of his hips, you’re merely growing even wetter - sloppily so - and Gojo’s practically drowning in his ecstasy as the scented air intensifies. As it takes over his entire body—practically speaks to him at a lesser, more base level. “These past few days…oh, these past few days I’ve been sensing it building up.”

The past few days? “Sh-shiiiiit.” You’re keening as his clawed hand slides down to press on your stomach- where his thickened cock was spearheading constantly.

“I’ve been smelling it on me- I’ve been jerking myself off to it thinking that it was one of your new perfumes.” And you’re unsure whether it was because of how pussydrunk he was, or purely because this was Gojo Satoru, but he doesn’t show even the slightest speck of abashment when admitting this. “And come to think of it…it’s just your heat, my girl.”

Pushing down even harder- massaging where his bulbous tip edged along your g-spot. 

“This pussy’s just been yearning f’me - I can practically hear her yowling for my cock.”

“I’m c-close—” You babble out.

Gojo’s large, fluffy tail wraps around your waist to hold you better to him.

“Oh, what a coincidence. That’s what- hah, she’s sayin’ too.” And with a few more vicious probes into your sweetest spots, you’re propelled into your high n’ Gojo’s fucking you through it maddeningly. He isn’t thrown off by the way you’re splashin’ down his thick thighs.

Squirting.

In great, torrential waves of your orgasm. 

It’s coming out in a glittery sheen- down between your legs and plastering across his own skin. Those areas of slammin’ contact between your two bodies are even louder now—plap-plap-plapping as Gojo fucks you through your high. 

Every peak and stride. Eeeeveery single height of bliss that sends dopamine pouring into your veins. Somehow, he’s managing to maze his cock into eeeevery single sweet spot you loved- and that’s elongating your orgasm until you’re in tears. “Please- fuh-fuuuuck, just like that. Just like that, just like that- oh, ngh—”

“Make a mess- make a fucking mess, sweetheart.”

“It’s too much- oh.” Back arching. Toes curling. Your heartbeat pounds in your eardrums- and you’re so far gone that you almost don’t notice the way that Gojo himself is cumming.

Though if you’re soaking him, he’s cumming dry - the tip of his irritated shaft twitches like he’s pumping out wads of seed. But what really comes out is…nothing.

Though Gojo really does feel the waves of pleasure that overtake him, even though he’s cumming dry. He’s clenching his pretty eyes shut, he’s letting his mouth quiver- just the cutest whimpers of your name escaping him as your boyfriend keeps rammin’ away his orgasm into you.

So overstimulated.

Gojo lovingly pats your quiverin’ pussy.

“And it’s all thanks to this- hah, heat here.” Gojo murmurs, his fuzzy hybrid tail briefly spankin’ down on your sopping slit before he moves it away. “Managed to make my girl squirt.”

“Heat…” Your nose crinkles, “I really don’t get why you think I’ve been in heat these past few- oh.”

Oh.

It hits you like a semi-truck.

“Satoru, did you mean my ovulation?”

The snow leopard hybrid considers this as he starts buckin’ into a whole new round.

“Ovulation…” Gojo whispers to himself- like a prayer. “Ovulation and I are gonna be besties.”

♡ HIGURUMA HIROMI - Sssstudy time.

Hybrid type: Dendroaspis polylepis

You couldn’t focus.

Maybe it was due to the column of assignments that you’d been (quite irresponsibly) been putting off; maybe it was due to the fact that your snake hybrid boyfriend was staying over and a bit too much of a…distraction. 

And the worst part was that he wasn’t even doing anything—Higuruma Hiromi sat quietly at the foot of your bed, leafing through the pages of a law textbook that you’re sure he’d already memorized from cover to cover. Unlike you, the law professor didn’t need to rush through assignments - which meant he was particularly ruthless when handing them out. 

A forbidden relationship.

A secret.

The hybrid professor was amongst the most ogled-at on campus.

And it’d taken an entire semester of your prettiest skirts and your flirtiest one-liners during tutoring lessons before Higuruma had finally gone against his personal code to ask you out.

But only after you’d moved on from his class.

And it seems that dating a law professor didn’t give you an edge- but then again, you didn’t start dating him for the edge at all.

Higuruma Hiromi was just too attractive. And smart. And gentlemanly. And hiding a sense of witty humor he rarely revealed to anyone but you.

And it was making you stray your eyes away from the utterly droll except on the rules of estate inheritance. But who could blame you? The man of thirty-two sat with his sternly handsome features pinched into something focused; sleeves of his button-up pushed to his elbows, slivers of his skin somewhat scaly, dark eyes examining the page in a way that made you squirm…

He’d never interrupt your studying. But then again he didn’t have to try.

You sigh.

Law degrees were hard.

Higuruma doesn’t look up from his textbook, “Sssomething the matter, angel?”

“Nothing.” You counter- before realizing that lying to the best lawyer in Tokyo probably wasn’t the smartest idea. “It’s just…I can’t seem to focus.”

“Oh. Why’s that?” He looks at you with his brows furrowed in concern. 

You—you want to say. It’s solely because of him that you couldn’t focus. 

Not when he’s sitting there so close, and so attractive, and so irresistible- honestly who in their right mind would be able to focus on land disputes and things when it comes to something like this? And though you don’t verbalize your thoughts, you’re sure a part of it shows on your expression.

Because without another word, Higuruma sets his book down on the bed—leaning ever-so-slightly backwards and opening his thick thighs up invitingly. You don’t have to wait for him to reach his arms out and beckon you forwards- you’re already getting up and gladly leaving your assignments behind. “Come here, sssugar. Let me teach you how to focus.”

In just about no time, your clothes are hitting the floor.

As they seem wont to do whenever you’re around him…

But nonetheless, Higuruma soon as your legs positioned atop his bulky shoulders - slightly unsteady given the semi-scaled surface of his skin. 

Back arched. Cunt dripping all over the freshly-washed sheets.

Higuruma meets the front of your cunt with his thickened tip, swipin’ it up and down the line of your folds. Dripping wet—you’re letting out the most delicious wet noises once he’s teasing your entrance- just barely probing his swollen cockhead inside, then out…watching as your hole seems to gape and clench around nothing—

In. Then out.

In. Then out. 

Before you’re growing far too impatient with his toying- and you’re bucking up deftly into him. “Hiromi, just fuck me already…”

“Just fuck you already?” He tuts, though you could hear the faint amusement in his tone. And then the hybrid’s swatting down two smooth slaps right between your pussylips- making your moans strangle in your throat. “How impatient. It seems I have more to teach you about focus and patience than I thought.”

“Fuck.”

And then he’s smiling down lovingly at you.

Perking his head up, Higuruma reaches up and grabs something off the headboard. 

And whilst you’re concentrating on not ogling his forearm muscles too much, he’s producing that jet-black tie of his that’d been thrown off in the hassle to strip yourselves of your clothes. As you watch him in slight confusion, Higuruma nods his head reassuringly down at you - and ties the silk fabric around your eyes.

A blindfold.

“Easy there.” He comforts in that warm baritone of his. You knew that he’d never do anything you didn’t want to do; and seeing him break that cold facade for you was one of your favorite parts about this.

Higuruma was running his hands comfortingly down the sides of your body, he was making sure that blindfold wasn’t too tight—he was ultimately resting his slender fingers between your quivering thighs n’ rolling over your clit. “Eeeeeasy, my girl. Now focus.” You’re nodding before you even know what he’s about to say- and that makes him smile. “I’ll be giving you one of my two cocks, and you have to guess which one it is, okay?”

Because there was another thing about snake hybrids: they had two cocks.

Long and rock-hard. Higuruma’s were blushed the prettiest rouge on his tips- stacked on one top of the other, they were both drivelling out ribbons of precum at the impatience to get inside you. Maybe he could learn a thing or two from the lesson he was drilling into you, but oh…

“Oh, f-fuuuuuck.” Soon enough - even though you can’t see him - you can feel the rotund intrusion of one of his tips. Piercing between your swollen lips and pressing deeper inside.

Deeper and deeper.

It doesn’t take long before Higuruma’s punctuating your goopy insides with thorough, passionate strokes. He just loved sweeping across every sweet spot inside you until it left you speechless—lingerin’ that hot tip of his where your g-spot was, and then lingering on your cervix. Repeatedly, he’s hitting the thoughts out of your mind; though…that’s not entirely what tonight was about, was it? 

“Now now…” You’re feeling two gentle slaps to the left side of your face. “Don’t get too fucked stupid already, angel. Focus. Which one is this? Upper or lower?”

“What- oh, fuck.” Whatever response was on the tip of your tongue is fucked away- by the indulged stripes he was drawing at the back of your pussy. Watery saliva pools in your mouth as you feel the stretch of your walls—almost to their limits. “Fuck, it feels so good, Hiro-”

Another slight spank. “I’m teaching you a lesson right now, angel. You refer to me as sssir-”

“Sir-”

“No…” Squeezing at your clit with his other hand.

Startling you. Suddenly making you buck. It makes you bellow out without even trying—“I s-said it feels so good- ngh, sssir.” Slurring your words.

Though that’s exactly what he wanted.

“Good.” And you could practically hear the smile in his words. Though Higuruma doesn’t let up so easily- in fact, he’s doing the complete opposite. “That’s how you need to focus.”

Another small slap to your cheeks, a little harder this time.

You keen.

“Upper or lower, sssugar?” He hisses.

You’re gasping for air. “I-I—”

And Higuruma being a snake hybrid meant that his mushroomy tip would be flared even larger than most hybrid species or even humans. It was the perfect shape: curved upwards, patterned with numerous veins and ridges. The area above his slit was the most delicious mechanism to drag across your inside and drive you absolutely wiiiiild.

And soon enough, you’re bucking up with a moan. “Upper….no, ngh! Lower?” Honestly, it was enough of a feat that you could speak with the way he was ruining your insides so well.

“Wrong.” Higuruma responds simply.

And then you’re feeling him slap your sweaty cheeks- and then plant a harder one down on your incorrect pussy. Before the snake hybrid reels his pelvis backwards—back and back, all the way backwards before his swollen tip is pulling out of your hole with an audible pop! And then funneling back in again.

“Upper or lower?” Higuruma asks once more.

By deduction through logic, you’re gasping- “Lower-”

“Wrong again.”

It was just so cute how your mouth drops at that very second - and the older man can’t help but lean down and give that gaping maw of yours a lil’ slap, too. Just a little punishment. 

Before he’s coursing in even harder strokes—more merciless. He was molding your soft insides to the shape of him - both of him - and it made your toes curl just how mean he was being with your body right now. His heavy balls enunciating each thrust with a thwack-thwack-thwack!

How lecherous.

Higuruma alternates between his two lengths at a frenzied pace, dippin’ each one in and out. “Upper or lower?”

“Upp-”

Thwack!

“Upper or lower?”

“I don’t…ngh.” Tears glisten in your eyes and even through the blindfold. “Lower—”

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! 

Higuruma ultimately husks out in a lowered tone, “Focus.” Hips brushing yours so hard that it was starting to sting with unyielding contact. “Get this one wrong, angel…and you’re not cumming a sssingle time tonight.”

You whimper, “P-please…”

But that’s not enough to make him take mercy on you—for Higuruma pushes his rugged tip back out with a drawn-out wet sound. And then he’s making you guess once more-

“Upper or lower?”

You’re furrowing your brows underneath the blindfold. You’re squeezing your thighs even harder around his waist in an attempt to feel him better. Hell, you’re even arching your back off the dampened mattress and giving his pistoning cock a good, long squeeeeze—

Scrambling whatever rationality was left within your brain to try and compare the feeling - the length, the upright curve, the thrumming veins - of this shaft relative to the other.

And the answer finally bestows upon you, “Is this…your upper?”

Then he hones out a thrust so loud it slams!

“Correct.”

And for your prize, you’re getting the blindfold taken off you—and the first thing you see is Higuruma’s flushed, handsome face. The second thing you see is his sudden intrusion: hips drawing even closer to yours, he somehow manages to swipe n’ stuff both aching tips inside your hole.

“Now let’s see if you can focus with both.”

♡ IEIRI SHOKO - Cream XOXO

Hybrid type: Felis catus

“Hmmm…” Dr. Ieiri Shoko removes the ear tips of the stethoscope and lets the medical instrument hang from her neck. The clinic’s faux-leather chair squeaks as she sits back; hands crossing in front of her and pinning you down with her deep, intelligent eyes.

You squirm on the examination table.

Something knowing twinkles in her gaze. 

Perhaps due to the fact that you’ve been dropping by Shoko’s clinic every other day at this point—as the newest-hired teacher at Tokyo Jujutsu High, it was inevitable that you’d be seeing a few more injuries or a bit more cursed energy exhaustion than someone more experienced like Professor Yaga. But this…this was almost getting ridiculous.

And you knew it, after all.

You were the one going there on purpose.

The first time you saw Ieiri Shoko, it was in your first week as a teacher; you’d gotten cut whilst training one of the students. And though your reverse cursed technique was in perfect condition, it seems that the cursed nature of the weapon made it harder for you to counter the damage - and so you’d wound up in the infirmary after a nasty faint. 

Waking up to…an angel.

Or so you’d thought.

Tired eyes. A mole at the corner of her eye.

A cigarette sticking out from the side of her mouth- were those even allowed on campus? And sleek, brown cat ears sticking out from her head.

“That’s one way to be introduced.” She’d droned out in her steady voice.

And after that…day after day, your mind kept thinking back to the cat hybrid. Your mind kept conjuring up all sorts of excuses that might allow you to go down to the clinic after classes—

It would be strange to just show up, right?! 

Especially since you didn’t know her that long…and thus came the excuses of a stomach ache, of a headache, of a cut that suspiciously vanished once you actually spoke to her. Must’ve been something jujutsu-related, right?

And she took it all in stride.

Which made you think that Shoko actually didn’t mind your intrusions with some made-up disease and a homemade lunch for the two of you to split. 

Thus, you were here today.

Squirming as you buttoned up your uniform - it was a potential heart murmur this time…sometimes you had to get creative you suppose - and wondering how to ask the pretty doctor out for lunch. There was this cute new café that opened up down the street, and they were said to have pretty good beer that-

“I counted your heartbeat, y’know.” Shoko says suddenly, drawing your attention. She looks at you with an unreadable gaze- though not unkind. “It was 102 beats per minute.”

“O-oh…” You wondered how you were going to explain that away—“It must’ve been-”

“Innocent murmurs don’t cause heart beats to raise- and in any case, you don’t have one.” She crosses her arms and takes you in your half-dressed state; legs crossing, tail swishing. “You don’t have to make up excuses to see me, y’know? You can just come by whenever you want.”

Damn those cat hybrids- they were always so alluring without even meaning to be. 

Unsure what to say, you’re sure you’re sputtering out some pathetic amalgamation of excuses and assurances that you’ll heed her advice next time—heart racing, body heating up, your hands rushing up to button your blouse to regain some dignity, at least…

“Don’t.” 

Only to be stopped by the woman of your dreams herself.

Shoko’s gaze was feline, “I like it like that.”

Less than five minutes later, she has you laid-out on the examination table once more. Hoverin’ in the space between your open legs as laps and laps your drippin’ wet pussy. 

Her tongue was so looooong and flexible—swirling a few times over your swollen clit before dipping in and out of your hole. So sloppily; she’s making out with the tender edges of your pussy, lipstick smearing everywhere and anywhere she was reaching. 

“O-ohhh…” Your back arches against the cool surface of the examination table. Hands grasping bare air. “It feels so good, Sho, keep going.”

And with something that sounds akin to a sensual chuckle- Shoko reaches out and intertwines her fingers with yours midair. You’re just taking the time to admire the beauty in her fingers—so competent in what she does, and painted in a pale lavender. Everything about her was so pretty…

And just as soon as you do - it’s as if she’s reading your mind.

For one set of her fingers guide your own hands to hold onto her head- your hands smoothing down her long hair, scratching behind her twitching cat ears. And the other set of her fingers are stuffin’ your awaiting pussy—teasing apart your elastic entrance and running her smooth fingertips along her walls. “Stay still now, kitty.”

“H-how—?” That was practically impossible when two of her slender digits were rovering inside. So smooth. So steady. She was easing in your first ring of muscle before mazing in deeeeep. “N-not when it feels this good, ngh.”

“I said stay.” She commands, in a slightly more serious tone. Pulling out and slapping your clit in punishment.

And though you’re whimpering in defiance, you follow her words.

Seeing as you’re listening to her, vibrations start running from your core- it takes you a second to realize that Shoko was purring. Mouth curved. Eyes half-lidded - like the cat that got the cream. As a little apology for the spank from earlier, the cat hybrid leans down and gives an open-mouthed kiss onto your clit. 

“Good girl.” She hums. “Patients should stay still until they’re feeling better.”

You sputter, “B-but you said I don’t have a-”

“You don’t.” Shoko affirms. She nods a little bit, and that ends up pressing the tip of her nose against your clit- so sensitive that you’re bucking up into her instantly.

Just as quickly, you’re feeling her cold fingertips pang down once more.

“Now what did I say?” Tutting. Shoko might have been the most laid-back doctor you’ve been to in your entire life—but now you see that all the normal sternness went to her in bed. It went into the way she’s spankin’ your pussy three more times - thwack-thwack-thwack - once you’re not replying fast enough for her.

And you’re just barely hanging on- just barely able to babble out. “Y-you said to stay still- ngh, fuck.” 

“Hm, I’d call you a good girl for that—” Smile plastered against your sopping wet lips. “-but we both know that’s not true.”

And then she’s roving her digits into sweet spots you hadn’t even known existed- the doctor knew exactly where to hit. In but a mere few strokes, she’d mapped out your cunt as if she’s been eating you out for yeeeeears—and then attaching herself to your clit and hollowing her cheeks sucking as though she hasn’t had a single proper meal in years.

The stimulation is so much- she’s hooking two fingers into the area of your g-spot and you’re immediately bucking. Only to get Shoko’s glossy tail hooked around one of your ankles and ruthlessly plopping you back down-

You weren’t moving a single inch when she was having her lunch break.

“Might just be the worst patient I’ve ever had-” Catching your eye, she reassures with a slick-glistening smile. “Don’t worry, you’re the only patient I’ve given special treatment to like this.”

“Th-thank goodness.”

Yet another spank. “But that doesn’t mean you aren’t the worst. Stay fuckin’ still.”

With a whimper, you’re just taking it.

Every push, every throb, every plunge of her expert hands. But you think her favorite part might be how she kept rollin’ her tongue over your plump, puckered clit - pushing aside your bloated folds and just nagging at it as if it was the sweetest candy.

Shoko kept her lips glued to your pussy, and was tugging and draaaaagging your clit with her teeth—until you were basically numb with pleasure. She’s barely coming up for air.

And once that starstruck expression crosses your face, she’s gurgling out a few giggles. “Atta girl.” A single spank- just to keep you on the edge. “Acting good for me now? Maybe you’re all cured.”

“M-maybe…” You still didn’t even know what she was diagnosing you with-

“Lying.” For a second there, you think that Shoko’s just read your mind—and then, belatedly, you’re realizing that you’d just blabbered those words out loud. So much lustful need coiled around your brain that you were just keening-

“I-I only lied to see you-”

Another spank. “And that’s still lying, isn’t it?”

“I guess—oh.” Another two spanks. Harder, this time.

“Wasting a doctor’s time. Taking up precious resources.” In fact, the best part of her day was seeing your gorgeous face- but every stinging word only left you wetter. And mockingly, Shoko’s shaking her head in disapproval and lappin’ even more fervently at the sweetness of your pussy. That tongue of hers…it was indescribable. “I should be kicking you out of my clinic.”

“No!” You gasp. “Anything but that-”

Yet another spank. Lingering, now. 

“What was that?”

You sob, “I-I’m not gonna lie again, Dr. Shoko.” 

“Good.” She grins, “Now for something to tamper that sexiness of yours.”

And as she’s hiding her smile between your legs- you’re exploding straight into your high. It’s like nothing you’ve ever encountered before—long and drawn-out, the peaks of your orgasm get even stronger every time she hits your favorite spot. Again and again.

Probe after probe.

Like the manicured tops of her fingertips were magnetized to your bundles of nerves.

Calculating between those peaks, she manages to increase the pressure on your pussy right when it hits the most. Dragging you back by her tail and purring as she nibbles on your clit.

“That’s right.” She mutters. “Cum all over the doctor’s face.”

You’re fully wrung out by the time she’s done with you- and Shoko’s ready to move away with a victorious smile. But before she can do so, you reach out and grab onto her white coat—

“And where do you think you’re going?”

You’re getting payback.

