He sighed defeatedly, leaning back against the wall. 

You were enjoying yourself, of course. That charming wolfish grin, paired with twin sharp canines flashing whenever you laughed a little too hard. Choso wondered if they were prosthetics or if they were always that sharp. He wondered what it felt like to have them sink into his shoulder. Would you bite him gently? Or tear him apart, like the wolf in the original tale? 

“Hey.” 

Choso blinked. 

And promptly started sputtering. “What,” he managed, brilliantly. “Hello?” 

You chuckled at his flustered state. His big, tired eyes—outlined with pretty purple—stared up at you like he couldn’t believe you were talking to him. 

“Hello,” you greeted him back, sweetly. “I didn’t mean to disturb you. It’s just that I couldn’t help but notice… we kind of match?” 

Choso’s ears burned red. “Ah. I—I noticed that, too.” If he didn’t know any better, he would think you were flirting with him. Suggesting the two of you matched, like you weren’t talking about costumes but something deeper. Bad for his heart. 

“Heard from your friends that you hate parties,” you continued with a smile, oblivious to his inner turmoil. “So I was surprised to see you here—as Little Red Riding Hood, no less.” 

Choso swallowed. You’d asked about him? Why had no one told him about this? 

“I was forced to come,” he admitted. “I wasn’t really planning on showing up. But now that I’m here, it’s not too bad.” He glanced at you shyly, and you swore you could feel your heart flutter. 

You nodded. “Wasn’t really much of a party person either, but after the first few ones, you just get used to the noise and crowd. Best part, though?” You let your gaze trail over him——the red lace corset cinched his waist perfectly, the petticoat beneath that little red dress, the skin-tight thigh highs and black heeled boots. Definitely not a biblically accurate Little Red Riding Hood. “You get to stare at a pretty guy all night.” 

Choso was certain he looked like a blushing mess by now. Were you flirting? Or was this just how you talked to everyone? It wouldn’t stray too far from his perception of you—you were objectively gorgeous, charismatic, a social butterfly. 

He found himself pouting a little at the thought. 

But then, a warm palm gently cupped the side of his face, and Choso let out a small sound of surprise as you brushed a tender thumb over his cheek. 

“Sorry,” you murmured sheepishly. “Just… wanted to let you know, in case you still didn’t get it. I wanted to come over here and talk to you the moment you got here.” 

Choso covered your clawed hand with his own, lips still pursed in that maddening pout. It drove you crazy with desire. “Just another ‘pretty guy’ you stare at during parties?” he whispered. 

“No,” you choked out. “I… I don’t know why I said it like that. Was trying to tell you that you looked pretty. I don’t really stare at people. Not unless they’re you.” 

Choso tried not to crack a smile at your flustered rambling. Somehow, it made you all the more endearing—like a wolf with the mannerisms of a puppy. 

“Not unless they’re me,” he echoed, teasing. “Mr Wolf… have you been stalking me?” 

You visibly swallowed. Mr Wolf. That was… fine. Great, even. You could handle that. 

“Not stalking,” you denied with a shaky laugh. Sure, you’d asked around about him. Tried to find out more about ‘the brooding guy with the permanent bored expression and signature purple eyeshadow’. Maybe you’d looked him up online, but everyone did that. “All I’m saying is, you’ve had my attention for a long time.” 

“Since the moment I walked into those woods?” 

For a swift second, you were taken aback. His eyes were wide. Hopeful. Like a little lamb begging to be devoured. And who were you to refuse? 

“Can you blame me?” you countered. “I was hungry, and you were the prettiest thing I’d ever seen.” 

Choso flushed. “S-sorry. You don’t have to play along—” 

“I want to,” you blurted, almost desperate. “Please.” 

“Okay,” Choso whispered. He could feel his heart running a marathon in his chest, the blood hot in his ears. It felt like delirium—like prey sprinting through the forest with a bloodthirsty wolf hot on its heels. And the worst part was, he wanted to be caught. 

“I need to know your boundaries,” you murmured. “What I can do… and what I can’t.” 

