show me your teeth
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show me your teeth
this was the first thing i opened tumblr to this morning... today will be a good day :)

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
family outing | t. fushiguro
authors note: happy holidays freaks.
summary: toji decides to take his pretty little stepdaughter out for a picnic
pairing: toji fushiguro x stepdaughter!reader
wc: 4k
warnings: smut under the cut + dark content (stepcest) + public sex + spitting + pussy/ass eating + mating press + breeding kink + comparison + dumbification + dacryphilia + ‘daddy’ + creampie + overstimulation + infidelity + praise + degrading + squirting + age gap (15 years) + slut shaming + lmk if i missed anything mwah
others: inspired by these videos: 1 2, unedited
i wanna freak you baby in every freakin' way
perverted boyfriend toji who would wake up hard against your ass and just stay there, breathing heavy into your hair like a creep, not even trying to hide how bad he wants it. "shit... you smell like sex even when you're sleepin'," he'd say hand sliding down slow to cup your pussy over your panties just to feel the heat.
toji who would feel that tiny hitch and know you’re up, so he waits before hooking one finger under the edge of your panties and tugging them aside slow. spreads your lips with his thumb and middle finger, "look at this greedy little thing already shiny for me."
he then brings it up to his mouth and suck it clean, eyes half-lidded staring at you like you're his personal porn. when he sees your thighs parting, he smirks around his finger because he knows deep down you're just as much of a freak as he is.
toji who would roll you onto your back gentle. he hovers close, nose brushing your folds inhaling deep like he’s high off it, "fuckin’ obsessed with this smell… could sniff this pussy all day."
his tongue drags one long lazy stripe from your hole to your clit, pauses to watch it swell and throb under his stare. he does it again slower, spit mixing with your wetness until it’s all glossy and messy strings connect his lips to you.
toji who would pull back just to spit right on your clit, watches it drip slow down your slit, then smears it around with his thumb in tiny circles that make your breath stutter, "you like?"
toji who would line his cock up while you’re hazy and needy, rubs the fat leaking head through your folds over and over, coating every inch of himself, "feel how fuckin’ hard you make me? that’s all you baby…every time i see this cunt i wanna live inside it." keeps teasing the entrance, tip catching and popping out ‘til you’re whining. finally sinks in inch by inch, groaning low and filthy the whole slide.
"tight… so fuckin’ tight… gonna stay buried here ‘til i can’t think straight." you gasp, nails digging into his shoulders, body arching to take him deeper.
toji who would rock slow once he’s balls-deep, just filthy little grinds so his pubes drag over your clit every circle.
"gonna keep you drippin’ my cum all day, want you walkin’ around feelin’ me leak outta this hole. my nasty little cumdump." he kisses you sloppy tasting himself on you again. you kiss back just as messy, moaning into his mouth, thighs squeezing his hips like you never want him to pull out.
toji who would pull out right at the edge, jerks himself fast over your stomach watching thick ropes splatter hot across your skin. smears it in with his palm rubbing circles like it’s lotion while you pant under him, "there marked you up nice. don’t wash it off ‘til i say, kayy?"
toji who would flop down beside you still half-hard, hand sliding right back between your legs to pet your messy swollen pussy, fingers idly circling your clit just to keep you sensitive. you sigh shaky, legs falling open wider for him, turning your face into his neck while he keeps lazily playing with your cumslick folds like he’s got nowhere else to be.
ㅤㅤ✧ ㅤ๋𓏸ㅤ 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃! 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈ㅤ notices how much you love being tossed around .
𝒘𝐚𝐫𝐧𝓲𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝜗ৎ explicit sexual contentㅤmanhandlingㅤrough sexㅤmultiple creampiesㅤoverstimulationㅤdirty talkㅤcervix smoochingㅤsquirtingㅤsize kink .
𝓁𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝓁𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀⠀⠀⠀✶ ◌ ﹒ got inspo from something i witnessed at school , bye.
a vulgar cacophony of obscene moans echoes throughout the paper-thin walls of your apartment—once, twice, three times in a row—at the same time as your husband’s mean thrusts collide against the supple fat of your ass cheeks with hot abandon.
thick, creamy globs of his previous two loads are being churned right back into your cunt with every filthy roll of his hips—so loud that the very sound of them is almost enough to drown out the pathetic little whimpers your pretty mouth’s letting escape. toji’s certainly not giving you a break, overworking your pussy over and over with each time he pulls back even half an inch, only to immediately bully his way right back in with a wet smack! that makes your toes curl against the sheets.
he’s got you folded in that disgusting way he knows destroys you—knees shoved up near your ears, your own arms trapped uselessly underneath his form, back arched so severely it feels like your spine might snap. and still he leans over you heavier, broader, caging you in with his massive frame. hot breath fanning across your cheek when he murmurs,
“mmh—look at her…” he drawls, voice all gravel and smoke. two massive hands clamp down on the meat of your hips, yanking you back onto his cock so hard your vision whites out for a second. “still fuckin’ greedy after I painted her insides white twice.”
you can barely answer his smug remark with the way your swollen pussy lips cling to his veiny shaft, fluttering and sucking in the fat ridge of his cockhead—deep, deep, deep inside—so it can kiss lovingly the sweet spot right at the end of your cervix.
but well, it’s not like he’s giving you the option to formulate words either. it seems as if he’s only allowing you to articulate the broken little ah!, ah!, ah!’s that his needy dick punches directly out of your lungs just to… y'know, feel a little bit smugger than before about it.
“thought you wanted to play-fight, mama?” his rough voice cuts short amidst the lascivious, wet sounds of your bodies slamming together. “thought my lil’ wife was finally gonna beat my ass today, huh?” a sharp, filthy thrust punctuates the taunt, his drooling slit kissing your cervix so deep you feel it in your throat.
your half-lidded eyes meet his through this heavy state of cockdrunkness in which he’s gotten you into in less than an hour, only to find an amused expression painted in his handsome features at how much you seem to be struggling to speak as you take his hefty cock.
“I—ngh-! you fuckin’—ah! bastard…” the string of curses you’re about to throw at him is suddenly interrupted by the smooth movement of his thick index and middle fingers stuffing your mouth full, successfully shutting you up and drawing out a needy whimper instead. the way you immediately begin to suck on them makes it clear you’re far from bothered—if anything, it’s the opposite. still, there’s a pretty frown tugging at your expression, one he can’t help but want to deepen with a few more teasing comments. asshole.
“cat got your tongue, baby?” he rasps, voice wrecked and dripping with that dark amusement that always makes your clit throb. “s-shit—fuckin’ listen to her…” his hips piston once again, ruddied tip dragging all the way in and out of your feverish insides. “she’s talkin’ more than you are, ma. got a s-sloppy fuckin’ mouth down there just gulpin’ me back in, huh?”
“s-shut up! don’t say it like—o-ohh…” the firmness of his muscular washboard abs contrasts deliciously against the smoothness of your skin, scraping your poor, abused nipples with his cushiony pecs in a oh-so-heavenly way that has your fingers scrabbling uselessly at his veiny forearms, trying pull him even closer and ground yourself simultaneously.
but to your dismay, he pulls out halfway (both fingers and cock), letting a fat rope of cum mixed with your own slick stretch between his tip and your gaping hole like a lewd spiderweb, before it suddenly snaps and drips down your ass crack in sticky rivulets, quickly reaching your other puckered and neglected hole begging to be creamed as much as your gooey walls have been for the last fifty minutes.
you whine—high and broken—twitching up your hips on instinct, chasing the warmth and fullness that his fat dick provided your teary cunt.
“nuh-huh,” he clicks his tongue. “look at this mess first.” he hooks two thick fingers into the messy rim of your pussy and spreads you obscenely wider, baring you to his hungry eyes so he can watch the way his seed oozes out in slow, creamy pulses. your poor overstimulated clit is throbbing visibly, shiny and angry-red, proudly peeking out from its hood and begging for an ounce of his love.
the blush adorning your cheeks deepens even more with the way your husband was ogling, with almost heart-shaped eyes, your most intimate parts. “mmmfffph—s-stop staring, you perv!”
“look how swollen she is.” ignoring your whiny reprimand, he keeps staring at the absolutely depraved sight in front of him. “been cryin’ for dick all damn day, huh?” he thumbs over your clit once—just once—rough enough to make your whole body seize. “bet she’s been leakin’ through your panties since breakfast. dirty fuckin’ wife.”
you shake your head in a fervent no even as your hips buck into his hand like a desperately little thing—which only serves to elicit an evil chuckle from his chest. “liar.”
and then he’s shoving back in one brutal thrust, bottoming-out so hard it forces another wet gush of cum to bubble out around his base and trickle down to your asshole. one hand abandons your hip just so he can wrap those long, scarred fingers around the front of your throat, holding you there, letting you know how easily he could just squeeze and cut off your source of oxygen.
“been noticin’ it for months, y’know.” he drags out slow this time, the feeling of his sturdy inches sliding through the creamy mess he’s already left behind making your eyes roll to the back of your head. “every time I-I toss ya around on the couch—mmhm… pin ya… manhandle ya like my-haah—little fuckdoll…” another lazy, punishing grind against your g-spot. “—this pussy gets so fuckin’ sloppy for me.”
his words do nothing but make your sloppy hole dribble a fresh gush of slick down his balls as a keen moan reaches his ears, and toji groans at the feeling of your juices wetting so cutely his veiny shaft.
“fuck—there she goes again.” he pulls almost all the way out just to watch how your cunt tries to suck him back in, clinging and clenching down on him. “look at that. she’s cryin’ for it. she fuckin’ loves me, baby.”
and then he slams home.
hard.
your whole body jolts up the mattress; a strangled scream rips out of you before you can stop it. “good girl,” he husks against the shell of your ear, lips brushing sweat-damp skin and nibbling softly. “scream louder f’me. let the neighbors know exactly who’s ruinin’ this pretty hole.”
you’re shaking now—thighs trembling, belly tight, clit so swollen even the slightest drag of his coarse pubic hair against it makes you sob. and he feels it, he fucking feels it, the way it fucks with your to hear how good he’s dicking you down like this.
suddenly, both hands are gripping underneath your knees again, folding you even tighter and opening you wider. the new angle has his cock bullying straight into that spot that makes your brain melt out your ears. “shitshitshit—right there, ma?” he’s grinning now. “yeahhh… that’s the spot my wife loves gettin’ rearranged.”
every filthy word of his is punctuated with a deep, punishing slam.
“love gettin’ thrown around.”
thrust.
“love when I pin ya down.”
thrust.
“love when your big strong husband uses all his fuckin’ strength just to fuck you stupid.”
thrust.
at this point, you’re utterly gone. drooling, hiccuping and babbling his name between broken moans while he jackhammers into you, still yapping and barking lewd phrases cause toji fushiguro seems to be unable to shut the fuck up when he’s balls-deep in his wife.
“gonna give ya another load, okay?” he pants, voice starting to fray at the edges. “gonna s-stuff this greedy cunt so—a-aah-! full it’ll be leakin’ me for days. so every time ya sit down… every time ya try to walk… you’ll feel me.”
your nails dig crescents into his biceps, chanting series of oh’s and ah’s as a knot forms in your tummy. “‘m close—toji—please—”
“mmmph—I know, baby, I know” he starts fucking you harder now, deeper, meaner. every slam forward punches a wet gluck-gluck-gluck out of your overstuffed cunt. your tits bounce wildly with each impact, and the sight has him ducking his head to catch a nipple between his teeth to bite—not gently—hard enough to make you scream around the drool leaking from the corner of your mouth.
“want more, ma? need more?” his words come out muffled, mouth still working around your nipple, sucking and swirling his tongue over the reddened nub as his other hand creeps up to knead the other one.
but seeing your inability to respond, given how fucked out you were, he shifts, hooking your legs over his shoulders so deep your knees are brushing your own damn ears; and then he really lays into you. cock pistoning so hard the headboard starts slamming the wall in rhythm. your cervix feels bruised, battered, kissed over and over by that fat, leaking tip. every time he bottoms out you feel him twitch, feel another spurt of pre leak right against your womb and feed it with his seed of love.
he reaches down between you, finds your clit with two rough fingertips and starts rubbing fast, messy circles, showing no mercy nor buildup, straightforwardly attacking you with just brutal overstimulation.
your whole body locks up, blacking out as yet another scream tears out of you so raw it hurts your throat. and still, he doesn’t stop.
“c’mon—squirt on it. make a fuckin’ mess all over my cock while I fill ya again.”
and you do.
god help you, you do.
a violent gush sprays between you—soaking his abs, his thighs, the cushiony surface of the couch underneath you—while your cunt clamps down like a vice and milks every thick drop of his balls.
“hmmff—jesus… fuckin’ strangling’ me—s-so good.” he slams in one last time, buries himself so deep you swear you feel him in your stomach, and unloads.
hot and endless.
pulse after pulse after pulse flooding your womb until you feel bloated, so fucking much it spills out around his shaft, trickling down your ass in a sticky mess.
a tiny whimper leaves your pretty mouth once you finish milking him dry, gasping for air as your husband collapses over you, heavy and sweaty, reeking of that characteristic post-nut scent. his thick member is still buried in your sensitive hole, twitching faintly with every little clench and flutter of your pussylips.
oh god, you don’t want to look down and see what he did to your body.
“ain’t cleanin’ the mess, y’know?” his rugged voice quickly draws your attention, and a cute frown settles on your previously relaxed expression.
“ah, no! you are cleaning me and the couch.” your hands try, uselessly, to remove his bulky frame from your body and throw a dirty glance at him.
“I wasn’t the one who squirted all over our livin’ room, was I?” with a tired sigh, he rolls over in the tiny space of the couch, feeling with smug satisfaction the dampness present in the very center of its surface.
“don’t you dare to put all the blame on me. it’s your fault too—” but before you can start yelling at him for being an idiot and an asshole, his arms quickly wrap around your middle, dragging you closer ‘til your body is flush against his chest and shuts your mouth with a sloppy, wet smooch on your lips.
“MMMPH! MMFFFPP!” you try to separate from his mouth absolutely devouring yours, tapping his chest insistently and failing to push him.
i don’t think it’s necessary to say that your attempts were useless.
fortunately, after stealing almost all the air of your lungs, he finally pulls back, only to squish together with his big, calloused hand your reddened cheeks. “what does it matter who cleans up? we can always just let it dry and have a cute stain on the sofa, dontcha think, ma?”
⤿ ࣭ 𝐧𝐚𝐯𝐢 › 𝓶𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 .⠀ ⠀𝓽𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 .⠀ ⠀𝓻𝘂𝗹𝗲𝘀 .
𝒗𝐧𝐠𝐞𝓵𝒊𝐬𝐬𝐞 . 𝑐om ㅤ𒀭ㅤ 𝑎𝑙𝑙 rights ℛe͟͟s͟͟e͟͟r͟͟v͟͟e͟͟d͟ ࣭
THE DOG'S DEFIANCE
CHAPTER TWO
EMPRESS F!READER X TOJI FUSHIGURO (AND MENTIONS OF NANAMI, GETO, SUKUNA, SHIU)
SUMMARY in the wake of betrayal, you the goddess finds yourself in toji’s arms his touch both a comfort and a trap, as devotion blurs into possession and pleasure becomes its own form of conquest.
CW smut/nsfw (18+), manipulation and gaslighting, virginity loss/first time, corruption kink, breeding and cum play with impregnation talk, power imbalance between divine empress and male dominance, misandry vs masculinity themes, voyeurism with a wife overhearing, mild violence and blood mention
DISCLAIMER this is a dark work of fanfiction. themes include heavy misandry, manipulation, and sexual degradation. all characters are adults. nothing here reflects real-life consent or relationships. read responsibly. do not steal, copy, or repost.
