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.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Synopsis. Venom’s had enough of his host’s racing heartbeat and tíghtening pants around you. So he does what any good symbiote would do - help Choso lose his vírginíty, of course!
Pairing. Choso Kamo x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem!reader, Venom!Choso, best-friends-to-Iovers, PlNING, héats, he has tattoos and piercings, Venom in bold, first times (for Choso), PÚSSYDRÚNK CHOSO, oraI (fem. rec), spítting, ínappropríate use of the symbiote, LONG tongues, ríding, dúmbifícation, making it fit, size kínk, tummy buIges, creampíes, cúmplay, MARATHONS, matíng presses, overstím, squírting, cúmming dry, proposals, biting marks, pet names, swéaring.
Word count. 8.5k
A/N. Inspired by this ask and this post by the lovely @/screampied.
“You like her.”
“Shut up.”
“You want to fu-”
“Shut up.”
“Heh- loser.”
And Choso was genuinely contemplating smashing his head against the nearest wall, if only it would yank out that damn parasite- “Oi, I can hear you.” -he had the misfortune of picking up.
Weeks - though, it felt like years - weeks since he’d wandered into his usual hiding spot at the abandoned Lady of Saint’s Church for a moment of peace and quiet; except, he wasn’t alone that day. Too busy poring over yet another sketch of your dazzling smile to notice-
“Your pulse rate spiked- you’re thinking of her, boy. You want her.”
But it’d been weeks since he’d had peace and quiet after this…alien symbiote had forcibly attached itself to his body that day.
And the worst part was that he wasn’t even wrong.
“S-so what?” Choso hisses out. “She deserves better than me anyway.” Wincing at the sheer predatory amusement in Venom’s voice as he purrs—
“I have a plan…”
.
.
.
Your best friend was acting strange.
Given, it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for his fawn eyes to linger on you just a little more than what’s considered appropriate for a “friend”, or for him to burn with the prettiest blush whenever you caught him.
But these days it was almost like he was avoiding you on purpose.
Taking the longer routes after lectures, being struck pale as a ghost mid-conversation, always muttering away underneath his breath.
Hell, one day you even had half the mind to jokingly ask him whether he was talking to someone you couldn’t see - to which Choso had sputtered and all but sprinted away from you.
And here he was right now - towering right at your apartment doorway in just a snug undershirt and the sexiest grey sweatpants.
“Ch-Choso?” Your jaw drops slightly at his disheveled, heaving state.
Milky skin simmered with a sheen of sweat that made his dark tank top glue to his broad chest, chestnut strands of his bangs falling out of his bun to hide his eyes from you, almost…feverish.
Frantic gaze bouncing off the beefy arm he’d kept leaned over your doorframe for support, “What happened- are you sick? Are you drunk?” A quick glance at the clock showed that it was well past 12AM, “Are you okay, Cho-”
And then he flinches.
Fuck- he flinches as if the sound of that very nickname falling from your cute lips made his entire body shudder with a thousand bolts of lightning.
Baritone voice hot and murky once he utters, “Baby…”
Oh.
You could feel the goosebumps starting to slither down your spine already, and you tug nervously at the paper-thin pyjama shirt you had on. Too-aware of the fact that it was the only thing you were wearing other than your thin panties- damn.
Noticing the way that every minute movement of yours seemed to make Choso’s pants grow heavier; you dare to take a step closer, and it only makes him grip onto the mahogany doorway until it splinters.
Teeth grit. Nostrils flaring. Barely holding himself together.
Gasping, “Cho?”
“I need you.”
“Wha-” And it’s the last thing escaping your mouth before Choso surges forward like he’s being jerked, movements twitchy - desperate - he falls a few steps forward until he’s in your heated proximity.
Your saccharine scent so sweet that he’d be on his damn knees if you hadn’t clawed a hand on one of his flexing biceps- a gruff whimper departing from Choso’s plush, pink lips. “K-kiss me.”
Oh, fuck.
You watch with a carnal sort of desire at the way that he scorches with a breezing blush all the way from the tips of his ears, down to his collarbones. Fisting your dominant hand in the flimsy cotton of your best friend’s undershirt, just the tiniest, weakest tug makes him gulp.
Now that he started, he couldn’t stop.
“Kiss me- kiss me, p-please.” He’s finally darting his hazy peripheries up from the floor to look at you, you, and only you. Dragging in a deeeep breath of your air, his half-lidded pupils were begging- “Kiss me, baby.”
You’re humming, the curved edges of your fingertips curling ‘round Choso’s nape and pulling him in.
He’s melting.
He’s melting and melting into the kiss - as if he’d been dreaming of this for just as long as you have. Even longer.
Strong, sturdy hands wrapping around your waist to tug you against his hardened front, you gasp at the sweltering hot temperature he was radiating. Already feeling beads of perspiration starting to form across your forehead-
He’s sucking in a sharp breath, “Need to- need to tell you something.”
Words huffin’ out through glides of his berry-pink lips across yours, each one wrenching out like it pained him to part from your candied mouth with each sloppy mwah! Blindly, he slams the door shut with the heeled back of his foot. “There’s- a- a thing-”
You’re grinning once his voice breaks - breaks, as soon as you’re sipping on the cold spherical piercing homed at the edge of his tongue like your favorite gummy candy. “A…thing?”
Through a slightly-cracked eyelid, your gaze sinks down between Choso’s thick, meaty thighs. Instantly feeling a wave of sap flood your mouth at the massive cylindrical bulge that tightened his sweatpants uncomfortably.
He was just too cute.
“A ‘thing’, hm?” You’re breaking off to smirk, twisting a silky lock of his hair around your index in a way that makes the looming man in front of you shiver. Chasing and chasing your lips- he was so weak for you.
Giving in, you’re just about getting ready to kiss your best friend silly once more - but what meets your ravenous mouth isn’t his soft, plump lips anymore.
No, it doesn’t even feel human.
What instead greets you is something frigid and slimy. Something that crushes you to him with a strength tenfold of what Choso had been using - almost animalistic - until you’re lurching back and gaping at the fact that your feet were now dangling almost two whole feet off of the ground.
Snapping your head to his face and-
What…the…f-
“Don’t scream!” In a startling split-second, that black mass of goop masking Choso’s face slithers away in tiny tendrils to reveal, well, Choso.
And honestly, you’re not sure if that wants to make you scream even more or just shuts you up completely. But whilst you ogle whatever it is in front of you, Choso keeps plowing on.
“This- ah, this is what I meant by a…thing.” He’s stammering out nervously, dark brows crinkling with nervousness as he watches on for your reaction. “Basically- a few weeks ago- my body got infected by this alien thing- a ‘symbiote’, it said, and I-”
“Improved.”
You’re feeling that temptation to exhaust your lungs with yells once more as Choso’s swallowed up within that dark matter.
Muscular and big.