“Touch me,” Choso gasped, voice wrecked. “You can do anything—anything—as long as it feels nice.” 

You wasted no time in getting your hands on him. A knee slid between his thighs, pinning him to the wall as your hands claimed his waist. “I can do that,” you promised, grinning when he choked back a whine, struggling not to rut down against your leg. “Fuck, Little Red. You have no idea what you’ve been doing to me.” 

He looped his arms around your neck, pulling you closer with hazy eyes. “Tell me, please? I want to know.” 

Your grip tightened, thumbs digging into the softness of his hips, the swell of his thighs. “The second I saw you skipping through the woods in that little red dress of yours, I wanted to devour you. Chase you until you lost your breath, a pliant mess under me. Wanted to see what you were hiding under that skirt. 

Choso’s breath hitched—almost a whimper. “I wouldn’t let you catch me so easily, Mr Wolf.” 

“And yet here you are, in my arms,” you taunted, adjusting your leg so that it was pressed up against the hard heat of his cock. “Doesn’t look like you’re running away from me, does it?” 

A gasp of pleasure tore from him as his forehead tipped forward to rest on your shoulder. The weight of gravity was a cruel thing—every squirm for relief only resulted in him rutting harder against you instead of relieving the pressure on his crotch. 

“You tricked me,” he accused, voice trembling. “Told me you knew the way to Granny’s. Liar.” 

“Why would a wolf do favours,” you chuckled, squeezing his hips, “when he could have a feast instead, silly?” 

Choso whined, lips curving into an unhappy pout at being called silly. He wasn’t silly. You just had that effect on him, Big Bad Wolf or not. “I could bring you food,” he offered weakly, despite the hungry gaze telling him it was futile. “I could share with you some of my lunch.” He gestured to the abandoned candy basket. 

“I don’t want your lunch, Little Red.” Your teeth scraped his earlobe. “I want you. Don’t you get it?” 

Tears welled in his eyes as he shook his head, and you wanted to coo at the sight, nearly breaking character. You watched as he writhed against you, biting his lip to stifle the noises bubbling up. He was so close, and you knew it. 

“I’ll let you eat me,” Choso panted, “on one condition, Mr Wolf.” 

That intrigued you. “Name it.” 

Trembling fingers dragged you down, his lips brushing against your ear. “Make me come.” 

Your breath stuttered—but there was no time to think, only to obey. 

You took a firm grip on his hair, wrenching his head to the side to expose his neck—as though you were going to sink your teeth there, claim him as yours. Choso whimpered in surprise but bared his neck further, a silent plea of want. 

“Needy little slut,” you snarled, teeth grazing his pulse. “Rutting against me like this. Bet you’d love it if I bent you over right here—fucked you open in the dirt.” 

His climax crashed into him like a storm. He collapsed forward into your arms, a choked cry muffled into your shoulder as you held him throughout the aftershocks. You didn’t even bother to retract your knee, letting it stay pressed against his twitching, oversensitive cock, right where it belonged. 

“Choso?” you whispered. 

A whimper. 

“I can’t hear you, baby.” 

He burrowed into your chest, petulant. “‘M not repeating it.” 

“Say something else?” 

A beat. Then, muffled but unmistakable: “You’re mean.” 

Your eyes widened in panic. Was that too much? “I’m sorry, I know we didn’t—” 

“No.” He placed a gentle palm on your chest, halting your words. Right over where your beating heart was. “I meant, you’re mean, and I loved it.” 

When he looked up, his eyes were glassy, wrecked—hungry with lust. 

You hadn’t expected the intensity of it. 

“Take me upstairs,” he almost begged. “Please, please…”  

Fuck. “Alright.” 

You hauled him through the crowd, ignoring the wolf-whistles in your wake as you made your way up the stairs, barging into the first empty room with only one thing on your mind. You were going to fuck him so good he would be trembling with pleasure by the time you were done with him. 

Choso was sprawled on the bed, a panting, pliant mess as he patiently waited for you to return to him after locking the door. 