A/N. Oh I need to write for her more-

The entrance to Tokyo Jujutsu Elementary opened up to the main hallway; with classrooms upon either side, and doorways spaced between walls that were kaleidoscopes of crafts and schoolbag hooks and polaroids of students over the years. If Toji looked hard enough then he’d even be able to find the polaroid where Megumi was flipping the camera off—he’d learned that one from him, see.

That was an awkward parent-teacher meeting.

But that was also the day he properly met you - beyond just the polite nod and hasty small talk at drop-off and pick-up. 

With your adorable flowery apron on - courtesy of elementary school policy - and your lips trying very hard not to twitch up into a smile—very nicely telling Megumi that that wasn’t something good kids do.

Toji agreed then. He’d have agreed with anything you said.

“But you were the one that taught—”

He’d slapped his hand over Megumi’s mouth then.

You’d let a small laugh slip- and he was a goner. 

After that meeting, Megumi may have lost something (iPad privileges for a whole month), but Toji gained something: this little ember of attraction that he couldn’t shake off no matter how much he tried. Every routine pick-up and drop-off, every bake sale, every little notification that lit up his phone—you typing into the parents’ groupchat about some announcement or the other. And though it’d never be anything too personal, his heart always thundered in his chest as he clicked those notifications open. Is it weird that he set a different tone for your notifications?

The harder he tried to ignore it, the further it kindled.

Until he evidently couldn’t even walk inside that damn building without feeling some part of him melt just a little…

Even now, his skin burns as he watches you. 

Biting back a laugh as one of your students hugged their guardian goodbye- so hard that both adult and child topple over. And then you’re being grappled into the same embrace, which you’re letting yourself be tugged into—soon enough, three more of your students join in. One tucks a wildflower from the garden behind your ear.

Sunlight falls across your face as your head falls back in a laugh - and then you’re leaning forwards and grabbing all of those tiny bodies in a hug. 

Toji can’t help but wonder whether you’d like to be embraced just the same. Toji can’t help but wonder whether you’d laugh just like that when you’re picked up and spun around, feet never touching the ground. Toji can’t help but wonder why the hell Itadori Yuji was pointing and laughing at him.

“Mr. Fushiguro’s dad, your face looks funny—!” He squeals. Loud enough for multiple parents to turn and look.

Toji grumbles something underneath his breath and straightens, like the respectable adult - the respectable adult - he is. Cool. Calm. Collected. Mature. “Oh yeah? And your hair looks funny, kid.”

Now those same parents were turning to him and glaring. 

“What—?!” He gruffs out at them, hands raising in surrender. “He started it.”

Itadori turns to them and smiles an utterly precious, gap-toothed smile. 

He tells himself that he’s imagining the way they seem to be pulling their kids away from him.

Itadori stops laughing and ruffles his own coral-pink locks. The boy had strong-armed himself to become one of Megumi’s best friends since their first day; and he always has made himself known as the chatterbox of the group. The sweetheart. The trouble-stirrer (one of them, at least). “My grandpa says it’s um- jeanetic. My father had pink hair, too.”

Toji raises a brow, “Oh?”

“Yeah! Did you know my uncle’s in prison?” The boy looks squarely up at him and beams. “He sets things on fire.”

“Same, bud.”

“I eat dirt.”

“…what the fuck.” Toji whispers underneath his breath- though it must’ve been loud enough for the keenest of eavesdroppers to listen, because before he knows it, a little boy with a face mask and the most atrocious bowl cut Toji’s seen in his life—pulls out a notebook from his backpack and starts furiously scribbling something down.

Assumably the profanity he’d just spoken.

Inumaki Toge, was it?

Now he’s the one stepping away from these damn kids. 

But before he can get too far, Toji feels a tug on either arm—he looks to his right: Itadori. 

Attempting to climb up his forearms and biceps like monkey bars.

He looks to his left: Kugisaki.

Looking knowingly between you and him.

“These partners stink of-”

“What was that?” Kugisaki asks. 

“Nothing.” Toji quickly replies. And then there was the other one: Kugisaki Nobara was impossible to miss in a classroom. If not by her chattering that was just as loud as pink-haired Itadori’s, then by the red, rubber hammer that she seemed to be fond of, smashing it on top of people’s heads if they displeased her. He was just in the middle of wondering whether he could be successfully knocked out if she hit him hard enough when-

“Where…are you taking me?” He quickly narrows his eyes- just as soon as the little girl started pulling him by the hand. Towards your classroom. “Hey—”

“Oh, c’moooon.” She rolls her eyes in a manner that was far too expert for her age. “How is the male lead going to get the heroine if they don’t even talk?”

“I’m not the main character?”

Itadori - who had by now managed to perch atop his right shoulder like some parrot - whispers uncomfortably in his ear. “How’s the rizzler going to get the skibidi?”

Toji whirls to him- “Bless you?” The fuck…

Megumi follows and nods sagely. Deadpanning. “Dad’s not sigma enough for that.”

“Not you, too?!”

“Hi?”

The Earth had given way from underneath him. But in reality, it was just your voice breaking through the chaos of the elementary lobby—Itadori had begun gripping onto his shaggy, black bangs for balance now- and Toji was doing all he could to peak through the boy’s cutely chubby fingers.

A breath catching in his chest once he realizes that they’d walked him all the way over to you.

Apron on. Brows raised. A flower tucked prettily behind your ear. Standing right at the door to your vibrant classroom; you kept a hand on your mouth to stifle your obvious smile. Though nothing could hide the light in your eyes.

And before Toji’s given the opportunity to wax shitty poetics about it in his mind, you’re nodding at the boy latched onto Toji’s head. With a smile- “Down now, Yuji. What have I said about climbing people like monkey bars?”

He sighs and removes his hands covering Toji’s eyes, “To not climb people like monkey bars.”

“And what are you doing right now?”

“Climbing people like monkey bars.” 

“Down, please.”

Yes, ma’am…Toji’s thinking to himself. Snap out of it, man.

It was like a miracle. Itadori Yuji - for however much of a sweetheart he was - was never the type to listen to authority so directly—you could tell the kid to not eat glue and he’d chug down the whole bottle. Toji knows. From experience.

But it’s as easy as butter that he’s sliding off the older man now- and soon enough, his small red shoes are hitting the floor. And he’s staring up at Toji with his scarred mouth gaped open.

In fact, everyone was.

“Um, Fushiguro-san? Is everything okay?” Your brows then pinch in concern.

Kugisaki slaps her forehead, and Megumi seems to sink deeper into his bangs. As quickly as the words are registering in his head—he’s shutting his mouth and faintly puffing his broad chest out. Making sure that you see the way his beefy biceps flex as he scratches behind his neck. “Yeah- yeah, everything’s alright. How about you?”

“Can’t complain.” You giggle. And when there doesn’t seem to be a follow-up question, he flexes even harder. “I see uh…you’ve been hitting the gym lately, Fushiguro-san.”

“Oh, me?” He has the audacity to look a little shocked. “That’s cute, doll. But I don’t hit the gym.”

“You must take steroids then.” Itadori pipes up gleefully. “My uncle takes them, too-”

“I’m all natural—”

As this subsides, you’re taking control of the chaos like the professional you are. “Alright, oh- look at the time!” Sweeping a glance behind you at the classroom clock, “We’re almost late for attendance and rehearsal time. Let’s get inside, kids.” 

You start ushering some of them inside- and Toji squirms as those balls of energy rush past him. Evidently you were preoccupied with them, but you have enough time to look up at the older man and flash him a smile-

“And I’ll see you at pick-up then?”

Faintly, he nods. “Uh-huh.”

“Good.” You cock your head up at him, “Hope you have fun with the gym then~”

“U-uh-huh.”

He can only watch mutely as you whisk a few students inside and clap your hands to get their attention—some of the parents were filtering out and he knows he must look like such a creep…but you were just so astounding. And at least he hadn’t completely fucked up that interaction-

“Mr. Fushiguro’s dad, sorry for your aura loss.” Itadori pats him comfortingly on his side. There were still some students milling about with their goodbyes. 

He whirls, “Fushiguro Toji doesn’t lose aura-”

“But you did.” Kugisaki nods with her arms crossed. “You fumbled, Fushiguro-san.”

He turns to his beloved son for reassurance. 

Megumi looks at Toji blankly. “You never had aura to me, dad.”

“That’s it-”

“But it’s okay.” Kugisaki says, “The male lead never gets the heroine in the first five minutes. They have to suffer first. You just messed up Phase One.”

He almost feels sorry asking. “And…what is Phase One?”

“The rizz phase.” This time, it’s Itadori that answers. “You have zero rizz, Mr. Fushiguro’s dad. But—we have a plan.”

“A plan?”

Itadori holds up three fingers. “Four more phases before you win Ms. Teacher’s heart!” Not so loud…he’s grateful you haven’t noticed them yet. 

Megumi holds up the correct number of fingers. “Four more phases to embarrass yourself, dad.”

What moral support, son.

“I don’t know…” 

Itadori nods seriously, “Take it this way, Mr. Fushiguro’s dad- there’s a red button and a blue button in front of you. If you press the red button you die alone like my uncle probably will. If you press the blue button you totally rizz Ms. Teacher up and live happily-ever-after before she divorces you. Which button would you press?”

Neither?! His jaw drops. “What the fu-”

“We just want to matchmake you!” Kugisaki shoves Itadori aside. 

He eyes the kids warily. Leaving his love life to three elementary schoolers? Has Fushiguro Toji really fallen this far? Oh…he really is getting old. “Whatever. I don’t a shi- damn.”

And the answer is yes, yes he has.

But then Kugisaki clasps her hands together and beams, “Then in the end you’ll be just like Jinu and Rumi from K-pop Demon Hunters!”

And beside himself, Toji cracks a little smile. “Yeah…yeah, maybe we will.”

“You’ll die in the end and she’ll become a demon!”

“…let’s just stick to Phase Two.”

.

.

.

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI’S (and co.) FIVE-STEP PLAN TO MATCHMAKE HIS FATHER AND HIS TEACHER—PHASE TWO: SWEET TREATS!

Status: Pending…

Why did he agree to this shit again?

Though it wasn’t exactly Valentine’s Day; Fushiguro Toji was lugging a cart ‘round the candy aisles of Maruetsu supermarket, followed by three children with sticky fingers that just kept on piling even more sweets into the hefty chocolate-filled cart. And more. And more. And more-

And though Toji agrees that there was never a wrong day for chocolate - he was just damn relieved that yesterday had been pay day. These brats didn’t even glance at the price before throwing chocolate bars and heart-shaped candies over the cart rim.

Right alongside a bunch of flour, butter, and whatever shit one needed to make cookies. 

Because yes—Fushiguro Toji was apparently the type to make cookies now. 

Itadori tosses a bunch of Daddy Tony’s Chocolonely into the cart. “We’re totally chocolate-mogging everyone in the store right now.”

Why did he agree to this shit again?

It’d been their idea.

Tokyo Jujutsu Elementary’s annual talent show was nearing. The decorations were being made. The kids were rehearsing after-school. And Toji didn’t care too much about such things—the only reason this had stuck in his mind was because you’d sent a message about it in the group chat. And he’d read that little sentence over and over again until he memorized it. 

To raise funds for such an endeavour, the elementary was hosting a bake sale; where parents - should they choose to do so - could contribute their own baked goods and little treats and candies that could be sold. The year before, Toji had honestly just sent Megumi off with a bag of chips that Itadori had scoffed down in all of three seconds. 

Though, in his defense, it wasn’t mandatory and he didn’t know what the fuck a bake sale was supposed to be. 

Phase Two of the plan seemingly consisted of emptying out Toji’s pockets- the three of them had insisted that this bake sale was the perfect opportunity for Toji to make his move on you.

It was simple, really—bake cookies for the sale, sell them there, and when it came to you- woo you with a special heart-shaped cookie and ask you out. Simple! 

Was it obvious that this plan had been concocted by a bunch of nine-year-olds?

Toji sighs.

He glimpses Megumi wandering into the meat section and reaching for ¥50,000 Wagyu-

The next day, after burning the first few batches of cookies and setting fire to his kitchen only twice, Toji found himself crammed into a pretty pink-frilled booth at the official annual bake sale. Equally as pink apron cinched around his waist—and his t-shirt so tight that he catches a few single parents giving him appreciative looks.

Though he wasn’t paying attention to that. 

He was keeping his eyes on you- making your way from booth-to-booth, laughing along with parents and trying out everything your students had to offer. 

Toji lets out a long, lingering sigh.

He was never going to get over this damn crush—

Next to him, Megumi and his two best friends were the ones manning the counter and giving out cookies to paying customers. He hates to admit it, but business was booming. 

“Hey…hey, if I pay you in chocolates would you sell this shit again for me?”

Megumi looks up at him blankly. “I want 60% equity and ¥5 for every unit sold.”

Toji drops a cookie he was holding over the counter—“M-maybe not…”

“Hey, there’s Ms. Teacher!” Itadori squeals. 

And then…and then the most sweet, seraphic sound echoes in his ears- too close for it to be something he’d imagined, too removed from him to be anyone but you. You’re making the tall man freeze where he was leaned over the counter - and the hairs on the back of his neck rise…he’s pausing to listen for you before he knows it.

“Oh, let me get that for you.”

Toji hadn’t noticed you walk over. Toji hadn’t noticed you bending down to pick up the cookie he’d dropped. “O-oh, no you don’t need to—” Not before you’re straightening up and holding it out to him with a beautiful smile. 

“It’s no problem.” You chirp. 

Mutely, he takes the crumbling cookie from you.

He wanted that cookie badly.

“So…I see business is booming.” You nod down at the three little ones manning the counter, “Good job, sweethearts. How are you today?”

“Good.” Both Megumi and Kugisaki echo.

“My grandma got hit by a bazooka!” Itadori beams.

Your smile falters, though Toji’s impressed at how quickly you recover. “Well…that’s certainly a time, isn’t it, Yuji? And how are you, Fushiguro-san?”

“O-oh, me—?” His faze sizzles at being called out so suddenly. And the older man hurries to scratch behind his neck—did his biceps look good in this apron? “Ah…chill.”

“Chill, hm?” You smirk. Eyeing him, “I dunno- I’d say it’s a rather hot day today.”

Features scrunching up, Toji leans his head out and looks at the sky. “Is it? Those damn weathermen always lie.”

Megumi smacks his forehead. 

“No, I just meant…” You’re flitting your gaze at the paper-thin fabric of his t-shirt, wrapped around his chiselled limbs so perfectly. Gift-wrapped. And then you’re shaking your head, instead turning to the rows of cookies put on display. “Anyways- any recommendations you guys have for me?”

Toji furrows his brows at the abrupt change in conversation. Beside him, reaching just past his knee, Kugisaki kicks him in the shin and hisses- “The cookie! The cooooookie! Make a move, male lead!”

“Oh. Oh.” Toji startles. Bending down and whispering back, “Now?”

“Yes, now!”

“But-”

“Go.”

“Wait—”

“Go!”

Finally, he holds one calloused palm out at you. Bandaged and slightly aching from baking all day yesterday. “Stay here, we made something special for you.”

“Oh?”

Toji shuffles around in the box of cookies that they’d brought with them; packaged away and separated from the rest was one particular cookie—your favorite flavor, which he’d probed out of the kids. Specifically made in the shape of a heart.

His hands shake a little bit as he turns to you with it.

Scarred lips parting, “This is…”

“For me?” You cock your head with a sweet smile.

He nods. “Free of charge.”

“That’s too sweet, I couldn’t possibly-”

“Please—” Toji interrupts, fingers weak - barely holding onto the crinkled package - as he holds it out to you. “I insist. For taking care of my son.”

Something changes in your expression, and your fingers twitch closer to his.

The trio watches open-mouthed as your hands close the gap in mid-air before—

“Oooooooo, cookie! Fanum tax!” 

Before one Todo Aoi leans over the counter and snatches the cookie fast- before everyone could even blink, all of Toji’s emotions, hopes, pursuits, and dreams find themselves stuffed down the crumb-coated maw of the little boy. Chomped to bits.

Everyone looks at him in stunned silence.

He polishes off the cookie in three bites.

“What?” Todo asks as the silence stretches even longer- and he notices the stares around him. “Needs a little more salt…”

Toji feels like keeling over. “I am going to-”

“Here, Ms.” Megumi picks up one of those cute, floral-decorated cookie packets on the counter and pushes it into your hands. “Free of charge.”

“Thank you. I…” You look at Toji as though you’re about to say something more—but then a call of your name from across the school field catches your attention. Another teacher was waving you over for something- and with an apologetic smile, you’re bowing your way out of there.

Itadori whistles, “Wow, Mr. Fushiguro’s dad. Maybe if you hadn’t waited around bein’ a scaredy-cat then Ms. Teacher might’ve gotten the cookies before Todo.” 

Immediately Kugisaki gets down from the counter- grabs her rubber hammer, and slams it down on Todo’s head. 

Then before Toji can feel a rush of pride, she grabs two cookie packets and beckons him to crouch down to her height.

Once he does, she presses both packets to his cheeks and asks seriously. “And what are you?”

“A fuckin’ idiot cookie.” 

A small gasp.

From the other side of the counter, he hears furious scribbling as someone jots that particular word down—he doesn’t need to look to know that it’s that Inumaki Toge again. Nooooo—! It’d slipped out accidentally, he promises. Also on the other side of the counter was Todo Aoi who was now eyeing the other cookies enviously- Megumi frowns and starts pulling them away from him.

Itadori turns to Toji and shakes his head as though he’d been the adult in this situation. “It’s a shame, though. Phase Two has also failed - take the L, Mr. Fushiguro’s dad.” 

“L.” Kugisaki echoes.

“L.” Todo.

“L.” Somehow Toge.

Megumi nods. “Loser.”

And somehow that hurt the most—

He groans.

Todo huffs. “Can’t believe you just got framemogged by the TJE class monitor, old man.”

Toji whirls around with a glower. “Mugged? I’ve never gotten mugged by anybody-”

“But since you’re all just begging me—” Todo turns to the bemused others with his arms crossed importantly. “-I’ll teach you the true art of rizzing.”

.

.

.

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI’S (and co.) FIVE-STEP PLAN TO MATCHMAKE HIS FATHER AND HIS TEACHER—PHASE THREE: A DATE.

Status: -84834832849 aura.

A date.

Not one he’d asked you out on, of course. 

Spring had neared like a reawakening of the Earth; the breeze was warm. The Sun cascaded softly. The birds were twittering. And Fushiguro Toji was losing it—he had already had enough of making a fucking fool out of himself in front of you.

And now he was about to do it all over again.

Megumi’s elementary school was hosting a picnic with the kids in Ueno Park, in honor of the cherry blossoms beginning to open up. 

Parents were invited too, of course. 

And it was inevitable that you’d be there.

Now with that kid Todo - a student a year older than the trio, it seems he’d found himself attached to Itadori though Toji has no idea how that friendship started - onboard for the scheme, Toji was finding himself pulled around like a marionette. This ridiculous scheme to kinda-sorta try and make you fall in love with him…

That he was going along with.

So for the outing, the four had emphasized that Toji wasn’t to come unless he was looking his absolute best. They’d told him to burn that usual black t-shirt of his - no matter how many times he tried to insist that he had a wardrobe full of identical ones. He wanted Megumi to vouch for him, but the boy had lied.

That traitor. 

Thus on the Saturday morning it’d been planned; Toji spent a good few hours in front of the mirror.

Tugging back the sleeves on his white cotton sweater- he’d been told that people appreciate forearms more this way. Dousing himself in perfume. Putting on one of those face creams Kugisaki had recommended after asking her guardian. Attempting to tame his shaggy, black bangs. He made sure his biceps were looking good that day—and stuffed Megumi into his matching sweater as well n’ rushed off to Ueno Park.

He thought he looked pretty good, honestly.

Todo eyes him warily once he arrives, “…That’s the best you’ve got?”

“The hell’s wrong with it?”

“It’s just…not sigma-”

“Shut-”

A few parents turn to look at him.

“He started it—he—”

After certainly no small amount of bickering (and much apologizing from the woman that seemed to be Todo’s guardian), they managed to make it to the picnic area. Where a row of multi-colored checkered blankets were laid out across the green grass like some form of a quilt—Megumi wastes no time before waddling over to where Itadori and Kugisaki were seated with their families.

And before long, the three kids were tugging several blankets closer together and creating a larger one. 

As Toji sighs and stalks over to them—he’s suddenly stopped by Todo Aoi. Evidently having broken free from his guardian for far, far greater purposes; he holds his hand up and makes Toji freeze. “You have much to learn, don’t you, old man?”

“Haaah?” He balks down at the boy.

“True rizzlers don’t sit around playing teatime with kids—” He throws his arm behind at the other three, “-and my beloved brother, Yuji—” They were related?! “True rizzlers have to be tall and nonchalant even if they’re short and chalant.”