Except this time it was formulating a mouth - all wide and decorated in tiny, jagged canines - and slanted white eyes with not a pupil in sight. A dexterous tongue gliiiides down the crevice of its sharp mouth, glittered with strands of slobber. “We are Venom, pretty girl. And you smell…”
Venom’s voice was deep. Coarse. A rumbling bass that made the very bottom of your stomach quiver- you’re distracted only by the growling sniff he lets out. Monstrous ivory eyes locked right between your heated core-
“-delicious.”
Oh…he was reaching well near eight feet and twitching from the inside out once Choso fights to regain control.
“A-as you can see-” Smiling sheepishly down at you - you blink, and your best friend was suddenly back. Eyes hooded, mouth snarling, looking ruined. What the fuck. “-he really seems to like your scent and it’s driving me-”
“Stop talking, boy, and mate the girl.”
“Shut up.”
You blink almost owlishly in disbelief, and in something…else, as you feel your thighs clench together. A slight motion that Venom surely doesn’t miss, if the way that Choso’s lungs heave with more gulps of your sweet, sweet leaking pheromones was anything to go by.
And then, you’re finally piping up– “Let…let me see that tongue of Venom’s again?”
.
.
.
“A-are you sure? W-we’re best friends, and I’ve never…”
You’d be rolling your eyes at the repeated question if it wasn’t for the fact that Choso Kamo just looked so pretty when he was knelt obediently at the very foot of your bed.
A thin sliver of sweat sliding down his temple, breaths coming out in heated gusts, slender hands balling into a fist and shivering once you smear your legs open just a fraction more. Twitching, white-knuckled like he was forcing himself to not just ruin you right then and there.
“Mhm.” You’re nodding, and the very action is enough for him to snap his eyes down where your cotton panties were starting to dampen and swallow. “Please, handsome- don’t be coy.”
It was almost too good to be true.
But, fuck, Choso wasn’t waiting around ‘till he wakes up from this dream.
With so much pent-up eagerness that he felt his lips twist into a sleazy grin- Choso’s crawling himself the few inches it was to stuff himself nose-deep between your pretty legs.
“O-oh.”
First it was the tiniest tug on your restless hips, then it was a sniff- and then it was a bite of his honed, glossy pearly whites over the lacy lil’ bow homed on the hem of your underwear. A throaty groan snarling through his teeth– “Oh, baby…”
That did it-
Quick as a flash, he’s snagging his teeth on the flimsy fabric of your panties and all but tearing it off of you. Rip-rip-ripping to simply push its tatters to the side, Choso doesn’t even fully take it off before he was simply drooooling.
Gulping and gulping the scent of your leaking hole.
“Sweet.” He gasps out, words taking on a dark edge. And you swear the chocolate color of his irises looked as if they were almost glowing, “So sweet.”
“Hurry, the symbiote hungers.”
Sharp jaw ticking as he ignores Venom’s request, the fattened pad of his thumb spanks down on your swollen pussylips and spreads you all wide open. Cock twitching at the deafening wet squelch! that chimes once he gathers copious wads of saliva and spits.
All over your lustrous cunt, slicking out a mess so great that it was already starting to form a puddle underneath your silken sheets.
“And mine.”
“Tch.”
And Choso wasn’t just greedy - he was outright gluttonous.
“You…you taste this sweet, baby?”
“Oh- ohhhh fuck–!” You’re shrilling out a syrupy moan once his chilly tongue piercing flicks at the tippy-top hood of your clit like a lollipop. Taking extra care to press down hard so that it has you thrashing-
“There? S’that good?” He’s roaming his mouth over your puffed-up lips eagerly, yearning. Not knowing what he was doing, just addicted. “You’re so wet, baby- s’this for me- r-really, really f’me?”
He just couldn’t believe it- and the only answer he’s getting is a few soft gasps of oh! and yes! Spit n’ whines overflowing your tongue with every slap of his textured tastebuds. You couldn’t help but nod your head down and admire just how drunken Choso was as he’s suckin’ away on your perky clit.
The hollows of his cheeks sucked-in and flushed red, spit-glossed mouth wrapped snugly ‘round your sensitive nub.
You’re whimpering, head thrown back at the grunts he muffles out between your legs.
“M-more, Cho–” You mewl out in a tone that makes his tensed hips rut forward like an animal, immediately grinding against the firm base of your bedframe. Fuck. Snaking a hand down to intertwine with his mussed-up bangs, and tugging them free of his bun- “Wan’ more.”
“More.”
“Hear that? I wanna taste.”
His tongue’s so thirsty - throat so parched - that it lets out the most sinful sluuuuurp at the very first slobbery drag from the dewy base of your quivering pussy, openin’ up your plump folds so widely agape to lather down on the very top of your clit.
Nodding and nodding and nodding- grinding up to tease the mushy tip of his tongue past your slippery folds just the tiniest bit. “More- please.”
And it’s not like Choso didn’t hear you - fuck, it’s that you’d broken him.
Because it happens in a singular nanosecond, it happens so fast you’re seeing cartoonish stars in your vision when he’s hauling you halfway across the bed like some glorified ragdoll.
Thighs thrown over his shoulder, trembly hands guided through his sweaty scalp, mouth wolfish-
“Keh. No wonder you’re a virgin, boy.”
“Sh-shut up.” He’s answering out loud, sending the most electric buzzes down your spine as he nips on the fleshy slope of your pussylips. His own ears pop! as the pointed curve of his chin hits your treacly cunt with a smack of skin-on-skin, so deep. Nose-deep till those lined tattoos on his face.
Ready to suffocate if he has to.
“Oi- give me a taste, and I’ll give her…more.”
Upper lip glueing to your pussy, Choso’s making you scream every time the sharp ends of his fangs snag on your clit. “Shut up shut up shut up-‘
“Ch-Cho?” Fuck, it takes you every ounce of strength in your body to lift your head up from your creaky bedsprings. Glassily eyeing the way that his grip on your hips turns bruising with semi-circular claw-marks of his, “Everything hah! alright?”
And shit- he breaks off slightly from your dripping wet pussy once- twice. Thrice, each n’ every time letting off a pained grunt that forces him back to stuff himself at his favorite spot between your legs.
He couldn’t even break off to speak. To breathe.
Still murmuring his response at the outer edges of your saturated core, with so many numerous strings of slick dangling from his rovering, swollen lips. Gingerly, “It’s V-Venom, he…wants a taste too.”
“Oh.”
And shit- Choso didn’t need Venom’s superhuman abilities to notice the instant that you’re growing so much wetter. A silky torrent of sap gushing out of you to lacquer your inner thighs like a fountain, already making him lurch- and suck and suck up every pearly droplet.
“I…” You’re starting off, lip chewed underneath your teeth in a way that almost makes him jealous. The memory of his extravagant tongue still fresh in your mind, “-wouldn’t mind.”
“Oh? Well…”
“-about time.”
As Choso lets Venom take over, you can’t help but gasp.