“Kiss me,” he whined once you got close enough, and he had every right to—because how dare you not kiss him? He wrapped his arms around your neck and pulled you on top of him, whining as you mouthed messily at his neck before finally crashing your lips against his—all teeth and tongue, the filthy kiss he’d been aching for all night. 

You kissed him like you were sin, and he was absolution. Like the last mercy before the devouring. 

When you pulled back, a string of saliva connecting your lips, he chased it blindly, pouting when you held him back with a gentle hand to his chest. “Turn around,” you ordered, voice rough. “Gonna eat you out.” 

There was no hesitation. Choso nodded, scrambling onto all fours with his chest pressed to the pattress, ass raised just for you. He should feel filthy, exposed, vulnerable. But strangely, he felt nothing of the sort. Only want, as you pressed even closer, your hot breath ghosting over the sensitive back of his thighs as you flipped up his skirt. 

A shiver wracked him you slowly pried his cum-stained panties to the side, baring him to the cold air. “Pretty,” you murmured, pressing a soft kiss to his twitching hole. 

Choso whined. 

You licked a broad stripe all the way perineum to his needy hole, before lightly dipping your tongue inside, just to watch him squirm. “Stay still,” you muttered. “Are you going to be a good boy and let me play with you?” 

“Yes,” he gasped. “Please, pup. I’ll be so good for you.” 

Pup. 

He knew exactly how to drive you crazy. And he was going to use that to his every advantage, wasn’t he? 

You growled, nuzzling into his cheeks before finally burrowing your way inside, eating him out with vigour. Beneath you, he was a writhing mess, panting and whining as you devoured him from behind like a wolf digging into the tender belly of its prey. 

“Please, please, please,” he sobbed, “W-want your fingers in me, pup.” 

“Thought you were gonna be good for me, baby.” 

He nodded tearfully. “I’ve been good. Just… want you.” 

You sighed in feigned exasperation, your fingers digging into his hips as you pulled away. “Little Red wants to play?” 

“Yes,” Choso whined. “Want you to play with me so bad, Mr Wolf.” 

“You sure you can take me?” You opened up the bedside drawer, taking out a bottle of lube, before pouring a generous amount on your fingers. “Aren’t you too arrogant?” 

“I can!” he protested, pushing his ass towards you in desperation. “You can p… punish me if I can’t. I won’t mind.” 

“No,” you agreed with a chuckle. “Of course you won’t mind. A slut like you would probably enjoy it.” 

Choso’s eyes widened, but before he could say anything, deny it—you pushed a finger inside his hole, admiring the way it clenched around you needily. 

“I’m not a slut,” he whispered. 

“No?” you goaded him on, pushing another finger inside. “You think I didn’t notice, Little Red? You strutting around in the woods in this little dress of yours. You were trying to seduce me into fucking you, weren’t you?” 

He whined, shaking his head. “No,” he gasped as you curled them—barely grazing the spot that would make him see stars. “I’m n-not, would never!” 

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” you continued, adding a third one to the stretch once you deemed him loose enough. “You know the way to your Granny’s place perfectly. You weren’t lost. You didn’t need directions. You were just hungry for cock.” 

“Please,” Choso cried, as you pressed the pads of your fingers against his prostate, making him shudder with pleasure. “Fuck me a-already…” 

“Admit that you’re a slut,” you sneered, mean. “Admit that you walk around the woods pretending to be lost in this slutty little dress of yours, looking for wolves to fuck.” 

“Not just any wolf,” he gasped. “Only you. ‘M a slut for you.” 

You pulled out your fingers, barely giving him a second of reprieve before you unzipped your pants, lined yourself up and pushed your cock into his spasming hole—all in one smooth thrust. 

Choso sobbed with pleasure as you bottomed out, rough hands massaging the fat of his hips. You pulled out until only the tip was inside before brutally thrusting into him again, the slap of your hips against his loud, filthy and wet. 

He should’ve known that he was no match for you from the moment he caught your eye. 

How would prey like him ever escape a virile predator like you? 