©️onlypinkslut
the room is too large for your sobs. the vaulted ceilings echo every sound, your grief bouncing back at you until you feel surrounded by your own pain. you lie in your huge princess bed, the silks cold against your skin, crown still heavy on your head, tears running hot down your cheeks. your wives had betrayed you, and you could not understand it. a woman betraying another woman it ripped you apart deeper than the blade that killed megumi.
“how,” your voice cracks into the emptiness, “how can a woman betray her own?”
the doors creak open. you do not give permission, yet he enters.
toji.
not crawling. not kneeling. he walks in like he owns the palace, shoulders broad, chest bare, his body glistening faintly from the bath. water still clings to his skin, beads trailing down carved muscle, his torso thick and cut like a greek statue. his scars only make him more brutal, proof of survival etched into flesh. a white silk towel is slung low around his hips, the fabric straining over the swell beneath. his cock presses against it obscenely, heavy, long, impossible to ignore.
your breath hitches, but you cannot rise. you are too weak with grief.
he does not ask. he comes to your bed, and the mattress sinks beneath his weight as he slides in beside you, the heat of his body swallowing yours. his arm curls around your trembling frame, pulling you into the wall of his chest.
“shhh,” he murmurs, lips brushing your damp cheek, kissing away tears. his voice is low, steady, filled with that dangerous calm. “you cry for women, but even women can betray. even they can falter.”
you shake your head against him, whispering brokenly, “but they are mine.. how could they do this to me..”
his hand slides up, big and rough, cupping your head. he hushes you softly, thumb brushing your temple. “not me. never me. i killed my own son for you. do you understand what that means? i gave up blood, flesh, legacy. all so your throne would be safe.”
he leans forward, kissing your cheeks, your wet lashes, kissing the crown itself. then, slowly, he lifts it from your head. the metal gleams as he sets it aside on the silk sheets.
“you don’t need this,” he whispers, tugging you closer until you’re flush against his chest, your face buried in the heat of his skin. “you need me. your dog, your man, your sword.”
you whimper softly, nodding, helpless under the weight of his words.
the towel shifts. his cock grinds against your hip, hot and swollen, the length of it pressing insistently through the silk. his breath grows heavier, lips dragging down to your ear as he moves his hips slowly, deliberately, letting you feel every inch of him.
“this cock,” he murmurs, voice ragged with hunger, “has been full of love for you since the day you took your mother’s legacy. i watched you rise. i watched you sit on that throne. and i was terrified, terrified that you would bind your womb to another man of royalty, waste your softness on someone unworthy.”
you whimper again, confused, your fingers trembling against his chest. “toji…”
he kisses your mouth then slow, damp, breaking you open. the towel slips lower as he grinds harder, the head of his cock pushing free, sliding against your thigh slick with pre.
“you don’t have to think,” he whispers between kisses, kissing your tears, kissing the corner of your lips. “just let me help you. let me take it all away.”
his hand closes around yours, guiding it to his cock, pressing your palm against the thick shaft, the heat searing. your lips part in shock at how big, how heavy he is.
“see?” his grin is soft, dangerous. “only this. only me. this cock is yours, goddess. it belongs nowhere else. i’ll kill anyone who touches you. i’ll kill anyone who whispers against you. i’ll kill every betrayer and lay their heads at your feet.”
he shifts, rolling over you, the towel slipping fully away, his cock exposed now veined, massive, curved like a weapon and a gift. your eyes widen, tears still wet on your cheeks, your lips trembling as he cages you beneath his body.
his hands stroke your sides gently, soothing, his voice low, coaxing, as if this were comfort, not conquest.
“let me inside,” he whispers, kissing your forehead, kissing your trembling lips again. “let me love you the way no woman, no man ever could. let me prove i am the only one who will never betray.”
you whimper softly, clueless, nodding against his mouth. and toji smiling like a beast who has finally cornered his prey parts your thighs and slides himself into the divine cunt no man has ever touched.
slow, deep, lazy.
soothing, as if he were healing you.
and with every thrust, every kiss to your tears, every word murmured against your skin, he wraps your grief into chains and locks them to his cock.
“only me,” he whispers, filling you deeper, voice breaking. “only my cock. only your dog who became your man.”
his towel is gone. the last veil between you torn away, leaving only the brutal weight of his body above you. his cock presses against your cunt, thick and hot, the head nudging at your folds as if it knows it does not need permission.
you tremble beneath him, tears streaking your face, whispering brokenly, “it’s too much, toji… too big.."
he hushes you, kissing your cheek, kissing the wet line of your tears. his voice is low, steady, soaked in dominance. “shhh. it’s your first time. it’s supposed to hurt. it’s supposed to break you open. but my cock is the only one strong enough to fit here. no other man deserves it.”
and then he pushes.
slow, deliberate, sinking inch by inch into your untouched cunt. the stretch is unbearable, a sharp ache that makes your nails dig into his back, your body arching as if you could escape. but he holds you down, one massive hand pinning your wrists above your head, the other guiding his cock deeper into your virgin heat.
you sob, tears spilling, your lips gasping out whimpers. “toji ahh, it’s too much, please.."
his mouth presses to your ear, his words twisting your cries into submission. “no, goddess. it’s perfect. your pussy was made for me. it was waiting for me. feel it how it grips me, how it cries for me. no one else will ever fill you like this.”
he bottoms out, thick cock buried to the hilt, your womb trembling against the blunt head. you cry out, loud, broken, the sound echoing off the high chamber walls.
his lips curl against your throat as he groans, “fuck… so tight. so untouched. taking me for the first time. i’ll carve my shape into your cunt so deep, no other cock will ever fit.”
he begins to move.
slow, lazy thrusts, dragging his cock out until your walls clutch desperately, then sinking back in until you’re stuffed full, moaning through the pain. his pace is steady, soothing, but each stroke is laced with absolute control. his hips grind into you with dominance, reminding you who owns the body you once swore no man would ever touch.
your tears mix with sweat, your body trembling beneath him as the ache melts into a strange, unbearable pleasure. every thrust scrapes against something deep, every push fills you until your womb feels stretched, conquered.
“cry for me,” he murmurs, kissing your temple, your jaw, the corner of your lips. “cry from the fullness. cry from the truth that no woman, no man, no servant could ever give you this.”
and you do. sobbing as you cling to his back, nails raking down the thick muscles, your legs wrapping around his waist as instinct betrays you and drags him deeper.
he groans, low and guttural, hips rolling slow. “good goddess. take it. take my cock. the strongest cock in this palace. the only cock worthy of your divine cunt.”
you whimper, broken, nodding, lost. “yes… yes, toji…”
his thrusts deepen, grinding until your body shakes, your moans rising higher, the first orgasm tearing through you with violent shock. you scream, tears spilling as your cunt clenches hard around his cock, milking him desperately.
toji groans into your ear, thrusting through your climax, his voice raw with triumph. “that’s it. cum for me. cum on my cock. cry, goddess. let every man, every woman hear you and know you belong to me now.”
he fucks you through it, slow and dominant, until you’re gasping, trembling, your crown abandoned on the sheets and your cunt claimed in the laziest, most brutal way by the cock of the man you once called dog.
his pace never falters. slow, steady, grinding strokes that drag his cock against every trembling inch of your cunt. your body is overwhelmed, stretched wide, the ache drowned in waves of sharp pleasure that make you sob into his shoulder.
his hand never leaves your wrists, pinning them above your head against the silk pillows. the other cups your jaw, thumb swiping away tears as he kisses your wet cheeks.
“good girl,” he murmurs, voice low and steady, “cry for me. cry from being filled. you’re so tight, so holy. my cock was made for this. your womb was waiting for me.”
you moan brokenly, legs locked around his thick waist, your heels digging into the hard muscle of his back. every thrust drags a cry from your throat, every grind pushes deeper into the softness no one has touched before.
“toji ahhh it’s too much..!"
he hushes you, kissing your mouth until your whimpers dissolve into his lips. “shhh. it’s never too much. your goddess cunt was made to stretch for me. only me. no man of royalty, no scheming priest, no servant dog. only me.”
his hips roll heavier, cock throbbing deep, the veins scraping your walls. you feel him swelling, his breath growing ragged.
“fuck,” he groans, pressing his forehead to yours. “gonna cum inside you. gonna bless your womb with the first seed it’s ever known. no one else gets this. no one. only me.”
your body shakes, the words cracking you open more than the thrusts. “n-no, i.."
but your cunt betrays you, clenching, milking him greedily.
he growls, hips slamming flush as his cock pulses deep inside you. the heat floods, thick ropes spilling into your womb, filling you until your stomach feels heavy, until your thighs quiver around his waist.
you cry out, loud and broken, the feeling of being filled for the first time overwhelming you into another orgasm, cunt spasming as you soak the sheets beneath you.
toji groans against your lips, still grinding slow, making sure every drop stays inside. “that’s it. take it. take my cum. your womb belongs to me now. no other man will ever spill here. no woman’s tongue can reach this deep. only my cock. only me.”
he kisses your face, your neck, your damp lashes, whispering as you sob.
“you’re mine, goddess. your crown, your cunt, your womb mine. i’ll kill anyone who betrays you. i’ll kill anyone who even dreams of you. i’ll keep filling you until you forget every other name but mine.”
you whimper, helpless, broken, nodding softly against his chest.
he strokes your hair, soothing, while his cock still twitches inside you, his seed leaking deep into your body.
the crown lies forgotten on the sheets.
and you empress, goddess, virgin no longer cry into his chest as he whispers promises of blood and love into the ear of his new, conquered queen.
your thighs tremble, your cunt still stretched and pulsing around him, but you try to shift, to rise, the instinct to clean yourself clawing up through your shame. his arm tightens around you, pinning you down into the silks. his voice rumbles low against your ear, dangerous and steady.
“don’t,” he whispers, dragging his cock lazily inside you, his seed already leaking down your folds. “don’t wash me out. you’ll keep it. all of it.”
you gasp, your face burning, tears smearing your cheeks. “toji, i… what if what if i get pregnant?”
he laughs under his breath, slow and cruel, grinding his hips forward until the thick head of his cock presses deep against your womb. “then your womb will be mine twice over. you’ll carry me inside you every hour of every day. no court, no wives, no men will ever doubt who owns you when your belly swells with my seed.”
you shiver, crying softly, but his words melt into you, sinking past your resistance like honey over fire.
“don’t be scared,” he murmurs, kissing your temple, licking a tear from your cheek. “you’ll be safe. i’ll kill every man, every woman who tries to touch you. your cunt will never know another cock. your womb will never know another bloodline.”
he begins to move again. slow, heavy thrusts, grinding deep, stuffing his cum back inside you with each lazy push of his hips. your body quivers, overstimulated, the wet squelch obscene as his seed drips from your pussy, down your thighs, staining the silk.
“see how it leaks,” he growls, pulling out just enough for thick white to spill before slamming back in, forcing it higher. “your body tries to waste me, but i won’t let it. i’ll stuff you until you’re dripping for days.”
you cry out, legs locking around his waist, nails clutching at his shoulders. your cunt clenches, aching and messy, the feeling of being bred for the first time tearing another moan from your throat.
behind the door, unheard at first, a soft sob.
one of your wives. she had followed the sound of your cries, pressed her ear against the golden frame, only to hear your broken moans, his filthy promises, the wet squelch of his cock using you. her fingers clutch at her dress, knuckles white, tears streaking her face as she realizes what has been taken from her.
inside, you whimper again, voice breaking. “toji… it’s too much… i can’t.."
he hushes you with a kiss, never stopping the slow grind of his cock. “yes you can. you’re my goddess. you were made to take me. to carry me. to worship me the way your wives never could.”
the sheets are soaked beneath you, his seed smeared down your thighs, but still he moves slow, dominant, endless grinding you into his shape, binding you with cum and control.
and outside, your wife weeps silently, listening to the ruin of her goddess, powerless, jealous, broken.
your bed still smells of him. the sheets still cling to your thighs with his seed. your tears have dried on your cheeks but your body trembles with the strange fullness he left behind. you sleep in his arms, his heavy chest pressed to your back, while outside your wives are wide awake.
they gather without you in the inner chamber, faces pale, eyes red. the betrayal of one of their own has poisoned them, left a wound that only blood can heal. masako.
the youngest wife speaks first, her voice sharp as broken glass. “our goddess gave her womb to a man. do you not see? she is slipping from us. all because of masako.”
the others nod, some weeping, some snarling, all of them seething with the same jealous fire. they whisper that you were theirs, that they licked your cunt, that they scissored you in devotion night after night, and now you moan for a man because masako let nanami’s words poison the palace.
“we have to give her back to our goddess,” one hisses. “give her what masako stole. an apology made of blood.”
so they plan.
masako, foolish, pretties herself for her secret meeting, slipping into silks, painting her lips, ready to sneak toward nanami’s dorm. she thinks of his voice, how he told her she was more than your shadow, that her body deserved devotion too. her heart pounds with the thrill of betrayal.
but the door closes behind her with a heavy thud.
the wives are waiting.
they circle her, eyes glinting in the lamplight, voices like knives.
“slut.”
“disgrace.”
“traitor to royalty.”
masako stumbles back, her face blanching, but they crowd her in, spitting their words.
she screams, voice breaking, “nanami makes me feel different! he makes me feel seen! she she only cares about herself, about her own pleasure!”
your wives freeze, then rage surges hot. one slaps her, hard, another grabs her hair, another spits in her face. their voices rise into shrieks of fury.
“how dare you!”
“our goddess gives us everything!”
“you shame her with your filth!”
they drag her down, nails clawing, hands clutching, teeth even biting. the room fills with her cries, her pleas, her sobs for mercy. but their anger is a tide, unstoppable, drowning her beneath it.
and then the knife.
one wife holds her throat steady while another cuts. blood sprays the silks, her scream gurgles into silence, her body jerks before going limp. the wives breathe hard, faces painted with her blood, their eyes gleaming with the satisfaction of vengeance.
they work in silence after that. her head is taken carefully, hair brushed back, lips wiped clean. they place it inside the diamond-cut crystal box, arranging it like a jewel. a grotesque gift, shining with apology and devotion.
the rest of the body is left, a carcass on the floor.
until the men come.
geto, shiu, sukuna they appear as if summoned by blood. none of them shocked, none of them disgusted. they smirk, they laugh, they mutter among themselves as they strip the body, wrap it in cloth, and drag it away.
“a fitting fate,” geto says smoothly, wiping blood from his hands.
“traitors rot the fastest,” shiu mutters, smoke curling from his lips.
sukuna only grins, teeth sharp in the lamplight. “let her join megumi at the bottom of the lake.”
and they do. her body is tossed into the dark waters, eaten by the same silence that swallowed your chosen one.
back in the wives’ chamber, the box gleams on the table. ready. waiting for dawn.
in the morning, your goddess hands will open it. and their betrayal will be washed in blood.
the sun had barely crept through the curtains when the doors opened. your wives filed in together, faces pale but determined, robes still spotted with blood that only they knew the source of. their hands clutched the weight of the crystal box, carried like an offering, a holy relic.
and the sight that met them froze their hearts.
you were not alone in your bed.
toji lay sprawled naked beside you, scarred chest bare, his massive body stretched like a beast at rest. the silks clung damp to your thighs where his seed had dried overnight, your crown your crown tilted on his broad head as if it belonged to him now. his lips were still on yours, slow and lazy, kissing you awake like a husband instead of a dog.
their goddess their untouched goddess naked in a man’s arms.
they knelt anyway.
the box was placed carefully on the edge of your bed. their voices rose in unison, a trembling prayer, an apology laced with devotion.