Oh, you were never getting used to this.
He was about two feet taller, hulking, monstrous. And the only thing more lecherous than that toothy grin he wore was his tongue - sliiiiding out all its endless inches and swaying teasingly to n’ fro in midair. Big.
So, so big.
“Eyes…” He’s looming over until scalding hot breath humidifies your features, tonality so gruff that it rumbles your very bones. Oh, he already knows of his effect on you - can flick his tastebuds out and taste it in the saccharine air. “Lungs…pancreas…”
The curly, reddened end of it stingingly slapping down on your thigh, Venom’s tongue is oh-so-long enough that he can lace it all over your shivering leg and wrench them further and further open–
“Pussy.”
And then it feels like you’re being split apart- just a few solid, thorough inches of Venom’s slimy tongue burrowing past your puffy folds, keeping your jolting legs pinned firmly by a few of his Stygian spirals.
One taste. One taste is all it takes.
You’re being rendered utterly stupid by the swashing flicks of his pointed muscle stirrin’ up your insides, wriggling in circular slurps around and around and around your gummy walls. Scarfing you down until his tongue reaches the very gooey bottom of your cunt and kisses your cervix.
So hard that you’re pushed up the mattress and he’s forced to wrap a few tendrils that reel you back down again.
“Heh, finish line.”
“What- oh…oh my god-” Tears drip down in constant rivers from your heavy lids, wailing whimpers breaking off from your larynx at every smack-smack-smack he left on that spongy end. Further pushing aside your panties, retracting aaaaaalll the way back to thruuuust- “Y-your tongue is sooo big.”
“So many snacks. How good.” He’s tittering out with a thundering pant, spiked ends of his canines littering your skin with gnawing bites. “How delicious. How…”
He’s sloshing his tongue almost aggressively inside, whacking your g-spot in-between his barreling journey to fuck you with his tongue just as much as he wanted to with his cock.
Lolling sloppily, thrusting, dragging the ridges of his tastebuds across your g-spot.
And it takes you a few more vulgar strokes, it takes you the sound of that familiarly melodic voice for you to flap your tear-heavy lashes open and finally look once more between your legs. “-mine.”
It’s almost as if both Choso and Venom couldn’t decide on who wanted to make out with your soft, candied pussy more.
Because it was your best friend’s pretty upper half of his face peeking out from between your splattered legs, but Venom’s mouth that was pumpin’ addictively past your rubbery entrance. Over and over.
“N-ngh pleeease!” Comes out your repeated record of whines, every mushy gyration so good that you can’t help but rock into every second of his frenzied cadence. Creeping down one of your hands to smear your pussylips wider with a soppy slurp so that he could go even deeper, “I-it’s so good- don’t stop don’t stop.”
And the look in Choso’s dark eyes is the most raw glint of disbelief that you’ve ever seen.
Unsteady thighs clenching as he hits his v-line against the wooden board of your bed and grinds, unwilling to angrily fist his raging cock the way he ached n’ leaked to, unwilling to take his hands off of you for a mere second.
“N-no no, move that hand, baby. Lemme see her- Please.” You’ve never seen your cute best friend dare to be so rude- urgently swatting away those few fingers of yours to replace with his own knobbly, greedy ones.
Pressin’ on your weeping, swollen clit with the flat end of his digit - you’re coating his chipped black nail polish with so many layers of goopy slick that it trickles down to his wrist.
And oh, you’d almost forgotten just got many frigid metal rings that Choso wore on his hot fingers. Sappily nuzzling the inside of your left thigh the very moment he’s slipping his middle past your widely messy hole and curling–
“How could I? How c-could I stop?” He’s muttering away - octaves higher than you’re used to, hitting and hitting your bruised and battered g-spot at the very same tempo that Venom was, too.
Double whack after whack that made your spine arch curvaceously off of the dampened mattress, icy edges of his rings scraping your walls. Choso just salivates at the heavenly sight of you below him, “How could you even- think- I’m-”
“-addicted.”
And Venom chooses just this precise moment to make your stupidly muddled mind remember his presence until you can’t think at all.
Prolonging his plumply constricted tongue - using his symbiotic powers and extending it even more feet stuffed inside your tightly cozy walls, slashing the very tip to become split-ended.
“Pretty. Pretty pussy.” He’s groaning out carnally, and your throat rips with a scream once he’s starting up a thrusting pace that flicks at your weeping cunt with those two slithering ends of his monstrous tongue. “Don’t know who’s prettier- you or…”
You’re shivering then - shivering at the windy gust of air inhaled once Venom tugs you even closer by his black coils and sniffs. Breath hot, his French kiss on your pussy hotter. “-her.”
“Fuck- fuck, you’re making such a mess, Choso.”
“Mhmmmm—”
Shifting between both his tongue and Venom’s - every transformation had you dizzy. Alternating between Venom’s hard, almost violent thrusts with his split-end tongue to Choso’s sensual tickling of his piercing into your most favorite spots.
Glittery slick and spittle dripping down like a glazing polish, Choso’s swallowing down every sweet gumdrop like he’s a man starved.
Like a damn dog in heat, every pant of the honeyed pheromones between your legs was driving him fucking mad. Making his hips thrust-
“Sh-she’s drooling almost as much as ngh- me, baby.” He’s fighting back that damn parasite for more more more of you- for every squelch! once he’s mazing his second, third lengthy finger inside.
Searching for your g-spot like treasure trove - hitting and hitting, you’re so pretty and gone that Choso’s chuckling. “Ride it.” Pap-pap-pap goes his hits to your delicate, most tender spots, faster. “Ride it- yeah, ride m’f-face like it’s yours, baby- ride it.”
“S-shoooo much–” And you don’t know whether it’s the torrents of slicked saliva falling from your mouth or the sheer overstimulation that has you jumbling up your syllables - but it’s enough to make both Choso and Venom grin. “It’s so ngh- haaaa–”
“She’s close.”
“Fuh-fuck.” He’s spitting into your drooling lips, right above your pulsating nub. Ringed digits so thick that it makes your knees shake and weaken. Sloppy. “Faster. Harder. Use me, baby-”
Again and again and again.
Your brain’s fuzzily stupid by the time you finally recognize that familiar twist at the bottom of your tummy, too. Blubbering out an unsteady, “P-please! M’not gonna- ngh! last, Cho.”
“I know- I know I know I know– make a mess.” He’s spitting out once more, letting a wad of saliva stream straightly down your slit and liiicking it all up before Venom overtakes him to keep on probin’ your entrance fully. Swirling every speckled tastebud until it was like the symbiote was trying to brand you–
And with a gluttonous swipe at the fresh beads of slick homed on top of your nub, Choso wastes no time before pinching your clit-
“Cum. Cum on my tongue, baby. Mine.”
-and making your field of vision simply shatter with tears once you’re crashing into that built-up high.