Toji eyes him warily. “…Okay? And what am I supposed to do?”

“Talk. To. Her.”

“How—”

“Go there-” Todo stabs a finger in your direction. But Toji didn’t need it to know where to look. 

He sweeps his eyes across the cherry blossom gardens- and his eyes seem to find you as they always do. Even in a garden of the world’s brightest and rarest flowers, you would be the most beautiful. 

“Brother eugh, you’re getting that sappy look on your face again- nonchalant. You have to be nonchalant!” Todo exclaims.

You were wearing a summer dress that fluttered around you in the soft breeze- and before he knows it, the little boy was pushing him towards where you were standing.

“W-wait—”

“Oh, has Phase Three started already?” Soon enough, Itadori’s voice is piping up right beside him. And he’s pushing Toji, too.

Then comes Kugisaki. “Ooooo they always have a cherry blossom episode! I love those.”

The dark-haired man looks to his son for help, and he pretends not to meet his eye.

Dammit.

“Fine—fine.” An unstoppable force meets an immovable object. Toji’s pushing back against their persisting guidance, and they just won’t have it. You’re going to notice him being made a fool again. “I’ll talk to her. Don’t rush me—I said don’t-”

“Why is it that every time there’s trouble, it’s got something to do with the five of you?” 

Too late.

With your hands on your hips, you’re walking over with a playful smile.

Though there was nothing playful about the way his heart thunders-

High-pitched giggles emanate from behind him, and he doesn’t have the time to compute before all three sets of small hands - and Megumi’s mildly disappointed stare - vanishes. The kids are running off, leaving the two of you alone, once you’ve properly walked up to them—leaving Fushiguro Toji to fend for himself and also…collapsing to the ground. Because of the lack of force from behind now, his ass hits the soft grass and you’re trying not to laugh from above.

Pretty hand reaching out, “Everything alright, Fushiguro-san?”

“Toji.” He somehow manages to blurt out, taking your hand and getting to his feet. “Call me Toji.”

“Of course.” And then you’re sharing your own first name. He repeats it like a spring breeze.

Then, like the fool he is, Toji stands around admirin’ you—long enough that the silence stretches a little awkwardly, and you’re starting to shuffle on your feet. He hears a chorus of small groans from somewhere behind him, and quickly amends- “Uhhh, do you like walks down cherry blossom paths?”

You’re raising a brow in faint amusement, “Yes?”

“Have you walked down cherry blossom paths?”

“Not this year.”

“Will you walk down cherry blossom paths?”

“Fushiguro Toji, are you asking me to walk together?” You bump his shoulder with yours, then loop a hand around arm - he felt like arm candy, but don’t save him—Toji was exactly where he wanted to be - and start walking between pink-shedding trees. “You should’ve just said so. Should we have invited Megumi as well?”

“Who’s Megumi?”

Your startled laugh echoes—and it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard.

The two of you loop around the pathway and then back again in companionable silence; though questions and confessions constantly bubbled up to Toji’s throat. Are you having fun? Is his body too warm? Can you hear his heart beating? Do you like the cherry blossoms? Do you know you’re far more beautiful than them?

Why do you glance at him with that knowing smile? 

What secrets do you hide?

Before he knows it, the two of you have reached the spot where you met once more. And four eager children wait for something to happen- for something to be said.

Toji knows he might not get another opportunity—so as soon as the cherry blossoms are tapering out to more of the green grass, he’s turning to you and stammering. “I-I have something to ask…”

“Yes?” You smile.

“And it might be strange-”

“Yes?”

“And weird-”

“Oh, yes?”

“And creepy- don’t be afraid to say no if it’s creepy.”

“Huh?”

“But…” He feels the question: would you wanna grab coffee sometime? claw at his throat. Toji knows you’re waiting, anticipating—and then a cherry blossom flutters down and lands on your crown—making you look far too angelic. “Would you…happen to know that Japan is turning footsteps into electricity.”

You balk. “Excuse me?”

Toji whispers to himself faintly. “U-using piezoelectric tiles…every step you take generates a small amount of energy. Millions of steps…together…”

“Okay, old man, let’s get you to bed.” Todo’s - Todo, of all people - is coming to his rescue. Ushering him away, whilst his son hopefully manages to cover for his father with a good excuse—

“I do not know that man.” Megumi tells you, then leaves.

You’re left shrugging. Ah…

As they’re walking back to their picnic area, Kugisaki murmurs. “This is the cherry blossom episode. Next is the episode where you get hit by a truck-” Toji really hopes it is. “Guess this’ll be that sort of unfinished love drama…”

“My uncle loves hitting people with trucks.” Itadori beams. 

Megumi smacks his forehead once more-

Toji narrows his eyes. “You’re gonna give yourself a concussion if you keep doing that.”

The boy smacks his head even harder. “I hope so.”

Toji mutters to himself. “Fuckin’ me too.”

Behind him, he already knows that Inumaki is jotting this somewhere in some bushes. 

As the picnic continues—more and more of Megumi’s friends join their combined blankets. Toji notices you fluttering about, too.

So caught up, in fact, that he doesn’t even notice four matchmaking masterminds roping in their schoolmate Yuta into a deep conversation.

Toji sneezes- someone must be talking about him.

.

.

.

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI’S (and co.) FIVE-STEP PLAN TO MATCHMAKE HIS FATHER AND HIS TEACHER—PHASE FOUR: THE MARRIAGE.

Status: Toji, you’re scaring the huzzzzz-

It seems that Fushiguro Toji was getting married.

Though not exactly of his own volition.

And to whom, exactly? Well, that would be none other than you—

The wedding shall be held in the idyllic venue of Tokyo Jujutsu Elementary’s sprawling playground; amongst the swings and pieces of chewed-up bubble gum stuck underneath slides. Music shall be provided by the choir team. Snacks are Goldfish crackers and nothing more—you won’t want to miss it. 

Don’t bother to RSVP.

Invitations are open to no one, he’s bound to make a fool of himself.

Again.

Toji should’ve known that something was up the second Megumi told him to come for pick-up a little earlier than usual. Elementary classes ended their day with around fifteen minutes of playtime, before official pick-up commenced.

And though Toji didn’t mind coming in earlier - he usually staved his entrance off for the allocated time so Megumi didn’t have to play with his dear ol’ dad looming over his shoulder.

Something had to be wrong- maybe he was sick? And yet…Megumi was the type to never let out even a peep even if he was—he’d have to be dragged out of class and still try to convince Toji that he was feeling well enough to go back. He’d never leave hints like that.

Maybe he didn’t like playtime anymore? That certainly couldn’t be it- playtime always exhilarated Megumi, no matter how much his deadpan son attempted to hide it. He loved his friends. He loved the small rabbit pen that the school had. He especially loved the twin black-and-white wolf spring riders on the playground.

Or maybe…maybe he was getting bullied-

Toji shakes his head clear of that thought immediately.

He’d no sooner be bullied by his son than have his son be bullied-

In fact, before he’d met Itadori and Kugisaki- Megumi loved the playground for…very…different reasons. He’d pile his ‘opponents’ high like a small kid mountain. 

Toji shudders. 

So what could it be—?

That’s exactly the thought tumbling ‘round in his mind as he walks up to that multi-colored painted building. Instead of going up those steps, however, he’s rounding the corner towards the playground on the other side - where he could hear cheers, laughter, and shrieks. Those youngsters touched the air around them with happiness, and it made some part of Toji’s chest soar to think that his son was one of them.

That’s until he’s actually in-view of the playground and spotting you. Right in the middle of the chaos of elementary classes in playtime. 

At the foot of the slides.

A bundle of weeds in your hands

A paper veil atop your head.

With that kid Yuta from the grade above Megumi’s stood solemnly beside you. An officiant. 

It looked like…a wedding.

And the space in front of you was empty for your partner.

Ah.

He looks at Megumi who was avoiding his eyes- so this was the plan…

Fuck.

He must have made a noise of bafflement- because just then you’re turning and letting a smile splash across your face. You exclaim. “Ahhh—there’s my groom!”

Oh…oh, he might faint.

Toji feels numb to the small hands that tug on his arm- “C’mon, c’mon! You’re late, Mr. Fushiguro’s dad—!” And he’s being dragged all the way to the front of the slide, where his bride-to-be was awaiting him, it seems…“After this we need time for the divorce-”

“No, the divorce should happen like four episodes later.” Kugisaki rolls her eyes.

“There shall be no divorce.” The seven-year-old Yuta speaks above them - out of them all, he seemed to be taking his role the most seriously. And he beckons the happy couple closer to one another—fuck, Toji couldn’t even meet your eyes.

Standing in front of you, he stuffs his hands into his pocket and keeps his eyes trained on the ground- giving you a brief nod. “‘Sup?”

“On second thought, there may be a divorce.” Yuta solemnly declares.

“Hey-” Toji sends a glare at the black-haired little boy with the wide eyes, then crosses his beefy arms. “So are we gettin’ married or not? Chop chop.”

You shake your head fondly, “Don’t worry- we cut into rehearsal time for this, it seems.”

“Start the music…” Kugisaki whispers to Megumi…simply standing on the sidelines and sinking deeper into his bangs with every passing second. “The music—!”

Megumi lets out a sigh beyond his years, and clicks on the classroom speaker they must’ve brought from inside. 

In mere seconds, Stateside by PinkPantheress with Zara Larsson starts flooding the playground. Kugisaki hums to herself with a smile- “PinkPantheress n’ Zara always makes things better.”

Soon enough Yuta’s reading out of a scribbled notebook in his hands, “We’re here today to um- something about marriage.” He looks between the two of you—“Hold hands, please. They always do that in the movies.”

The two of you share a look.

And then you do.

Your fingers are warm n’ perfectly fitted in his - he doesn’t have to think to curl his own fingertips around yours. It’s as if his hands were made for holding yours—the thought zips through his body and he wonders why the hell he was getting emotional as though this was a real wedding…

Yuta continues, “-ummm, something about love.” Toji almost jolts. “Something about caring. Something about taking care of each other when you’re not feeling too good- like my momma always does, heh. She makes this chicken soup that-”

“Get on with it—!” Kugisaki hisses.

“Wait- what sort of chicken soup?!” Itadori pleads.

“That’s my rizzler! Toji bro—!” Todo cries.

“Oh, yeah—” He looks back down at his useless notes. “And stay together forever and ever and ever for at least 67 years no matter how far apart you are, or how scared of your feelings.” Yuta looks at Toji pointedly- who did this kid think he was?! “Does the happy couple have any vows?”

And maybe this was it.

Maybe this was his moment.

Maybe this was…

Toji’s scarred lips open. “I-”

Suddenly the speaker playing music explodes—not literally, though for a moment there it did feel like it. The dance-pop song that’d been playing inexplicably heightens in volume until their ears rung- and Megumi hastens to turn it down. 

Kugisaki smacks the speakers with her rubber hammer a few times before it stops. Then with nothing to play in the background, she elbows the pink-haired boy in his side—“Yuji, hit it!”

“Me?!” Itadori yelps, before noticing everyone’s gaze upon him. It’s slowly dawning upon Toji that this might not be the best place for a real confession when Itadori suddenly starts doing some confusing two-step. “You gotta go and I can’t…ehh, sorry. Uhhhh…Nepal. I just don’t want to say that-”

“Please.” Megumi drones. “Please stop.”

He stops.

Mutely, Kugisaki smacks the speaker once more and Stateside blares again.

Toji turns to the officiant- and shakes his head.

Yuta looks at you, “And what about you, Ms?”

“Oh—my vow is that you’re all getting extra homework if eeeeevery single one of you doesn’t dance to the reception tomorrow.” You look at each and everyone.

Small faces scrunched in glee.

Yuta hisses at Itadori. “Time for the rings—the rings!” And the pink-haired boy startles to hand them to him- just a single one plopped onto Toji’s open palm. It was one of those cheap ring pops; still slightly sticky and encrusted with flecks of strawberry candy from before. The actual candy part of it had been very-obviously eaten…

“Sorry.” Itadori still smiles. “I ate it.”

“And the…other ring?”

“I ate that, too.” He excitedly claims, “Plastic and all!”

“I…love whatever’s wrong with you.” Toji furrows his brows. “But also what.”

“Enough talk—exchange the rings then vow your undying love!” Kugisaki yells. “Then die!” She turns to some of the other kids looking at her strange- “What? I don’t mean it like that—the drama’s just better when they die. Where are you going- where are you-”

“Scary kid.” Toji comments. “But sweet. But scary.” 

Megumi distances himself from everything.

Before long, Yuta’s announcing that they ‘exchange’ rings. 

You mime putting one on him.

From the sidelines, Todo sobs into Itadori’s t-shirt—seriously, were they actually related or not?! “Marriagemaxxing already…I’m so p-proud of you my rizzler…my brother in rizz…my sidekick…”

He jerks. “Side—”

Yuta speaks. “And do you, Ms. Teacher—take this auraless man to be your husband?” He can already tell who came up with this officiant’s script- but before he can throw a glance at the trio and Todo, you’re nodding.

“I do.”

Toji feels his heart flutter. He grows warm.

And his fingers are just as tender and sweet as they slip that ring pop onto your left hand—“Then I announce you married- uh. Smooch?”

“Euuuuuuuugh! Gross-” Megumi wails.

If Toji thought that he’d been warm earlier—then he wasn’t prepared for right now. It feels as though his entire body was on fire from the inside; every vein, every cell, every single part of him that hummed with delight at the notion. That made him blush.

So embarrassingly, as though this was his first-ever crush.

Toji catches your eye- and you give him the briefest of nods. 

And then he’s leaning in…he’s hearing your breath catch- and pressing his lips to the back of your hand - just the lightest of grazes, where the ring pop stood out - before pulling back just as quickly. Nothing indecent. Nothing that would give away anything to you—

That ring…

It tasted sweet on his lips.

The surrounding kids cheer- loudly. Now it seems that everyone in the playground had joined in on this little act—and that’s exactly what it was.

Just a little act.

Toji’s lips quiver with the beginnings of a sentence he’s been aching to say for so long-

And then the school bell rings denoting time for pick-up.

Around you, the kids run to their classrooms and their backpacks - excited to tell their parents about what they’d just done in the playground. And as the sea of small bodies moves and thrashes against the two of you…Toji just remains standing. Staring. 

Something within him still unfinished and unsatisfied—

You’re keeping his gaze for a few more seconds, before finally dropping it and unscrewing the plastic ring from your finger. “I uh…sorry about that- and thank you for playing along.”

“Yeah…” He faintly says. “Yeah, no problem.”

You give him a tight-lipped smile. “And if you don’t mind, I should probably…”

You gesture to the parents that had started walking in now, and he jerkily nods. “Yeah- yeah, go do…that.”

“Yeah, I…” You’re then holding your hand out to him- nodding at him to keep his palm open. Then dropping the strawberry-scented ring pop into his hand. “Guess the divorce came a little sooner than expected, huh?”

“Two seconds, that’s a new record.” 

Starting to walk back—you briefly wave. If he was a cockier man, he’d have called you nervous. “I’ll see you at the talent show, ex-husband.”

“Hopefully sooner, ex-wife.”

“Oh- yes, the upcoming parent-teacher meetings.”

“That…” Toji murmurs to himself. That too, he supposes. 

And as he watches you leave…Kugisaki is the first to speak up. “Not even a date? Awww man, I hate slowburns.”

He gapes, “I uh…”

“No, he got scared of his feelings—” Itadori adds. Toji squirms. “Did you know my uncle says he doesn’t have feelings? My grandpa agrees.”

“Dad.” Megumi pulls on Toji’s t-shirt to get his attention. 

“Yes, son?”

And so deadpan, so unexpected- “You fumbled just like Klay Thompson.”

Dammit, son.

Speedwalking to the school with them. “The fuck just happened?”

That one he mouths- he mouths. But Inumaki writes that one down fast-

.

.

.

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI’S (and co.) FIVE-STEP PLAN TO MATCHMAKE HIS FATHER AND HIS TEACHER—PHASE? CURRENTLY ON HOLD…

Reason: Parent-teacher meetings.

Status: Dire. Auraless. Megumi doesn’t claim him.

Will the plan have to be abandoned?!

“So.”

“So…” You’re twiddling your thumbs together on top of the desk, eyes trained on Toji whilst his own dart around the colorful classroom. “Megumi’s such a good kid- honestly there’s nothing more to say about him.”

Because today was the day of parent-teacher meetings; that half-an-hour where parents sit before you and leaf through crayon drawings and mathematics that made them cringe. Toji himself hadn’t been the biggest fan of them when Megumi was younger—why the fuck would kindergarteners need parent-teacher meetings?!

But now that his teacher was you…

At least it gave him something even more to look forward to.

So he sets his elbows on your desk and leans in—every meeting had been conducted sitting on opposite sides of your teachers’ desk. It was far too much proximity for his poor heart to take—but you sure as hell won’t hear him complaining.

Not a single peep.

He glides his roughened fingertips over the pages before him- Megumi was never the type to be cagey about his grades. And either way he did get everything above an 80%. 

Toji tries not to let the tips of his lips twitch upwards into a smile—especially as he looked over one of the artworks that Megumi had done: a slightly-smudged drawing of three small figures, one with pink hair, another with a brown bob-cut, and then a portrait of himself. 

And then two larger figures on either side of them

Toji and yourself.

The prompt had been Megumi’s family…

“You should be very proud, y’know.” Your gentle voice breaks through the quiet air in the classroom. 

Toji had come slightly after the other parents, as organizing Megumi’s little sleepover at the Itadori household (with Kugisaki and Todo in tow) had been absolute chaos. Today they’d offered to take the children in because apparently Itadori had gotten some earthworm movies he’d wanted to share. And though Megumi didn’t seem particularly excited at the prospect of earthworms, he’d been begging for weeks to have this sleepover. 

Now. The sunlight dipped beneath the horizon outside, casting the classroom into its warm embrace—like kindling fire. The light bounced off your features and touched his lips, too. Where things were perpetually encased in day and the hours were hot and lazy—like the leaping spark from a fireplace. 

For the first time in a long time, Toji lets himself smile. “Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

You’re nodding with a smile- “He speaks about you a lot, did you know that?” Once Toji shakes his head, you’re continuing. “About how strong you are, about how you’re funny—” Your nose crinkles, “-but an awful cook.”

“Hey!” Toji squawks, indignified. “I try.”

“I know.” Something about that felt so knowing. “It really is a pleasure having Megumi in my class- he’s quiet but I think Yuji and Nobara are slowly bringing him out of his shell. He’s diligent. He’s quietly kind. He’s a sensitive kid, he notices things faster than most.”

“I’m sure he gets that from me.” He smirks.

You hum, staring at the blood-orange sky outside. There’s a long pause before you speak again—“And I think it’s sweet how he’s trying with his friends to set the two of us up.”

Toji’s jaw drops.

Actually drops.

For a moment he’s speechles—hell, he thinks he might be speechless till the end of time. Sure, he’d guessed that you must’ve noticed something being off…but he never thought you’d actually realize the two of you are being set up—!

You catch the look in his eyes- “Oh, c’mon. You didn’t think I wouldn’t notice, did you?”

“I uh…”

“The cookies. The wingmanning. The wedding. The plans-” Stifling a laugh. “Elementary schoolers aren’t very good at whispering, you know that?”

“Damn.” Toji fists his hands, softly thumping them against the table. “And here I thought a bunch of elementary schoolers could fix my love life…”

You hum—something coy in your tone. “Why don’t you fix it yourself?”

And Toji’s snapping his head up so fast that he thinks he might’ve caught whiplash-

“Would you…” He swallows. He starts off unsurely. “…maybe…like to get coffee sometime-”

“Yes.”

Barely waiting till the sentence flies off his tongue before you respond- it makes Toji wonder whether you’ve been waiting for this as long as he has. 

Embarrassment shows in your slightly-frantic movements, as you start picking at the stationary on your desk and smoothing out your clothes. Nervous. It hits him. “I uh…you’re my last meeting of the day, actually. I’m free to grab some coffee now, if you want?”

He’s never agreed to anything faster in his life.

Less than twenty minutes later and the two of you have found yourselves in the cute new coffee shop down the road. The faintest memory of sugary goods still etched on your smiling lips, and your cups of drinks warming your hands—the two of you were sitting and talking at a window booth when the rain had started.

“Oh, shit…” You peer outside. “You were right.”

“Hm?” Toji takes a sip of his black coffee.

“The weathermen always lie.”

More than the panging warmth at the idea that you’d remembered a throwaway comment he’d said- was what you’d followed that sentence up with.

“Hey, I know this is out-of-the-blue, but…I don’t have an umbrella with me, and taxis are costly this time of evening.” You shift in your seat, avoiding his eyes for perhaps the first time since he’s met you—“My apartment’s close by if you’d wanna maybe grab an umbrella from there? You could even hang around until the rain subsides, if you want…”

This time, it’s his turn to reply embarrassingly fast. “Fuck yeah.”