“S-so good,” he choked out, whimpering as you leaned back to spit at his hole, the sticky glob intermixing with the lube, creating a messy slop inside his tummy. “‘S wet and m-messy.”

“Yeah?” you panted. Your hips felt like they were moving of their own accord—blindly thrusting into the wet, warm heat of his cavern, carving out a place for your cock, pound by pound. “That good, baby?” 

“Yeah,” he huffed out. “Wanna s-see your face, please…” 

You paused, pulling out before you flipped him over, settling between his eagerly splayed-out thighs. His dress was crumpled and racked up to his waist, his eyes glazed over with tears of pleasure. You wasted no time in pushing in again, this time paying extra attention to every detail in his expression—the scrunching up of his eyebrows as he struggled to take the stretch, the way his lips fell open in a lewd moan as you thrusted forward. 

Choso was beautiful. 

“Pretty,” he whimpered, tears spilling down his cheeks. “You’re so p-pretty.” 

You leaned down to smother his lips with yours, drinking in his noises. You couldn’t get enough of him. He was too good for you, in a way that was bad for your heart. 

“Gonna fuck you full,” you muttered breathlessly into his ear. “Fuck a knot into you, if I could.” 

“Please,” he sobbed. “Wanna feel you here, pup.” He grasped your wrist with a trembling hand before pressing your warm palm against his naked stomach. You could feel yourself moving inside him—every push and pull of heat and slop, burrowing your way into his insides. 

He shuddered and cried out as you wrapped a hand around his cock, thumbing messily at the slit. “No,” he protested, “‘m too close, no, no—” 

“Come for me,” you whispered, more of a plea than anything. “Want you to let go of yourself and come, pretty thing.” 

Choso shook his head, gasping for air. “I can’t, pup, feels w-weird—” 

“Want you to be dirty,” you growled, every pound and thrust aimed at his sweet spot as he cried and writhed in your arms. You squeezed his cock. “Make as much of a mess as you want.” 

Choso nearly jackknifed off the bed as he came with a shout—ropes of cum squirting from his cock, painting your chest and his stomach with white. 

“Fuck, baby, you squirted—” you gasped out as his hole gripped you like a vice, your orgasm hitting you like a hurricane, black spots flooding your vision as you groaned in pleasure. “Choso!” 

He whimpered as you filled his hole with cum, the sticky slop combined with the girth of your soft cock making him dizzy with fullness. He whined as you collapsed on top of him, blanketing him with warmth. 

You nuzzled into the crook of his neck. 

“Pup?” he asked sleepily. 

You blinked an eye open. “Mm? Want me to pull out?” 

Choso shook his head. “No, I just…” he trailed off, before whispering, “I want you.” 

Your heart skipped a beat. 

“Don’t think I can get it up to another round right now, baby,” you joked weakly. 

“‘M not talking about that,” he mumbled. “Want you, want all of you.” He trailed his fingers up the skin of your back, before settling into your messy hair, gently sifting through the strands. 

“Want you too,” you whispered back. “I wasn’t lying when I said I’ve wanted you for a long time. Want to be The Wolf to your Little Red. Or just us. Anything is okay.” 

Choso smiled at that, warmth blossoming in his chest. He pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Happy Halloween, pup.” 

“And you, too,” you chuckled. “Oh, and before I forget. Trick? Or dick?” 

big men! with big chests that gets mistaken or joked of it being boobs by close friends and colleagues, who had gotten used to it. who at first used to get all blushy blushy but nowadays just shrugs it off with a disgruntled huff of “knock it off”

big men! who didn’t really see much problem when you started to favor their chest more, eventually opting to use them as a pillow rather than use your actual pillow since it gives them the advantage of falling asleep with you on top of them and they got to cuddle with you all night. a win-win situation in his book, as he could be quite clingy when behind closed doors. who laughs sometimes at the silliness of you smothering your face in between his chests, finding your obsession with his pecs to be endearing