“forgive us, our goddess. we bring you the head of the traitor. the one who betrayed your divinity. accept her death as our loyalty, accept our lives as yours still.”
toji’s head turned, his jaw tight, his eyes narrowing. annoyance darkened his face, the muscles in his chest flexing as if he might leap from the bed and throw them out himself. his presence radiated territorial irritation how dare they barge in, how dare they kneel before you while he still had your taste on his cock. but he stayed still. he stayed quiet. his hand only tightened on your waist.
you shifted, the sheets sliding, your body aching but warm. your eyes fell to the box gleaming on the silks. you sat up slowly, the crown slipping from toji’s head back into your hands.
the wives lowered their eyes as you touched the diamond lid.
you opened it.
her head stared up at you, lips pale, eyes glassy, braid still intact, the skin around her neck crusted with drying blood. silence hung heavy. even toji tilted his head, curious despite his irritation.
you did not scream. you did not gasp. you smiled.
your fingers reached for the necklace at your throat, the old pendant that had once belonged to your mother, your first crown before the throne. you held it tight, clutching it to your chest, your smile soft and cruel at once.
“my girls,” you whispered, looking down at them with wet eyes. “you are my girls.”
their sobs broke into the chamber, relief and devotion flooding them, their foreheads pressed to the floor, their shoulders shaking with prayers of loyalty.
toji watched, jaw clenching, lips twisting faintly. your wives kissing the marble, your smile painted in blood, the box shining like a jewel at your feet. he said nothing but the storm in his eyes told you he hated sharing even your forgiveness.
and yet you stroked your necklace, smiling through the thick stench of death, your women trembling at your feet, your man’s cock still drying between your thighs.
the palace had never looked holier. or more corrupt.
he leaned back against the pillows, still naked, still damp with you, his lips curling into something that only pretended to be a smile. the wives were still bowing, their heads pressed into the marble at the foot of your bed, trembling with their devotion.
“look at that,” he murmured, his hand stroking your thigh as though none of them mattered, his voice rough but steady. “they proved their loyalty. killed for you. good little wives.”
his tone dripped with passive aggression, but you didn’t hear it. you only touched his jaw, your eyes soft and wet, and he leaned down to kiss you again. slow. heavy. possessive.
when he pulled back, he whispered low against your lips, “i’ll be back.”
you smiled faintly, your hands closing the diamond box and placing it away, as if it were no more than another jewel added to your collection. your heart still throbbed with pain, but you smiled anyway, clutching your necklace. “my girls,” you whispered again, and their sobs deepened.
toji rose from your bed, muscles flexing in the light, scars catching the gold. he wrapped the silk towel back around his waist, covering the cock that had just conquered you.
you stayed in bed, glowing and soft, while your wives filed out quietly, wiping tears from their faces. he followed, his shadow filling the doorway, his towel hanging loose on his hips.
and when the doors closed behind you, his face changed.
the softness fell away. his smile twisted into a snarl. he stopped in the corridor, towering over the wives who had just offered blood to prove their devotion. his eyes were sharp, his voice a growl.
“don’t think i don’t see through you,” he said, stepping closer, making them shrink back though they tried not to show fear. “you killed one of your own, just to crawl closer to her. you think that makes you loyal? it makes you desperate.”
one wife lifted her chin, her voice trembling but sharp. “better desperate than filthy. better a killer than a man. we don’t mind sending you to join your son at the bottom of the lake.”
his eyes narrowed, and his grin split wider, dangerous. “then don’t mind me turning your goddess back behind you. back to me. back to my bed, my cock, my seed. you’ll stay where you belong kneeling at her feet, licking her cunt when she lets you. servants. nothing else.”
the air crackled. their eyes burned into his, spitting hatred, but their bodies shook. they couldn’t deny what they’d seen. they couldn’t deny the crown slipping onto his head as he kissed her.
he leaned down, close enough for them to smell his sweat and silk, voice low and venomous.
“try me. one step out of line, one whisper against me and i’ll remind you again whose cock she chose first. i’ll remind her every night until you’re nothing but toys at the edge of her bed.”
his towel brushed against their skirts as he passed, tall and manly and dangerous, leaving them frozen in the corridor, teeth clenched, nails digging into their palms.
the goddess smiled upstairs, clutching her necklace.
and below, her palace sharpened its knives.
the hours dragged without him. the palace felt strangely quiet in his absence, as if the walls themselves noticed the missing weight of his shadow. your wives filled the silence with laughter and fabrics, trailing silks across your skin as you stood before the tall mirror in your chamber.
“this one, goddess,” one cooed, smoothing the red gown over your hips.
“no, the coral,” another corrected, tugging the hem against your thighs.
the youngest giggled, pressing the white dress to your chest. “skimpy, but it shows your beauty the best.”
you twirled for them, giggling, the silk rustling around your body as you modeled each one, your bare feet padding over the cool floor. they circled you, pouting when you shook your head, tugging at hems, smoothing their hands over your curves.
“we miss worshipping you,” one whispered against your ear, her lips brushing your shoulder. “why do you keep us waiting?”
you sighed with a playful smile, tilting your head. “i know… but later.”
they pouted, cheeks puffed, eyes wide. you giggled again, soft and indulgent, and finally relented, sinking onto the bed as they followed like kittens. they crowded around, lips brushing your thighs, your stomach, your breasts through the sheer orange silk you finally chose. their mouths opened, wet and eager, ready to worship again the doors opened.
he filled the frame before any voice announced him.
toji. bare-chested still, fresh from the hunt, scars dark under the golden light. behind him, male servants carried trays piled high with meats, fruits, vegetables the best the land could give. the scent filled the room, rich and overwhelming.
your wives froze on the bed, lips inches from your skin. their eyes darted up to him. his glare burned through them like a blade.
his jaw flexed. his eyes narrowed. his body went taut with fury, as if he’d tear them away from you with his bare hands.
they glared back, protective, territorial, daring him to speak, to try and chase them from their goddess. the room crackled with hatred.
then he jerked his chin toward the door.
the servants hesitated, glancing between the spread of food and your body on the bed. his glare sharpened, and with one dismissive tilt of his jaw, they scrambled out, trays left behind.
your wives followed reluctantly, muttering their prayers as they bowed and left, the last one glancing back with fire in her eyes. the door shut.
silence.
then his grin. slow. lazy. sharp.
he strode to the table, his huge hands arranging the trays, placing the best cuts of meat, the ripest fruits, the softest bread within your reach. he turned back to you, his gaze sliding over the thin orange silk stretched across your tits, the hem barely covering the swell of your ass. the fabric was sheer enough that the curve of your nipples showed, the outline of your cunt visible when you shifted your thighs.
his cock stirred under the towel knotted low around his waist.
“you look hungry,” he said, voice low, almost amused. “your little wives never feed you right. they lick you, they play, but they never fill you.”
you giggled, cheeks warm, eyes sparkling as you sat back on the bed, legs crossed, hands folded prettily in your lap. “and you will?”
he chuckled, deep and rough, the sound vibrating in his chest. he crossed the room, sat beside you, his massive body sinking the mattress. his hand caught yours, lifting it to his lips, kissing it with a mockery of courtly grace.
“i’ll fill you,” he murmured, his lips brushing your skin, his other hand sliding to your cheek. he kissed there too, soft and warm, though his eyes glinted sharp. “with food. with my seed. with anything you want.”
you laughed, the sound bubbling out of you, soft and girlish, and it made his grin widen, made his cock twitch against the towel.
he pulled you into his lap with one swift motion, your giggles muffled against his chest, your silk gown riding up your thighs. he laughed with you, low and rough, shaking his head.
“adorable,” he growled into your hair. “my goddess… my little empress… you don’t even know how fucking adorable you are.”
his lips brushed your temple as his hand slid down your back, holding you tighter against his chest, his cock already pressing hard against your thigh beneath the silk.
his hands are too big for the delicate dishes. the fruits look small in his scarred fingers, the roasted meat fragile as he tears it apart with ease. he feeds you piece by piece, not with forks or plates, but with his own hand, pressing figs to your lips, slipping ripe grapes between your teeth, pushing cuts of tender meat onto your tongue.
you chew and swallow obediently, your belly warming, your lips shining with juice. he never lets you reach for anything yourself. every bite is his offering, his command.
“that’s it,” he murmurs, his chest pressed against your back as you sit in his lap. “eat, goddess. eat until you’re full. you’re too soft, too delicate. i want you fed. i want you heavy.”
his free hand strokes your waist, rubbing the curve of your stomach as it grows rounder with food, massaging lazily like he’s already imagining it swollen with his child. when you moan softly from the weight in your belly, he only chuckles, kissing your cheek.
“beautiful,” he whispers, fingers sliding higher to cup your breast through the thin orange silk, rolling the nipple between his calloused fingers. “bloated and fed and mine.”
his towel has slipped again. his cock slides free, thick and veined, hard from watching you eat at his command. he doesn’t thrust it in, not yet. he presses it between your thighs, rutting lazily, coating the insides of your legs with heat and slick.
you whimper softly, shifting in his lap, the crown of his cock dragging against your cunt through the sheer silk. he groans low in your ear, his hand gripping your thigh, spreading you wider so he can grind harder.
you tilt your head back against his shoulder, your voice breaking into a giggle. “you spent all day for this? hunting and gathering just to feed me?”
he laughs, low and rough, his lips brushing your ear. “what i do for you isn’t a chore. you’re my goddess. feeding you is a privilege.”
you blush, giggling again, reaching toward the tray to pluck a grape. you turn in his lap, pressing it to his lips with your small hand.
he lets you feed him. his mouth closes over your fingers, his tongue brushing your skin as he bites down on the grape, chewing slow, savoring it. he swallows, then laughs deep in his chest, pulling you tighter against him, his cock grinding harder between your thighs.
“sweet,” he says, kissing the corner of your mouth. “but not as sweet as you.”
he presses another kiss, deeper this time, his hand sliding up to your throat, tilting your head back as his cock pulses against your cunt.
“never as sweet as you.”
your belly is full, warm, round beneath his palm. you can feel the weight of every grape, every slice of meat he pressed into your mouth, every morsel chewed while his eyes stayed glued to you. and now his cock, thick and hot, slides up into you, stretching you again, deeper than food could ever fill.
he starts slow. lazy thrusts, rolling his hips, dragging the thick head of his cock over every trembling inch inside you. his hand strokes your thigh, pushing it open wider, his chest pressed heavy against your back.
“that’s it,” he murmurs, kissing your neck, the words rumbling into your skin. “so wet for me already. pussy puffy and dripping… feels like you were waiting for me.”
you moan, low and broken, head tipping back against his shoulder. he pulls a grape from the tray, pressing it to your lips even as his cock grinds deeper. you whimper, but he doesn’t let you refuse his fingers push it past your lips, his other hand pinching your breast until you chew.
“good girl,” he mutters, watching your throat work as you swallow. “eat for me. fuck for me.”
his pace grows heavier. the slow grind turns into deep thrusts, the mattress shaking beneath you, your belly bouncing from the force. juice drips down your chin from another grape he shoves into your mouth, mixing with your moans.
his free hand frees one of your tits, tugging the silk down until it spills into his palm. he squeezes, rolls the nipple between his rough fingers, groaning against your neck.
“so pretty,” he growls, biting your shoulder. “pretty little slut, stuffed with my cock and food, moaning in my lap.”
the word hits you, your moans stutter, your brows knitting as you pout. you whimper through a mouthful of fruit, chewing slow, turning your head to him. “t-toji… don’t call me that. it’s… it’s disrespectful.”
he laughs. a deep, warm, infuriating sound. his hips slam harder, cock punching into you until you gasp, eyes rolling.
“no,” he says easily, his grin pressed against your damp cheek. “not a bad word. it’s how a man calls his woman when she’s beautiful. when she’s dripping. when she’s perfect.”
he gaslights you sweetly, his tone almost soft, as if you were the one being silly. “don’t pout, goddess. slut just means mine. pretty and mine.”
his cock pounds heavier now, your wetness splattering down his thighs, your cunt clenching around him with every brutal push. he feeds you another grape as you moan, the juice spilling down your chin, his hand smearing it over your lips before kissing you messy, groaning into your mouth.
“my pretty slut,” he whispers, slow and dominant, fucking you harder with each word. “my goddess. my queen. mine.”
his pace shifts. the lazy grind that had you sighing melts into sharp, hungry thrusts, his hips snapping hard, his cock slamming so deep your stomach jolts with every push. the bed creaks, the trays rattle on the table, your cries echo against the tall walls.
“yeah,” he groans, voice dark, hand fisting your hair to yank your head back against his shoulder. “that’s it. take it. take it all, goddess.”
he reaches for another grape, shoving it between your lips while he ruts into you. you moan around it, choking on juice, your body convulsing as his cock stretches you brutally. your belly, already bloated from food, trembles with the force of every thrust.
“look at you,” he growls, biting your ear, “stuffed with meat, fruit, my cock so spoiled, and you still pout when i call you what you are.”
his hand slaps your tit, squeezing it rough, his thumb pinching your nipple until you squeal. his laugh rumbles against your back, cruel and amused.
“spoiled little slut,” he spits, hips crashing into yours faster, harder, the sound of your wet pussy squelching loud enough to drown your cries. “cry about disrespect all you want your cunt tells the truth. squeezing me, begging me, soaking me.”
tears spill down your cheeks, your voice cracking into sobs of pleasure as he pistons into you, cock thick and brutal, dragging across every raw inch of your pussy.
“ahh t-toji, please !”
“please what?” he snarls, snapping his hips faster, shoving another grape past your lips before you can finish. “please don’t fuck you so deep? don’t make your pussy puffy and swollen on my cock? too late, goddess. i’m already inside.”
his hand slides down to your waist, gripping the soft curve tight, pulling you back into every thrust until his balls slap wet against you. he growls low, sweaty chest pressed to your back.
“you’re mine. my woman. my slut. no man, no wife, no servant feeds you, fucks you, fills you like this.”
you sob, moaning into his rough palm as he covers your mouth, muffling your cries while he jackhammers your cunt. your thighs tremble, your pussy gushes wet down his cock, juice from fruit and cum soaking into the silks beneath you.
“gonna cum inside again,” he growls into your ear, pounding you harder, faster, until the whole bed shakes. “gonna pump you full till you’re leaking down your legs. let every bitch in this palace see you waddle with my seed dripping out.”
you break, convulsing on his cock, tears streaking your cheeks, your voice muffled in his palm as your orgasm rips through you.
he snarls, fucking you through it, until he buries himself to the hilt and groans loud, spilling hot cum deep into your womb. he grinds hard, making sure it stuffs inside, his hand clutching your tit as if to brand you.
then he laughs, breathless and cruel, kissing the wet tears on your cheek.
“see?” he whispers, still throbbing inside you. “not disrespect. just the way a man calls his woman when she’s this pretty, this ruined, this mine.”

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THE DOG'S DEFIANCE
EMPRESS F!READER X TOJI FUSHIGURO (AND MENTIONS OF NANAMI, GETO, SUKUNA, SHIU, MEGUMI)
CW MISANDRY, HUMILIATION, BETRAYAL, MANIPULATION, RELIGIOUS/RITUALISTIC THEMES, CUNNILINGUS WORSHIP, POWER IMBALANCE, DEGRADATION, MURDER, EMOTIONAL MANIPULATION, CORRUPTION, TWISTED DYNAMICS, ANGST
SUMMARY your palace is ruled by women, your cunt a holy altar guarded by wives who worship you with lips and prayer. but jealousy rots in the men who circle your throne.
DISCLAIMER this is a dark work of fanfiction. themes include heavy misandry, manipulation, and sexual degradation. all characters are adults (megumi is 26). nothing here reflects real-life consent or relationships. read responsibly. do not steal, copy, or repost.