And so you’d ran.

You’d ran hot on each other’s heels as though someone was chasing you—maybe fear, maybe your inhibitions, maybe the feeling that Fushiguro Toji wanted to kiss you so badly.

So bad. 

You’re sploshin’ the five-minute walk it takes to reach your apartment- before you’re both darting inside and closing the door to the world. Just the two of you. On opposite sides of the narrow vestibule connecting the entrance to the living room. To your bedroom.

Toji presses himself against the cream-colored wall and breathes in. heavy.

This entire place carried your sweet, sweet scent—and it was driving him crazy. 

In front of him, your hands seemed to absent-mindedly reach for the umbrella holder- blindly clasping around one polished handle. “I uh…”

“You-”

You’re both attempting to speak at the same time—then abruptly stop when the other speaks. You gesture for him to continue, and he does the same for you-

“I just meant- here’s your umbrella.”

“Thanks.” Like a zombie, he’s reaching out and clasping it. 

This was it—this was really it.

He was about to leave.

He was about to wake up from this dream.

Before Toji’s letting the umbrella drop to the floor- and you’re both crashing into one another. It’s built and built—and the coil of tension had tightened and tightened before finally snapping—!

Lips against lips.

Tongues against teeth.

His lips sliding against yours and positively ravishing you—one of his large hands finds purchase on the back of your head. His warm touch. Toji feels the pretty pulse on your neck quicken as he tips your head back and delves his tongue even deeper - memorizing the taste of you to every crevice in his brain. 

Your essence…he wants it imbued into him.

Absolutely starving.

He just couldn’t get enough of you.

He just couldn’t get enough of you.

The two of you are making out sloppily- and the sounds of lips lifting from lips permeates your entire apartment. Punctuated occasionally by the hollow grunts that Toji himself was letting off. 

Your cunt twitches between your legs - and you’re pressing yourself into Toji even further. Pushing against his toned body. Rolling your hips against the raging, hot erection that’d found itself home in his pants. Just the sheer size of it- the thickness, the way it throbbed against you was enough to make you let out a soft, simpering nose.

One that he’s gladly swallowing up whole—greedily, even. Because that’s exactly what he was.

A fucking greedy man for everything that’s to do with you.

And he’s waited for far too long.

In no time, you’re taking him by his larger hand and pulling him to your bedroom. Leaving the umbrella and your reservations behind. 

Toji lets out a hallowed groan as he’s being pushed back into the bed- the backs of his knees hitting the mahogany bed frame. Your hands flying to the ties of his trousers. Your own knees striking the floor—

“Easy there…” Toji brushes one hand down the side of your face- reaching back into your scalp and tightening. “Don’t want my girl to get hurt.”

“Your girl?” You grin. “You haven’t even asked me out on a proper date yet.”

“And you should be buyin’ me dinner before this. Lecher.”

You’re huffing as you’re able to tear that wretched fabric off his muscular legs- finally. And your jaw…drops…

He was so…

Fucking big. 

From the moment his achin’ cock’s freed, Toji springs out and seems to pulse even thicker—the start of his base reminding you of one of those soda cans. Toji reaches down to wrap his other hand ‘round it, his palm covering some of the dark curls decorating his pelvis, and he seems to look even bigger when framed like this.

Rock-hard. Covered in numerous veins.

They were dappled all across his inches and throb-throb-throbbing- so ravenously hard that Toji’s length twitched the moment he’s feelin’ the cold bedroom air. 

And not only was he big, but that curve of his shaft was delicious.

It made you wonder what it’d feel like to have him curve up inside…

Upwards tilted. That crown of his craning up at the ceiling. The pointed end of his cock ended off with his blushin’ mushroom tip- so fat n’ already soaked in his wads of sopping precum. The color of it was the prettiest tannish pink you’ve ever seen in your entire life—and so you really couldn’t help but lean down and press a chaste peck-

The taste of his salted-caramel pre takes over your tastebuds immediately.

“O-oh…” Toji’s head throws backwards with a gravelly groan. “Don’t go teasing me now, doll.”

“You’re the one that’s been teasing me this entire time.” You counter. Though you’re loosenin’ your jaw and taking him in even further. Inch by solid fucking inch.

It’s hard to stuff Toji’s cock all down your throat like you so-badly wanted- he was big. N’ those zig-zagging veins down his length made you want to linger…massaging the roof of your mouth with a few semi-gulps that rub his inches on top. Again and again.

You’re shuttering your eyes and moaning deep into his shaft at the carnal scratch he somehow seemed to soothe.

“Ah ah—” You’re hearing him before you’re feeling him- suddenly, two thick fingertips are pinching your poor nostrils together. Eyelids flapping open to stare up at him.

Toji has the most cocky smile across his beautiful scarred lips as he peers down at you. “Now what’s this about refusin’ to take me anymore?” He asks you, punctuating the that of his sentence with a thorough nudge of his bulbous tip down your throat. “You don’t wanna take me any further, doll? Or you…”

And another.

Though, this time, it wasn’t a nudge at all.

And Toji’s massive length is pushing apart the wet walls of your throat- and mazing his throbbing cock inside. The noises you’re letting out when you slurp him up are so pretty—

And the older man uses his second hand to wipe a stray tear off your cheeks, “-can’t?”

“Mmm–mmmfg.” Choking down both your needy sobs n’ your breaths. You’re clawing at his thicks- so thick and toned. 

“What? Whaaaat?” He pinches your nose even harder. “Wha’s the matter, teach?”

“You-” Barely able to mangle out some semblance of coherent syllables - you’re going cross-eyed trying to both take him in deeper, and look at the fingers blocking off your airway. “Mmm- ngh.” Whatever mess of a sentence that was meant to be, it’s coming out embarrassingly jumbled.

Embarrassingly so.

And tears are just starting to stream down your cheeks- your cunt’s getting even wetter at his actions and pushing against his toned calf- once he finally lets go. Finally. 

With a loud pwah! you’re removin’ your swollen lips off of his cock. Feeling for your poor nose that’s startin’ to sting—“So mean, Toji. I should’ve bit that dick off.” You joke.

He looks at you with a leer, “We both know that out of the two of us, you’d be the most disappointed with that.” And it was true- it really was true. But Toji takes it a step further by lazily reaching his calf over and pushing it against your cunt. Dripping wet even through those panties of yours- your pretty dress was hiked up n’ already exposing that sweet puddle that’d formed in the middle of your underwear. 

His mouth waters at the sight. 

“See what I mean?” Then Toji straightens up and pats the top of his manspread thighs. An invitation. 

“But, I haven’t even…”

“S’okay.” He nods at you reassuringly. You didn’t have to worry about any of that needing to please shit with him- he’d be the one driving you wild tonight. “I have something even- heh, sweeter in mind.”

And hopefully every night after that.

In a mere few moments, you’re settling yourself on Toji’s lap. And then he’s attacking your mouth in a mind-numbing kiss, tongue swipin’ between your lips before ultimately sucking on those tastebuds of yours. Sucking. Like candy. 

He then maneuvers the two of you to then drape you across the sheets; slightly sodden with lust and perspiration. The blankets stick against your clammy skin as Toji presses your hips down on the mattress- “Down, girl.” His fingertips dig into the side of your waist.

“What’s that about not teasing?” You pant.

With a low chuckle, Toji presses a peck on the left side of your hips—then creeps himself down until his handsome features were huffin’ and puffin’ against your sodden cunt. His own hot breath seemed to reach out to you—curling, cloooouding, it seemed to stroke down that watery slit of yours. “Fushiguro Toji never teases.”

“You’re teasing right-”

“M’just waiting for the perfect moment.” And there’s not a second wasted- before Toji lurches himself nose-deep between your legs and gives your dripping pussy a good lick!

“O-oh…” Your mouth waters at the brazen touch- body jolting just a little. Though if you thought that Toji would let you so much as squirm whilst he’s locked between those thighs of yours, then you’d be sorely mistaken. His fingers dip down the expanse of your legs and clutches you close against his ravenous maw—“Aren’t you going to take off my panties, Toji?”

“Don’t be vulgar, doll.” He mutters- just to tease you. “M’gonna eat you through your panties, of course.”

And it’s the only warning you’re getting.

Before Toji latches his puckered lips to your cunt- properly, this time. And his loooooong tongue was lavishin’ across every inch of your pussy he can reach. Through your panties—Toji gapes his mouth open and laps like a fuckin’ animal at the leaking slit your underwear was stick to, your swollen folds, your utterly needy button. 

“Mmmmpf-” Toji’s prominent nose pushes apart your pussylips, and he’s feelin’ for that puckered, pretty nub. Already throbbing like you’ve been so impatient for him this entire time.

He presses himself closely against your clit for a few seconds—throb-throb-throb!

Like a ticking time bomb. He’s driving himself absolutely wild; before snakin’ your panties to the side and thrashing his tongue against your raw cunt. Slurping. Sucking. Everything and anything of you he could find - he’s pushing himself so nose-deep into your pussy that he damn-near can’t breathe—and eating you out like an animal. “Mmmm, don’t you move a s-single inch now.” Toji tightens his hold on your quivering legs. “I haven’t even started yet.”

“Started what…?” You babble out - your hips were yearning to push off the creaking mattress.

Though all it took was a fraction of his strength to pin you back down, roverin’ his tongue on the slick-glued insides of your folds. Rooooound and round in circles that left your mind dizzy. “Heh- what else d’you think?” Toji answers. “M’teaching this pussy how to take Fushiguro Toji, that mouth of yours barely could.” 

“Rude.”

Before you could pipe up anything more witty, he’s spankin’ four fingertips down on your glistening pussy. “S’not rude if it’s true.”

“I’m the teacher here, though.”

“Then maybe I’m the principal.” He leers- swabbing the fat edge of his tongue into your hole. “Gonna grade you and everything…”

“That’s fuckin’ corny—”

“Made your pussy weep, though.”

And just in good time, too- because almost immediately he’s letting that first inch of his tongue fuck inside your cunt. Just the first inch. But it was already enough to make your toes curl n’ your back arch—Toji’s wet muscle was just so thiiiiiiick.

He’s pluggin’ up your orifices with a mere few thrusts - the ridged texture of his tastebuds kneading your tight walls. Shovelling you open. Shovelling himself deeper inside. The flickerin’ tip of his tongue laps against some of your most tender areas n’ then pushes up into the sensitive roof of your cunt- 

“Sh-shiiiiit—” You’re keening out in the prettiest trill he’s ever heard. Toji has the audacity to let out a wet giggle at your dripping core - clenching ‘round him.

His ears burn at the musical note- and before long, your folds are burning at the searing smack! that he’s planting on top of your cunt. Your head drops down to stare at him in shock.

“That’s a C- for handling yourself.” He echoes. Two more spanks follow—before Toji nuzzles your gummy pussy n’ laps his tongue across your clit. “But an A for pretty moans.”

“I th-think that grading syllabus is a little- ngh! skewed, don’t you think?”

Yet another spank.

“Not at all.”

He was merciless. Ruthless. 

Absolutely impounding you with those slashing, scouring strokes of his - Toji’s thrusts manage to reach so much deeper than you’d have ever guessed. And when he felt that his tongue was stuffed inside your pretty pussy far ‘nough, he’s flaring those edges outwards and scraping his tastebuds down the sides of your walls. Stimulating your snug channel sooooo fuckin’ good—

“S’that so?” Toji flutters his long, dark lashes up at you. It takes a second for you to register that you might just have said that last thought out loud. 

Though you’re merely steeling your expression and nodding-

He’s plasterin’ his fingertips against your puckered pussy with a chuckle. “Cute. But flattery’s gonna get you nowhere- with all this damn squirming you’re doing, your C’s dropping down to a- haaaah, D.”

Your eyes pop open. “B-but…”

“And just think-” Toji continues without a single speck of mercy for you. His tongue’s tunneling and thrusting- faster than your frenzied mind can keep up with. “-that if you’re reacting like this to just my long tongue…” Thrust after thrust after thrust—the curvaceous inches of his tongue don’t leave a single bundle of nerve unprobed. Zig-zagging and swabbing wildly - your eyes are rolling to the back of your head. “-yer gonna fucking run away when it comes to my cock, doll.”

“Oh—” You’re tumbling your hips constantly up to him. Attempting to heighten the friction. “Promise I won’t. Promise-”

“And now look at you.” And after all he’s taught you…Toji grasps his left hand underneath your arching body. Grabbing a nice handful of your ass cheeks- it makes him smile to watch your mouth drop in shock at the lecherous action. “Dropped down to a D-.”

A fucking minus.

That earns you several more wet spanks. And then a fucking pinch—right on your clit. 

And Toji merely trundles, “Where the fuck does this pretty pussy think she’s going?”

Crashing his lips into…yours. Quiverin’ your weakened limbs around the back of his neck- 

Your ankles are weakly latching themselves there- slightly glissading down his glossy strands. It messes up his hair just a little, and Toji’s soon finding himself smirking against those pussylips.

“Tch…fine, you get a B for neediness.”

Only a B?!

But perhaps it was better that you’d kept your mouth shut - mostly because you couldn’t speak over the primal moans that kept escaping your throat - because then Toji’s sinking his canines ‘round your clit and swervin’ his face aaaaaaall around your pussy. Every corner and inch.

He’s fucking coating his features in a layer of your shimmering slick.

Like a damn medallion.

It clings to him in long, ropey excess. 

“O-oh my god—” And then your trilling vocals break the very second that he’s intruding your hole once more- this time, with his fingers…

You weave your own hands into Toji’s sweat-dampened hair and hold on for dear life. 

“Hmmm, a little possessive, huh? M’bumping that neediness to a- hah, A+...heh.”  As a reward, you’re getting his textured lips encasing your sopping clit—just so desperate and damn-near flinching with how hard you were pulsing between your legs. Needing. Needing. 

Your breath comes out in stuttered bursts, and it takes everything in you to echo. “A-and what do I have to reach to- mm, get your cock, Toji?”

“I dunno, aren’t you the one with a t-teaching degree?” He’s babbling- before that haziness in his eyes clear up once he realizes what he’s just said. “No, wait—I’m pretending to be…I’m the one gradin’ now…”

Toji looks down at your pussy as though offended. A spank wasn’t enough, he’s properly spitting. 

“This pussy’s made me pussydrunk, heeeeh?” He scoffs n’ edges in to suckle on your clit—all while his two bulky fingers were scissoring between your pussylips. “An A+ for that…”

Pussydrunk.

Though you’re not doing too well yourself.

You’re just sizzling from the very insides - even your very vessels seemed to be vibrating with that carnal sort of needy for him. And as Toji’s slashing strikes with his fingers accelerate, so does that kindling pit of pleasure in your stomach. “I th-think m’close, Toji…”

“Close?” Toji’s breath hitches. “Close? And we haven’t even finished the grading yet—buck up, doll, because m’not holding back anymore.”

“Th-that was you holding back?!”

Evidently so. 

And you can surely attest to that—in mere moments, he’s adding in a third finger with a lecherous slurp! of his honed inches bein’ all sucked in. Down every single joint. Down to his damn knuckles; you’re feeling those mountainous ridges push up against your sensitive pussy, and Toji’s three fingers were rovering and reeeeeaching every single spot inside. 

Claiming them as his. 

Toji laps up a silken line of slick that’d dripped from your cunt and down his wrist—you were claiming him as yours, too…“Got a second to hear your grades, doll?” Whilst the desperate pleads start to bubble at your throat- “Won’t be given’ you this cock until you do…”

“Then tell them to me—” You shriek. Haaaauling at the thick tufts of his scalp, “Fucking tell them, Toji.”

“Well, manners fuckin’ F.” Toji huffs- but he couldn’t fool you. Ohhh, the expression on his face was pure ecstasy as you guided his lapping face around your cunt. “But manners for this pussy…hmmmm…B.”

“Only a fucking B-”

“Roughness: used to be C- but oh, m’thinking it’s now an A.” He comments - the more and more frustrated you become, the more your carnal urges surface. Your grip is searing on his scalp. Your legs are locking around his neck. “Doesn’t mean you can go easier on me now, teach.”

“Fuh-fuuuuck, Toji—”

“Wetness: A+ of course.” Rolling his eyes as if that should be obvious, “Sweetness: A++.”

“Fuck-”

“That mouth of yours? D.”

“Fuck you.”

“M’trying to. And hmmmm, about the way she clenches…” He ponders- before then directly diverting his round, rotund fingertips to the spot just a few inches into your channel. He’s already mapped your smallest ridges n’ crevices out by all of these thrusts- and you’re feeling pure white-hot pleasure run down your spine as Toji then rams his dexterous fingers into your fucking g-spot. “That’s an A+++”

Because of course, you’re keeping him hostage.

Of course, you’re squeezing your velvety walls around him until his joints were turning white—and Toji’s fingers were havin’ a tough time moving back and forth stuffed between those clingy walls of yours. 

And yet…he’s scissoring apart your needy grip and rammin’ into your deepest, most sensitive depths. 

Again and again and again- “Yeah…this pussy’s definitely gonna take me now. Isn’t that right, teach?” But the only thing your fried head can urge you into doing is nodding. “Tha’s what I thought. Dumbification: A.” Toji cocks his head. “Don’tcha think I’m being too nice with these grades?”

Shaking your head fervently- through sobs.

“Mmmm…well, I think I am.” His canines teasingly grip your clit and draaaaag that swollen nub out. “S’alright doll. After this, you can grade my cock when s’time…”

He smirks - still keeping that firm attachment onto your most sensitive place - and you can feel it. You can feel it—

“And you can be as fuh-fuckin’ ruthless as you want.” Toji’s long fingers then curl inside your cunt for a final time before…“Because I know m’gonna be fucking my girl right.”

Before you’re shattering.

Breaking into your high—it first starts with an explosion of pleasure between your legs- before teleporting right up to your fuzzy head. Your thighs were quaking. Your pulse was thundering so loud you could hear it with your own ears- and it felt as though those torrential waves of bliss were just taking you over.

“Oh—oh, fuck.” Clawing your hands through Toji’s hair. The only anchor you had was this- and the tunneling digits that were fingering you to ecstasy- he was hitting at every peak. He was elongating your orgasm more than you ever thought possible. “Fuck, fuck, fuck- fuuuuuck, Toji.”

“Tha’s right- say my name.” He grunts. Such lecherous slurps! echoing from between those legs of yours as he sucked n’ sucked on your clit simultaneously. “Say my name- say my name. Who’s making you feel this good?”

“Toji.” You hiccup. “Y-you, Toji.”

A sudden spank! resounds across all four corners of the room.

Your high crescendos even further than your limits- or at least what you’d assumed them to be. 

“I was lookin’ for sir, but that works, too…” Your jaw drops at the boldness of this man. 

“Sir? D-don’t think that you’re getting off easy when I- ngh, when I finally ride you stupid.” As the last few pangs of your orgasm shimmer through your body, you’re managing to gather your thoughts better than before. “What do you think you’d get anyway?”

Toji pulls off your oversensitive pussy with a loud plap! “A’s across the board.”

“Oh, don’t be so humble.”

With that said- you’re reaching out and grabbing Toji by the collar. He gets dragged upwards—the bed dips as the larger man cages you in with his strong forearms. He leers, “I think you pass, don’t you?” You could see that somewhere during makin’ out with your pussy, Toji had tugged down his pants- likely to jerk himself off as he did so.

And his long cock stood aching and rock-hard between his legs.

That round, reddened tip of his seemed to wink up at you as he dribbled out a single bead of precum. Aaaaall the way from the edge of his cockhead, and aaaaaall the way down to his bushy black curls at the base. 

Your mouth waters. 

Hands on his body- his fingers tearing through your own fabric. Soon enough you’re naked beneath him—and he’s just as devastatingly bare. Perfectly-aligned abs. Chiselled pecs. Fushiguro Toji had a body that made him look as though he was hand-carved by Hercules himself- it was just so sensual the way his ladder-like core pushed down against yours.

And it’s so difficult to keep a stern face facing him when those bulky biceps of his were flexing—right next to your face. 

But somehow you manage- you were a professional after all, weren’t you?

“I’m serious about what I said on riding you stupid.” You’re murmuring up at him, “Flip over.”

He smirks, “And if I don’t?”

Within split-seconds, you’re grabbing a fistful of his hair and watch as his cock twitches at the rough manhandling—at the way you’re turning the two of you over and straddlin’ his hips. Toji bucks with a groan underneath you, but you’re quicker than that- and you’re clasping a hand around his gulping throat. Sweaty and scorching to the touch .

“Ah ah-” You tut. “You already had your fun. Now it’s time for mine…”

“Aye aye, teach.”

“Quiet coyote.”