big men! who didn’t realize how sensitive their chest could be until you decide to show it to them. squeezing, fondling the large muscles, tweaking his cute nipples occasionally and making him jolt in place with a cute blush covering his ears and cheeks. so adorable, like a meager bunny when he was nearly twice your size and could probably crush a grown man’s skull in with their hand

big men! who get so worked up over the dirty words you whisper when you pinch his hardened nipples, your words of “i could make your chest lactate”, “your boobs feel so heavy, darling”, “such a nice big tits you have” making him whine in the back of his throat, shaking his head as he shakily denies that “t-they’re not b-boobs… y-you nngh know that…”

big men! who gets manhandled by your smaller frame to lay on their backs, a cute surprised “eengk!” escaping his swollen lips as he looks up at you, pushing his tight shirt up until they’re resting over his chest, showing the big muscles you love so much. who cutely whine and wriggle in place under you as your fingers bully his hardened buds, pinching at the cute pinks, tugging on them before letting go, a noise of awe leaving your lips at the way his chest fucking jiggles while your bf could only jolt with words of “c-cruel… you’re so cruel to me. pu-unhh puppYAGH!”

big men! who get fucked stupid, brain churning into a mush by only having his nipples played with. pinched, tugged, even bitten till your fangs and teeth leaves a round mark closed around his areola that he slurs is too deep, acting like he is getting his tight hole spread open and fucked by your cock. whose face is so cutely flushed, eyes dazed over as he breathes heavily of “wan’ moowr.. ungh h-haah… annh♡︎ m-more please? touch me.. to-ouch me moore”

big men! who act like a sweet virgin who never got himself fucked by you when you kick off your pants, hardened cock already springing out and slapping against his cute boobs. who stare at your oozing tip with gaping mouth, letting out stuttered questions of “w-what… whaddaya doin’? h-hunny, noouw… no, don’t—♡︎!” before squealing when you squeeze his chest together, rutting your strap in between them

big men! who act like they have never seen your cock, never tasted it or even deep throated it before, acting like he never once took your dildo into his pretty hole until his legs shook as you fuck his boobs, moaning loudly like the cute bunny he is. who opens his mouth, jaw shaking as fat tears collect in his big doe eyes, messily sucking the tip, getting drunk on the taste of your pre already when you politely ask him to suck you off

big men! whose hands shakily grasp your ass, unintentionally helping you fuck their tits even more, pushing your strap even deeper inside his mouth as if he wanted you to just let go of their boobs and just fuck their throat instead. who lets out a cute confused noise, mouth full of your cock, batting his lashes up at you like the pretty little thing he is when you move his trembling hands to hold his boobs together instead of your ass. who tries to speak words of not knowing how to do it, still mouthful, as you give a tug to his cute bitten nipple, making him squeak

big men! who meagerly tries to fuck your cock in between his mounds, choking on your tip when you tilt his head down just enough so he could also suck you off, acting as if you just shoved your entire strap down his throat and was keeping it there, snuggly shutting him up. a whiny bf whose tears finally fall when you cum into his hot mouth, dropping of your cock when you came as if he was never drunk on the taste of your seeds before, letting some of it shoot over his face and hair instead. a hunky beast of a man, sniffling like a baby when he notices the mess you made of him, who dares to give you a half assed glare as if you forced him to make a mess

big men! who gets addicted to boob fucking after that one time thing, constantly thinking back on the feeling of squishing his own chest together to fuck your dick for you. whose hands finds themselves wandering to his pecs more often, pushing them together and moving them in soft round circles as if you would suddenly appear and fill the empty space between his boobs. who finds himself messing with his nipples over the tight fit of his shirt, finding himself to be perverted as he gets turned on by just fondling with his chest

big men! who, unable to keep teasing themselves anymore, start to touch themselves when you’re away on work or whatever. more specifically, their chests. rutting his clothed, hardened cock against a pillow that is squished between his thighs, tweaking at his nipples and tugging on them — just like how you do it — before letting go with a whimper. it hurt, but it also felt so good, he could feel his precum already wetting his boxers