©️onlypinkslut
the palace is made for worship. ivory columns carved with lilies, silk curtains that ripple like waves when the wind sneaks in from the balcony, a throne raised on seven steps so no man can look at you without tilting his head back. you are their goddess, their empress, their virgin ruler, and your body is the temple that keeps the kingdom alive.
your throne is not cold stone it is flesh, devotion. one girl kneels at your feet, her cheek resting on your thigh as if it were a pillow. another hovers at your side, feeding you peeled grapes one by one, her lips brushing the fruit before it reaches yours. your women are your wives in every way that matters: they bathe you, they oil your skin until it gleams like gold, they slip their mouths between your thighs when the night grows long and the loneliness sharp. they whisper love into your skin, and you let them.
you have never been touched by a man. and yet, they gather beneath your throne like starving dogs.
toji stands with his arms crossed, scarred and broad, eyes devouring you the way soldiers devour an enemy city. nanami kneels properly, golden hair neat, but his fists are tight on his knees as if restraint is a rope cutting into him. geto leans too comfortably against a pillar, the priest turned predator, smiling faintly as he studies the girls at your feet. sukuna does not kneel at all he lounges against your staircase with a grin carved deep in his face, tattoos moving when his chest rises with laughter. shiu smokes despite the incense, lazy eyes never leaving your mouth. and megumi, youngest among them, toji’s son, stands half in shadow, quiet and unassuming, but close enough to be inside your circle.
your women know what this is. a war. their fingers tighten on you as if staking claim. one of them dares, in front of all the men, to part your robe and press a soft kiss above your knee. her lips linger. the room breathes with tension.
toji’s jaw ticks, his body leaning forward as if he might drag her away by her hair. nanami’s gaze sharpens like a blade; sukuna laughs, low and vulgar.
“your majesty,” geto says smoothly, “do you let them worship you while we rot here like beggars?”
you smile, soft, cruel, and tilt your head. “i let those who are worthy.”
the girl at your knee lifts her face, glowing with pride at being chosen. her lips are wet with the sheen of your skin.
nanami clears his throat, speaking carefully, “with respect, empress, men can protect your throne. women cannot.”
you do not look at him. you stroke your servant’s hair, slow and indulgent, as she buries her cheek against your thigh again. “and yet it is women who keep me fed, bathed, adored. tell me, nanami, what use is your sword when it cannot ease my hunger?”
a ripple of laughter rises from your wives, soft but sharp, meant to wound the men. sukuna bares his teeth, delighted at the sting. toji’s nostrils flare; he is not a man who tolerates being mocked.
your eyes sweep the room, deliberate. each man brims with hunger, each girl glows with loyalty. the air is thick, ripe with the promise of a war not fought with steel, but with lips and cock and cunt.
and you, the virgin goddess, sit untouched, untouchable yet every heartbeat, every gaze, presses against your skin like a plea.
the hall grows quiet except for the soft sounds of mouths on your skin. your robe slips from one shoulder, and your servant takes the chance her lips wrap around your nipple, tongue circling lazily, as if she is tasting fruit. another woman joins her at your other breast, sucking gently until your body leans into the throne. they look like priestesses drinking sacred wine, lost in ritual.
beneath your gown, hidden by the fall of silk, two more are wedged between your thighs. their tongues spread you open, worshipping slow, mouths wet and reverent as they eat you out. you feel their devotion in every flick of tongue, every muffled whimper pressed into your cunt.
the men watch. forced to. they are bound not by chains but by your command, and that is heavier than iron.
you breathe deep, eyes half-lidded as the lips on your tits tug, the mouths under your dress lick harder, desperate to please. one hand strokes through your servant’s hair. the other lifts lazily, gesturing downward.
“toji,” your voice is honey but sharp, “the trees outside my window are too tall. cut them before sundown.”
he stiffens, jaw clenching, chest swelling with rage. he is a man built for war, reduced to a lumberjack under your word. your servants suck harder on your tits, as if mocking him, their cheeks hollowing while his fists flex.
“nanami,” you murmur next, fingers stroking the wet mouth at your breast, “see to the accounts. every coin in this palace is mine, and i will not have it miscounted.”
he bows his head stiffly, blond hair falling forward, but his gaze flickers to your nipple shining in another woman’s mouth. his hands twitch as if aching to touch, but he will not.
“geto,” you hum, a soft sigh spilling from your lips as the girls under your dress lap greedily at your cunt, “pray for rain in the northern fields. if your gods still listen to you.”
he smirks, tilting his head, dark eyes glinting. “they listen better than yours, empress.” but his smirk falters as one of your women moans against your clit, making you arch just slightly.
“sukuna,” you say without opening your eyes, “clear the stables. your strength may be better suited to shoveling dung.”
his laugh rattles the pillars, deep and obscene. he licks his teeth, watching the silk shift as your thighs tremble under it, but he bows mockingly, “as my goddess commands.”
“shiu,” you exhale, rolling your head back as one girl bites your nipple softly, “see to the walls. i want every crack repaired before winter.”
the smoke between his fingers curls lazily, but his eyes are knives. “and if i refuse?”
you tilt your head down just enough to meet his gaze, a smile curving your lips as the two under your dress lick you into another shiver. “then i refuse you.”
last, your gaze falls to megumi. he stands too close, too trusted, to be ordered like the rest. “megumi, stay. the others will serve. you will watch over me.”
toji’s rage is near feral. his son is allowed near you while he sweats over trees. your servants moan against your pussy as if to underline your cruelty.
you shift slightly, silk sliding higher, enough for the men to glimpse the movement of heads beneath your gown, the twitch of your thighs. the sound of sucking and swallowing fills the chamber.
“do you see now,” you murmur, voice husky with pleasure, “why i keep my women near and my men beneath?”
the throne shakes with laughter from sukuna, the scrape of teeth from toji, the silence of nanami biting his tongue. but your women do not falter. they drink you, they suckle you, they worship you as if every lick keeps the world turning.
and you sit, cunt spread on eager mouths, tits sucked wet, issuing commands like blessings untouched, untouchable, yet ruling every man in the room with nothing more than the softness between your thighs.
you lean back into the throne as if it were a lover, body relaxed while the mouths on your tits suckle greedily and the two beneath your gown lick you like they could drink eternity from your cunt. your moans are not hidden; they are declarations. every sound you make is a reminder that your pleasure belongs to women, not to men.
your gaze drops lazily to the men below. “look at you,” you murmur, stroking one servant’s hair as she tongues your nipple, “lined up like soldiers waiting for scraps. yet not one of you has ever touched me. not one of you will, unless i decree it. and i do not.”
toji growls low, teeth grinding, veins bulging in his forearms. you smile at his rage, savoring it.
“men swing swords and boast about strength,” you continue, voice husky as the girls beneath your gown suck harder, “yet when i hunger, when i ache, when i demand devotion who gives it? not you. my little wives do. my soft, loyal girls. they hold me when the night is long. they drink from me when i wish. their mouths feed me worship you could never understand.”
nanami stiffens, his jaw taut, but he says nothing. geto smirks faintly, though his eyes are sharp, dangerous. sukuna laughs loud, vulgar, as if he enjoys the insult. shiu exhales smoke, but his hand trembles just slightly.
you reach for megumi. your fingers curl around his wrist, tugging him gently closer until he stands at your side, high on the steps, his face inches from yours. “and then there is my favorite.”
the hall seems to crack with tension. toji’s body jerks forward, barely restrained, as his son takes the place he cannot.
“megumi,” you whisper, tilting your head, “hold my hand.”
he obeys. his large palm covers yours, strong but trembling. your women moan louder against your cunt, tongues moving faster as if jealous of him, as if spurred by your favoritism.
“you see,” you murmur to the men, your voice a slow lash, “this is why i allow him near. he does not growl like an animal. he does not demand. he waits. he listens. he belongs to me, not to his father, not to the name of man, but to me.”
toji snarls, his voice a thunderclap. “he is my son!”
your laugh cuts through the chamber like silk tearing. “he is mine now. mine to sit beside me, mine to serve me, mine to watch me be worshipped while you shovel wood like a beast.”
your servants bite softly at your nipples, suckling them until your body arches, your robe slipping lower, exposing the full curve of your breasts. beneath the gown, two mouths moan into your cunt, their tongues wet and desperate, your thighs twitching from the pleasure.
you keep your eyes on the men, voice dripping contempt. “you are all the same. desperate, violent, certain the world was built to open its legs for you. but i was built to close them.” your smile sharpens. “and to open them only for those i choose.”
your fingers squeeze megumi’s hand. “like him.”
the chamber fills with muffled moans from under your gown, wet sounds of sucking, the soft worship of women who adore you. the men can only stand there, fists clenched, cocks straining, hearts burning with rage.
and you, untouched by any man, let your girls drink from you in plain sight every lick, every suck, every kiss a blade of misandry, cutting deep.
the night splits. inside your chamber, heat and perfume cling to the air, your cunt pressed wet against another’s, thighs trembling as your servant moans into your mouth, her body shaking under yours. your hair is still being massaged, slick with oils, while two more women chant softly, stroking your arms, kissing your fingers, their devotion spilling over you like wine.
the ritual grows heavier. your women cry out your name between words of praise, their hands sliding along your stomach, their lips sealing over your tits. their bodies are your altar, and you grind yourself against them, moaning as you crown yourself in pleasure.
but beyond the walls, the men stalk.
torches die as they pass. footsteps are muffled, rage carried silent. toji leads, blade in hand, the scarred monster reduced to a father eaten alive by envy. megumi’s shadow waits in the courtyard, as if he still guards your chamber, his jaw tight but his posture calm, faithful to you even when his father burns with hatred.
they descend on him.
it happens fast. nanami’s fist to his ribs, geto’s curse binding his arms, sukuna’s laughter ringing as toji drives the blade home. megumi gasps, his eyes wide, the name of his goddess on his tongue, not his father’s. his body jerks once, twice, then falls.
toji snarls as he drags his son’s weight, spitting words through his teeth. “you will never touch what i can’t.”
the others watch, silent or smirking, as the body is hauled to the edge of the black lake that feeds the palace gardens. the water gleams under moonlight, still and endless. with one final shove, toji sends his son into it, the splash echoing like a curse. the ripples eat him whole, dragging him into darkness.
the men stand at the shore, faces lit faintly by the moon. no prayers are spoken, no remorse shared. they turn back toward the palace, their hunger sharper than before.
inside, you climax again. your thighs are wet, your hair perfumed, your lips swollen from women’s kisses. you know nothing of the lake, nothing of the body sinking beneath it.
your women hold you, praise you, worship you with trembling mouths and aching thighs, certain they are keeping you safe, untouched, divine.
but the night is already bleeding, and outside your walls, the men’s footsteps return heavier, dripping with betrayal.
you wake to wet faces pressed against your skin. your bed is not empty; it is a nest of limbs, your wives clinging to you as if your body could shield them from grief. one is weeping into your shoulder, another clutching your wrist, her tears dripping onto your palm. you blink, the weight of sleep dragging, until their voices break into sobs.
“he is gone,” one whispers, shaking, “your chosen one… he did not return.”
you sit up slowly, the silk sheets sliding from your bare skin, and you see the devastation carved into their faces. they cling to you harder, crying as if the world itself has collapsed.
the words hit you like stone megumi. the one you let close. the one who never reached for you with hunger, never treated you like a conquest, but as softness. his eyes had never burned with greed like the others. his hand had only ever held yours.
your face collapses. rage and sorrow rip through you at once, twisting until your body shakes. your mouth opens but no sound comes at first, only the heaving sob of a goddess undone. your women cling tighter, crying into your skin, their small hands stroking you as if they could mend your breaking heart.
you rise. no robe, no crown. your princess gown is thrown onto your shoulders by trembling hands, silks falling around your body like storm clouds. your eyes burn red as you descend the steps of your chamber, barefoot, your wives trailing behind you like wailing priestesses.
the men are gathered below, pretending calm, their faces stiff. the courtyard fills with silence as you appear unannounced, hair unbound, tears streaking down your face, fury vibrating through your body.
you stop at the top of the staircase and your voice tears out of you, sharp enough to cut the night.
“men.”
the word is venom. it drips from your lips like a curse.
“driven by nothing but ego, by hunger, by the pathetic need to conquer what will never belong to you.” your voice cracks, rage and grief bleeding together. “how dare you? how dare you take the only one who did not see me as a prize to be claimed, but as softness to be cherished?”
your wives cry louder, wailing as they cling to you, their voices echoing your grief. you do not silence them. you raise your voice over theirs, sharp as thunder.
“you could not be patient. you could not wait for my word, my choice. you could not bear to see me loved by one who carried no hunger in his hands. you killed him, because his purity burned your filth away. and now his body rots in the lake while you stand here with your cocks and your shame.”
the men look down, their pride cracked. nanami’s jaw tightens, guilt twisting his mouth. geto avoids your eyes, the charm stripped from him. shiu exhales smoke too fast, unable to meet your gaze. even sukuna’s grin falters at the weight of your fury.
and toji he stands still, stone and shadow, his eyes fixed on the ground. the rage that fueled him has turned inward, a blade cutting his own chest. he killed his son. his blood. his reflection. and for what? for a softness he could never have.
you spit the last words like fire. “you are beasts. cursed by your own greed. you killed the only man among you who was worth anything.”
your tears stream openly now, your wives holding you up as your voice cracks again, sharp enough to shatter the night.
“from this day, my body belongs to no man. you will serve me as servants, as dogs, or you will leave this palace in shame. you will look at my face and remember the softness you murdered.”
the courtyard is silent. only your wives’ cries, only your sobs, only the tremble of men who know they have destroyed themselves by destroying him.
and in the shadows of the lake, ripples still move, as if the water itself mourns the boy who had been allowed to touch your hand.
the night is long, your bed heavy with the weight of grief. your women have finally cried themselves into restless sleep, tangled against you like vines, lips pressed to your shoulders as if to shield you from dreams. but the chamber door shifts.
a shadow slips inside. broad, heavy, the shape of a man who does not belong here.
toji.
he is not dressed in his battle leathers, not even in the silks he once flaunted. he wears the rough cloth of your lower servants an old man’s tunic cinched with rope at the waist, sleeves rolled up, the fabric straining over the swell of his chest and arms. even humbled, his body is obscene: muscles carved thick and brutal, veins roping down his forearms, thighs bulging as if he could crush the floor beneath him. yet here he is, kneeling, crawling, his scarred knees pressing into your carpet, dirt clinging to his hands as he lowers himself before your bed.
in his grip, crushed flowers. gathered poorly, stalks broken, petals bruised. an offering so pitiful it would be laughable, if not for the desperation etched into his face.
he crawls until his head touches the edge of your sheets. his voice cracks, low and guttural, no trace of the man who once commanded fear.
“forgive me,” he whispers, forehead pressed to the fabric, shoulders trembling with the weight of his shame. “forgive me, goddess.”
your wives stir faintly in their sleep, but you do not wake them. you shift, sitting upright, eyes burning holes into the broken man at your feet.
toji’s hands clutch the flowers tighter, stems snapping in his fists. “i killed him. i killed my own son because i—” his voice shatters, chest heaving. “because i could not stand to see him have what i could never touch. i tore him from you. i tore your softness from you.”
he lifts his head just enough to press his lips against the sheets where your thighs rest. his mouth moves as if kissing through the fabric, as if apologizing to the cunt he will never deserve.
“i beg your womb,” he mutters hoarsely, voice shaking, “forgive me for starving it of the son who cherished you. i beg your breasts, forgive me for robbing them of his gaze. i beg your heart, forgive me for crushing it beneath my sin.”
his body shudders, sweat dripping down the thick curve of his back, cloth clinging to his massive frame. the tunic strains at his chest as he bows lower, arms corded with muscle even as they tremble under his own weight.