Toji mimes zipping his lips shut—but there’s openin’ back up again almost instantly once he feels your sultry hips swivelling down his cock. You duck a hand underneath yourself to grab his throbbing hilt- and before long, his wet tip’s smushing apart your pussylips. He’s intruding that hole of yours and bucking up into where you needed him the most. 

He shovels in a few more inches with an echoing sluuuurp! of your pussy viciously gulping him up.

“What did I…oh.” Beside yourself, your head’s throwing backwards at the sheer pressure he was creating inside. “What did I say about staying still?”

“Actually…you didn’t say anything about that.” That grin of his was infuriatingly handsome. “Still, mmm, cockdrunk?”

“You wish…” Though that wasn’t an outright denial.

It was true that your mind was coiled with fog after your last orgasm; the dopamine still coursing through your body. And the way that Toji’s thickened, textured length was pushing your walls aside wasn’t helping—it was making you feel sensations so raw and carnal- that saliva’s dripping down one side of your mouth after a mere few semi-thrusts.

Just the bulging edge of Toji’s tip scourin’ your channel inwards.

“Awww, don’t tell me I was right?” He asks you- and it registers as mere distant words. Toji reaches out his right hand and wipes away that splatter of spit - before bringing it up to his own mouth and sucking. What an animal. “Can’t grade ol’ Toji’s cock? Or is it- heh, so good that I’m breaking all the scales?”

“You fucking-”

“Yeah yeah, wish- right?” He scoffs meanly. But honestly…he might be teasing you but he was completely infatuated with the idea of your smart mouth babbling for him like this.

The way you were twitchin’ with every light graze of his flared tip.

Your insides were getting used to him, and Toji was only stuffing himself even deeper. “Right…” Though of course- Toji himself wasn’t doing all too hot. Just a single one of your adhesive-like clenches and he can’t help but buck—

“Easy, eeeeasy- you can take me, my girl.” He grits his teeth. He blinks back the tears in his eyes. He’s guiding your impatient hips n’ grinding your cunt dooooown onto his pelvis. “Fuck- fuck, and how d’you grade the stretch?”

Your eyes pop open. “The stretch?”

“Mhm- the streeeeetch—yeah?” Toji’s chest rumbles in delight as he watches your every microexpression and reaction. Even the smallest curlings of your toes. “Such a big stretch feels good, yeah?”

“Mhm- I rate it a…” Your jaw hangs open- as though to purposefully influence your grading, he’s shovelling his length a few more times. Faster. “B.”

And that…what the fuck?!

“A fucking what?” That makes Toji’s maw gape, and his handsome face twist into something of bewilderment. You look at him and you honestly let out a little chuckle - but that seems to only spur his driving hips even further. “Oh noooo, doll. You’re joking.”

“I said what I said.” Biting back. “It’s a B because…” Throwing your head back and arching—you’re gaining more movement in your hips and letting him push inside. “-you’re just not- fuck. Bottoming. Out. Fucking do it already—!”

His feet plant ever-so-slightly on the ricketing mattress- and that means you were feeling the plushness of his muscular thighs against your back. Those tendons and rippling strength. There’s honestly nothing more for you to do but gnaw down on your trembling lower lip in the hopes that those embarrassing noises won’t escape-

Because Toji then glues his hands upon either side of your hips and slams your cunt down onto him.

It’s such incredible friction. It’s so many of his winding veins- pushin’ apart your walls and scouring you all over—

You’re arching your back into him and gasping- “A…”

“A what?” 

“A for your veins.” And that honestly manages to catch him off-guard and make him let out an exhilarated bout of laughter. Being in your presence was like four shots of espresso—fucking you was four shots of vodka. Straight. He’s dizzy and he’s clamorin’ his numerous inches up your pretty channel, watching as you drip glittering globs of slick all ‘round him. 

“Oh…” Toji seems to grow even bigger inside you. He grips you as hard as your pussy was clenchin’ him. “Keep going-”

“And a- fuck, an A for your pace—” Just perfect. Dizzingly fast; whilst still being steady and balanced enough that you were able to feel his textured length slipping into every spot he needed to slip into—“And a…a fucking F for your attitude.”

“Hey…” Toji juts his scarred lip out in a mock-attempt at a pout. “Don’t imply m’sassy when your pussy speaks like that to me.”

Right on cue, you’re letting out some of the most sinful slurps as your cunt slaps right down onto him. Onto his hefty balls. 

Toji’s thick brows raise at the sounds- even he didn’t think that your pussy could get this chatty. Mouth falling agape as he watches you drip-drip-driiiip.

You’re grabbing onto both of Toji’s sculptured deltoids for balance, increasing your pace as your legs start to grow limp. Perhaps noticing your little struggle, he’s supporting one of your legs with his left hand—and thumbing over your clit with his right. “And then? What else—dick got yer tongue?”

“You fuckin’ wish.” You snipe back.

“Yeah.” Toji simply replies. Without a single warning, he’s craning his head up and signalling you to open your mouth- instinctually, your tongue sticks out. Perfect for him to spit—a heaping mess between your lips. “You looked so pretty with my cock stuffed down your throat, too.”

Grumbling - though it was just for show - yet you swallow. “That was a B- since you almost missed.” One of your hands reaches up to swipe at the splattered saliva piled on the edge of your mouth.

“Oh, no.” With such a loving glint in his eyes, he’s leaning up and kissing the mess he’d just left behind. “That was totally on purpose, doll.”

“F-filthy…”

“You know it, teach.”

Both of your bodies were slick with sweat and glissading against one another- Toji himself was especially frenzied with his movement. His thrusts. His battering rams. The way his pointed tip struck the end of your cervix—bottomed-out, and then smeared apart your channel to drag aaaaaaall the way back down. Aaaaaaall the way back in.

And through it all- you’re sputtering out the same ruthless grading of his cock. Red-hot and ruining your insides with every thrust. Pump after pump- “Deepness…B.”

Bruising his tip’s circumference at the very back of your pussy. Dribbling out ribbons of pre. 

“Hmmm, alright a B+.” Pleasure runs through your body the more n’ more Toji grows irritated- because that meant the more he was trying to prove himself. The harder he was fucking you. “And the- hah, curve: an A.”

“Damn right.” That, he could most certainly be proud of. That slightly upwards curve of him was the perfect shape to mold your walls- to let his honed tip be the searchlight.

And your sweetest spots were what he was aiming for.

After a few more vulgar strokes, Toji’s rediscovering and ramming himself into none other than your g-spot. That throbbing bundle of nerves that’d just kept on and on waiting for him to probe you with his shaft—perhaps a bit too long at that…“What took you so long to find that spot again, Toji?”

“Take it easy on me…” He pleads with a slight hint of amusement. “Your pussy was to- mmm, hypnotizing. You can’t blame a guy for taking a little time…needy fuckin’ pussy.”

That last bit was said to himself- underneath his breath, in fact.

And yet, your proximity means that you’re catching onto every single word - and without a split-second of hesitation you’re countering back. “Oh? What was that…I’m sorry, maybe I was- hngh, hearing things? Because it just sounded to me like you wanted all your g-grade to plummet to an F?”

His lips part. “You wouldn’t…”

You peck him on the mouth. “Try. Me.”

And fuuuuuck—it’s clear he’s not expecting the way that sends pangs of excitement coursing through every inch of him. It’s clear he doesn’t know what to fucking do with himself- once he propells his ruddied cockhead to hit against the door to your womb.

And Toji’s thighs are left shivering at the way your walls immediately rush to embrace him.

Suctioning him.

A ribbon of drool drips slowly from the edge of his mouth, “A-and what do I have to do to make it up?”

“Hmmmm?” The fact that you made the Fushiguro Toji stutter so blatantly like this…it was driving you wild. It was making the cockiest smile plaster across your face- he wanted to kiss it away so bad but you were teasingly inching your lips away, making him work for it. 

He growls and repeats- “What do I have to fucking do to get- hah, extra credit? To make up for my…” Toji’s prominent Adam’s apple bobs. “-mistake.” 

“There now. Was that so hard to- hah, admit?” You coo. “Gimme a D.”

“Huh?” Toji gapes. “Aren’t you the one supposed to be- ngh, giving out the grades?”

“Yeah, I know. I’m just telling you to shut up and fuck me harder with your fat dick—”

“Yes, ma’am.” 

He lightly stirs his hips in semi-circular motions to get the most out of his veiny cock- to make sure that those prized n’ precious vessels were massaging your insides just right. “Fuck-” Your entire upper half is shaking from stimulation - “Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuck—just like that.”

“Hngh, oh yeah?” Honed canines beared.

“Faster-” And he listens.

“Harder.” And he listens once more.

“Fucking-” You’re it escape you in a trilling tone. “-b-breed me…”

Toji’s breathless once the words register to him. “Yes, ma’am…” 

Pumping up into you - meeting your bouncin’ cadence - like he was angry with you. Like he was trying to shove to your deepest depths n’ then probe his erect cock even further. Like he was trying to meld your bodies into one—

He was fucking you in a way that was so animalistic.

And Toji can’t help it- fuck, he can’t help but throw his head back—it just feels so good. Eyes shuttering. Brows furrowing. His hips unsticking from the now-dampened bedsheets to arch properly up into you-

But that’s when he feels those familiar fingers ‘round his throat again.

“Ah ah ah—” You tut. Your vision was just a little bleary from all the tears and pleasure clogging up your mind- “And who said you could- hah, move, hm? Seems like you’re the one running away, not me. What? Scared m’gonna milk you too hard, Fushiguro Toji?”

He growls. “You little…”

“F- for handling yourself.” Remembering just how much he’d teased you earlier for similar reactions just made these words so much sweeter on your tongue. “In fact…”

Toji looks eagerly up at you through his bangs.

To which you’re taking your lazy time changing your sloppy cadence into figure-eights instead. It swerved n’ stirred his pussy around your depths; and made it so that the most sensitive parts of Toji’s veins - that pinkish line underneath his slit, the frailest of his veins, where his balls rested - were being stimulated. Making him pour out wads of precum into you as though it was a waterfall—

“See me after class.”

“Fuck yes.” Toji grunts to himself- his hair was flying into his face, and every bit of his skin seemed to be furiously flushed. “Fuck—fuck, I need to cum inside you.”

Plap after plap after plap! of his hips hitting yours. “Mhmmm—”

“I n-need to fill you up until here-” His thumb briefly detaches from your clit to graze your lower stomach, where your womb was wont to be. “I need to feel it pouring out of you- then fuck it all back in.” And he was pistoning into you like it, too.

“Shit, m’close-”

Hard. Fast. The wads of his sappy precum only get stronger and more frequent - “I n-need to…”

Toji’s voice hatches into nothingness in his throat, and you’re cooing down at him cutely. “What’s thaaaat?”

“Need you to make me a f-father for a second time.” Toji utters.

And then with a particularly hard press on your heart-shaped, swollen clit—you’re both tumbling into your highs together. Tumbling into one another as you both hold each other through your strong orgasms - even stronger than the one you’d had prior.

Zaps and twinges of pleasure. 

Goosebumps dapple across your skin.

Your spine arches into him. 

Now you have Toji’s ravenous cock bulging into your walls- his globular tip searchin’ for every sweet spot and pinpointing them using his shape. That only elongated the sparks of your high until it felt never-ending; and dopamine washes over your body and leaves you wracking. Hands clawing down wherever you could latch onto the older man. Your knees squeezing tighter around his waist to milk him through his own euphoria. “Yes—yes, just like that.”

“Oh…oh, look at the way m’dripping out of you…” Toji’s mouth unfastens. Your cunt had already been bloated around his cock- now with his volumes of cum being webbed up inside, it was almost too much for you to handle.

And Toji’s orgasm rips through him strong—even his powerful limbs were wrapped around you as he powered through it. His thumb tremblin’ as he rolled and rolled.

He breathes out hot and heavy when those fingers of his dare to wonder…right along where a sheen was spreading along your inner-thighs. Every satiny drop of cum he was pouring out gets slid down your cervix- and then trickles deep inside of you. “So messy, this pussy o’ mine.”

“Yours?” You gasp. Though even that tiny reaction meant you feel his warm wetness splosh! inside you.

“Mhmmm—” He nods drunkenly. Left arm wrapping behind you and pulling you to him - resting you against his chest. “But don’t worry…this cock is yours, too.”

You scoff. “The audacity. Didn’t I give this cock an F?”

“Yeah, you sure did give me a fuck.”

You decide that the only way to shut up him is to overstimulate him by fuckin’ him—perhaps unfortunately for you, Fushiguro Toji seemed to have had the same idea.

“Mmm, now what about the parent-teacher meeting? We already- oh, handed out the grades, didn’t we?” He’s whispering in your ear once he’d somehow manhandled you into a doggy position. Sculpted abs pressed against your spine. Beefy arm wrapped around your throat in a headlock—

“T-to say what?” You’d wheezed out.

“That m’not done fucking this pussy pregnant.”

.

.

.

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI’S (and co.) FIVE-STEP PLAN TO MATCHMAKE HIS FATHER AND HIS TEACHER—PHASE FIVE: 𝕲𝖎𝖛𝖊 𝖚𝖕…

It’s so over.

Today was the day of the talent show; and Fushiguro Megumi had never felt more untalented. 

And no…it wasn’t because of any of the other competition—if he had any idea how these things go, at the end they were going to say that everyone won and everyone gets a prize. This was elementary school, after all. And he was quite grown up. 

Anyways—the point is his, Itadori, and Kugisaki’s magic show had been quite the hit amongst parents especially.

And that wasn’t why he was feeling untalented. 

It wasn’t because Todo’s PG-censored version of a Megan Thee Stallion song had been honestly…quite good. It wasn’t because Yuta’s puppeteering act had been something that’d drawn endeared laughter from both kids and parents alike. It wasn’t even because of the act that was happening right now…where Inumaki was standing alone on center stage with a notebook opened up in his hands. The last act of the night.

The rest of the show had gone swimmingly.

Inumaki was a bit more of the quiet type, but at this moment he speaks into the mic loud and clear. 

“For my talent today, I am going to read out vocabulary words taught to me by Fushiguro-san. Thank you Fushiguro-san!”

The audience coos and turns to try and find the aforementioned man.

From his position peaking-in from backstage, Megumi watches his father pale from the first row. And then sink deeper into his seat.

Deeper.

And deeper.

And deeper-

“Bud.”

Though the rest of the audience nods in sweet endearment- Toji’s damn-near jumping out of his seat in surprise. That was…clearly not what he had been expecting.

Not at all.

Inumaki continues.

“Cookie.”

And Toji has gathered enough bravery to…perhaps properly sit up in his seat. Clapping along with the other parents- looking around to make sure that he wasn’t just hearing things. And this was actually what Inumaki was reciting.

“Concussion.”

That one draws some admiring sounds. Such a big word for such a small kid—good on Fushiguro Toji, right?

He might just be safe…

“And divorce.” That one draws mixed reactions- but Inumaki closes his infamous blue notebook, and Toji lets out a sigh of relief - one that was nearly audible backstage. 

Along with the rest of the parents, he can whole-heartedly start clapping now. Maybe even throw in a cheer or two.

Let the audience know that he was the mastermind behind such academic advancements. Yeah, maybe they should pay him.

But Inumaki wasn’t done yet.

“And my favorite yet—” Which one was it? Which other important vocabulary word had Toji so graciously bestowed upon this kid? Which other aspect of his life had Toji alleviated by the sharing of precious, precious knowledge? Inumaki firmly grips the mic. “Is fuc-”

Megumi leaps onto stage and snatches the microphone out of Inumaki’s hand before he can complete that specific word…

But the implication must have been evident either way, because then each set of eyes turns behind to the black-haired man. And glares. Toji flips them off. The applause is more polite than willing now. Then he decides that he’s never showing his face ‘round here again, he’s never stepping a foot through those damn multi-colored doors if it fucking kills him, he’s never—

Just then, you’re stepping onto the stage and graciously taking the mic from Megumi. He’s so back.

“Hello? Is this thing on?” You chuckle into it. 

And Toji…Toji knows. He knows he wouldn’t mind being thrown a dirty look from every single person he meets- so long as you’re there to spot him out in a crowd. Tugging his son close to you—as you beckon all the other kids on-stage and start your speech.

It’s mostly thanking those that made it possible; the parents, the staff, and especially the students. Toji isn’t quite ashamed to admit that he’d been too busy drowning in your gorgeous tone to even register your words—

Expectedly, you were telling the kids that everyone won - and Principal Yaga had been called on-stage to hand out prizes to every one of the kids. And as Fushiguro Megumi holds his prize - a custom trophy with his name, a certificate, and a bunch of art supplies - he’s suddenly remembering why he’d been feeling so untalented.

It had been a week since Phase Four of the mission to get you and his father together. And it had been a few days since parent-teachers meeting and Toji had come to pick him up the next day, smiling dopily.

Megumi’s sure his father’s losing his marbles. 

And he has the strange, sinking feeling that after tonight- they’d either forget about the plan or abandon it altogether. Feeling so hopeless—it’s so over.

“Hey, Fushiguro…” Itadori not-so-successfully whispers to the black-haired boy, ultimately drawing attention from whomever was around the two of you. “Fushiguro, isn’t that your dad coming up the aisle?”

“And why does he have such a big bouquet of flowers?” Kugisaki adds on.

Though…once Toji reaches the foot of the stage everything becomes very clear.

Because with a hand coming up to your mouth, and the spotlight shined on you, he lovingly hands you the plush bouquet of roses from below. Roses. Red, red roses.

With a silent thank you—you’re kissing Toji on the cheek.

Every. Single. One of their jaws drop-

Inumaki starts scribbling something down in his notebook.

Yuta sticks an approving thumbs-up.

Even some of the parents in the audience whisper to one another - most nod approvingly. 

And Toji catches Megumi’s eye to wink. “We’ll talk later.” He mouths.

Megumi nods mutely- excitement thrums through him so fast that his fists clench—and Itadori has to clasp onto them. They succeeded? They really, truly succeeded?

His eyes are glimmering as he turns to Itadori and Kugisaki- both nodding excitedly in agreement. They couldn’t squeal like they wanted to right now with Yaga’s speech droning on in the background, but after…after, they had a loooot of questions for the new couple. 

Together; they loop their arms together in a silent victory.

They’re so back.

Though being silent was never something for Todo Aoi.

Yelling. 

“Fushiguro Toji rizzed Ms. Teacher before GTA 6—?!”

Status: W. 

A/N. Honestly AHAHAH- this was so unserious.

Oh. 

That wasn’t a promise - it was uttered like an oh-so-simple fact.

Well, your melty mind supposes, that is what you get for stubbornly claiming that you could “take it all”. Begging. 

Over and over for days until your dear Toji had finally snapped. Had finally manhandled your poor self into the meanest of mating presses, giving your sloppy hole a mere savoring taste of the fat circumference of his syrupy pink tip-

“Oi.” Toji’s planting two swats onto the deliriously lolling side of your face. “Better not be f-fucked stupid already after all that talkin’ outta ya slutty pussy, ma.”

Hypnotized head nuzzling the sweat-slicked crook of his neck, your sloppy tongue garbles out a barely-coherent, “I-I’m not- I swear. It’s j-just…”

“J-j-just what?” Toji’s rumbling baritone hitches up into a dramatic high pitch, rounded curvature of his knees opening your trembly thighs up even further. 

“Just…”

Only to rummage a good few inches of length past your saccharinely glossy hole. Perfectly left-leaning curve of his shaft swiping down your tender spots and fucking you spellbound. Snickering, “Honestly, just loooove complainin’, don’tcha? Why don’t you ah- beg f’me, instead?”

But you can’t - couldn’t even if you wanted to. 

Because Toji was big, to say the least. 

Girthy, merciless near-nine inches of him glazed a dripping gloss of precum. And it looked like it pained him to pull out. It pained him to slip and slide a sandwiching kiss of his soft, coral pink underside between your saturated lips. Back and forth back and forth back and-

“C’mon c’mon–” he’s hissing, dark brows knitting together tight. And the way you’re pushing away his sweat-streaked strands of black makes Toji shudder. “Yer my good girl, right? G-gonna take it all like a fucking champ, aren’tcha?”

“I-I will?” You mewl, eyes nervously straying to the way he looked so comically staggering twitching between your legs. Impatient. Red and angry. It made you starved. “I will.”

And oh, Toji would make sure of that.

Making sheer white cloud your vision when he’s letting go of his hefty crownhead to thud! across your quivering hole. Before his toned hips drivel in tiny little gyrations to pump you so full - Toji’s bloated cockhead spearheading you open so solidly. And the stretch-

The stretch. 

The globular ends of his shaft mazes between your gluey walls to push you tautly to your limits. His sobbing divot buttering up every forbidden nook and cranny inside you with sappy splotches of pre - you felt so heavy with him halfway inside. 