“Shit- shiiiiit. I-it feels so good, Cho- I’m- nghhh I’m…” It was an orgasm like no other- fuck, any of your toys were paling in comparison to Choso and his…parasite.
Fully himself now, you gawk with your mouth unlatched into a sagging oh! at the primal way that Choso’s prominent Adam’s apple bobs with each eager swallow. Thin lines of sappy slick falling from the pink, puckered corners of his lips and waterfalling all down the side of his damn throat.
“Th-tha’s it-” His sopping wet tongue drags uuuup n’ down your open folds to trawl you through your euphoria, every lolling flick of the curled end jostling against your thoroughly-stuffed folds.
Pumping, pounding your glutinous walls until they’re sticking to his barreling digits like adhesive, the metallic band curving his fingers smooches your g-spot softly. Dimly-lit molten eyes widening at the sheer ribbons of sap you’re letting off with every white-hot bolt of pleasure.
“This- this is all f’me–?” He’s crooning out, dazed. Letting his jaw fall open with every quiver you’re instinctively clenching with your cunt, “All for me- me. More- more, baby.”
“For me, you mean.”
Choso- Venom- Choso just keeps on alternating their slobbering drags of your hips until you’re completely wrung dry. Even the tiniest spank of their rugged tastebuds making you squeal with overstimulation, tears pinpricking behind your eyes.
“Aw, c-c’mon–” Your best friend slurs out in a tingling, pussydrunken tone - so gone that his perspired head falls n’ cuddles your thigh. Begging, “M-more…?”
“But Cho…m’sensitive.”
And he’s perking his head up like the thought didn’t even occur to him - only then do you get a final, filthy look at your best friend after so long.
Grinning, he sucks on each of his polished, soppy fingers. Each and every one - looking right into your dilated pupils, “That was my first time.”
Fuck.
He was pretty.
Granted, you always did know that, but right now - with Choso’s dark strands of hair hooding his half-opened gaze, what little you could see of his eyes gleaming, cheekbones burning scorched red - he was dreamy.
He’s wearing your saccharine wads of slick like a medal of honor.
Thickly coating everywhere from the tattoo on his nose, to the lower half of his face, to bubble all down his jaw. A slippery wire of it spills from the corner of his mouth as it starts moving, an almost airy tone seeping into his voice. “I-I’m never wiping this off- hey!”
Before he knows it, Venom’s tendrils dart out to filthily lick off the remnant excess his host cherished so much.
Grinning, “Delicious.”
Fighting back his damn alien acquaintance, you stifle a giggle as Choso’s rosy lips jut out into a pout. Lifting his knee onto the bed- well, grindin’ it right between your legs so that he’s putting pressure on your throbbing slope.
Fleshy thumb and index squeezing your cheeks together, “Spit in my mouth.”
“Wh-what?”
“Spit-” His sweaty forehead sticks against yours, humid breath clouding up your senses. And you could count every long lash, every smudge of his dark eyeliner. Hiccuping, “-in my mouth.”
And the moment you do- fuck, the moment you’re pursing your spit-glued lips to let out a saccharine web of saliva that slops right down his pinkish tongue with a splat! So loud and filthy and sinful that Choso only as the time to breath out a shallow ‘fuck!’ before he’s cumming.
Burning hot and feverish. Right then and there to create a dripping damp spot in his trousers- “Oh shit. Oh shit oh shit oh shit- you’re t-too-”
“Great going, virgin.”
“Shut up-” Choso grits through clenched teeth, desperately trying to heave his breaths back into some semblance of normalcy. Failing, once you immediately reach over and tug his sweatpants down-
He was cumming and cumming so much that you’re met with a white, streaming wet mess that gleams down both of Choso’s meaty thighs. They’re shivering with each ribbony string of seed that oozes down his long limbs, “O-oh, so pretty, Cho.”
“Oho? She’s an interesting one.”
“I-I know…”
And you’re not just talking about his orgasm.
Because when you’d imagined - on those long, lonely nights - that your best friend would be big…you didn’t expect that he’d be big.
Damn near ten- no, maybe even eleven inches of fat, hot girth that swelled his mushroomy tip to be as cutely pink as a strawberry and just as thick.
Your mouth waters as you follow the winding lightning patterns of his puffy veins, oh-so-prominently bloated that you swear you could count every throb-throb-throb.
And what- what was that?
No, you weren’t imagining it. Choso Kamo had a tiny studded Prince Albert’s piercing right near the tip-top of his bulging cockhead. Cold and sparkling underneath the dim bedroom lighting.
Mindlessly, you’re darting over to swipe one of your thumbs across a creamy bead of cum that’d started drenching his dark happy trail.
“O-oh.” Choso grunts at the look on your gorgeous face once he’s letting his chubby balls twitch n’ soak your skin with yet another splurging streak of seed. Again. Just from you touching him. “No one’s ever touched me like this- fuck!”
And you just had to find out whether he tasted as sweet as he looked.
Planting your mouth over his juice-capped head with a wet plop! you hum with utter delight at the caramel salted taste of him. Aching and pulsing underneath his piercing with just the tiniest kitten lick to his leaking orifice.
“Do it, boy.”
“Wh-what?”
“Do it. I’m inside your mind, do it.”
And Choso really wouldn’t have considered being that rude - really.
He really, really wanted to take his time slow n’ sultry with the one person who’s been the girl of his dreams from the moment he met you.
But fuck- Venom was jerking his body so that with the slightest rock, he’s rutting like a fucking animal deep inside the hot cavern of your mouth. Staining a milky white lipgloss around your plumpened lips, pushing his seed inside—
Venom wanted to see you choke.
“M-mmpf—!” And you can’t lie about the way the sheer force and heady musk of Choso’s v-line made your thighs squeeze.
“That’s it- cry. Cry on my cock- atta girl.”
“Fuck! I’m sorry-” He’s panicking from above as your pretty nose detaches from the curly black tuft of hair at his toned pelvis. “I’m sorry I’m sorry, baby. Are you-”
Only…for all his concerned apologies to shrivel up on Choso’s tongue when he catches the way you’re smiling.
Cockdrunk and stinging at the back of your throat with the way that Venom had actually elongated Choso’s already-massive cock just a few more centimeters by accident. Oh, fuck…
The hazed look that’d crept into your eyes as you look up makes the towering man shiver. Striking him to his very cock, “C’mon- fuck me, Cho.”
“C’mon. Don’t wanna disappoint the pretty girl.”
Choso doesn’t even remember getting rid of his undershirt, his sweatpants, everything but his silver rings and necklace - but what he does remember is the way your eyes had widened just the slightest fraction as you took in all of him.
Shit, was he sculpted by the Greek gods or what?
You could count every one of his eight, toned washboard abs - making the broad width of his pecs look so thick. So engulfing as they tense n’ ripple once your best friend slouches sexily on top of you to pull off your cotton t-shirt.
“Oh.” He’s gasping- you’re not wearing a bra. Completely naked underneath him except for the lecherous remnants of your torn panties still hanging on.