“curse me if you must. damn me. spit on me. but let me beg.” his voice is ragged, eyes wet, lips pressed against the silk again as if he could sink into you through the fabric. “i will crawl until my knees break, i will shovel dung until my hands bleed, i will dress as a dog, a slave, an old man with no name. only do not cast me from you.”
the flowers fall from his grip, scattered petals at your feet, broken stems stained by his sweat.
toji fushiguro, scarred beast, father turned murderer, dilf turned dog, kneels in a servant’s tunic with his forehead pressed to your sheets, begging your pussy, your womb, your breasts, your heart for forgiveness.
and in the silence of the chamber, his body heaves with guilt, the muscles that once killed now trembling like a sinner’s.
you don’t speak at first. you only watch him. this huge man, a mountain of muscle and scars, once the loudest growl in your court, now reduced to a heap at your feet. the servant’s tunic clings damp to his chest, sweat soaking the rough cloth, his thighs bulging through worn seams. his hair falls into his face, shadowing eyes that dare not rise to meet yours.
the flowers lie broken on the floor. petals scattered like pieces of his pride.
you move, slowly, carefully, shifting from your bed until your bare legs dangle over the edge. the sheets pool around your waist, and your women stir, but do not wake. your hand reaches down, curling into his messy hair, gripping it tight until his head jerks up. his breath hitches when his eyes find your thighs so close, bare and gleaming, the scent of your cunt heavy in the air.
“dog,” you whisper, your voice soft but sharper than a blade, “you killed my son of softness. you drowned him in the lake. for that, you will never be a man to me again.”
toji’s chest heaves, his throat working, shame and hunger choking him at once.
“but you may crawl.” your fingers tighten in his hair, dragging his face against your thigh, pressing his mouth to your skin. “you may beg with your tongue. you may worship like the animal you are.”
a sound leaves him half groan, half sob as he lowers himself, pressing kisses to your bare thighs. his lips are rough, scarred, trembling as they travel down. he mutters into your skin, broken prayers.
“forgive me… forgive me, goddess… let me taste what i destroyed… let me beg your womb, your heart, your holy cunt.”
you spread your legs slowly, silk falling aside, the wet heat of your pussy revealed in the candlelight. his eyes widen, jaw clenching, nostrils flaring as if the scent alone could crush him.
you shove his head down. his mouth crashes against your folds, lips sealing over your cunt as if he were drinking from a chalice. he moans into you, deep and guttural, the sound vibrating against your clit.
your thighs close around his head like a trap, forcing him deeper. you hold him there, fingers fisted in his hair, as he licks and sucks, messy and desperate, nothing like your women’s soft worship but animal, starving.
“good dog,” you whisper, tears still streaking your cheeks, rage still burning in your chest. “lick until your tongue splits. beg until your throat bleeds. this is all you are now.”
his massive body trembles beneath the servant’s cloth, muscles flexing, sweat dripping onto the floor as he groans into your cunt. his arms, thick enough to crush stone, are wrapped around your thighs like chains, holding himself there as if he would drown in you willingly.
you tilt your head back, sighing as his tongue works, as his broken prayers spill into your wetness.
behind you, one of your wives stirs, eyes opening, lips parting in shock at the sight. but you only smile, cruel and tired, stroking his hair as he eats you like a dog.
“look,” you murmur softly to her, “see what a man becomes when his ego is crushed. see how they crawl when stripped of pride.”
toji groans louder at your words, sucking harder, as if shame itself were fuel for his worship.
and for the first time, you let him. not as a man. not as a father. not even as a warrior.
but as your dog.
night after night, he returns. not as a warrior, not as a father, not as a man. he slips through your chamber door in silence, wearing that rough servant’s tunic that clings damp to his chest, his broad body hulking and obscene, veins swelling under his skin as if straining against humiliation.
and every night you let him crawl.
you sit on your throne, silk pooled around your hips, legs parted with the ease of a queen who knows she will never be denied. one of your wives peels grapes and feeds them to you slowly, lips brushing your cheek before pressing the fruit to your mouth. another oils your calves, stroking you with reverent hands. the others sit at your feet, watching with wet eyes, their faces lit by the glow of your divinity.
and at the center of it all on his knees, hunched low, scarred face buried between your thighs is toji.
his mouth worships you like scripture. his tongue drags through your folds in heavy strokes, his lips seal over your clit until the sounds are wet, sloppy, obscene. his beard scratches your inner thighs, his nose rubs against you, and every moan he makes is muffled into your cunt. he sucks like he is dying of thirst, groans like a beast breaking, and every shudder of his body shakes the floor beneath him.
your hand rests lazily in his hair, stroking as if he were a dog curled at your feet. sometimes you tug, forcing him deeper, making him choke on your wetness until tears run down his scarred cheeks.
he begs as he licks.
“forgive me, goddess… forgive this cursed man… forgive my hands, my heart, my sins… let me serve your womb… let me praise your pussy until the sun dies.”
you sigh, lounging back, letting a grape burst between your teeth. “good dog,” you murmur, voice heavy with cruelty and indulgence. “you beg well. you eat better than you ever fought.”
your wives laugh softly at your words, their giggles sharp as knives. one leans down to whisper in your ear, “he looks pathetic like this, my empress. worse than the dung-shovelers.”
you smile, stroking his damp hair as he groans into your clit, devouring you harder at the insult.
“hush,” you tell her sweetly. “he is useful now. his tongue belongs to me, his strength wasted, his pride broken. let him stay where he belongs.”
you look down at him, this monstrous body of muscle, this killer of sons, this old dog, kneeling in a servant’s tunic with his mouth full of your cunt.
“praise me louder,” you command, plucking another grape from the vine.
his voice cracks against your folds, muffled and desperate. “you are divinity… you are womb and heart and heaven… you are softness i destroyed, yet softness i still serve… you are everything, goddess, everything…”
and you hum, satisfied, parting your legs wider, letting him drown himself in your pussy while your women feed you fruit and massage your hair.
your wives no longer whisper. they laugh openly now, their voices sharp as blades, cutting into him while he groans against your cunt.
“look at him,” one giggles, tugging his messy hair as his tongue strokes deeper, “the beast of the battlefield, reduced to nothing but a wet tongue between our goddess’s thighs.”
another spits onto his bare back, the saliva gleaming as it slides down the curve of his muscle. “all that strength, wasted. he was born for war and now he licks like a mutt for scraps.”
you smile faintly, chewing a grape, stroking his hair like he’s less than human. “he will never be more than my dog.”
the words strike him harder than chains. his body stiffens, his shoulders trembling, his scarred hands digging into your thighs as his tongue falters. but he doesn’t lift his head. he dares not.
inside, though, the beast growls.
he hears their laughter, the wives, the men outside who must already mock him in whispers, the weight of his son’s ghost pressing down. he is on his knees, yes servant’s cloth straining over his chest, sweat dripping, beard soaked with your cunt but something in him claws upward, savage, unstoppable.
his cock throbs, heavy and thick beneath the rough tunic, pressing against the fabric as if trying to break free. his muscles, still vast, still monstrous, ripple as he shudders with each lick.
dog, they call him. useless, broken, weak.
his pride burns. his hunger burns hotter.
as his tongue slams against your clit again, harder, rougher, his thoughts curl dark. i will prove them wrong. i will conquer her. i will make her mine. i will tear the softness from her throne and bury it in my chest. i will own what no man has touched, what every woman guards. i am bigger. i am stronger. i am man enough to break her divinity.
but out loud, he moans like a dog, lips sealed over your cunt, sucking until you gasp, until your wives smirk cruelly down at him.
he swallows your wetness like it is holy wine, his chest heaving, his throat working, muscles bulging beneath the rags of servant’s cloth.
inside, he vows. she will not always sit above me. one night, i will rise. i will drag her down. and then, goddess or not, empress or not, she will belong to me.
you sit above him, legs parted, grapes sweet on your tongue, hair stroked by gentle hands. you stroke his damp head lazily, unaware of the storm that coils beneath his shame.
toji never leaves. night after night, he crawls back, huge body bent under servant’s cloth, scarred knees bruised from the stone floors, face raw from hours buried between your thighs. he eats you like prayer, like punishment, like salvation. he calls himself your dog, and he means it because a dog has a place. a dog has a purpose. and in your palace, in your bed, in your cunt, he has both.
and he guards it viciously.
because the others begin to falter.
nanami tries first. pride stripped, he kneels too stiffly before you one morning, his voice clipped as he offers to take the collar too, to serve on his knees. but his hands tremble, his eyes still dart with male arrogance, and you see it immediately. “you want power,” you murmur, tilting your head, “not devotion.” your wives laugh, and you wave him away like spoiled fruit.
geto follows, too smooth, too eager to twist it into ritual. he whispers that he can be the priest of your pussy, that his tongue is worship, that he too will crawl if it means tasting divinity. but his eyes glitter with schemes, not surrender, and you feel the lie in his lips before they ever touch your skin. “you would poison my cunt with ambition,” you say coldly. your wives spit on his sandals until he leaves humiliated.
sukuna is worse. he grins wide, tattoos crawling as he spreads his arms. “let me be your beast,” he says, “your dog with fangs.” but he cannot bend, cannot crawl, cannot humble himself. he laughs instead of begging, and when he dares to touch his tongue to your ankle without permission, you kick him across the floor. your wives cheer, chanting that no man can fake submission.
shiu mutters, offering in smoke, saying he’ll kneel if it means a taste. but his hands stay in his pockets, his smirk stays on his lips, and you see the cowardice in him. “you think a collar is a game,” you say. “but a dog must bleed for me.” he leaves, coughing on his own shame.
and through it all, toji stays.
silent, hulking, monstrous in muscle but small in posture, his face pressed to your cunt, his lips raw, his beard wet, his tongue swollen from hours of worship. while the others fail, while they show their pride, their hunger, their tricks he proves himself with obedience.
when they laugh at him, he licks harder. when they mock him, he moans into your pussy, hands gripping your thighs like anchors, as if he’d rather die there than ever lift his head.
your wives adore it. they stroke your hair, feed you grapes, and look down at him with cruel delight. “he is the only true dog,” they say. “the only one worthy.”
and you, empress of misandry, stroke his hair and hum in agreement.
because the truth is clear now: every man in your palace burns for your pussy, but only one has proven himself willing to destroy his pride, his legacy, even his blood, just to lap at it like a mutt at a bowl.
and so toji guards his place. not as conqueror. not as man.
but as your dog.
the palace does not sleep. after megumi’s death and your fury, the air itself has soured. the men are restless, humiliated, desperate. every night they watch toji crawl on scarred knees and bury his face in your cunt, every morning they hear your wives laughing at their failure. the shame burns deeper than steel wounds.
so they turn sly.
nanami begins first quiet, calculated. he lingers near one of your youngest wives, the one who braids your hair. he tells her she deserves more than to live in your shadow, that if she ever wished to feel a man’s devotion she could have his. he speaks with gentleness, with false patience, as though trying to turn her heart soft against you.
geto is smoother. he charms the ones who tend your baths, saying that a goddess’s women are queens themselves, and queens deserve worship. he tells them his mouth can honor them as they honor you, tries to plant hunger where only loyalty should live.
sukuna does not whisper. he corners one boldly, one of your fiercest wives, and laughs as he tells her she’ll never taste true power if she spends her life licking another woman’s cunt. he dangles promises of freedom, of destruction, of what a man’s cock could give her if she dared.
shiu lurks at the edges, puffing smoke, murmuring soft poison into ears reminding them how heavy a collar can feel, how chains dressed as silk still cut.
they all reach, claw, scheme. trying to break the circle, to slip inside your guard through the bodies of the women who love you.
but toji… toji sees it.
he stays low, stays silent, his face always pressed to your thighs, his hands rubbing circles into your calves while you eat fruit and laugh with your wives. but his eyes are sharp beneath lowered lids. he sees nanami leaning too close, geto’s charm slithering, sukuna’s vulgar teeth, shiu’s smoke curling around a wavering heart.
and when the night falls, when your wives curl against you in bed, he does not leave. he crawls to their side, bows his head at their feet, and whispers with the same broken voice he uses on your cunt.
“don’t listen. don’t let them take you from her. don’t let them poison your hearts. you belong to her. i belong to her. we are hers.”
your wives giggle, stroke his hair like he’s a beast chained to their ankles, and they mock him “good dog, guarding us too.” but their eyes soften. they trust him, in the way one trusts a hound snarling at the edge of the woods.
and you when you wake in the night and see him there, crouched low between your wives and the door, his massive body blocking the shadows, his head bowed, you realize something bitter.
the others want to conquer you. toji only wants to keep you.
and though his face is still wet from licking your cunt raw, though his chest heaves with humiliation, he is the only barrier left between your women and the men who would tear them apart to reach you.
you wake to silence where there should be whispers. your wives are gone from your bed, the silk still warm where they slept. your heart stirs uneasily, and when you rise, barefoot across the polished floor, you see it one of them, your soft-haired bride, slipping out of a shadowed hall with her face pale and eyes wide.
behind her, toji.
but not crawling. not bent. not on his knees.
he walks. broad and hulking, servant’s cloth clinging to his chest, sweat shining on his neck, his scars alive in the torchlight. in his grip, your wife’s wrist, his huge hand engulfing it as he drags her back into the chamber.
your breath catches. the sight of his body upright, manly and monstrous, after weeks of crawling like a hound it rattles something deep in your chest.
he shoves her forward, and she falls to her knees at the foot of your bed, weeping.
“she was with nanami,” toji says, voice low, rough, the old power simmering beneath every word. “listening to his poison. letting him whisper that you are only flesh, not goddess. that you could be stolen.”
your face decomposes. betrayal strikes deeper than any blade. one of your own your beloved wife letting a man’s lies into her ears. you sit heavily on the edge of your majestic bed, silk pooling around you, hands trembling as your eyes fix on her sobbing face.
“how could you?” your voice cracks, heavy with both grief and fury. “after i gave you my body, after you worshipped me, how could you bend to him?”
she crawls forward, clinging to the hem of your gown, crying apologies, but the hurt already poisons the air.
then toji moves.
he steps close, towering, his shadow covering both of you. and then he sits on your bed, beside you, uninvited, yet filling the space like he owns it. his weight makes the mattress dip, his heat spreads over your skin, his massive body dwarfing you even wrapped in silk.
he pulls you into his lap with ease, your thighs falling over the bulk of his, your back pressed against the thick plane of his chest. his hands, still rough from the sword and the axe, curl around your waist, holding you firm.
his mouth lowers to your ear, his breath hot. “you see now,” he murmurs, voice guttural, “you can’t even trust your own women. they will falter. they will listen. they will betray.”
you shudder, your tears spilling again, your head tipping back against his shoulder.
“only i,” he whispers, lips grazing your hair, “only i will not. i am your dog, your guard, your man. i killed my own blood rather than let him steal you. i crawl, i beg, i bleed, but i never stray.”
his grip tightens on your waist, pulling you flush against his chest, his heartbeat hammering steady and heavy into your back.
“you can only trust me, goddess. your women weep, your men scheme. but me...” his lips brush the shell of your ear, “i stay. i kneel. i guard. i serve. only me.”
the chamber is thick with the sound of your wife’s sobbing on the floor, the silence of betrayal. but toji’s voice drowns it out, low and steady, wrapping around your heart like chains.
and for the first time, sitting on your own bed in the lap of the man you swore would never rise, you feel the sharp twist of doubt.
God damn this is so good???
i need another freaky thought exchange because yet another thought is flooding my mind…
Just imagine in the heat of the moment accidentally calling toji dad.