“Ah ahh- Toji– you’re in s-so d-deep-” You’re mindlessly rovering your fingers over to feel for that fattened, cylindrical outline of his nudging further and further up your gummy orifice. Big, pearly tears bead at your eyes and make him grin. “Can feel you right h-here. Dunno if I can take m-”

But in the blink of an eye, your slackened maw is being flooded with such stringy wads of spit. Streaming in a slicked mess from Toji’s curled lips before spattering onto your tastebuds. “If ya can t-take this, then you can take all of me, doll.”

Shrieking at the plummy twitch of his split cockhead swashing another wad of ribbony pre. “R-really?”

“Mhmm, Toji’s always hgh- right.” The fat curves of his fingers smush your mouth closed. To swallow. He swipes away a few speckles at the corner of your pretty mouth, pecking an innocent smooch against your lips to wipe those excess remnants cleanly off. “H…heh- good girl. Now get ready for hah- Toji’s biiig stretch.”

Leisurely swiping down one set of his fingerpads to scissor your puffy pussy lips further and further open. Herculean hips rolling to make you gulp down more more more-

“S-See? Didn’t I hah- say this cute cunt could ngh- take me?” Toji can’t help but crush your pliant body with the weight of his muscular thighs, heaving - practically plastering his sculpted front into yours. “Take this fuckin’ cock- the one you said was too big.”

God, he thinks he could almost laugh - fucking giggle like he was air-headed at how pretty you looked underneath him like this .

Your pupils practically heart-shaped and crossing with every jackhammering roll of his hips, tongue lolling out in a way that makes him spit all over again. 

“Mhm- just one more fuckin’ inch now, ma.” Well, more like three - but Toji had the feeling you were too cockdrunk to tell the difference, anyway. And with a sodden slap! against your perked clit, he’s curling a calloused few digits around your throat. “Better take it all now.”

Dragging you - biceps flexing when he manhandles you from your throat to push you down millimeter by millimeter, suck him snugly down your elastic walls. And you didn’t know whether you were lightheaded because of that choking restraint or because of the stretch-

But then…

“Oh- Oh?” And something in Toji’s tone makes you blink your thoroughly glassy gaze to rationality. “Fuck- wait-” Toji gasps, he heaves. Willowy eyes bulging, snarling when he feels his ears pop! “Wait, don’t tell me- m’really…really…”

He was. 

Now, Toji never claimed to be an optimist - he never said he was a miracle-worker but fuck- was this real? You were really, really milking all of him? This was what it felt like being buried balls-deep inside you? 

God, he could die right now between your legs and still be a happy man.

Because he feels like his entire body has been zapped with a zillion bolts of electricity - like he’s in heaven. Stemming all the way from the lustrous little thwack! of his pulpy tip against your spongy cervix. 

“Are- are you all the way inside?” You’re sobbing out, whines clawing at your throat with every smooth whack of Toji’s fattened cock into your goopy depths. 

“I…” And Toji wants to answer - he wants to not look like a wordless fool in front of you but he can’t right about now. Scarred lips falling parted, he can barely even breathe right about now. Sharp jaw slacking open into a sexily husky laugh, “Yes. Hah! Atta girl, there we g-go. Knew my girl could ngh- do it.”

“Too big” his ass. 

In the lazy blink of your weepy eyes, Toji has the two of your sweat-simmered bodies flipped over. Your own glued to his toned front, nails clawing at his bulging deltoids, head drooping between his cushiony pecs.

Bubbles of spit and pure whines flood your mouth when the massive mountains of Toji’s palms sift underneath your thighs to help you ride. Starting off slow - stumbling - presenting you with languid, tumbling thrusts that shape your fleshy insides to every ridge and curve of his cock. 

Roughened digits pushing you down. Even more. 

“Now…here comes the fun part tha’s gonna end up with you heh- pregnant, ma.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - 10.25 inches

“Am I…am I really that big?” 

If this was anyone other than your dear Nanami you’d have huffed at that subtle brag of a question - but Nanami wasn’t bragging. And he wasn’t aware of just how much that simply sopping slide of his blushing shaft into your gooey depths was splitting you apart. 

“Y-yes–” you’re mewling out, tangling your fingers with his thick ones to trek them all over your stuffed lower tummy. And Nanami gasps at the bloated nudge of his fat tip against your buttery walls. The outline. That you can feel from the outside. The curvature of his greedy thumb smearing down the mushy rounded edges tenderly. “S’like m’gonna hngh- break.”

Stern lips puckering up to kiss away the pearly tears that lather your fluttery lashes, he’s rumbling from the back of his throat. “Shhh…if you c-can’t, my love, then we can always-”

“Noooo-” God, Nanami loved to see that smack mouth of yours wobble with a few breaking whines, falling into a soft oh! when your squirmy hips shuffle a ravenous few gulps of more and more of his inches. “Want it- want it all.”

“Are you sure, darling? M’only halfway in right now.”

Nodding - nodding and nodding because you’ve never wanted anything more. A simpering trailway of drool sloshes from the slackened corner of your mouth when he’s slapping his weepy cockhead in two nice slaps into your extra sweet orifices. 

He was long and thick - unfairly so. Equipped with heavy breeder balls that thump! thump! thumped against your thighs in the same needy rhythm as your heartbeat. Messy. The tannish blushing divot on his mushroomy tip barely even having to try to sugarcoat your goopy depths with a sweltering hot few splotches of creamy pre- 

“Then…” Nanami’s wrenching you out of your cockdrunk little daydreams, and you’re faced with his utterly loving gaze. “You can hah- hold my hand- squeeze it if it gets too…much, my love.”

As if you ever would tap out.

Because the stretch was so addictive. 

Every single one of his shuddering drives making your dewy eyes sprint all the way hidden at the back of your lids. The exact degree of his arch having you let off a few keens, legs thrashing with the depraved kiss of his sappy cockhead against your g-spot. 

“Hey hey-” Nanami’s slanting his mouth over the rivulets upon rivulets of cold sweat beading at your forehead. And in turn you desperately crane upwards to kiss his plush pecs. “Remember what we talked about hngh- before?”

“Y-yes. Simple breathing techniques ah-” you’re crying out as he sneaks in a good swab down your slippery walls. “S’best to oh! Take slow, d-deep…long breaths to relax.”

Nanami chuckles out at your whiny little emphasis, every slow breath of yours helping his dexterous fingers guide that hooked bend of his knotted cock to bump into your treasured spots. Deeper.  “Mhmm– good girl, relax. What else?” 

“A-and- focus on one part of your ah- body t-to-” You can feel your weepy cunt pulse – thoroughly full and just about all that you could focus on. Inch by fucking inch disappearing. “-to boost awareness and…relax.”

Yeah, certainly enough for Nanami to tut when your glutinous pussylips tack on even tighter around him to halt his merciless pathway. 

“Hate to see ya strugglin’, darling. Hold on t-tight-” Nanami’s blond brows simmer with a fresh sheen of perspiration at the tiny resistance. Strong arms dredging your useless legs up onto his broad shoulders. Indenting circular bruises with just how hard your heels were digging in. But oh, he doesn’t care. Doesn’t give a shit if it hurt - instead, planting a sweet few pecks at your ankles. “Because s’a bit of a biiiig stretch.” 

He’s hiking one athletic thigh up even higher, adonis-like muscles flexing when Nanami arches his back and bends you easily in half. 

Sweetly toying a few circular brushes of his fat thumb against your neglected clit. You’re at the utter mercy of the deepening angle walloping his crownhead into your spongy cervix. Dragging his wet tip in a saccharine few ribbons of velvety pre, you’re being absolutely flooded with the sheer size of him. With all of him-

“I-is it all in?” You’re sobbing out, only for Nanami to stray his hypnotized eyes accordingly downwards and gasp. 

“S’all in- ohhhh s’all in- my perfect, perfect girl.” Nanami’s regal nose crinkles with sheer bliss, condensely fogged-up glasses leering further and further down his nosebridge. “N’ s’like y-you’re gonna be hngh- split apart, darling.”

And it felt like it.

Like Nanami was trying to mold your rubbery cunt into the exact shape of him, sticky kisses of his tight balls making you shy. To make sure with every bruising circumference of his overfed tip that you won’t forget him. Forget his size.

“G-gonna hafta get this pretty pussy hngh- used ta me.” He’s tilting his head down at that addictive image of your slurping pussy greedily sucking up every drilling jackhammer, every gyration, every grind just to watch the way your eyes bulge when he’s probing deeply into your cervix. “Jus’ hafta hngh- fuck her to the sh-shape of my cock oh!”

Every clingy squeeze of your gluey walls felt like you were doing that exact thing, and Nanami can’t help but let his toned hips poke languidly into your slicked g-spot. Sloshing a few tender dabs when he’s latching his mouth around your ankles to bite. To worship. 

And it makes you sob. It makes you moan. It makes you cum - gasping in surprise at the sudden crash of your high, legs locking around Nanami’s thick neck.

You’re feeling limp - your eyes half-shuttering to a close at the flurries of stars in your vision. Barely even able to breathe let alone register the simpering smile plastering all over Nanami’s face when he locks your ankles behind his head with one ravenous hand. 

Still moving. Still aching. 

“My love…” He’s starting off. Low. Promising. You’re being gifted with a slow, slow filth of a kiss, still having his pretty lips sucking on your tongue when he hums. “Don’t think I’ve molded you ta my ngh- cock jus’ yet.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - 9.54 inches

It’s been hours now - hours. 

Hours of Geto cracking open your trembly legs to mouth over that glossy wetness between them, making out with your slobbery pussy for ages until you were still dizzy with the slow tangle of his soft tongue against your treacly clit. 

Still feeling the aftershocks of your nth orgasm when he’s flooding out a few viscous spurts of cum that slop between your pursed pussy lips. Gleaming sultry little lip-stain that he’s oh-so-unashamedly swabbing along a few fingers.

“Hmmm, now this won’t do–” Geto’s popping those slender digits into his mean mouth, snickering at the awe-struck little gasp you’re letting off. “Ain’tcha embarrassed to be th-this fucked n’ I’ve only put the tip in, gorgeous?” 

He was so unfair. 

Dark brows marrying together sexily when he’s spending a sloppy few seconds pretending to think, “Whaddaya think? Can you ah- take me even when you’re being this full?”

And full you were - being teased over and over again. Fucked with only the hefty, globular curve of his pretty, pierced cockhead until your poor pussy was frosted with a thick, creamy lather of Geto’s seed. Trickling between your legs and splotching over where you were hovering over his muscular thighs, bouncing with your precarious seated position. 

Huffing, one hand of yours grapples onto the mountainous terrain of Geto’s sculpted deltoid. The other curling around his pale, sweat-slicked throat in a way that made him drool. “Been w-wantin’ all of ya you, all this ngh time, Sugu–”

SMACK!

“Speakin’ out of turn is rude, y’know?” Geto soothes over the swatted imprints of his fingers on your ass. Before rovering down, down, down, to dredge out the most sinful slurps when he slides one greedy index over your sodden slit. “Right? N’ we were havin’ such a ngh- good conversation.”

That cold studded Prince Albert on Geto’s blushing mushroom tip skims between your pussyflaps, feeding you inch by fucking inch until he stopped just past the tip. As usual. 

“Hmmm, what’s this?” Pointedly ignoring your broken little whines in favor of guiding his trekking fat crown to bump that metallic piercing against your gooey sweet spots. To bruise. “Ya want more? Heh, so filthy how ya think ngh- more with this pussy than that pretty lil’ head of yours, gorgeous.”

“You’re the filthy one, Suguru–” you’re whimpering, fingers digging even tighter around his throat at the rude smirk on his pretty face. And you can’t stop yourself - you can’t help yourself - when your hips shiftily sink deeper. And deeper. 

“W-woah-” Geto’s puffy breaths hiccup, before clearing his throat into one stray hand. “I-I mean- fuck! Can see it from the outside.”

Indeed, he could. 

You were so fucking pretty sat upon him like this, with your slobbery pussy weaving out squelching rivulets of cum. Your chest heaving in a way that makes Geto’s mouth water, his eyes locked on that lecherous little bulge where he was scouring a pathway to your very womb.

He’s giggling - delirious and drunk. “What a cute lil’ pussy- s-sooo fuckin’ tight. Feels like m’gonna break ya…h-heh.”

And it’s only when you stutter, when our drizzling jaw shudders open with a cracking Sugu– that he lets his eyes rip away. His hips jutting upwards with a pressurized push-

“Awww, my gorgeous girl struggling to take this hah- big cock? Wanna take it all but you can’t?” With a rough hand latched onto your waist, Geto fucks up into you so tauntingly, rigorous little pushes and pulls that pump you spellbound. And he’s viciously thumping open your sappy pussylips, mouth drying up at the sight of those silvery sploshes of cum. “Y’know m’not gonna fit if ya don’t relax, girl.”

“I-I am relaxing-” you’re bawling out, head lolling backwards at the utter stretch. It was ridiculous, and your blood curdles with just how good it felt. 

Because Geto was so thick. Girth more intimidating than any toy you’ve ever even seen, such a pretty blushing beige. Pricked with one chilling silvery stud at his tip and then another at his bulky hilt, right after the ends of his neat happy trail - one that you oh-so-desperately wanted to reach.

“Liar.” He’s snapping - snarling. 

Making you flinch at the lurch of something dark and hot swimming in Geto’s half-lidded eyes. Long, dark lashes batting innocently up at you when he’s lacing two sets of readied fingers on top of your sweat-dampened head and pushing. “W-wait, Sugu what are you-”

“This pussy is s-soo much more ah- honest…aren’tcha?” And it takes only one more final rapid swat at your gloopy cunt, one wet strike of Geto’s round-tipped fingers before he’s bulldozing you downwards. “Hm, bite on this.”

He’s presenting you his toned arm - mercy. 

Your teeth mindlessly clamping onto his awaiting forearm, gurgles of moans and screams concocting together as your hips buck- Losing your nervous footing to finally plant a pretty peck of your glossed pussy lips against his toned base, to finally have his orbed piercing nudge your throbbing clit. 

And he was big - so, so big that you couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe at the sodden stripes of his pulpy cockhead etched into what felt like your lungs. 

With a soggy pah! you’re letting his arm go, kissing over the sunken indents of your teeth across his flesh.

“O-oh-” Moans upon moans are tumbling out of your mouth before you even realize, and you can’t help the way that your hips are bustling up and down in a filthy cadence. “I-It feels so…”

Alternating between the sloppiest drags up and down up and down his thickened length and lazy swivels that result in fat drags of Geto’s piercing onto the mushiest parts of your clit. He was so fucking big that your fatigued legs could barely even bounce up to his uprightly curved tip. 

“Yeahhh? F-feels nice havin’ me all ngh- inside ruinin’ your cunt, huh?” Geto’s leaning his body further backwards to take in every single detail of you. One arm bounding behind his head and making his biceps flex, the other helping manhandle your needy hips. And you swear you hear his voice falter, you swear you could hear his teasing baritone crack into a whine. “Look how ah- well she’s takin’ me- don’tcha think I deserve a lil’ r-reward, gorgeous?”

Ah, of course he does.

And as soon as you’re craning your head forwards, you feel the sudden twitch of his swollen tip colliding against your cervix. Gushing in ribbony strings of pre when you pry open Geto’s pretty mouth and spit-

“Messy girl.” He’s swiping away that purposeful little splatter of translucent saliva pooling at the corner of his sappy mouth. Swallowing. “Hope ya know m’gonna be doin’ the ngh- same with my cock riiiiight…” Before trailing that very same finger up, up, up to draw an invisible line at the bullseye of your womb. “-here.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - 8.20 inches

“Jus’ need the ah- tip, pretty baby–” Choso’s begging - pleading from his splayed-out position spooning you - and he’s fucking his fat, ruddied cockhead into you desperately. Animalistically. Like it’ll be the last time - when in fact it’s the first. Ever. 

Slurring out a drawling few squelches from your overstuffed pussy, the way you’re glistening all your lustrous volumes of slick down his generous length makes Choso simply keen. Hulking body breaking out with shivers once your nails scrape against his sweat-lathered scalp. 

“But I want more, Cho-” That sullen pout of yours is enough to drive him wild. To bump up at least once more of his inches out of a staggering eight past your gooey ring of muscle, molding your entrance to that girthy bend of him. “Y-you’re so fuckin’ big n’ I want it all.”

Oh. 

Oh.

“Y-you shouldn’t say those ngh- things when s’my first time–” he’s scrunching his brows adorably shyly, one strong palm lifting your trembly thigh even higher to eye the teary trail of cum he’d left off just earlier from simply putting it inside. “Don’ wanna have a ngh- r-repeat of that.” 

How cute.

Choso was so embarrassed that his precious pink blush was reaching all the way from his regal cheeks, down to his bustling tip. Messy and angry. 

You’d heard that it was always the quiet ones - and Choso was hung to a T. The expansive swollen outline of his rock-hard cock smearing against your elastic walls in a way that felt permanent. Your poor pussy was swallowing up so many copious inches again and again and it felt like Choso always had more to give. 

His long length guides a sultry bash against your puffy g-spot, spearheading your gluey walls to mold around his size like butter. Swirling such voluminous heaps of cum that layer him in creamy rings.

“M’being serious, baby-” you’re purring, silken sweet tone of your voice making Choso gasp. Handsome cheeks burning bright red when he’d faced your greedy gaze over one shoulder. “I-it feels so good ngh- you’re in so deep.” 

Choso’s coral pink lip wobbles delicately, face flushing your favorite shade of red. “M-me? Don’t even know how to hngh! use it…r-really? Me? But m’just a virgin-”

“Was a virgin, baby-” You’re correcting him, deft fingers nimbling through his soft locks to pull. And it’s enough to make Choso rut- enough to make his reddening hips shovel even harder. “N’ no need to be so shy. You’re so big you might’ve ngh- jus’ ruined everyone f’me.”

And oh. 

Choso can feel his mind shatter, powerful hips working overtime to plunge another sappy stroke that thuds against your g-spot. Deeper. And deeper. You’re half-wondering whether he even realized that he was way, way past “just the tip” now. 

Nah…definitely too pussydrunk to.

He’s sucking on your kiss-bitten lips like his favorite sugar-coated candy, whimpering out. “G-good. Don’ want you f-for ngh- anyone else.” And you swear you’re catching his doe-eyes dew over with a veil of tears. “Want you to be mine.” 

Grinning - cockdrunk, heart-eyed. “Already am.”

And that extended to that greedy cunt of yours. 

Of course, it did. Why wouldn’t it? 

Choso’s on the very verge of sobbing to himself about why he didn’t do this much, much sooner when his dextrous palms smear open the drool-worthy globes of your ass to sneak a long, mouthwatering eyeful of your stuffed pussy. 

He’s so filthy. So urgent skimming two fat thumbs over to spy the way his fattened cock was disappearing between your soppy pussy lips. Fat and heavy, bullying in solid squeezed into your comparatively tiny opening.

And the sight makes him grunt, “S-such a pretty pussy. Could fuckin’ worship her heheh. I hope you don’t ngh- mind, baby, if I…”

Oh, and you didn’t mind. 

Didn’t have a mind coherent enough to think at all when Choso has to scissor your slick-flooded hole open with his thorough digits to be able to fit in the rest of his raw length. Saturated, solid ruts pushing past your tiny resistance - your poor entrance being stretched further and further with his circumference. 

He has to - he needs to because the stretch was so cozily tight. So sinful. Rubbing his ridged veins down the treacly sides of yours walls, you’re being stuffed to the brim. 

His spattering seed glomping out of you and creating such a fucking mess. Helping Choso slip and slide his thighs to engulf your own.

“Pretty pussy…ohhh what a pretty pussy.” He’s hissing to himself - slurring like an intoxicating mantra. Your honeyed squelches were so loud, answering him practically. “Baby, I want you…need you. Need you to take it allll up inside, m’kay?”

And you can only manage out a stream of dripping wet gasps puffing hotly from between your candied lips, shivering at the honeyed drip of his thick crownhead mussing up the sploshes of cum seated inside you. “G-gonna take it- ah-don’t miss, Choso–”

“I’d never.” But the one thing he might do is be rendered utterly stupid when that cylindrical shaft of his plunges impossibly deep into your gooey orifice. As deep as it would go. As deep as he could give. 

And you swear that Choso stops breathing for a full few seconds once he first bottoms out. Still regaining the blurring vision in your gaze with how you felt fit to burst, you’re opening your mouth with slight concern-

“Th-this…feels so heavenly- fuck! Why does it feel so heavenly?” Choso sounds so genuinely awestruck. Scared. Words dripping with the slight tremble of an exhilarated giggle when his sopping tip curves its way to thud! against your cervix. “I- woah th-this doesn’t feel like my fist at all.”