Ones that he keeps on - even when you try to shuffle them down with a whine - once he’s flipping the two of you over to let you straddle his slenderly sculptured hips.
“Keh- this position.”
“Shut up and watch.”
Blushing and pretty.
Choso’s teary lashes knock against the apples of his cheeks as he blinks furiously up at you, throat scratchily raw. Gulping more of your scent, “R-ride me, baby.”
“Cho–” You’re sliding the mounds of your ass gingerly against his aching hot length, shudders skittering down your spine at the sheer size of him pressing up into you. “Y-you’re so big, though- don’t know if it’ll fit.”
“I’ll make it fit-”
“A-am I actually that big?” He’s whispering, in awe. Watching with damply bated breath as he’s spanking his cock against your right ass cheek with a wet smack! smack! smack!
Pointing that curved, bulbous tip right between your pussylips and sliiiiiding it up n’ down so that you’re coating him in all your sweet juices, Choso’s guiding his girth until your hole was quivering for something - anything.
Him him him.
Panting at the first squeeze of his reddened, blushing tip- “Oh, you feel like th-this?” His pitched voice wavers almost as much as his heavy eyelids, falling apart with just that first taste of your perfect cunt. “Fuh-fuuuuuck fuck fuck fuck! Baby- you feel like this?”
This was heaven.
And he’s spurting out a few stray wads of cum just from feeling your velvety walls, letting it thwack! against your goopy innards n’ stick to your trembling folds.
“You got it- you got it.” Choso’s voicebox cracks with a lil’ whimper at that snug resistance, “You can take it- you can take it. I’ll make it fit.”
“Oh- oh my god- Choso- Cho–!”
“S’it too biiig for my girl, hmm?” Croaking out in unison with the aged bedcoils of your mattress, each and every time Choso jerks his hips off the bed and pushes. Just to fit in. “Baby-” Choso gasps as you throw your head back with a mewl at the sheer size of him.
His painfully-aching cock was so big that just the stoutest inch being bullied inside was enough to make your vision blotch with white. Rounded circumference stretching n’ stretching your slick-flooded walls stupid- “I’m sorry, baby- sorry s’big. But you’re my girl- my girl can take it- you can…you can take it.”
It’s inch by overlarge inch.
Choso’s scraping his way down your walls so sensually that you could feel your fuzzy brain sparking every time one of his prominent veins was draaaagging a zig-zagging pattern along.
Curled toes twitching with each passing second, “S-s’it almost all the way in, baby–?”
“Mhm—” And you’re just letting out the cutest cry once he finally eases himself all the way in, practically impaling you. Head throwing back, tits bouncing, cunt overspilling.
“Hmmm…maybe this position isn’t so bad.”
Choso didn’t disagree, but it took every single shred of rationality left inside of him to push back Venom’s rasping voice and wrench out a desperate thrust. Allll the way from the globular ends of his ruby-red tip till your sensitive pussy tickled against his soaked-through happy trail.
Tenderly caressing your palm down his hardened front, “I-it’s in–?” Your hitched tone makes his eyes roll back, and yet- and yet, he’s fighting to bring them back down n’ watch your gaped bounces back into his sloppy pace. “It’s in. O-oh my god, c-can feel you all the way in hck! here.”
He’s just so big.
And you’re swearing that Choso only fattens himself even bigger, fatter, wider once you slide your hand about halfway up your tummy. Feeling for that one spot he was bruisin’ right into your spongy cervix.
Biting his lip not to cum again, “Yeah-” You’re jostled ever-so-slightly on top of him as he’s sucking in a deeeep breath, “Yeah yeah yeah- you got it. Y-you better take all of it hngh! Take every. Single. Inch.”
Every vein, every sliding ridge, every throb that was bucked into your readily-awaiting entrance- Choso wasn’t just mazing open your cunt-
He was spearheading you with such thorough thrusts that made your back curve backwards just so.
“Tch- I’d fuck her even better.”
“No you w-wouldn’t.”
Lazily weaving tendrils start tickling your outer pussy, threatening to slip n’ slide their greedy way past your lips. “Is that a challenge? Summon Venom, if you dare.”
“What’s he saying, Cho?” You coo, tear-shimmered lashes blinking adorably down at his internal argument. And as if he could ever say no to you - hell, the response is dripping from his tongue before he even realizes it.
Grouching out, though he couldn’t deny the way his own cock was jolting at the very idea- “H-he wants a try, too…says he’ll be even better.”
A cockdrunk smile plasters itself onto your face- “Prove it.”
And you were right in your prediction - Venom didn’t just make Choso meaner, it made him bigger.
So big, in fact, that the bawling tip gently kissin’ your g-spot was instantaneously skidding past to give your cervix a longer, harsher probe.
So hard that you’re sure there’s now a permanent crater of his exact meaty circumference. And you’re being filled with the distinct feeling that Venom could’ve gone bigger - he just didn’t want to break you…yet.
Draping across his oversized pectorals, you’re nothing against his over eight foot height. “Y-you…”
Those slimy raven molasses covering his half-fucked face once more to form a rude Cheshire-cat smile. “Me.” Planting an Earth-shattering, mind-numbing ram you’re feeling all the way in your lungs, his pulsing length is so widely thick that Venom has to bite down on his lips and manhandle you for his thrusts to move to and fro. “I am inside your pussy, greedy girl. Me.”
Flicking his dexterous shaft to brush your tingling g-spot, he’s using his powers so much that you could almost feel yourself bonding with the symbiote, with Choso.
“I know every inch, nerve, and spot inside of you. I can make you scream-” Coiling mass contracting to barrel your elastic walls even wider, you’re rightfully crying out at the way he molds himself deliciously into your very walls.
“Nghhh- fuck! Fuck, y-you’re in sooo deep-”
Stealing your sweetened scent, making him heated. “Hmmm, kiss me.”
But that didn’t mean that your best friend- your…Choso was going down that easy.
In a few more brushstrokes of his ravaging cock against your softest spot - before you can kiss him - Choso’s blinking back the cobwebs of his symbiote so that his face spies out. Only the lower half of his body - his length - partially-covered–
“Keh- annoying.”
“Should’ve- should’ve done this sooner-” He hisses out through a narrowed pant, flecks of spittle flying angrily across the non-existent space between your two faces. “-done this muuuuch sooner- you h-have no idea.”
“O-oh nghhh fuck fuck fuck–” The backs of your thighs ache after every slamming pap! you’re bouncing back into his swervin’ hips.
Pounding away like he was crazed, every jackhammer only makes Choso grow more feral. Every swab of his prolonged cock inside your silken pussy feral-
His rummaging, fat-tipped shaft was so large that you could feel the way his ridged cockhead scraped your cervix with his studded Prince Albert’s, roaming like a searchlight to spot your most favorite angles.