Augh. 💔
He likes it too…he makes you say it again…and again…and again…
Anyway…thank yewww for the follow back i feel so special. ☺️
not you being the chosen one rn 🩷 ur literally lucky cause i wrote this exact dad slip-up thing months ago but was too scared to post it… 🧍🏻♀️like i had it sitting there, collecting dust and shame. BUT NOW??? it’s your lucky dayyy i might just drop it 👀 so thank u for unblocking the memorie… enjoy bb🎀
18+ ONLY 📌 disclaimer: ♡ this is a fictional piece intended for mature audiences only. it explores dark and taboo themes purely through fantasy and does not reflect real life beliefs or behaviors.. please read at your own discretion ♡
older!toji x younger!f!reader🎀 age gap, daddy k!nk, cock worship, soft degradation, tummy bulge, slow fucking, possessive older!toji, size kink, accidental ‘dad’ slip, oral fixation, body worship, domestic corruption, creampie | 1,9k words♥︎
he was on top of you again. big, broad, warm. that kind of weight that settles over your hips and doesn’t leave until he’s emptied himself inside you twice, sometimes three times, depending on how late he gets home. it was always like this after those late nights, whatever job he was doing, whatever cash heavy errands he was running. he never told you. you never asked. all you knew was when the key turned in your apartment door past midnight and that voice called for you in a low murmur, he was already undoing his belt.
and you always let him in. every time.
he’d helped you once, months ago lifting furniture into your apartment, tightening legs onto a coffee table you ordered off some cheap site. he brought his tools. he stayed longer than he needed. and now… now he stayed every week.
his body dwarfed yours. not sculpted just heavy. all chest and arms and soft belly that rubbed against yours when he rocked in deep. his forearms were thick and dusted with dark hair, wrists wide and wrists strong. there was always that silver watch still on him, clinging to one arm like a symbol of how quickly he’d slid in without changing out of his day. he never fully undressed. just rolled his sleeves back, undid a few buttons, let his slacks fall low and his cock stretch you slow from below.
you were folded under him now, thighs pulled all the way up against your chest, your feet barely balanced on the inside of his elbows. one of his hands kept your thigh tight to his side while the other stroked over your shin, thumb grazing your ankle like he was calming you not that he ever stopped fucking you while he did it.
his hips moved slow. not lazy. intentional. he filled you each time with that fat, heavy older cock, dragging the whole length out just to press it back in, long and thick and satisfying. the kind of stretch that made your belly swell up with pressure, the kind that made you gasp and sob and press your knuckles against your lips like it would soften the sound.
you felt everything. the subtle grind of his hips when he stayed seated all the way in. the brush of his trimmed pubes against your folds. the weight of his thighs slotted against your ass. the slight bounce of your soft tummy with each nudge, the warm sweat gathering in the crease of your back where his chest occasionally lowered just enough to kiss it.
his cologne was still fresh on his shirt collar tom ford grey vetiver but muted now, clinging to the skin under his neck, blending with the faint smoky musk of his post-work cigarette. it made your eyes flutter every time he leaned down and exhaled near your face.
he kissed your jaw. then your neck. his mouth moved lazily, like he had all the time in the world, like he’d already decided he was going to stay inside you for the rest of the night.
that’s it, baby… his voice barely above a whisper, relax for me. you’re so sweet like this. my good girl. my soft little thing.
you could barely answer. your face was flushed, lips damp, eyes half-closed and glossy with that dumb heat that always crept in when he got too deep.
mmm— you gasped, breath catching as his hips rolled in again, slower, deeper, more deliberate. your walls clenched around him, fluttering tight from the stretch. s’too much…
he shushed you gently, kissing the corner of your mouth like you were just tired, just spoiled, like you didn’t even realize how much he loved how you said that every time.
you can take it, pretty girl. you always do.
his thrusts kept that same slow rhythm, but you were unraveling, toes curling, body warm and overstimulated already. your thighs trembled against his arms, and he held them tighter, watching the way your belly jiggled with every roll of his hips. he stared at it for a moment, then pressed his large palm down over the bulge where his cock stretched you, smearing it gently.
look at that, he muttered low, almost to himself. so soft all over.
you moaned, almost startled, your hand flying up to grip his wrist eyes big and glassy and desperate.
you nodded before thinking, lips parted, voice sticky and breathless.
mm’yes dad…
and just like that..
his hips paused, his weight grounding into you fully as he exhaled through his nose, still, still deep inside. your eyes widened the second it slipped out your chest rising in panic, face burning.
but he didn’t move away. didn’t laugh. didn’t correct you.
he leaned in, slow, voice thicker now, darker, low enough to graze your pulse.
what did you just call me, sweetheart?
his cock throbbed once inside you. his palm stayed warm on your belly.
you froze. trembling. flushed.
he kissed your temple.
mmm go on, pretty. say it again. you know what i like. say it for dad.
his cock twitched inside you again, thicker somehow now that you’d said it now that the word had dropped so sweet and shameful from your lips. his hands were still cradling your thighs, that warm palm still pressing against the soft rise of your belly where his cock showed, and he didn’t even blink.
he just smiled.
not wide. not amused. something smaller. darker. like he’d always known you were this kind of girl. like he was just waiting for you to admit it.
so that’s what you really think of me, he murmured, voice low and syrup-thick, dragging across your skin like smoke. you knew what you were doing when you let me in. when you let a man twice your age keep his key. when you let your… dad take care of you.
he said it on purpose.
‘dad.’
like it was always supposed to be that way.
your body stuttered beneath him, eyes wet, hands curled up near your face like you didn’t know what to do with them. he leaned down, lowering the weight of his chest onto yours, that thick belly pressing to your soft middle, cock seated so deep it made your toes curl.
don’t be shy now, baby, he whispered, kissing just below your eye, you said it first.
his hips rolled once, slow and filthy, grinding his cock right into the sweet spot that made your breath catch in your throat. your legs trembled in his grip.
you know daddy takes care of everything, he went on, lazy and warm, like he was explaining something to a child. pays your rent, fills your fridge, keeps that pretty pussy nice and stretched. you don’t even have to think anymore, do you?
you whimpered, biting your knuckle, your walls fluttering tight around him. your body was betraying you, soaking around the base of his cock, hot and slippery.
he laughed softly.
look at you, he grinned, nuzzling into your cheek, so fuckin’ adorable. so full. you’re just my little girl, aren’t you? my dumb, needy baby.
his hand came up to cup your cheek, thumb dragging down to smear your lip, then slipping between them pressing down on your tongue, making you drool a little as he rocked into you again.
open wide for dad. lemme hear you say it right.
you blinked, pupils blown out, tongue stretched around his thumb.
dad…
again.
dad… oh god—daddy…
his breath hitched. his hips moved faster now, less patient, his weight driving you deeper into the bed. your stomach bounced with every thrust, your thighs slick and trembling, voice cracking from the stretch.
he kissed your mouth, still muttering against it.
that’s my girl. my sweet daughter.
you whimpered, legs falling open wider for him, his body swaying over you like a shadow. and he just kept whispering it over and over my girl. my baby. my daughter.
his hips kept moving again slow at first, the kind of rhythm that made you cry just from the weight of it. every time he drove in, it forced a gasp out of your lungs, your thighs shaking against his thick torso. his cock was heavy, fat, dragging along every soaked inch inside you, spreading your walls until all you could do was hold your breath and take it.
his abs tightened every time he pushed in deep those carved v-lines flexing, veins twitching along his arms and neck. sweat beaded at his collarbone, dripping down his chest, catching in the trail of hair that disappeared below his stomach. his skin slapped against yours, hot and rough and real, the kind of weight you couldn’t fake.
and he watched it all. watched your tits bounce with every grind, watched your belly jiggle where it met his, your soft thighs squeezing his sides.
you love this, don’t you? he growled, low and raw, his voice shredded with heat. daddy’s cock feels too good, huh? my baby’s all dumb on it now.
you whimpered, eyes rolling up, your hands scrabbling for his arms, his shoulders, anything to hold. and he let you. let you clutch him while he fucked deeper. let you cry.
say it again, he murmured, cupping both your cheeks in his big hand, making you look at him, breathless and glassy-eyed. say it for daddy. let me hear it.
you sobbed, a soft helpless sound, lips wobbling under his palm.
mm—dad… i like it when you do that, you sniffled, blinking up at him, when you talk to me like that…
he groaned, loud this time, hips stuttering forward harder, faster, the muscles in his back flexing beneath your hands.
fuck. he gasped, sweat dripping down his temples as his thrusts picked up, brutal now, like he couldn’t hold back anymore. you don’t even know how pretty you are when you cry for it. my girl. my little fuckin’ girl.
he grabbed both your thighs, pushed them higher, holding you open while he drove in deep balls slapping against your ass, the sound of it obscene and wet. you felt him everywhere now. the stretch. the pressure. the heat.
his cock kissed your cervix, hips slamming in hard enough to bounce the bedframe, to leave you dizzy and blinking through tears.
daddy’s gonna cum, baby. you gonna take it all for me? my sweet baby girl gonna let her father fill her up, yeah?
you nodded, tears slipping sideways off your cheeks, mouth open, tongue out.
please, dad… wan’ all of it, please—
he groaned loud, hand grabbing your face again, fingers spreading your cheeks as he leaned down and kissed your mouth hard, messy, teeth clashing.
and then he came.
thrust buried deep. cock pulsing thick and slow. his hips grinding down like he was trying to keep it all in you. his voice dropped into a hoarse growl as he whispered right against your lips:
that’s it. take it, baby. take all your daddy’s cum. mmm such a good girl for her dad.
he stayed there, weight pressing into you, cock still twitching inside, hand still on your face like he couldn’t stop touching you. like he didn’t want to leave.
because he was your dad now. the only one that mattered.
and you were his precious babygirl…
^_−☆thank u sm to everyone who’s been reading this filth and especially to my lil slut who requested it 🫶🏽
i’m sorry it took me forever to continue & that it’s a lil short i’ve been in my rotting slowly in silence era 😭 but i finally picked it up again for u.
thank u for being patient and horny and deranged with me. i’ll try to keep going now that i’m back in the mood.
stay nasty ♡
🎀 toji taglist 🎀
@loreleiblerp @yumyumyu @cottoncandyswirls
@roxytheimmortal @caithyy @vegeta-love
@thatoneweirdkidattheplayground @dollyase
@grignardsreagent @wh0r3f0rchoso @bunnsiibrainz
@pr3ttys1ckd0ll @tisuruxx @dolmamuncher
@thekkatherineblogg @palestrawberrycollection
@awaiteddream @musishea @freddiweasly
@duckduckgoose90000 @pwuresakura @chewiebee
@fandomlover1235 @tailamone @inzayneforaj @dollfwn
@gktdh @cuti3zwombi3 @pepathefarmer @whosmarjj
@06-25 @razbunz @mimiluvzu2 @justagirli3
@pinkcokebythepinksand @evelynender @unusual-person @yunionio
send an ask if u want to be add to toji taglist 💗
onlypinkslut
i love u 💔💔
riding older bf toji
tw: age gap (reader is early 20s, toji is early 40s)
mdni! 🔞
“such a good girl, baby. fuck..” toji murmured, his hands on your hips as you straddled his waist. “way too good for an old man like me…”
you’re currently naked in your boyfriends lap, your arms loosely wrapped around his neck as you took his length inside of you.
he’s so big, pulsing and making your walls burn in the best way possible. you’re whining, clenching tight around his dick as you slide up and sink back down.
he’s leaning back against the headboard, looking up at you with half lidded, lazy eyes.
you’re so close to him that you can see the grey hair in his stubble that he tries so hard to keep out of your sight. he doesn’t want you to see him aging like this while you stay young and lively and fun.
you’re growing more and more exhausted, but his big, calloused hands on your hips are helping to guide you up and down.
“mngh… t-toji.. m’tired.” you whine, your movements slowing. you both were on the cusp of your orgasms, but your thighs were aching and burning, and every time he pushed in fully, it practically knocked the wind out of you.
“i know, sweetheart.” he whispered lowly, his voice rough. one of his hands snaked up your spine, cradling the back of your head and pulling you down into a deep kiss. “keep going f’me. i know you can.” he whispered against your lips.
his hand that had been on your hip moved down to your ass, smacking it gently before squeezing at the soft flesh.
you yelped from the mixture of pain and pleasure, the feeling giving you enough energy to move your hips again with his guidance.
“too much…” you whine, but you continue to move at a steady pace, your head dropping to rest in his neck. the stubble on his jaw scratched against your temple as you moved.
“just like that baby.. you’re doing so good. just a little more.” he muttered, his voice becoming rougher as his orgasm grew closer.
you felt a warmth tingling in your lower stomach, making your toes curl. toji could practically sense that, his fingers moving down to slowly, yet firmly, play with your clit, making you jolt.
“m’gonna cum.. mmf- toji, k-keep doing that…” you whimpered, rocking your hips faster, pulling suppressed groans from his lips.
“cum for me, baby. you worked so hard my sweet girl.” his free hand gently held the back of your head, still buried in his neck.
his words tipped you over, and you came with a loud cry, squeezing impossibly tight around him.
he followed right after you (always making sure you finish first, of course), his sticky release filling you up.
the two of you just sat there for a few minutes, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your bare back, whispering to you about how good you were while you hid your face in his neck.
even though your boyfriend was getting older, and his stamina might not be what it used to be, all he could do was hope that you wouldn’t grow tired of him.
he knows someone like you, young, sweet, and gorgeous, could have anyone you’d like. he didn’t deserve you, and sometimes he questioned why you even loved him.
but moments like this, when he was holding you and making you feel good, toji fushiguro, a man who never felt deserving of anything, really felt like he could just be with someone for once.
||a/n: this got kinda sad at the end soz lol
anyway i’m replaying silent hill 2 rn and i just luv james so much poor baby
- vie 💤
ೃ࿔ TABOO CRUSH ☾
SYNOPSIS: you’re megumi’s best friend first, but you can’t help also being his dad’s biggest mma fan
PAIRING — mma!toji fushiguro x uni!reader
CONTENT — MDNI, angst, NSFW, filthy, age gap, nsfw, thigh riding, pet names, MAJOR spit kink, virginity loss, corruption kink, spanking, cheating, daddy kink, pussy slapping, cunninglingus, creampie, unprotected, dacriphilia,
A/N — end of fic for informational + donation links 🍉
you were just a girl. and being a girl you obviously fangirled over silly things.
it varied really. you fangirled over one piece, aot, video game characters, film characters, peaky blinders, game of thrones, k-dramas, and of course sports. you had silly crushes on soccer players, but the one athlete who truly dominated your heart was the best mma fighter of all time and that was none other than, Toji Fushiguro.
“megumiiii!” you run over to the boy, throwing yourself on his back making him stumble, just as yuuji came, also jumping on megumi.
nobara was running as well with her shopping bags and boba before gasping for air by the time she reached the doorstep of the fushiguro household.
“we missed you!” yuuji whines. the three of you decided to pay megumi a visit after his weeklong absence due to his cold.
“get off me.” he grunts.
“it’s okay! we don’t care that you’re sick!” you dramatically cry out, yuuji crying as well as you kiss megumi’s cheek—
ೃ࿔ NOT INSIDE ☾
mma!toji finds out he was your first time
tags — unprotected, size kink, LIL ANGST, toji cums a lot, pull out game: 0, nsfw, age gap, spanking, spit kink, squirting x10, tit worship, fingering, CORRUPTION KINK, cum dump, pet names (puppy, babygirl), blowjob, overstimulation, dumbification, dacriphilia,
notes — all links are informational, not nsfw! OPEN THEM!
toji is old fashioned depending on his mood. if he’s completely exhausted, he’ll put on a condom because he’ll be too lazy to pull out the last second. but if he knows he’s going multiple rounds, he’ll want to pull out and spill his seed on her face, ass, or wherever she begged him too. so he usually never puts on a condom.
of course it was never a problem until it came to you.
“you’re angry again?” toji groans, rolling his neck as he watches you grab your things from his bathroom and start putting it in your bag.
as you can tell. you’re currently in an argument with toji. he’d woken up to the sound of his front door being slammed open and you barging into his bedroom.
“we’re done. fucking dick!” you’re practically seething, stumbling on your feet and falling on his carpet only to crawl and grab your underwear from under the bed and shove it in your bag.
“what’s going on?” toji is sitting up, voice raspy and low as he itches his bare chest. “cmere baby, tell me what happened.”