And every slight bit of recoil makes Choso tut, makes him plant pound after pound onto your battered cunt until you see stars. He was fucking you like he hated you - and babbling pussydrunkenly like he loved you.

You’re mewling through bliss-lathered tears, “D-does it feel good, baby?” 

Oh, Choso really did love you.

“I…I’m fucking you-” he’s breathing out. “I-I’m really fucking you and…”At your encouraging little coos, Choso only swelters with a wafting red blush. Buttony divot at the very ends of his achy cock twitching with a promising squeeze of his hefty, full balls. “...can we hold hands as I cum?”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - 13.3 inches

Nice - the cursed king of curses said he was going to be nice. But if this was his way of being “nice” then you didn’t-

“Tch, that pretty lil’ head of yours scrambled already, brat?” That gruff, rumbling little scolding from underneath you makes you jolt, winding sparks of electricity sprinting down your perfectly arched spine when Sukuna’s punishing your brimful cunt with a sloppy smack! 

Such a sleazy grin overtaking his sexy features at the stunned expression on your face, he’s bouncing his adonis-like knees to jostle your greedy hips up and down up and down up and-

“Can’t ngh- talk now, huh?” Sukuna’s tittering out, a few more numerous swats upon swats being pounded upon your bulging cunt. And the syrupy squelch! emanating from down below is enough to make him groan. Brows knitting, teeth sharp when he grins. “Honestly, woman- aren’tcha used to that stretch by now?”

Fuck- it would be impossible to get used to such a ridiculous size. 

Sukuna’s towering height of seven feet translating into matching cocks that make you gape, your drunken maw parting stupidly open when his twin swollen lengths plunge up into your goopy depths. Reckless. Rude. Your felt like he was fucking open sweet nooks and crannies that you never even knew existed.

That vulgar size difference was everything.

Because he was so girthy - wisps of precum slathering like torrents against your clingy walls. Tautly pulled over thick thirteen inches - and not just one, two of them - that were making you whine-

“B-but-”

“Ah ah-” Sukuna’s cutting you off, sugary tips pecking a hollowing little smooch of his candy-coated pre against that spot in a way that makes you shut up. “Can’t forget our manners now hngh- can we? Raise yer hand when ya talk to the king.”

And it was a joke…partially. It was something to make your beautiful features scrunch up in that adorable pout of yours - not something to make you wrench one trembly hand upwards and listen to him.

“S-s’not my fault-” you’re huffing out, your wondrous hands roaming all down those sinful curves and dips of Sukuna’s muscles thereafter. Resting on their favorite place at the fleshy mounds of his pecs to squeeze. “You’re just so big.”

Rolling his eyes, you’re being angled so that his oversized second tongue can press a dripping smooch against your plump clit. 

“Compliments aren’t gonna g-get me to be any hngh- nicer, mama- C’mon you know that.” And he’s sure to make it so that you never forget if the merciless few more thwack! of his five fat fingerpads down your teary slit were to say anything. “M’already bein’ nice letting you ride me.”

And ah, he’d never admit how pretty you looked like this.

With your sappy cunt stretched wiiiide open over his bumpy cocks, your entire body lathered in sweat and sheer need when he’s sinking in a few more bulky inches. Puffing your pussy lips up until you were about halfway down his raw, red cocks. 

“But ah…yer right about one thing.” Sukuna titters and the flurries of emotions that overtake your absolutely fucked-out face. Head lolling to the side when you’re trying to remember what you even said. Cute. “Lemme heh- jog that memory o’ yours, brat.”

And it was such a blessing - or a curse - that Sukuna had four arms. Four massive, strong arms that were busying themselves with driving you wild.

Two of them caressing the sultry curve of your hips, manhandling you up and down all his copious inches with all the dignity of a ragdoll. A third clawing on top of your cottony-filled head and forcing you to look- to spy where his fourth hand was. 

Sharp, blackened nail of his burly index tapping those ringed tattoos at his inner thighs. “See these?” Doesn’t matter if you didn’t because Sukuna was making your cockdrunk head motion out a nod for him anyway. “Well- then see these?”

Oh, you had to crane your head - you had to stop your condensed gasp from dripping out of your mouth when he’s swiping his fingers across those matching black rings tattooed around the very hefty hilts of his cocks. 

Neat. Stark against unruly tufts of pink. Lacquered with a glistening layer of your sweet, sweet juices. 

“Gotta take it ah- allll the way until there, got it?” Sukuna muses, plummy split-ends of his shafts pummeling even harder against the gumdrop sponge of your walls. Very same finger drawling lazily up, up, up until he was drawing a smug line across way past the middle of your tummy. “So get r-ready for a biiiig stretch, mama.”

And it wasn’t just the stretch - not even the double stretch - triple. Triple the invasive rummages inside your snug channel when Sukuna’s swirling his large secondary tongue to lap up every sliver and every bead of slick slobbering from your cunt. 

Sloshing a gleaming trailway down the very middle of his rosette tastebuds so lewdly when Sukuna grits against the resistance, hips pushing and pushing-

“Ah- ah!” Your hips are like a pendulum still deciding between swallowing up more more more and running away. “I-I don’t think it’ll ngh- dunno if I can t-take any…”

“Nuh uh, no running away.” Sukuna’s greedy hands devour every naked inch of you to stuff you full, tongue working overtime to push open that elastic entrance to your pretty cunt. He knew you could finally take it all. He knew. And he was going to do it. “Made yer bed- now- lie- in it-”

There’s a deafening pap! of your body glissading into his when with a final, determined thrust, Sukuna’s bottoming out. Your pussy lips smooching both his sexy circular tattoos with their first-ever kiss. For the first time in a thousand years. For the first time in his life-

This is what it feels like - this is what it looks like.

You were so stuffed past the brim that you could feel your pressurized ears pop! White-hot pleasure flashing behind your lids when your mouth opens with a raw shrill. 

“So? S’it feel good bein’ all ruined inside?” He’s tittering - choking on rude little whimpers threatening to spill from his even ruder lips. 

“Yes- please it f-feels so…”

And then you’re cumming.

“Oh? Cummin’ already just from taking that cock you said was hngh- t-toooo fuckin’ big?” He leaves a few ravenous bites over the tender crook of your neck. “What a heh- slutty cunt o’ mine.”

Sukuna’s realizing before you when his hips rut upwards into the tight fit to pound you through your high, over and over slapping his heavy cockheads against every tiny geyser of an orifice. Until you felt like you were about to burst-

“O-ohhh look at that gorgeous ngh- bulge.” Sukuna’s voice bleeds its way into a whimper - whimper. And if any other curse saw that heart-eyed filter in his gaze, the way his smile grows simpering, then they’d faint. “Almost makes me think of something…else.”

You, all round and glowing - and not just from the thorough rummage of his dual shafts messing up your poor insides. Outlined with thick cylindrical bumps forming their way at your precious womb. 

The sight is enough to make Sukuna’s heavy-handed cockheads glaze your mushy cervix with a few ribbony spurts of pre. Flooding. Overspilling. Enough do that he’s digging in a thumb hard to feel for the soppingly wet thwack! of those volumes of velveteen splatters.

Murmuring, “Y’know…how do ya feel about the curses getting an ah- new heir, brat? And their very own queen.”

♡ INO TAKUMA - 7.64 inches

“Shhhh, jus’ an inch more- only an i-inch, pretty.” Ino’s heaving, his plummy, split-ended cockhead gushing out a lazy few rivulets of syrupy pre down your sappy slit. “I know that you can do it…take s’more f’me?”

“I-I want to-” you’re gasping out, legs wrangling an even tighter grip around the slender curve of your beloved boyfriend’s toned hips. Mashing his ridged washboard abs against the sensitive backs of your thighs, “But I don’t know if it’ll fit…”

You say that but you can already feel the way your elastic cunt was constricting and molding to the exact sinful curvature of Ino’s swollen cock. Wanting more more more-

But how could you not?

He was so unfairly pretty - fat, burling inches that rummaged your insides with a sugary layer of sloshing precum. It’s like his plump tip was bawling with every smack! down your puckering pussylips, reddening with an innocent flush that matched his cute cheeks. 

“I want it- no, need it to ah- g-go all the way inside-” Ino’s panting begs stumble into your deliriously open maw, the slick gyrations of his tongue tasting you. Savoring. Ringed fingers splayed out and pressing down hard onto the heaving surface of your tummy. “-need everyone t-to know how I’ve ngh- ruined ya for them.”

It’d only taken one sneaking glance at the way some loser at your work was a little too close, a little too…flirty. Simply one spark of that green-eyed monster inside him for Ino to all but drag you home and bend you into such a mean mating press. 

His pummeling hips even meaner. Babbling with every dousing swab of his fattened cockhead probing into your goopy depths. Pushing and pushing. “W-wanna be good f’you, y’know? Wanna be…yours.”

“Ngh- s-sweet-talker-” You’re spitting out, heart lurching oh-so-traitorously at the little blush dusting its merry way all over Ino’s handsome cheeks. He’s ready to burst into flames when you’re hiccuping, “Fuck me, baby- with all of you.”

Those words are barely out of your mouth - the thought barely even registering in Ino’s fuzzy scribble of a brain right now before he’s tugging his hips back a sodden inch and sinking in.

“Mhmmm- don’t worry, pretty-” Ino’s gruffing, scorching beads of sweat forming a dotty mosaic over his blissed-out features. “-Taku’s gonna make it fit- h-heh, yeahhhh m’gonna make it ngh- fit-” So snug that he can’t pound into the way he wants you. Huffing at the resistance, he’s latching onto your peaked clit with a pointed pinch. “-or m’gonna die trying hah.”

A promise - well and fully intended to be made true. 

Abs flexing with every tight little grind that whacks against your sweetened spots, short. Punctuating. Harder and harder until you’re hearing a watery pap! and Ino’s finally - finally - driving you overwhelmingly full with the ruthless dab of his angry, peach-pink shaft impaling open your deepest insides. 

“O-oh.” Ino’s breathing out, chestnut eyes bulging out almost comically at the sloppy trawl of his rock-hard cock in and out. “It fit- it…it actually fit. Mhm- s’that too big for ya, pretty?”

And Ino loved your smart mouth - he loved whatever honeyed syllable would drivel from your pretty lips. But seeing you like this - gasping, and fucked oh-so-dumb on his cock - Ino thinks that he could cum right here and now.

“R-right now?” Your breath hitches, chest heaving to steady your gulping inhales. Impossible with the way that his girthy, rotund cockhead was skimming against what felt like your lungs. 

But oh, you weren’t the only one with your sanity dancing away from you with every plunging jackhammer. Ino looked so ruined - his pretty eyes doeing down till they were almost closed, drizzles upon drizzles of drool flooding out and slicking down his mouth, hanging pathetically open when he’s realizing-

Shit, did he say that out loud?

Oh, well. 

“And so wh-what?” Ino’s huffing out - meant to be much more smug than the pouty whine it actually came out as. Lower lip wobbling out in a watery way, “Wanna fill ya u-up until yer overspilling, sweetness- until I can’t hahah- fit again.”

He’s making such a sappy mess down there as if already fulfilling those promises. One clammily prespired hand latching around your throat to crane your neck into a tender kiss. 

“Wanna fuck a b-baby into ya- ngh- fuck ya until they know I did it-” He’s snarling - alabaster canines beared in a giggle. “Till they s-see you all ah- round and glowing and see me me me me- that coworker’s gonna know that I-I did that. That I fucked you s-so full.” 

Heavy thighs planting flat onto the cushiony mattress, and from the woozy corner of your eye you’re spotting a few bedcoils spring brokenly upwards. “Gonna gimme that, aren’tcha?” He’s breathing. Begging. Eyes fuzzy with a heavy clingfilm of utter loving that he was bestowing upon you with every pap! pap! pap! “Make me a dad, mama?”

Shrilling out hoarsely, “Yes- yes yes yes- I- fuck! M’close, Taku…m’gonna cum-”

Ah, just as you do - Ino plants a gliding thwack! against your g-spot so hard that it makes your eyes criss-cross with utter pleasure. Tumbling into your orgasm headfirst and dragging your dear Ino with it, too. 

Each peaked crevice of your high being followed by the wettest slap of his lathering cum into your most tenderized spots, fucking his seed into you so viciously that you feel bloated. Eyes drooping fatiguely, your nails dragging red, red patterns down his rigorously flexing back. 

It was heaven. 

You can’t think of anything but the slow puddle of viscous seed dribbling from between your slippery slit, nothing but how full you felt. Barely even noticing the creaking protests of the bedframe that was suspiciously sagging from one end.

Broken. 

And when Ino’s blinking his vision back - letting his mouth drool at the sloppy slosh of his ribbony sap clinging around him like a second skin - the only thing he can utter is a low, “S-so…I don’t think we’ve ngh- made our son just yet.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - 11.01 inches

“Aw c’mooon, my girl. Too big- s’too big, riiight?” Fuck- it was. And Gojo already knew with every cocky snicker that wafted over the back of your neck like an oven. He’s plumping his lips down your spine in a sleazy kiss. “Jus’ admit it n’ I might play…nice.”

As if. 

The strongest would never play nice when he had you like this.

When he had his fat, strawberry pink tip French kissing your gluey walls so open. Bumping up against your precious insides to indent every ridge and curvaceous vein against your overstuffed pussy - so staggeringly full. But he still wasn’t done. Barely. 

So ridiculously long and pretty - a size to match up that mean ego of his. Eleven inches? He didn’t even have to try to drive you insane. 

Gojo was flushed the most candied palettes of pink and red, all the way up to his thickened base. Slender fingers curling dexterously around the white tufted hilt to slowly empty out thick drags of buttery pre just past your throbbing g-spot. “Unless ya want-” Inching ever-so-sinfully closer. “-more?”

It was just a little tease - really, it was. Something to make your cute pout jut out, and your gooey insides clench.

But what Gojo didn’t expect was for thick, viscous droplets of saliva to splatter from between your lips at the sheer mind-numbing stretch. Babbling out into the spit-lathered mess of a pillow. “I- I want- ngh- Toru…”

“Yes yes, your dear Toru is hah- here.” And shit, he can’t help but saddle a strong forearm around your neck to hoist your lolling head upwards in a rude headlock. Making such a mess of glimmering dribble seep into the bulging bicep around your neck. You’re feeling the sappy drag of his long tongue down those puddled splatters of spittle, “Talk to me…tell me…complain about how big I am- I know you want to.”

You’re gasping when he’s leaving a pretty stinging smack! against your treacly cunt, muscular thighs shuffling against your own like a second skin. “I want…”

Every garbling syllable of your pretty voice making him twitch. Depraved. “Mhm—?”

“All of it- More.”

More?

CRASH!

Shit- maybe if you were in any better state of mind you’d have noticed how the flickering yellow lamp at your bedside shatters into a zillion pieces. And how Gojo was much the same. 

Slamming one dexterous free palm down onto the already-splintered headboard, you’re catching it crack underneath his vice-like clasp when Gojo hitches his breath and pushes. Wordless. Keening. Mean maw slacking parted with a low ah! ah! ah! at the sweltering hot pulse of his ever-hardening cock.

“S-Satoru did you just get-” bigger. It’s the word you can’t bring yourself to utter even if you wanted to - because Gojo’s swatting his doughy palm to entrap your whiny words. 

Hiding your watery sobs when his engorged dick ravines past the adhesive-like grip of your slick-flooded entrance to perk up even harder. 

Rasping, “Shhhh sh sh- Another word outta you n’ m’gonna cum.” Entire herculean body hitching - shuddering - to pin you to the velvety sheets like he was practically melting into you. You’re sandwiched into the sweaty glissade of his rugged washboard abs. Jolting at the miniscule lightnings of blue that bolt from his lazily lidded eyes, “Tell me how badly ya want the hngh- biiiig stretch, sweetheart.”

So embarrassing, “I-I want the…biiig stretch, Satoru.”

He’s humming with utter delight, “Louder- more.”

“Please.” Legs kicking in impatience, “I want it- w-want your hck! biiig stretch, Toru. Want it so bad-”

“Then, b-brace yourself…heh.”

Something’s cracking - breaking - only hours and hours later do you realize that it’s your poor mahogany bedframe underneath Gojo’s utter strength. 

Knuckles whitening when one sickly sweet rut has his toned abs careening into your mounds of flesh. And that tight little bout of resistance makes him stutter out a hiss, teeth clenching. “Christ, s’fuckin’ tight- n-need more.”

You words had done such a number on him. 

And Gojo wanted more - needed it. More more more-

With a sopping pap! Gojo’s sludging his hefty length out from your elastic hole, purposefully peaking his inflated veins against those treasure troves of your tender spots. Emanating out such a sinful squelch! of wiry slick-filled slurps the moment his globular crownhead is popping out of your gooey cunt. 

“L-look downwards, my girl-” he’s mumbling, tongue slurring those pesky little whines into his words. And oh, Gojo himself can’t bear to spy his ravenous gaze down below because of that dangerous little high building up at his tight, nudging balls. Can’t bear to do anything but let his sapphire gaze droop half shut. 

Tumbling your head down, “Toru what do you- oh!”

Gojo was so fucking needy. That mouthwateringly sculptured arm around your neck taking its second favorite position to warp around his sweltering hot cock and squeeze. 

You can only watch when he’s beading out wispy little ropes of precum that gloss your pussy lips a creamy white. Connecting delicate little ropes of your sweet, sweet juices to his bawling cockhead.

It was soiling his hand ivory, his wrist, his cloudy happy trail - he was being so messy. 

“Yeah- see this? Take a loooong hah- hard look, sweetheart. Yer gonna take this entire c-cock, m’kay–?” Gojo’s nuzzling his sweat-glimmered cheek down your down, stray strands of white sticking to your skin. Pumping his fist harder - harder. He’s scooping up a syrupy few dredges of sap to poke into your awe-struck mouth, “Gonna take i-it all. No matter how big- mhm?”

You’re whining when his intimidating length nestles between your thighs and pulses, the very brim of his curved tip swiping a sweltering hot drag of pre about half-way down your tummy. The size difference looked so sinful.

And you’re barely nodding - barely whimpering out a polite yes, please - before your mind shatters with the feeling of being split-apart. With every hidden nook and cranny caverning your sloppy pussy being stretched to the max.

“Yeah- yeah yeah c’mon-” Gojo’s begging. Pearly white teeth digging into his pulpy lower lip when his blushing shaft fringes down your clingy walls. “Go inside- fit- please- need ta give m-my girl everythin’.”

Needed - not wanted. 

Gojo doesn’t even have to try for his left-leaning curve to locate your most coveted spots, spurting out waterfalling little geysers of slick from between your thighs with every gulping inch.

“Oh- oh mmpf!” You’re mewling when his furious divot mashes into your nearby g-spot. Easily. Too easily that you’re half-wondering whether he’s using his Six Eyes. “It’s s-shoo deep.”

You’re being jostled in a sultry dance back and forth when Gojo’s planting rummaging pound after pound just to fit inside. The slamming smack! smack! smack! of his muscular thighs imprinting against the backs of yours fucking out each and every coherent thought out of your mind. 

And with absolutely no hesitation, he’s skimming numerous buzzing fingertips from one hand over to toy around your clit and pinch. Barely even realizing the startling spark of jujutsu that makes you yelp-

“Toru- wh-what did we say about…” Shrilling shrieks withering away on your tongue when- what were you complaining about again? Gojo’s incredible inches sheath their cozy way into your gummy cunt - fully. “O-oh.”

Oh was right. 

Because he had finally bottomed-out. Finally. Gasping at the sudden thud! of those ladder-like abs smooching the pretty curve of your ass. The bouncing recoil of his swollen cockhead against your pulpy cervix. Gojo can’t help but run his hands over your jiggling flesh to make sure - to register that this was real. 

Having your slobbery pussy wrapped around every needy inch of him? This must be a dream.

He’s struggling to catch his breath, gulps sounding high. Thumbing apart your sodden pussyflaps, Gojo’s rich baritone hitches adorably. “You- yer really m-milkin’ my entire fuckin’ cock…” 

Bleary eyes snapping open and veering pathetically cross-eyed, Gojo’s snowy brows scrunch achingly together when both stumbling hands latch onto your waist and pounces a harsh thrust. Thickened, hefty balls swatting your clit heavily. Once. Twice. 

And the third - barely even a swirling gyration of his slicked-up cock drilling into the spongy flesh of your cervix before he cums. Cums and cums so hard that it feels like copious orgasms upon orgasms piling all into one.

Feeling like he was bursting - just like the wreckage of generators across all twenty-three special wards in Tokyo this very second. Electricity flickering, Gojo’s eyes glowing, and you two don’t even notice the way the bed crashes! down onto the carpeted floors as if it had been hovering a slight inch.