Eyeliner practically staining down his cheeks now, “Should’ve fuh-fucked you the moment I ngh- met you. Should’ve fucked you r-right there on the lecture table in front of everyone- sh-should’ve—” You’re squealing once his doughy, ringed fingertips dart down to toy with that pretty lil’ clit of yours. “-should’ve let her drive me hck! crazy sooner, baby.”
Oh, he was babbling.
Cooing, you slither one of your hands through the dampened valleys of his dark hair, “Awww– d-drivin’ you crazy, Cho–?”
“Yes.” He’s seething, he’s heaving. Saturated pheromones driving him mad, he can’t help but flop his pierced tongue across your lips and suck. “S-s’not even that damn parasite anymore-”
Pace growing sloppier by the minute, barely even noticing when those same digits coddling your clit had started to twist and turn in shape. Overtaken by Venom and his meeeean tendrils that alternate between dragging on your overstimulated clit and slipping inside…
“Sh-shit– Venom?”
“Sayin’ another man’s name when I-I’m here- ngh–” Choso’s nosebridge crinkles as he teases you, watery honeypool eyes dropping down to where your glossy hole was swallowing him whole.
Mouth falling into an ah! at the way Venom’s wisping vines were still wrapped snugly to smooch your walls wiiiide open. And fuck- fuck, the sight. The sight of you bulging with all of his staggering cock still taking in more, more, more of him.
“I see…” He’s giggling - giggling, glassy eyes boring dead-on up at you through his curtained bangs and oh- they were shaped into hearts. Baritone voice rasping as one of his veins itches your walls, snagging past your underwear. “Greedy girl.”
It’s almost as if you didn’t know whether it was Choso or Venom taking over now, only fucked dumb with every sharp jut. Both his cock- his tentacle-like strands spreading you open, targeting your g-spot over n’ over with his plummy, split-ended tip.
Digging inside, scouring so wetly.
Spread twice as open that the squelch! squelch! squelch! of it resonating each nanosecond was quickly becoming Choso’s favorite song.
You were damn near shattered.
“I-I’m so close-” You’re hiccuping through your salty tears, brows scrunching at the stormy wave of bliss that was surely oncoming. “-f-fuck! Choso m’gonna cum.”
“Fuck- fuck, m’not gonna last either–” His response comes out guttural, and it’s just so sexy the way that he’s forced to gnaw on the strawberry gummy texture of the inside of his cheeks to stop himself from filling you up right then and there.
“Breed her.” Venom’s voice thunders out enough for the both of you to hear, excitement spiking down your spine and straight to where your pussy was drooling. “I know you want to. I know you both want it.”
Shocked, Choso sounds as if he could still barely even believe this was all real. “I-is that true, baby?” Tentatively craning you over to drag his lips softly against yours, “Can I really…inside…my girl?”
“Mhm– please- please, I wan’ it all inside—!”
“G-get ready.”
The plush, cushy tip of his cock outlines a water-logged line straight down your cervix as Choso leans further into the bed. Feet planting down flatly so that he can pressurize his powerful, inhuman hips to thrust-
“She’s about t-to be full- so full.” You can feel such pangs of desire as his teeth pull back into a primal snarl, tear-glinted eyes locked permanently where his red, swollen cock was disappearing between your legs. “So full that you won’t even remember what it ngh- feels like w-without me stuffed inside this cunt.”
Squirming with a yearning for sweet, sweet release once he hovers a fingertip over to about halfway up your tummy and draws an invisible line there.
“H-here.” Deepening it with the pressure of his rude digits, Choso’s right hand still rolls over your clit with a few shapes of hearts. Once. Twice. Thrice. “Get ready here–”
Whining, “I’m- I’m gonna-”
Before Venom’s slimy tendrils pinch it once more and you’re cumming- and so is he.
But Choso doesn’t even realize it - doesn’t even remember to breathe the very moment you’re creaming all down his pummeling cock. Such cute twitches taking over your body as you shut your eyes and riiiide it all out.
Using his sloppily saturated shaft like a dart that was pokin’ the bullseye of your pussy again and again. Every brushing skid straight across slapping your g-spot repeatedly to drag out your high with a squeeeelch.
And Choso’s licking his lips at the glossy lathering that glued to your folds, then - and only then - catching sight of the dollops of creamy white that was frothing out of your glistening entrance.
Thick and hot.
Every splat! of his ribbony sap hits the back of your pussy like heavily condensed cream, swashing inside of you like a sizzling second skin. It feels so filthy to have his mess beading down your walls and forming such a soaking ring ‘round his bulky hilt.
Your meaty folds spread to smear the puddle that was forming up his happy trail, “You- you feel so good inside.”
“O-oh-” Almost thankful as Venom’s dark strands push aside your torn, sullied panties further for his host to take a better look. Blushing all the way to the tattoos across his nosebridge, “A…a creampie.”
He’d cum- he’d really, really cum - inside of you. Pressing down on the prettily jiggling tummy bulge he was fucking into you- and it’s enough to make you scream. “Want more.”
And you’re just tapering off from your own orgasm, eardrums nearly popped yet still managing to register those words. Clenching, “Wh-what? Will it- hngh- even fit, Choso?”
“No- nononono it will- it will.” Urgent, rapidly he’s flipping the two of you immediately over to hover on top of you and rut- like an animal.
You’re gasping once your head plops down on the soft mattress, heels struggling to cling onto Choso’s sweat-laminated hips until he’s trekking his beefy arms underneath and hauling them over his shoulders. Bending, bending, bending into a–
Oh, a mating press.
He had you manhandled like some lawnchair into a mating press. The sloppiest of its kind, he’s using Venom’s tendrils to lock your ankles together in just two blinks of his eye.
“I can make it fit–” Growling through the tiniest gaps of his grit pearly whites, he kisses his forehead to yours and inhales that sweet scent of yours still permeating the heady air. The chilly heard pendant of his necklace hits the front of your chin and makes you keen. Rough, rugged through punctuating rams, “I will- I will I will- it’ll fit- It will.”
Shivering and shuddering.
He struggles to even focus his eyesight on you properly - and Choso’s heated maw droooops at the deafening squelch! your pussy pushes out once he sinks all the way back in.
A thick capping of white syrup rising all the way to the top once his massive girth once more fills out your every nook and cranny. He’s still so ravenous that the sight down there is enough to make his mouth water.
And this position, this angle made Choso’s elongated shaft lean into your g-spot so bruisingly that with only a few more strokes you’re cumming again.
Fleeting, and faster than you both know it.
It’s only once Choso sniffs at the air and grins that he realizes the rapidly pulsing ba-dump–! of your velveteen walls was because you’re bein’ his good girl and cumming once more.
Heavy breeder balls striking the treacly slope of your cunt until they were raw and red - you’re sure that the both of you are bruised everywhere. His thighs on your own, your ass on his pelvis, you can’t even wriggle your ankles free because Venom’s keeping a firm grip on them.