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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pairing: Gojo x afab!reader content: no use of y/n or pronouns, NO PLOT JUST PORN, BREEDING KINK, mentions of PREGNANCY and BABY TRAPPING, unestablished relationship, gojo is such a tease, dirty talk, doggy, teasing, fingering, oral (f receiving) , he eats it from the back, eye contact, cervix kissing (?), multiple orgasms, gaslighting (?), Gojo doesn't know when to shut the fuck up, no after care sowy word count: 3.3k
(a.n) wrote this cause i couldnt stop thinking abt the 'plap plap plap get pregnant get pregnant' meme lol also have y'all noticed I have a thing for cream pies lol? wrote this listening to 'Martillazo- Dani Flow'
MDNI
i think being fingered so deeply that their palm stays grinding up against your clit with each thrust of their fingers is very romantic actually
18 + warning only minors dni. this is incest. do not read if you can't handle what you clicked.
uncle toji x niece f!reader🎀 taboo, filthy, forbidden, age gap, dubcon, manipulation, cockwarming, public risk
the house smelled like baked fish, hot fabric softener, and cheap wine. your mom was in the kitchen with tsumiki, toji’s wife, both of them laughing too loud over some story about a neighbor’s divorce. they’d been drinking since lunch. your aunt’s voice had that glossy, fake warmth it always did when she was playing housewife, and your mom kept smiling like she wasn’t annoyed.
megumi your cousin was on the floor in front of the couch, stretched out with a ps5 controller in his hands, the sound of gunfire and clicky buttons filling the room. he hadn’t said more than ten words to you all day, too locked into his game. you didn’t mind. you two were close. he was always gentle with you, even now when he barely talked. it was just how he was.
you were sitting at the edge of the couch, thighs pressed together in your pale blue skirt, trying not to sweat through your top. tsumiki kept calling you cute. said you were getting so grown up, so curvy. your mom rolled her eyes and kept saying things like she’s still my baby.
toji was on the other end of the couch.
you hadn’t seen him in over a year. he looked even bigger now, thicker around the chest, arms, neck. his black hair messier, jaw heavier with stubble. the kind of body that felt too solid for a living room like this. he wore a tank top that looked like it had been washed too many times and gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips. he barely talked. just leaned back with his legs spread and his phone resting on his thigh.
he kept looking at you.
nothing intense. nothing you could call out. just long enough for your skin to tighten under your dress.
and then came the baby pictures.
your mom came back from the hallway with an old photo album, cheeks flushed from the wine. she plopped down right between you and toji, flipping it open onto her lap, calling tsumiki over to come look.
look at this, she said, giggling, her finger pointing at a picture of you maybe three or four years old, smiling with your baby teeth as toji held you in one arm.
remember that day? you wouldn’t stop crying unless he picked you up. he used to call her his little baby wife, can you believe that?
tsumiki gasped like it was adorable. oh my god, toji, you were obsessed with her. look at your face.
he didn’t deny it. just leaned in, looking down at the photo with his mouth tilted into a quiet smirk.
you felt something burn under your cheeks.
there were more. you in a swimsuit sitting on his lap. you napping against his chest. one where your mouth was on his cheek and his hand was wrapped around your little body, like he owned you.
your mom nudged your arm.
you were always attached to him, remember? always climbing on him like a little monkey.
toji spoke then, low and rough.
she was clingy. wouldn’t leave her favorite uncle alone.
his voice made your stomach flip.
then he looked over at you.
his eyes didn’t move away when he leaned in and kissed you.
not your cheek. your mouth.
not long. not rough. but on the lips. slow, innocent. like it meant nothing.
your breath caught.
tsumiki didn’t blink. your mom just laughed, waving her hand.
stop spoiling her, she’s not your baby anymore.
but he didn’t say anything. just leaned back again, watching you like he was waiting for something.
you didn’t say anything either.
a few minutes later, he stood up.
gonna smoke, he said, voice deep, reaching lazily into his pocket. he grabbed his lighter and walked out through the back door, the screen sliding shut behind him.
his phone was still on the couch.
right beside you.
you glanced around. tsumiki had gone to grab something. your mom was in the hallway on the phone now. megumi your cousin hadn’t moved, headset on, muttering into the mic.
you picked it up.
you weren’t planning to do anything weird. you just wanted to check if he had games on it or maybe look something up. you opened his browser. maybe to google something random. but when it opened..
it was already on a tab.
the couch was warm from where he’d been sitting.
he always sat wide legs open, arms stretched across the backrest like he owned the room, the kind of man whose body took up space just by existing. his scent still lingered: strong manly cologne, mixed with the lingering smoke he left behind when he stepped out for a cigarette. his phone was there, screen lit up faintly beside you. he hadn’t locked it.
you shouldn’t have touched it.
but you did.
your fingers were sticky from the heat, thighs pressed tight together under the fabric of your skirt, and you just wanted something to do. you didn’t think. didn’t plan. you opened the browser to search something dumb, some makeup brand or show you heard about earlier.
but the tab was already open.
a porn site.
the name meant nothing. just a black background and cheap orange font. rows of thumbnails, low-lit videos with words like raw, rough, crying, used. your heart thudded. your thumb hesitated. hovered. tapped.
and it played.
real video. not cartoon, not fake.
a woman. she was lying back on a couch, legs lifted high, panties halfway off one ankle. the camera was too close. shaky. you could see the string of wetness stuck to the man’s fingers as he spread her open, rubbing slow circles around her clit while she twitched and cried out.
her moans were soft. girlish. a little desperate.
he pushed two fingers in. the angle was too good. her pussy stretched around them, slick and pink. she gasped, legs shaking, mouth falling open.
you stared.
your whole body went still.
then warmer. lower. pulsing.
your thighs rubbed together without meaning to. the cotton between them dampened slowly.
you turned the volume down. not all the way. just a little.
no one in the room looked at you. your mom and tsumiki were still in the kitchen, laughing over wine and fruit. megumi was on the floor playing his game. no one cared. no one saw.
you brought the phone closer, half hiding it under your skirt.
the video got louder. wetter. his fingers moved faster. the girl’s moans climbed higher. her stomach trembled, her eyes fluttered. she was so wet it dripped onto the couch beneath her.
and you could feel it in your own body. that ache.
your knees pressed tighter. your breath shallow.
your fingers clutched the phone harder.
the screen dimmed just slightly and your reflection flickered across the glossy glass, eyes wide, lips parted.
then the couch dipped.
you didn’t hear him come in. but you felt it instantly.
the weight beside you. the warmth. the shape of his body. he sat the same way he always did wide, relaxed, sweaty. his thigh touched yours. his breath smelled like smoke and mint. his tank top clung to the curves of his chest, stretched tight over his abs. his sweatpants hung loose on his hips, the fabric shifting as he adjusted.
his arm stretched out behind you, resting lazily across the couch back.
he looked forward. didn’t say a word.
your whole body froze.
he didn’t look at the screen. not right away. just sat there like it was nothing. like you weren’t sitting beside him with his phone in your lap, thighs clenched, heat blooming between your legs.
then his eyes drifted down.
just a glance.
he saw the video.
the girl was crying now. not from pain. from overstimulation. her legs were shaking. the man was kissing her inner thighs, tongue wet, sloppy, thick spit dripping between her folds. her pussy was red and raw and soaked.
you couldn’t look away.
you didn’t even flinch when he reached down casual and nudged the volume all the way down with two fingers. his knuckles brushed your thigh.
you stiffened.
he didn’t say a thing.
tsumiki called out toji, where’d you put the wine opener?
he answered without looking away from the tv.
drawer by the sink.
his voice was steady. bored.
but his hand dropped down again. fingers light, resting near your knee. not moving. not touching you. just there. hovering close.
you kept watching.
the man was fucking her now. slow strokes. deep. you could see how much of him slid inside. her pussy stretched open with every thrust. she couldn’t stop moaning, her hands gripping the couch, her voice broken and helpless.
your thighs rubbed harder. your breath caught in your chest.
his hand moved.
not far.
just slid over your knee. rested on the hem of your dress. fingers curling in slightly.
he still didn’t look at you.
just leaned back. pressed a slow kiss to your cheek.
you okay, sweetheart?
his voice was soft.
you didn’t answer.
your hands were shaking slightly, holding the phone like it was an anchor.
the video ended.
he reached down again. warm fingers brushing yours. swiped.
another one loaded.
a girl on her knees this time. eyes wide, mouth open. drool sliding down her chin. mascara smudged. her thighs trembling as a man pulled her hair back, fed her inch after inch of cock with both hands. her throat bulged. she moaned around it.
Toji’s voice didn’t change.
you ever done that?
he asked like it was small talk.
you didn’t reply.
his thumb stroked your leg, slow, low, almost lazy.
you should learn, he murmured near your ear.
you’ve got a pretty little mouth for that, baby.
the living room was quiet now.
the sliding door was half open, letting in the sound of voices and laughter from the garden. your mom and tsumiki were busy with trays of meat, their heels clicking against the stone patio. megumi was already outside too with your other cousins, arguing over who’d grill better, shouting over music and the sizzle of coal. they’d left you and toji inside to grab the drinks. just a minute. just long enough.
the porn was still playing on his phone in your lap.
another video now rougher than before. the girl was straddling a man’s lap, bouncing slow, tits out, eyes rolling back while her moans got wetter, more desperate. his hands were on her hips, dragging her down onto his cock over and over, her pussy slick and stretched wide around him.
you couldn’t stop watching.
your panties were soaked.
toji’s arm rested heavy behind your shoulders again, warm and solid. his fingers brushed your hair. his thigh touched yours, big and thick, the muscle shifting every time he breathed. he hadn’t taken the phone away. hadn’t told you to stop. just kept watching you watch it.
you shifted in place, thighs rubbing under your dress.
your breath came slow. you turned toward him. barely.
and whispered.
does yours look like that?
his head turned.
his eyes dropped to your mouth. then the phone. then back to your face.
he let out a low breath that sounded almost like a laugh.
what kinda question is that, baby?
you blinked. your voice even softer now.
i just wanna know. i’ve never seen one in real life.
he rubbed the back of his neck. smirked. looked toward the open door like someone might walk in.
you shouldn’t be asking that. not to me.
but he didn’t sound angry. not even serious. just… amused.
you pouted.
come on, just a little. just to compare. it won’t count.
he chuckled, eyes narrowing slightly.
nah, can’t do that. you’ll get scared.
your face flushed.
your thighs squeezed.
your fingers were twitching, aching to do something. anything.
and then you reached forward.
there was a cold soda bottle on the table one you were supposed to bring outside. condensation running down the side. you grabbed it. brought it into your lap.
and slowly quietly you pressed the bottom of it between your thighs.
toji froze.
your eyes didn’t meet his. you were staring at the screen still, lips parted as the girl in the video cried out from her orgasm, pussy fluttering around a cock too big for her.
you rubbed the bottle up. then down.
slow.
your body jerked a little.
the cold made it worse. better.
your hips rocked into it. barely. just a little rhythm. just enough to ease the ache.
you felt his gaze heavy on you.
his hand shifted. slid down your side. found your hip.
his fingers curled in your waist, slow, like he was trying not to break something.
his voice dropped low barely more than breath, right against your ear.
jesus, baby… you’re really doing it. right in front of me.
you whispered.
hurts. wanna rub it harder.
he kissed your jaw. soft. wet.
you need help?
you shook your head.
you okay, then?
you bit your lip.
mhm.
he pulled the dress fabric a little. looked down into your lap. watched the bottle roll forward again, pressing harder into your panties.
you’re soaked.
you whimpered.
he laughed under his breath.
then leaned in.
lemme see, baby. just a peek. not down there just your tits, okay? uncle just wants to make sure everything’s okay. not hurt or swollen or nothing. you’ve been watching for a while now.
you blinked up at him. dazed.
his hand was already under your top.
warm. slow. fingers dragging up.
he licked his lips.
they sore?
you shook your head.
he smiled.
good. still growing though, huh? let me feel ’em just for a sec.
you let him.
you didn’t stop grinding.
and outside your mom laughed. a bottle popped open. someone called megumi’s name.
you didnt know how long they’d been outside.
the voices were still there laughing, arguing about charcoal and skewers and who burnt what. the door was cracked open, letting in the smell of smoke and grilled meat, the late sun casting stripes across the floor. but the inside of the house felt hotter. heavier.
you were on your back now.
he’d pulled you into the corner of the couch, soft pillows under your head, legs parted and bent, your skirt bunched up high around your hips. the bottle was still there cold, wet, dragging over the soaked fabric between your thighs as you rocked against it in slow, desperate circles. and your shirt... was up. pushed just under your chin, exposing both of your tits to the warm air and toji’s hands.
his palms covered them. big, rough, warm.
he was playing with them lazily, like they were his. thumbs brushing your nipples in slow circles,
sometimes flicking, sometimes squeezing. one hand held your tit deep in his palm, kneading it while the other thumb traced soft figure-eights over the tip until you gasped.
he was watching your face.
then your tits.
then the bottle moving between your legs.
his voice was low. dark.
youre such a sweet girl, baby.
his thumb rolled harder, nipple sliding under his skin.
so eager to learn.
you were panting. your eyes fluttered open, lips glossy from how much youd licked them.
mhm... i like it... you’re way more handsome than the boys at school... no one looks like you.
his smile twitched.
nah?
you shook your head.
even the other uncles... they’re old and ugly.. no one looks like you.. you’re strong, handsome, muscular.
he chuckled.
his thumb flicked again.
damn right, thats because those boys are little. they dont know how to take care of a girl like you.
you squirmed. your hips rolled again.
he leaned over your face, warm breath brushing your cheek.
sweetheart. you ever heard of the game of the cock?
you blinked.
your voice came out tiny.
no.
he kissed your nipple.
his hand dragged over your stomach, slow.
its not sex, okay? its not bad. its just a game.
his lips touched your throat. his voice stayed quiet.
s’when a man rubs his big cock on a girl’s pussy... soft. not in. not deep. just enough to touch. to feel her heat. maybe make her leak a little.
you moaned softly.
he kissed your tit again.
he doesnt put it inside. he just lays it there. like a pillow. like its resting. just kissing her pussy.
you arched your back.
you wanna try it, baby?
he pinched your nipple softly.
you wanna play the cock game with uncle?
the bottle slipped deeper between your thighs. your hips humped harder. your mouth dropped open.
your voice was thick and whiny.
mhm... mm-mm... but just a little..
he grinned against your skin.
just a little, yeah..
he kissed you.
deep. wet. tongue slipping into your mouth slow like he was taking it inch by inch.
your legs spread wider.
your dress was bunched around your hips now, the cold bottle wet between your thighs, your panties soaked through and clinging like a second skin. toji was bent over you, both hands full of your tits, licking them like he was starved. he dragged his tongue slow around each nipple, lips curling around the peaks, sucking with wet pops that made your stomach clench. his fingers gripped both breasts, squeezing them together, giving them a soft shake.
fuck. look at these. bouncing all dumb for me.
you whimpered, body melting into the couch, eyes glassy. your mouth hung open. you felt drunk,
dizzy, warm all over.
his mouth latched onto your left nipple again, tongue circling it messily while his hand rolled the other. you didnt even notice your hips movinggrinding into the bottle again, seeking friction like it was the only thing keeping you from crying.
he was licking your tits like he’d done it before. like he’d always wanted to. like he owned them.
his tongue was slow and messy, dragging long, wet strokes over the soft skin before curling around your nipple and sucking it deep into his mouth. his stubble scratched lightly, his nose brushing your chest as he moaned like it tasted good. his hands were full of you palming both tits, squeezing them together, playing with them like toys, warm fingers flicking and rolling your nipples while his mouth stayed glued to your skin.
you were laid back fully now, your shirt pushed under your chin, dress hiked around your waist, panties soaked. your legs were parted wide across the couch cushions, bent open, and the cold bottle you were holding earlier was still rubbing back and forth over your clit through the fabric. sticky. noisy now.