big men! who finds out that his constant arousal by his nipples was a bad idea, as now every time he wears a tight shirt or compression vest, his nipples are rubbed and he finds himself getting horny. who, in desperation, decides to tenderly tape the cute pink nubs with a band aid, pouting to himself about how you were slowly but surely turning him into a perv

big men! who now finds it much easier to use his boobs to fuck you, quick to drop down to their knees in front of your clothed crotch, kissing the hidden thighs and inhaling at your natural scent with a love stricken look in their eyes. a cute, desperate bf who kisses your strap, rubbing you with his hands to try and get you hard as quick as possible. who hook their shirt over their chest, intentionally pushing his boobs together with his hands on his knees, creating the effect of round shaped breasts

big men! who impatiently watches until your cock is free, taking it into his mouth the moment you slide down your undergarments, suckling at the head just like how you enjoy it. who push you down to sit, so he could climb onto your lap, pushing his chest together so he could fuck your strap with his boobs, determined that now he had learned a good technique to make you feel good. who is quick to take the head of your dildo into his mouth, swiping the gathered pre with a pleased hum, looking up at your through his thick lashes with a drunken giggle before pulling away to spit on your hard on

big men! who drunkenly take the head of your strap into their hot mouth, suckling away at the delicious precum, unafraid to slobber all over your cock and his chest as he slowly moves the big muscles in a circular motion. who giggles in delight at your words of praise and groans, the tip of your cock that is still in his mouth vibrating with his drunk laughter. beefy bf who eagerly lap away at your cock head, slurping at the mess he made of his own drool and your precum before taking it back into his mouth, hollowing out his cheeks for you. only for you♡︎

big men! who pulls away again when you cum, watching with a cute mix of fascination and lewd anticipation as your hot cum shoots all over his jaws and chest, painting his skin in white. massaging your balls and stroking you through it all, opening his mouth slack as he stares up at you with hazed eyes, letting the last few drops shoot into his awaiting tongue, licking at his full lips with a pleasured hum. the salty, slightly sweet taste, a familiar one that he had gotten drunk on within the first round

big men! who straddle your lap, rubbing your wet strap on the round curve of his ass with a giddy giggle, feeling how the slippery wet tip doesn’t enter his tight hole without helping hands. finally, grasping at your dick with his hand, giving it a few strokes before pressing the tip against his entrance. your sweet bf who decide to be bold, sinking down onto your cock with one swift movement, a choked sob getting stuck in his throat at the sudden feeling of being “f-fughkk♥︎ a-aah haah mnngh♡︎ shooo fu-ull.. gut’s so ffuul of m-my [name]♥︎”

big men! who ride your dick all night, even as his muscles strain and his brain gets fucked into a stupid mush, slurring words of love and lust, saying all sorts of lewd things through his cum and drool covered pink lips as the kissable looking pair of muscles turn into a cute drunken smile. beefy big bf whose tits bounce all the while, their cute jiggles every time they sink down into your dick hypnotizing you to only focus on them. an adorable squeal escaping him as you tear away the band aids from his nipples, the stimulated nubs all hard and blush red as they greet you

big men! who squeeze their breast, forefinger and thumb squeezing around his nipple, as he grins at you with blown wide heart shaped eyes. “a-ain’t they cute…? dontcha wanna suck-unghk suck on them?” he asks, squishing his mound softly with a near delirious grin on his face. “come owwnn, don’t my [name] wanna taste my milk♡︎?”

big men! who lets out a pleased wet sob when you do give in, suckling, biting, squeezing at his jiggling boobs as he starts to bounce on your cock with a more fervent pace. who cries out at it being painful when you leave another teeth mark around his nub, one of his hands placed over his chest like one of the scared damsels in paintings. who slur out words of not being a damsel, of being a maiden, shaking his head as if he actually understood anything

big men! who gets their wombs filled with your cum for nth time that night, feeling his stomach start to bloat at the sheer amount he greedily took into his eager hole. fucked dumb bf who shakes his head at your words of getting off, refusing to lose the warmth in his stretched hole and filled stomach. who only notices when you pointed out, that his nipple was leaking, lactating a delicious white milk that dribbled down to his cum covered tummy. another drunk giggle follows, as he gets close to your ear to whisper a filthy slurred “now that i’m p-pregnant, my [name] better take responsibility♥︎”, having completely forgotten that he can’t get pregnant. but oh well, your beefy bf who is so adorable as he giddily speaks of carrying your young, rubbing at his belly with hearts swirling in his eyes, to the point you can’t bring yourself to correct him. only going slack on the couch with your sweet princess still on your lap

Fushiguro Toji was writing.