Rendering you at the full mercy of Choso’s thrashes dragging out your high, “P-please- fuck- it just f-feels too good, Cho-!”
“S’good- s’good-” He’s flushing out in something that looks like a mix of relief and need. No sooner milking himself on your tightly clenched pussy until you’re being filled all over again.
This time with white, wispy ropes of seed that ache his sensitive shaft to spray out, still coating your gummy walls with viscid layers upon layers. So much.
“So good f’me- so good. Look how much sh-she’s ngh- suckin’ in, sooooo full and- and warm…” He was practically twitching right now, trembling. “Jus’ look at that greedy girl.”
You couldn’t even be moved without feeling all its wads splosh inside of you.
And he still wanted more.
Yelping, your legs struggle to shut once his sloppy cadence turns even sloppier. Lazier.
“O-one more-” Choso’s puffing out in a clouded pant, “Keep- keep those pretty legs hck! open f’me- I beg. M’begging- take it, baby.”
Vein-covered forearms placing attractively upon either side of your head to lace right on top of your crowned scalp and push- Weaving wines of the symbiote winding down to furiously pump his cock.
To bloat himself up oh-so-thick straight after two whole orgasms, flying up and down up and down up and down to make his cherry-red divot start weeping once more. “One more- one more.”
“Nghh fuck fuck- Choso–!” Your lower lip wobbles cutely at the carnal glissade of his washboard abs down your own front, he was so strong that you could count every flex and ripple. “S-shooo sensitive-” Eyes shuttering tearfully, you can only jerk your hips up weakly. “-so much. Too much.”
“Never too much.”
Venom’s voice speaks up from somewhere, and you’re feeling the snaking, slimy journey of his tendrils twistin’ around your tits to grope. A greedy handful that teases your hardened nipples so–
“Less talking. More fucking.”
“W-woah-” Choso breathes at the sight before him. You were ruined in only ways he’d seen in his wettest dreams - and it’s not like he was doing any better. Because the way your hips were moving…“B-birthing hips- look at h-her take that big fuckin’ cock. So pretty- so pretty so pretty so pretty.”
You’re so overstimulated that even the slightest brush of his lightning bolted veins makes you gasp- tears springing up to your eyes. “F-feels so…oh.” So good, his stamina was maddening.
“Yeah? Yeahhh? S’all for you- only for you-” Purposefully pressing up close so that your poor clit gets rubbed over by that patch of tawny brown at the base of his abs.
And by now, even Choso’s swivellin’ cold piercing was molten hot and drawing wet slides of cum across your walls. Fervently.
He was fucking you like he couldn’t get enough - would never possibly be able to get enough. Every thrust had him pushing you down once more after the papping recoil, gliding your feverishly sweat-slicked bodies against each other because Choso couldn’t bear to part. “Only for you only for you only for you-”
So gone that he almost doesn’t even register Venom’s deep tone muttering in his ear– “Three.”
Every heated bang of his mushroomy tip plummeting to the back of your overspilling cunt was meant to milk himself. Over and over, he’s tempting out just one more orgasm - just one more to fill you up with more cream. “Two.”
And in your rambling stupor, you’re being drilled into the mattress so spellbound that you don’t even notice the way your unfastened mouth nibbles on Choso’s sexy silver necklace.
“One.”
Gnawing on for dear life as you squirt.
“Oh.”
Simply spraying him with a voluminous heap of your sweet, sappy juices - Choso has the mindless audacity to crane his head even further downwards and catch whatever stray remnants hit his awaiting maw.
“F-fuck…” You feel like you’ve just been put through ten thousand wringers and milked dry from your poor, tingling core. Gushing and gushing- it’s almost embarrassing how much you’re leaking around Choso’s meaty base.
Well, embarrassing for everyone but Choso…and Venom.
He was mesmerized - he was hypnotized. A glistening few droplets of pussydrunken drool slipping from the corner of his mouth as he just watched himself get drenched in all your torrential orgasm whilst he emptied out for the third- fourth, fuck he doesn’t even know - inside you.
Raw, and messy - milking himself until he’s hitting a damn dry orgasm.
“O-oh.” Choso doesn’t even know what to fucking say above your cutely trilling mewls, every languid pump of his flinching cock sending massive shockwaves through both of you. He blushes, “Oh.”
“That was fun. Now, make her yours or I will.” Venom grumbles, the symbiote already starting to take over Choso’s body with its blackened mass.
And the man jolts- remembering all at once that this was you you you underneath him. Thumb absent-mindedly reaching down to write his last name over the mess spurted across your tummy.
You, who he’s wanted all his life-
“M-marry me, my girl.”
The smile that breaks across your face is one he’ll remember for eons.
“I love you, too, Cho–” You’re purring, tucking one of the mahogany strands plastered onto his forehead behind his ear.
“I love you.” He’s bursting out at once- rose-pink lips wobbly and wet against your own. He’s kissing you like he needed you to breathe, “I love you- oh, how I love you.”
“Satisfying. But we need more.”
“Dammit.”
And Venom doesn’t care - Venom cackles to himself as he seethes in yet another gust of your honey-dipped scent and pulls out. The sensitivity startling through your body is so shocking that he’s shooting out a dark web that attaches your hips to the bed. Unmoving.
But, of course, he takes his leisurely time to stroll near the edge of your bed. Monstrously hulking over it to sweep apart your bloated pussylips and watch the way Choso’s cum driiiiips out.
Now completely encompassing his body— “A three course meal. Yum.”
He was far from done.
You’re sobbing at the sloooooow draaaag of his glistening, large tastebuds down your weeping hole. Unapologetic and primal. “F-fuck! Your stamina…” It was truly monstrous just how pent-up that he was right now, being pushed off by your new boyfriend- fiancé? for so long now.
Holding you tight with a few tendrils ‘round your waist to keep you from running—
“We’re going to keep this one.” His long, venomous teeth sink into your inner-thigh, not toxic to you. Not at all, but claiming; and the feeling was as good as cumming again. “You’re ours now, pretty girl.”
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.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Smau: in which the jjk men are your roommates in a modern au and they used something in your room for their self-pleasure session
Warnings: lots of cursing, sexual language, pervy roommates (all of them and not just the usual suspects), not proofread
Featuring: Gojo, Geto, Choso, Toji, Nanami, Sukuna
Want more roommate shenanigans?
Synopsis: in which everything falls apart in one night because of a bad argument between you and Toji
Warnings: angst, major character death, hurt/no comfort, f!reader, lots of swearing, grief, some description of bodily injury but nothing graphic, there's no light in this tunnel like fr, not proofread
Word Count: 5.2k
“I just don’t understand why you’d rather go to the bar than sit here with me?”
Toji scoffs. “All we fucking do is sit here. What’s so bad about me taking a break and getting some air?”
“A break?” Your hands are flying, waving about as if they could get it through his head how ridiculous he sounds. “You want a break from me? So, what, I’m this horrible monster you just can’t wait to get away from?”