you were flushed and dizzy, your brain hot and slow. your words came out soft and messy, breathy little thoughts that felt innocent to say.
do you… do this to tsumiki too?
his lips paused on your nipple.
then he kissed it again. sucked it slow.
nah. she’s not soft like this.
you blinked slowly. your mouth open. your voice sounded far away.
do you… play the game of the cock with her too?
he lifted his head.
his mouth was wet. your nipple popped out of his mouth with a string of spit.
he grinned.
his eyes looked darker now. hungrier.
his thumb pinched your other nipple.
you think i rub my cock on that dry pussy just to kiss it?
you blinked. slow.
i dunno… maybe… if megumi wasn’t home…
he laughed quietly and leaned in close to your face. kissed your cheek. then your mouth.
nah, baby. this game’s only for my sweet niece.
you were squirming under him now, thighs shaking as you rocked harder into the bottle. it wasn’t enough. your panties were soaked through. your whole pussy ached. swollen. twitching.
uncle… it hurts…
he kissed down your chest. his tongue licked a long line across both tits. then he gripped them together again, rolling them under his palms and giving them a little bounce.
you need it bad, huh?
mhm… yes…
you sounded soft. whiny. your lashes fluttered and your lip trembled.
he pulled your panties aside.
your slick made a string snap between the cotton and your folds. you whined when the air hit you. your pussy was red, wet, shiny with arousal. twitching every time your hips shifted.
and then he pulled his sweatpants down just enough.
and his cock dropped out, thick and heavy, veiny and flushed, the head already wet. he gripped the base lazily and leaned over your hips.
you wanna play, baby?
he said it like a secret.
you nodded, legs trembling.
you wanna play the cock game?
your voice was so soft you barely heard yourself.
just a little…
he smiled.
then let it kiss your little pussy, makes you leak little bit, sweetheart.
he pushed his cock down. not in. just between your folds.
your breath caught. your pussy clenched around nothing.
he started rubbing it. slow. up and down. the thick head dragging over your clit, through your slick lips, parting you like he belonged there.
you moaned.
your hips jerked.
his voice stayed steady.
see? not sex. not bad. just a kiss.
your thighs twitched. his cock kept gliding, heavy and smooth, sliding through your slick like it was lotion.
you sobbed out a little breath.
don’t stop..
his thumb rubbed your nipple.
i won’t, baby. let uncle kiss it. real slow.
his cock was thick and hot, sliding through your folds again and again, slow and wet and heavy.
you were completely spread now, panties shoved to the side, your pussy swollen and slick and twitching. he pressed the tip down over your clit and dragged it lower, grinding the full weight of his cock right between your puffy lips, never pushing in, just rubbing. back and forth.
like he said.
just a game.
your back arched. your head tilted. the bottle had fallen from your hands. your thighs were shaking too much to hold anything now. you couldnt stop moaning.
your shirt was still bunched up under your neck, your tits out, bouncing softly in time with his movement. his hands were there againbig, hot palms gripping both tits, squeezing them, shaking them slightly while he groaned under his breath.
fuck, baby... your bodys perfect... made for this...
you sobbed.
his cock dragged through your folds again, slower now, like he was savoring how soft your pussy felt hugging him from the outside. he could feel every twitch. every droplet. every heartbeat.
his voice dropped lower, mouth brushing your ear.
you know how many times i thought about this? jerking off to the idea of rubbing it right here... just
like this...
you cried out, one hand gripping the cushion, the other pressed against his abs. he was sweating.
warm all over. his chest rising and falling over you, his voice staying calm.
this isnt sex, baby. were just playing. no ones getting hurt.
you whimpered.
his hips rocked forward. the thick head of his cock nudged your clit again. it throbbed against you.
your thighs jerked.
he kissed your neck.
tsumiki never made me hard like this. never. even when we fucked, i didnt get like this. but your little pussys so messy i could cum just from this. and were not even doing anything bad.
his hands squeezed your tits again, harder now, rougher. his thumbs flicked your nipples, rubbed
them in tight circles.
his cock was resting right at your entrance, fat and slick, twitching against your folds like it was
waiting for permission it didnt need.
you were spread wide, panties pushed aside, soaked and sticky, your shirt shoved up to your neck
and tits glistening from his spit. your legs trembled, open for him like youd been waiting your whole
life to be filled this way. you werent even thinking anymorejust blinking up at him, dazed, dumb,
drunk on the heat between your thighs.
you reached down and touched him. your fingers barely circled his shaft.
so thick... its so warm...
he grunted. his hand wrapped around your waist, pulling your hips higher.
feels big cause youre little, baby. thats all.
you blinked slowly. your voice was soft and slurred.
is it leaking cause it wants to go in?
he smirked, eyes on your pussy.
nah. its leaking cause it knows where it belongs.
he lined himself up.
you ready for uncle?
you nodded. breath caught in your throat.
just a little... please... just want to feel it...
his tip pressed.
and you gasped.
the stretch burned and melted all at once. your hole clung around the head, swallowing it slow, the pressure making your back arch and your moans rise up like heat.
fuck. he whispered. your pussys sucking me in.
you cried out, legs shaking.
thats it, baby. take uncle in. just the tip. no ones getting hurt.
his cock sat deep in your opening, fat head snug inside your soaked hole, not moving just. there.
pulsing. heavy.
and then the back door slid open.
your moms voice carried through the house.
toji? sweetie? whered you two go?
your blood turned to ice.
you tried to pull away.
but he grabbed your hips hard. held you down.
dont. move.
his voice was low. commanding.
you froze. still impaled on his cockhead.
his lips brushed your ear.
dont let it slip out. keep uncle warm, baby. she cant see us like this.
your pussy fluttered around him.
he kissed your neck, one hand still on your tit, squeezing softly.
you bit your lip, tears welling up.
his cock twitched inside you.
youre doing so well. holding uncle in like that. proud of you, baby.
you whimpered.
his hand rubbed slow over your belly.
you feel full, huh?
mhm...
and you know what that makes me?
you didnt answer.
say it, baby.
your voice shook.
my... my favorite uncle...
he smiled.
and youre stuffed with my cock.
he kissed you again, deep.
you stay just like this. until she go. dont let me fall out.
and you didn’t.
(〃ω〃)thank you so much for reading. your support means the world to me. every like, reblog, or comment reminds me why i love writing i’m so grateful to share this little world with you💗
onlypinksluts
family outing | t. fushiguro
authors note: happy holidays freaks.
summary: toji decides to take his pretty little stepdaughter out for a picnic
pairing: toji fushiguro x stepdaughter!reader
wc: 4k
warnings: smut under the cut + dark content (stepcest) + public sex + spitting + pussy/ass eating + mating press + breeding kink + comparison + dumbification + dacryphilia + ‘daddy’ + creampie + overstimulation + infidelity + praise + degrading + squirting + age gap (15 years) + slut shaming + lmk if i missed anything mwah
others: inspired by these videos: 1 2, unedited
i wanna freak you baby in every freakin' way
perverted boyfriend toji who would wake up hard against your ass and just stay there, breathing heavy into your hair like a creep, not even trying to hide how bad he wants it. "shit... you smell like sex even when you're sleepin'," he'd say hand sliding down slow to cup your pussy over your panties just to feel the heat.
toji who would feel that tiny hitch and know you’re up, so he waits before hooking one finger under the edge of your panties and tugging them aside slow. spreads your lips with his thumb and middle finger, "look at this greedy little thing already shiny for me."
he then brings it up to his mouth and suck it clean, eyes half-lidded staring at you like you're his personal porn. when he sees your thighs parting, he smirks around his finger because he knows deep down you're just as much of a freak as he is.
toji who would roll you onto your back gentle. he hovers close, nose brushing your folds inhaling deep like he’s high off it, "fuckin’ obsessed with this smell… could sniff this pussy all day."
his tongue drags one long lazy stripe from your hole to your clit, pauses to watch it swell and throb under his stare. he does it again slower, spit mixing with your wetness until it’s all glossy and messy strings connect his lips to you.
toji who would pull back just to spit right on your clit, watches it drip slow down your slit, then smears it around with his thumb in tiny circles that make your breath stutter, "you like?"
toji who would line his cock up while you’re hazy and needy, rubs the fat leaking head through your folds over and over, coating every inch of himself, "feel how fuckin’ hard you make me? that’s all you baby…every time i see this cunt i wanna live inside it." keeps teasing the entrance, tip catching and popping out ‘til you’re whining. finally sinks in inch by inch, groaning low and filthy the whole slide.
"tight… so fuckin’ tight… gonna stay buried here ‘til i can’t think straight." you gasp, nails digging into his shoulders, body arching to take him deeper.
toji who would rock slow once he’s balls-deep, just filthy little grinds so his pubes drag over your clit every circle.
"gonna keep you drippin’ my cum all day, want you walkin’ around feelin’ me leak outta this hole. my nasty little cumdump." he kisses you sloppy tasting himself on you again. you kiss back just as messy, moaning into his mouth, thighs squeezing his hips like you never want him to pull out.
toji who would pull out right at the edge, jerks himself fast over your stomach watching thick ropes splatter hot across your skin. smears it in with his palm rubbing circles like it’s lotion while you pant under him, "there marked you up nice. don’t wash it off ‘til i say, kayy?"
toji who would flop down beside you still half-hard, hand sliding right back between your legs to pet your messy swollen pussy, fingers idly circling your clit just to keep you sensitive. you sigh shaky, legs falling open wider for him, turning your face into his neck while he keeps lazily playing with your cumslick folds like he’s got nowhere else to be.

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⚘ 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬
do excuse me if this is a little all over the place, I'm writing this while I'm half asleep and my bed is very cold
Toji didn't bother closing the door anymore when he showered. There was no point because you would just waltz in and stare anyway.
The only barrier he had between you both was the steam coming from the water, which was usually cranked up to the maximum heat available in your cheap little apartment you shared
A soothing balm for Toji's ageing body, you liked to joke.
Of course, your perverted nature didn't have its days off. This time was no different. Once you heard the shower run, you bolted to the bathroom — claiming to have just been 'passing by' as usual.
The fogged-up glass didn't do much to hide Toji's body, thankfully. There he was in all his naked glory, broad shoulders flexed as his large hands cleaned himself off of all unnecessary stress you caused him.
Toji's stature had always been a marvel, in both height and sturdiness — not to mention that cock he kept tucked away down below.
But his pecs, God. They were a different story entirely. Age had done wonders on your big ol' boyfriend, softening up his chest until the sturdy slabs of meat rounded into something more plush — something you just loved to sink your fingers into and suck against.
You eyed him hungrily — taking in the way Toji's chest seemed to bounce with each of his deliberate movements. He knew you were watching, darkened nipples having pebbled into stiff peaks you so desperately wanted to flick.
It wasn't long before Toji had to begin soaping up, grumbling under his breath that you were nothing short of being that a perverted nuisance in his life as he squirted your expensive body wash into his hand.
"Yes, yeees," you mumbled to yourself, ignoring his exasperated complaints. "Juuust like that."
"Tch. Enjoying the view?" His voice called out, jaded eyes on you as you nodded without hesitation. Without shame. Then, you swallowed and walked in, fully claiming your rightful place by the shower.
You didn't get in — not yet, anyway.
Toji grunted, rough and half-amused as you watched him slide his hot palms over his chest in practised circles. The soap foamed beneath his thorough fingers, bubbly trails mixing with the water that made its way home on the dip of his softening v-line.
"Wow," you let out a breathless chuckle, cunt already aching beneath your underwear. "You suuure know how to work them tits."
"What did I say about calling them 'tits'?" Toji seemed to almost bark, head snapping your way. You could only flash him a coy grin, seeing as though the corner of his scarred mouth twitched when he dragged a fat thumb over his nipple anyway in the midst of his growing arousal.
Hah. Who's the pervert now, old man?
But all of a sudden, eyeing Toji's chest didn't quite seem like enough for your greedy self.
That's why you licked at the inside of your cheek, eyes dragging down until you were ogling at the way your boyfriend's cock was beginning to curve upwards, chubbing up the longer you gave his nude body your undivided attention.
". . . Move your hand lower, please?"
"You're unbelievable. So greedy—"
Yet Toji moved his hand down anyway, rinsing it clean of any of your body wash before he wrapped it around the base of his stiffening cock. "Like this? Or are you not satisfied with me, brat?"
"C'mon, 'ji. Squeeze it a little," you goaded, absolute greed in your eyes. "Make that cock leak for me."
Toji's head fell back, the man beginning to masturbate in the shower when really he should have been focusing on that stiffness in his lower back.
You watched eagerly as he swiped over his plump tip before thumbing at his slit before bucking his hips with a wet squelch. Ass clenching into two blocky cheeks too, mind you.
"Look at that. The big, bad Fushiguro jerking off 'cus his little girlfriend wanted a show."
"Pah. Keep running that mouth of yours, and you'll find yourself with— mmh, more than just soap in there," Toji threatened shakily, still fucking his fist like it was a makeshift pussy.
And at that, you began peeling off your own clothes — dead set on making the mixture of soap and cum indistinguishable from each other.
"Is that a threat or a promise, 'ji?"
"Fuck around and find out."
Psst fricks , you said that last line in an ask, and I just had to include it x
Toji ‘I’ll fuck you how I want when I want because I’m old enough to be your father’ Fushiguro.
cw: 18+ mdni, heavy dub-con, degradation, age gap (25 year old reader, 45 year old Toji), extreme humping, cum play, mean!Toji
Toji doesn’t like you.
You two knew each other through Shiu one way or another. And Toji immediately didn’t like you. Didn’t like that you were hanging around older men, didn’t like your laugh, didn’t like how you looked at him either such pretty whiskey brown colored doe eyes, the way you tilted your head when you were confused, how you so beautifully attentively listened and understood, and didn’t like your accidental touch that made his dick harder than it should’ve been as if he’s a fucking teenager again.
You made him feel strange. So the only thing to do was avoid you like the plague.
Very heard thing to do when you and Shiu are also close. And Shiu invited you to Tojis place to hang out but got an emergency call which caused him to leave. That was the huge sign to get out of there then. But Shiu, that idiot, suggested you two hang out. Leaving you two sitting at opposite ends of the couch. Everytime you tried to spark up conversation you’d only get a grunt or grumble in response. You pulled at your shorts that hugged yout ass too perfectly Toji had to squeeze his eyes shut, fiddling with anything you could get your hands on.
You cleared your throat, finally building the courage to look over to the large man beside you, leaned back on the couch. His head resting in his hand on the arm rest, flexing unconsciously, manspreading without a care in the world. “Do you… hate me?”
He only shifts a little, finding it unnecessary to even glance your way, scratching the slight stubble at his chin, “Yeah, probably.”
That didn’t stop him getting you on all fours on the carpet, rolling his pelvis into yours with a filthy ‘smack!’ over and over.
“Is this what you always do, huh? Fuck— Seduce old men in this little ass shorts.”
You mewl a long, ‘noooo’ letting him rock your own hips against his. The sound of fabric the only thing keeping you two of you part. He scuffs, jaw tightening as you feel his pulsing member through his sweatpants.
“Fuckin liar, know you’re fucking soakin down there want me t’ give you all ‘f my cock.”
You hiccup, head bopping up and down as a reply, your fingers reaching behind you to reach Tojis calloused hands that have a vice on your waist, “Wait- wait-“
“Shut. Up.” He grits, hooking a finger into the loop of your shorts and yanking them down in one swift motion, pretty round fat of your ass sends chills down the older man’s spine. Gripping the bare ass and guiding his flushed cock through your cheeks.
He lowly snickers, slowly thrusting his length, wetting your ass and back with pre. Guiding you back against him, “Fuck, who’d be thought you’d look pretty just like this, huh? Nngh- A young thing like you being used like a fuckin flesh light, you like this shit?”