His hand gripped the pen, scribbling with perfect handwriting. There was a struggle in this perfection. But he pushed it in the back of his mind, focusing on the paper instead. He went back to writing, or at least that’s what he wanted to do but, unfortunately for him, couldn’t. Slowly, his writing became sluggish, mind scrambling to find the words to write until he finally dropped the pen, inhaling sharply.

“Fuck,” he cursed, squeezing his eyes shut.

He felt the pleasure between his thighs. Even though he wanted to focus on his task, he couldn’t because there you were, kneeling in front of him, sucking him off. Toji couldn’t stop the shivers that crawled his skin whenever you touch him. You were unrelenting, hands caressing his back, smooth as a lover’s kiss, and the next moment, your nails deepen down on his sides, creating beautiful small moon crests on his skin. And your mouth. Oh, god, your mouth. Toji didn’t know if he should jerk his hips towards you or let himself lose in the feeling of your tongue gliding his length.

You saw Toji with a new perspective. The usual stormy look on his face was replaced with pure pleasure, brows scrunched and lips stuck between his lips. And you hummed at that, satisfied knowing that you were the reason for that change. You released him, saliva stretching from your mouth to his cock. Toji immediately opened his eyes to see you grinning, causing him to go back to scowling, accentuating the scar on his mouth.

“I thought you said this is nothing to you. Why’d you stop writing then, daddy?”

You spat the endearment, knowing full well his irritation to the meaning it brought. Toji gritted his teeth, annoyance flaring in his eyes. To show defiance, he ignored you and went back to writing god-knows-what that was to be passed on god-knows-when. In short, you didn’t give a fuck about what he was doing because the only thing that mattered to you was seeing Toji cry in over-stimulation, and you’ll be damned if the night doesn’t end in that.

So just as he went back to his work, you also went back to get him off. You made sure to watch his reactions as you bobbed your head. When Toji released a shaky breath, you replaced your mouth with your hand, palming him. Toji suddenly jerked from the sensation of your palm on his leaking head, but you only smiled innocently at his face.

“Y-You—”

You cut him off when your other hand stroked him hard, and it was enough to make him cum, stifling the moan from his mouth. You cooed at the mess he made on himself, laying your head on his thigh while you rub the other one.

“Such a good boy, my little Toji.”

Toji exhaled shakily, thighs trembling. At your praise, he turned his head away from your eyes, attempting to hide the blush on his face but failing miserably.

“Y-You’re done now, right?” You gasped dramatically, placing a hand on your chest, pretending to be hurt.

“You make it sound like you didn’t ask me of this a few days before.”

He rolled his eyes, scoffing. “That was then. I’m busy now.”

You pouted, subtly stroking his firm thighs. “Too busy even for me?”

Toji merely grumbled but didn’t answer nor fixed himself back on his pants. He went back to writing while you lazily roamed your hands on his hips. With a hum of appreciation, you touched his stomach, hardened by all of his hard work and dedication. The only reaction you got from Toji was a tilt of his head as he wrote. Feeling a need to change that, your hands wandered up to his chest, under his shirt. The sudden change caused Toji’s soft breathing to hitch, but your hands continued the path to his nipples. A smile showed on your lips when you felt them harden under your touch.

“Y/n,” called Toji. A warning. An invitation. A plea.

When you straightened out and placed your hands back to your lap, his nipples perked through his shirt, causing you to chuckle under your breath.

“Y-y/n.” At the sound of your name, you looked up to see Toji staring at you. Slowly, he let go of his pen, leaned back on his chair, and to your utter surprise, lifted his shirt off his chest. He bit the hem of his shirt and shyly grabbed your hands to place them back on his chest.