“W-wait tha’s cheating-” he’s puffing out furiously, but he can’t stop. Luscious ounces of seed gumdropping out from his divot to laminate your poor cervix - no doubt battered and bruised at this point. A fat thumb of his caps your leaky slit with the voluminous dredges of splattering cum gushing haplessly out of you. “This is s’pposed to s-stay inside, sweetheart.”

It was too much - you were overfilled to the very brim of your glistening pussy folds. 

But Gojo didn’t sound upset - not in the slightest.

No, in fact, he was smiling. 

Cerulean pupils molding practically heart-eyed, a burning blush washes over those handsome cheeks and all the way down to his still-twitching, still-hard cock- “Sooooo…marry me?”

♡ HIGURUMA HIROMI - 8.89 inches

“S’for your own good, angel.”

“B-but, Hiromi–” Oh, you were already winning - and you knew it - you’re feeling that perky little dab of syrupy pre that butters up your insides. Just the mere sound of your voice enough to make Higuruma twitch, “I want you now.”

To make him jolt, to make him sigh. 

Long, dextrous fingers of his tightening around that vice-like little restraint of his tie shackled around your neck - just the scratchy dig of that velvety fabric into your tender flesh makes you lightheaded. 

“I already told ya.” Higuruma’s sighing, sleepy eyes peaking up at where your trembly figure was riding the fucking soul out of him. Or, at least, was supposed to. “Don’t want ya hah- hurtin’ yerself the first time ya take me, don’t want my girl’s pussy sore.”

But what you were aching for right now was him. 

Bucking your hips in a stubborn little up and down that makes his thin lips curl, canines bared. Feral. “Fine- slutty angel.”

And you barely have the time to process his words - to process the stinging sensation of his formal office tie constricting around your throat. Before Higuruma’s dragging you down with a thorough flick of his wrist, leveraging the merciless tightrope of his tie to feed your needy cunt inch by fucking inch. 

He’s not stopping when you gasp, not even when big, globular bouts of tears lather your lashes dripping wet. Only pulling you to him like some glorified sex toy- 

“H-Hiromi-” your clammy palms clasp around his pale, bulging biceps to squeeze. Spine arching at the way his staggering size was opening you so deliciously.

“Mhmmm, m’here m’here. Biiig stretch, isn’t it?” Bouncing those bulky, muscular hips of his with years upon years of practice in battle. And right now you were on the receiving end of his ruthlessness, your pussy lips being smeared agape at the hefty cylindrical shaft being bullied into you. “Easy there, girl. Easy. You can take m-my ngh- big cock.”

And Higuruma barely even had to try to get you all shattered on his cock like this was. Because his cock? The absolute prize of your wettest dreams. 

He was so thick and long, nearing nine inches that bumped his throbbing walls in a lewd little massage down your precious treasure trove of sweet spots. That left-leaning angle of his curvature was so droolworthy, meshing a sodden French kiss easily against the bullseye of your g-spot.

But what had you spellbound - what had you so dizzy - right now wasn’t just the stretch. No, it was that tiny, orbing little piercing studded right underneath Higuruma’s deeply indented slit. 

“Hey, doin’ ah- good, angel?” The chilling patch of his metal stud wrenching out the cutest little whimpers from your heated mouth, falling further and further slack with every pretty peck. Every tiny swab of his length being overstuffed into you. “Only an inch more- juuust an i-inch more n’ I want ngh- you to milk it for me.”

“M-me?” You’re pointing at yourself, as if there was anyone else here in this heady bedroom.

“Tha’s right-” Blinking away the clingy film of lust surrounding your eyes, you’re finally noticing the air of something instinctually primal in your dear Higuruma’s ravenous gaze. So at odds with the gentle kiss placed onto your prespired forehead. “While I get some hah- work done, angel.”

Your hips tense when he’s reaching out to grab the phone that had been buzzing on the bedside drawer for quite a while now. Only to get jostled into motion once more with a soft swat! planted onto your jiggling ass. 

Turning the flashing screen to emblazon your vision with the name, Shiu Kong (Work) 

Oh?

Oh.

At your filthy nod, Higuruma’s puffing out a shuddered bout of laughter. Before sliding one fat thumb across the screen and answering, “Hello? Shiu?” Head tilting to the side, another manhandling haul of Higuruma’s massive palm keeps you riding him. “Yeah, I can heh- talk right now.”

“S-so mean–” you’re mumbling, thoroughly not expecting for him to hear and punish another smack! against your ass. 

You couldn’t hear the response - you didn’t even realize that the audio could even hear you before he’s babbling on. 

“The meeting- Oh, that? Ah, jus’ my lovely wife.” Gasping, because Higuruma hadn’t proposed…yet. And the way he was sidling your gummy cunt with hefty, vicious pound after pound to lose himself - to melt into your unsteady arms - made you think he just might. Soon. “She’s uh…strugglin’ with somethin’ ya see.”

Fuck- he knew exactly how to make you work. 

But you knew exactly how to work. 

One hand splaying out between the sweaty valley of Higuruma’s plush chest, you’re eyeing with satisfaction as his dark brows raise. Squeezing that overpriced fabric wrapped around his thick fingers to muffled your leaking whimpers - to choke-

Only for his sharp jaw to fall parted, breath hitching when you jerk your fatigued thighs and ride. Deeper. Sloppier. Further and further until with a heaving shudder your ass smacks against his with a ringing pap!

Loud. 

Undeniable. 

His hefty breeder balls colliding into the jiggling curve of your ass, Higuruma’s massive cock embedding a few perfectly rounded bruises into the back of your pulpy cervix. Streaking a lazy line drawn by his bulbed piercing across each and every sweeping fissure inside you. Once. Twice. 

Again and again-

“A-ah, what?” He’s bumbling absent-mindedly into the speaker, and you’ve never seen him sound so shaky before. Deep baritone cracking into a few whimpering cracks towards the end when one of his thumbs swipe your puffed-up pussylips to take a long look at that heavenly sight. “Oh…oh yeah. My wife- sh-she got it…finally.”

And it’s only when you’re drawing out the most whipped splatters of slicked pre, when you’re steadying your precarious hands onto his sculptured biceps and slamming a sloppy cadence. Humming, “Y-yeah. Real cute, isn’t she?”

Only when Higuruma looks like he’s on the very verge of ending the call that you’re musing how Shiu must know already.

That blasphemous question on the very tip of your tongue before Higuruma’s attractive eyes widen, chuckling out at words exchanged over the phone that you couldn’t make out. Yet. 

“Oh?” Yeah, Shiu totally knew. Dark eyes boring right into your heart-eyed depths, and when you nod he’s cracking a smile. Pussydrunk. “Mhm, sure, we can videocall.”

A/N. HIGURUMA NATION HOW ARE WE FEELING???

the kitchen went completely silent.

you blinked. megumi froze mid-pour, water spilling slightly over the rim of the glass.

yuji wanted to die. he laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “i mean— you don’t have to! it’s just… i keep thinking about it. the two of you together. it makes me feel… really warm. and kind of crazy. in a good way.”

he looked between you and megumi, eyes wide and cheeks flushed all the way to his ears. “i know it’s weird,” he added quickly, voice getting smaller. “but i can’t stop thinking about it. you both mean so much to me… and the idea of you two kissing… it doesn’t feel wrong to me. it feels… right.”

he stared at the floor, heart pounding, terrified he’d just ruined everything. you and megumi exchanged a long look. yuji swallowed.

“…sorry,” he mumbled. “i shouldn’t have said anything.”

the silence that followed was deafening. yuji wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole. his face was burning, ears bright red as he stared intensely at the kitchen floor. you and megumi were both staring at him.

megumi’s expression was unreadable at first but then his eyes widened just slightly, a faint flush creeping up his neck.

you were the first to speak. “…you want us to kiss?” you asked softly.

yuji nodded quickly, too embarrassed to look at either of you. “i know it sounds crazy. but i keep thinking about it. the two of you… together. it doesn’t make me jealous. it makes me feel… warm. really warm. like my chest is going to explode in a good way.”

he finally dared to glance up. megumi was looking at him now, dark eyes steady but clearly processing. you stepped closer and gently took yuji’s hand.

“babe,” you said carefully, “are you sure that’s what you want? you’re not just saying it because you think it’ll make us happy?”

yuji shook his head. “no. i mean— yes, I want you both to be happy. but… i really do want to see it. i’ve been dreaming about it. not just innocent stuff either.”

the last part came out as a mumble. megumi’s eyebrows shot up.

you bit your lip, clearly thinking. then you looked over at megumi, a small, curious smile forming on your face. “what do you think, megumi?”

megumi stayed quiet for a long moment. finally, he set the glass down and exhaled through his nose. “…i wouldn’t mind,” he said quietly, almost too casually. but the faint pink on his cheeks betrayed him.

yuji’s heart skipped several beats.

you turned back to yuji, still holding his hand. “if we do this… you’re okay with it? no weird feelings afterwards?”

yuji nodded so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash. “i promise. i just… i want to watch. at least once.”

the air in the kitchen felt heavier now, warmer. you glanced at megumi again, then back at your boyfriend. slowly, you stepped toward megumi, who straightened up, looking slightly tense but not unwilling.

you placed a hand on megumi’s chest and leaned in. megumi hesitated for half a second before tilting his head down. then your lips met softly.

it was gentle at first—careful, almost testing. but then megumi’s hand came up to rest lightly on your waist, and the kiss deepened just a little. you made a quiet sound against his mouth that sent electricity shooting down yuji’s spine.

yuji couldn’t look away. his breath caught in his throat, heart hammering wildly as he watched his girlfriend kiss his best friend right in front of him.

when you finally pulled back, both you and Megumi were slightly flushed. you turned to look at yuji, his eyes sparkling. “…how was that?” you asked softly.

yuji stared at the two of you, lips parted, face burning crimson. he could only manage one breathless word: “…again.”

the kitchen fell quiet for a moment once more. you and megumi both froze, eyes meeting each other in a brief pause. a silent question passed between you. megumi’s grip on your waist tightened slightly, but he didn’t move, waiting. your heart hammered in your chest as you searched his face.

then, slowly, megumi leaned in again.

you met him halfway.

this time the kiss was deeper, with more hunger, like he had been holding back for too long. his fingers pressed into your waist as he tilted his head, sliding his tongue against yours with surprising boldness. a soft, surprised sound left your throat, which only seemed to encourage him.

he kissed you like he was starving.

his other hand came up to cup the side of your neck, thumb brushing your jaw as he pulled you closer. the kiss grew hotter, wetter. megumi made a quiet noise against your mouth, almost a groan, as he sucked gently on your bottom lip before slipping his tongue back in.

yuji’s breath hitched loudly. he couldn’t look away. his face was burning as he watched his best friend kiss you like he wanted to devour you—slow, deep, and getting greedier with every second.

megumi pressed you back against the counter, his body flush against yours. one of his hands slid down to grip your hip, pulling you tighter as the kiss turned messy, completely lost in it now while yuji was breathing hard, eyes wide.

his cock strained painfully against his sweatpants, throbbing with every wet sound of your lips moving together. he couldn’t stop the flood of thoughts crashing through his mind.

he wished megumi would push you harder against the counter. he wished he’d slide his hand under your shirt and grope your tits the way yuji had imagined so many times. he wanted to see megumi bite your neck, suck marks into your skin, shove his thigh between your legs and grind against you until you were whimpering and soaked.

the thought made yuji’s mouth go dry. he imagined megumi dropping to his knees right there in the kitchen, pulling your shorts down and burying his face between your thighs while you moaned into yuji’s mouth. he wanted to watch his best friend make you cum, fingers deep inside you, tongue licking greedily at your clit.

“fuck…” yuji whispered under his breath, barely audible. his hand unconsciously pressed against his aching cock, trying to ease some of the pressure as he watched megumi kiss you deeper, hungrier.

he loved this. loved seeing you like this—flushed, wanted, desired. especially by megumi. his two favorite people.

when megumi finally pulled back for air, his lips were red and swollen and his breathing uneven. he stared at your mouth like he wanted to kiss you again immediately.

“megumi…” you whispered, dazed.

he didn’t answer with words. instead he leaned in and kissed you once more, slower this time but no less intense, like he was savoring the taste of you. his hand stayed possessively on your hip while the other gently held your face.

when megumi pulled away again, he rested his forehead against yours for a moment, eyes closed, breathing shakily. “…that was—” he began but couldn’t finish. you let out a soft, breathless laugh.

yuji could barely speak. all he managed was a weak, awed whisper: “holy shit…” his heart was pounding so hard he felt dizzy and his cock was aching, pressing painfully against his sweatpants.

“megumi…” yuji’s voice came out rough. “don’t stop.” both you and megumi turned to look at him. “touch her more. please. i want to see you touch her. like… between her legs. i keep thinking about it. i want to see you make her cum.”

both you and megumi froze for a second. but megumi hesitated only for a moment before his gaze darkened. without a word, he looked back at you, silently asking for permission. when you gave a small, breathless nod, he didn’t waste time.

he brought two fingers to his mouth, licking them slowly, coating them with saliva while keeping his eyes on you. then his hand slid down your stomach and pushed boldly into your shorts and panties. his long, slick fingers found your soaked folds and rubbed over your clit before pressing two fingers inside you.

you gasped, immediately clinging to his shoulders. megumi leaned in and kissed you again, swallowing every sound as his fingers began moving—slow at first, then deeper, curling just right inside your tight heat.

“mmh—!” you moaned into his mouth, panting against his lips as he fingered you right there in the kitchen. the wet sound of his fingers thrusting in and out of your soaked pussy filled the small space.

yuji let out a needy groan at the sight. his hand shoved into his sweatpants, wrapping around his aching cock as he started stroking himself. his eyes were glued between your legs, watching the silhouette of megumi’s fingers disappear inside you again and again.

“fuck… that’s so hot,” yuji whispered. he pumped his cock faster, breathing heavily as he watched you whimper and squirm against megumi. “megumi… curl your fingers more. she likes it when you hit that spot.”

megumi obeyed without question, curling his fingers deeper, rubbing that sensitive spot inside you like he’d already done it a million times. you cried out into his mouth, thighs trembling as you clenched hard around his fingers.

yuji’s hand moved quicker on his own cock, eyes half-lidded in pure bliss as he watched his best friend finger his girlfriend right in front of him.

“good girl…” yuji murmured breathlessly, completely lost in the scene. “let him make you cum, baby. i want to see it so bad.”

you cried out into megumi’s mouth, thighs shaking violently as his fingers curled perfectly against that sensitive spot inside you. the pressure built fast and overwhelming until you finally snapped.

“megumi—!” you moaned loudly, clenching hard around his fingers as your orgasm crashed through you. your hips jerked against his hand, pussy pulsing and gushing around his long digits while he kept stroking you through it, drawing out every last wave.

the moment your orgasm started to fade, megumi pulled his fingers out with a wet sound. before you could even catch your breath, he dropped to his knees right in front of you.

he yanked your shorts and panties down to your ankles. you barely had time to gasp before his mouth was on you, hot and eager. his tongue dragged slowly up your soaked folds before latching onto your sensitive clit.

“ah—! megumi— too much!” you whimpered, legs trembling as you gripped the counter for support.

but he didn’t stop. he sucked gently on your clit, then flicked his tongue rapidly over it, groaning against your pussy like he was addicted to your taste. the overstimulation hit you like electricity, making your hips twitch and jerk against his face. every stroke of his tongue sent sharp, overwhelming sparks through your body.

yuji was completely dizzy.

his hand was still wrapped tightly around his cock, stroking himself in shaky movements as he stared with wide, glassy eyes. the sight of his best friend on his knees, face buried between your thighs, licking and sucking on your oversensitive clit while you moaned and shook was almost too much for him to handle.

“fuck… megumi…” yuji breathed, voice hoarse and awed. his head felt light, cheeks burning crimson as he watched megumi devour you. “she’s so sensitive right now… look at her…”

megumi hummed against your clit in response, the vibration making you sob. he pressed his tongue flat against you, licking broad strokes before sucking on your clit again, completely lost in making you feel good.

yuji’s hand moved faster on his cock, breathing ragged as he watched your thighs tremble around megumi’s head. he looked completely drunk on the sight.

“you’re both so hot…” yuji whispered. “don’t stop, megumi… please don’t stop.”

then megumi pulled his mouth away from your dripping pussy. he rose to his feet, breathing heavily. without a word, he unbuckled his belt and pushed his pants and boxers down just enough to free his hard cock. it slapped against his stomach, flushed and leaking. you barely had time to catch your breath before he stepped close again, lifting one of your legs around his waist.

“shh,” he whispered against your ear as he lined himself up.

then he pushed in.

a loud moan started to leave your lips as he stretched you open in one smooth thrust, but megumi quickly covered your mouth with his hand, muffling the sound. his palm pressed firmly against your lips while he sank deeper, burying himself to the hilt.

your eyes rolled back at the sudden fullness.

at the exact same moment, yuji let out a choked groan. the sight of megumi’s cock disappearing inside you was too much for him. his hand stuttered on his cock as his orgasm hit him like a freight train.

“f-fuck—!” yuji whimpered, thighs shaking as thick ropes of cum spilled over his fist and onto his stomach. he kept stroking himself through it, eyes glued to where megumi was buried deep inside you.

his vision started to blur. the edges of the kitchen grew hazy, like he was looking through fogged glass, but he could still see megumi’s hips snapping forward, burying his cock deep inside you with every thrust. he could see the way your body jolted, your tits bouncing, your mouth open against megumi’s palm as you moaned helplessly.

more and more cum leaked out around megumi’s cock with every deep stroke, dripping down your thighs in shiny streaks. the sound of it echoed in yuji’s ears—the obscene squelch of megumi’s cock sliding through your soaked, cum-filled pussy.

yuji was barely able to focus anymore. everything felt like a fever dream. the only thing he could see clearly was megumi’s thick cock plunging in and out of you, pushing his own cum deeper inside your body with every thrust. more white leaked out, sliding down your skin, dripping onto the kitchen floor.

his hand kept moving on his cock, slow and sloppy now, milking every last drop as he watched the scene in front of him like it was the only thing real anymore.

yuji was panting hard, chest heaving, completely lost in the sight of his best friend fucking his girlfriend while his own cum continued to spill uselessly over his fingers. he never wanted it to end.

but then everything shattered.

yuji’s eyes snapped open.

he was in his own bed, chest heaving, body covered in a thin layer of sweat. his heart was pounding violently as reality slowly sank in.

it had been another dream.

just a dream.

his cock was still twitching weakly, completely spent. he could feel the warm, sticky mess inside his boxers and sweatpants. he had cum hard in his sleep again. the front of his pants was soaked through.

yuji groaned softly, throwing one arm over his face. his cheeks burned as the images from the dream flashed through his mind: megumi’s hand over your mouth, the way you moaned against his palm, the wet sound of megumi thrusting into you…

“fuck…” he whispered to himself.

he lay there for a long moment, staring at the ceiling. the ache in his chest was back. his two favorite people. the thought of you two together made him feel so full and so filthy at the same time.

he slowly sat up, wincing at the cold, wet feeling in his pants. another ruined pair. this was becoming a problem.

he wondered if he would ever have the courage to tell you and megumi the truth. if he would ever stop just dreaming about it… and actually ask.

for now, he just sighed, peeling off his ruined sweatpants with a tired, embarrassed little smile. “this is getting ridiculous…” he muttered. but deep down, he already knew he’d probably dream about it again tomorrow.

his hand slides down and presses firmly against the bulge, feeling the shape of his own cock through your soft skin. the sensation makes him groan low in his throat—the only crack in his cool facade.

“fuck…” he mutters under his breath, barely audible.

he’s completely fixated now. every time he bottoms out, he watches the way your belly swells with his cock, mesmerized. his usual calm and steady rhythm is gone, replaced by something rougher and more possessive. his hips snap against yours with more and more intensity, chasing that view that makes his brain melt.

you’re trembling beneath him, overwhelmed by how deep he’s getting. “megumi… it’s too much— i can feel you so deep—”

“good,” he replies. his hand stays pressed against your tummy, pushing down gently so he can feel himself even better. “i want you to feel all of me.”

he leans down, forehead pressed against yours, eyes still glued to the way your stomach bulges every time he drives into you. his breathing is ragged now, control slipping further with every thrust.

“you look so good like this,” he admits quietly, almost shyly, even as he fucks you harder. “seeing my cock inside you… fuck, i can’t stop looking.”

megumi’s thrusts turn punishing, hips slamming into you as he loses himself in the sight. the usually controlled boy is gone—replaced by someone completely addicted to the way your body yields to him, marked so visibly by his cock.

he presses down on your belly again, eyes dark with lust. “take me deeper,” he whispers against your lips. “i want to see how much you can take.”