Fuck. Fuck.

You felt yourself heating up from his actions, breathing in shakily, excitement coursing through your veins. You couldn’t help the moan that escaped from your mouth when you groped his chest, feeling them contradict your sense of hardness and softness. Seeing the silent need in his eyes, you clambered to his lap to sit. You felt his cock on your stomach, and as you leaned in to kiss his neck, Toji turned his head to give you more access, hips jerking unconsciously.

You kept kissing his neck, making sure to leave marks whenever you bit him while your hands tugged and tweaked his hard buds. Toji’s reaction was much more different than earlier. Now, he was panting; mewls and shameless moans escaped his lips. His hips kept thrusting against yours, seeking any kind of friction he could get, so you slid a hand down and stroked him softly.

Toji moaned when you finally touched him. Your hands worked on his cock, using his precum to coat the whole shaft while your mouth remained licking and biting his neck. Poor Toji, all he could do was moan your name while you worked on him.

“M-more,” he whispered.

“More what?”

“Touch me more, y/n, please.”

You grinned on his neck as you fasten your strokes, giving him the second release he wanted. When you felt him throb under your hands, you hastily bit his neck harder, eliciting a sharp cry from him. Just like that, he spilled all over your hands. He moaned through the process, hands clasping your waist while you whispered him praises of “Good boy” and “That’s it, baby.”

Not giving him time to rest, your fingers found their way again to his chest, causing Toji to shudder. “W-wait, wait.”

“Hmm?”

“I-I can’t.”

You pouted for the second time that night but removed your hands from his chest to stroke his cheeks instead, making him look straight into your adoring eyes. The trusting eyes that stared back made you kiss him hard, so hard that it almost felt bruising. You’re always so unsure with him. You didn’t know if you should be soft or firm, but you chose the latter with your kiss. Softness would come after hardness. When you leaned back, you asked, “But you can cum for me again, right? For mommy, you can, right, baby?”

It was unfair because though Fushiguro Toji was hurting, he always, always, aim to please you, to make himself solely yours, to succumb to your pleasure. And it was unfair because you solidified what you were to him—mommy. Toji already knew he couldn’t say no to those reasons, so he nodded, whining a little bit.

“Give me words, Toji.”

“Yes! Y-yes, please, mommy.”

So when you flicked, thumbed, bit, and licked his nipples, Toji was reduced to a moaning mess. Your hands paid attention to his weeping cock while your mouth on his chest, trailing hickeys wherever it lands. All Toji could do was buck under your hands, toss his head side to side, and sob a breaking cry because everything was too much. His poor brain wasn’t hardwired for pleasure after pleasure. So all that was left to him was his whimpers and moans. What’s worse is your unnecessary comments simply because they embarrass him. 

“Poor baby, can’t handle too much pleasure” or “Look at you, bucking your hips like a little slut.”

His stormy face became figuratively true when tears streamed down his cheeks while his mouth cried noises of pain and extreme pleasure. When he came, he did so beautifully to all your senses: his face was ruined by his tears, mouth overpowered with moans, and body trembling and squirming and just shaking.

Toji kept sobbing as you helped him through his third orgasm. You slowed your hand, feeling his cock throb pathetically. Toji felt his own tears heating up his cheeks, but they cooled down when you kissed his eyes tenderly. Hands caressing the back of his neck as you landed kisses on his face.

“So good for me, Toji.”

Toji wrapped his arms around your waist as he hid on the crook of your neck, wetting them with his tears. You cooed, stroking his hair and back like a baby. The space between your bodies was dirty, filled with sweat and cum, but all Toji could think of was the undying love on your every touch. So he willed himself to the peace you brought after the storm, inhaling your scent, memorizing the softness of your body, reminding himself of your marks on his neck and chest. Just like that, Fushiguro Toji slept like a baby; whatever he was writing was already forgotten, replaced by dreams only of you.

෴♡෴ ෴♡෴