This argument has been going on for hours at this point, with neither of you willing to cave. It started with you, in comfy pyjamas and face mask, preparing dinner and super excited to watch a new movie on Netflix with your boyfriend, but when he came out of the shower, he was in jeans and a shirt without stains. You both looked just as incredulous as each other. He said he was going out. That he had told you. And you were sure he hadn’t because if he had, then you wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of making a hearty meal, laying out the snacks and his very own matching pjyamas.
Slowly, like he thinks you can’t understand anything when it’s said at a normal pace, he answers, “I didn’t say that. You’re acting fucking crazy, woman. Look, I’m going out to the bar, with my friends, and that’s that. You can do all the shit you wanted to do on your own.”
He’s walking to the door now, grabbing a jacket on the way. Stomping over to him, you get in the way, blocking his exit with a furious glare. There’s no way this conversation’s ending like this, with him deciding it’s the end, with him getting what he wants and your feelings being trampled all over because he’d rather drink himself to death than cuddle on the sofa with you.
“No.”
“No?”
“Yeah, I said, ‘no.’ You’re not going. We have to talk about this.” Toji opens his mouth, disbelieving and growing more irritated with every syllable you utter, and you know he’s going to ask what the fuck you mean about ‘this,’ so you get the words out before he does, “This. Us. Our night. Our home. Why don’t you want to be with me?”
Rolling his eyes, he bulldozes past you, pushing you to the side. You don’t let him. You’re tugging on his jacket, nails digging into the thick material. He can’t go. What if he never comes back?
The words that have been thrown around tonight are sharp edged swords, though they don’t dig deep, they weave several shallow cuts that sting. No ambulance to rush you away, no hospital to take you, no surgeon to sew you back up. You just bleed out, alive and wobbling away.
Clearly beyond done, Toji grunts, easily shrugging off your pathetic attempts to hold him back. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about and I don’t want to hear it right now. Just get out of the way.”
“No, answer me.”
Pitiful fists smack into his chest in a flurry. He doesn’t budge, doesn’t even flinch. You want to make him hurt. That ache inside your chest, the one that’s holding onto the tears that threaten to stream down your face, that’s driving you insane – you want him to feel it. You want him to care.
Toji doesn’t relent. Instead, he stands there, an immovable statue sculpted by someone else, and pinches his nose. “Just stop.”
“No. Why are you always leaving? Huh? Why can’t you just stay? What’s so fucking wrong with me that you don’t want to have dinner and watch a movie with your girlfriend?”
“Because you’re suffocating me!” He bellows.
You stumble back.
“I can’t fucking breathe. God, I can’t even think without you nagging me. ‘Let’s get dinner,’ ‘let’s go to a museum,’ ‘let’s wear matching shirts.’ It’s never enough for you. For fuck’s sakes, I just want to be able to put my feet up, drink beer and not have to cater to every fucking whim of yours like I’m some goddamn dog.” Combing a hand through his hair, he breathes through his nose. He’s losing steam – you can see it in the way his shoulders fall and he shakes his head, slowly, weary and fatigued. Then, with a quieter, gentler, more desperate tone, he asks, “I see you everyday and you still want more? You ain’t tired of this shit? Of all the fake coupley shit that you think we have to do otherwise we’re frauds? You haven’t had enough? ‘Cause I’m growing pretty fucking sick of all the bullshit.”
Speechless, you just keep as still as you can, feeling mighty small under the weight of his words. You’ve never seen Toji like this. Usually he’s passive, allowing you to ramble on and on about whatever’s filling your mind, even when you’re mad at him, when he’s heard your story a million times before, and even in your worst moment when you bait him into chasing after you. Through it all, your boyfriend took your insecurities and flaws like a champ.
Now he’s done. Now he’s been backed into a corner and there’s nowhere else for him to go except past you.
It’s unclear to you what expression you wear on your face; you can really only focus on that hollow sinkhole widening in your heart. Something about your eyes makes his close tight. Toji breathes once, twice, and says, “We’ll talk later. I’m late.”
And then he leaves.
His jacket is dangling from your clutches and it’s suddenly so heavy. Tears threaten to fall. You don’t let them, even when your bottom lip wobbles and so does your balance. Heaving, you lean against the wall.
How did it all fall apart so quickly?
The day had started off like normal: sweaty, dirty sex, pillowtalk, late breakfast, lazy lounging around the living room, and catching each other up on what’s happening on your phones. Weekdays are more productive, what with you both having jobs to do, but weekends are yours and his to share. Or at least that’s what you thought.
An eerie silence falls upon the apartment. It’s unlike the silences you’re used to, like being the last one to leave the house and you’re eating the breakfast Toji made for you, or waiting for him to come back from throwing the bins out, being the first to come home, sitting in bed doing your own thing as you slowly unwind from the day’s toils.
You can’t stand it – the doing nothing – so you shuffle away from the closed door that’s not going to open anytime soon. There’s a lot to tidy anyway: the plates of food untouched, the unfolded blanket you wanted to be cuddled under, face masks and snacks and dips, and the pile of clothes he probably wasn’t going to wear even if you begged.
Maybe you are too much.
Maybe what Toji was saying had some merit to it.
All those outings he would have never done if you hadn’t pleaded with a huge smile and puppy dog eyes were planned by you. The dinners reserved by you, the anniversaries, the dates, all of it. You. It wasn’t as if he didn’t love you. The fact that he did all of it, albeit begrudgingly, was proof of that. His love showed in his gentle touch, his patience, though limited, and in the fact that, through the ups and downs, he still stayed.
But he won’t forever, not when he feels…suffocated.
With a sigh, you grab your phone, snatch his jacket and decide you’re not going to let him be out there, cold and angry.
So you, too, leave.
.
.
.
“Go home, Fushiguro.”
That isn’t what Toji wants to hear from his friend slash handler, Shiu. Truthfully, he wanted to be validated, wanted the man to tell him you were acting crazy, and that he wasn’t wrong for walking out.
As he stomped into the bustling bar, the suited man took one look at him, shook his head with an exhausted laugh and took a huge gulp of his whiskey, knowing damn well it was going to be a long night. It always is when the scarred man looks ready to kill and for free.
Toji takes a swig of his beer. “You didn’t hear a single shit I said? I said, ‘I'm not in the mood to get into it with her again.’”
“Being a man is about learning to take the beatings life hands you,” Shiu professes mysteriously, tracing the rim of his glass.
“Fuck off.”
Sitting in the corner of the bar, they’re left alone to wallow in their problems – one man chronically alone and the other about to lose it all. They don’t remember how they found each other or why they stayed as friends when they barely like the other, but they suppose it’s really because through all the faces they’ve met, not many have ever stuck around. But they did. And that has to mean something.
The bastard is rarely not right and he knows it. He prattles off great advice with a smug face and one has to fight the urge to lay a good one on his nose. No matter how fucked up shit gets, Shiu could always make things so simple, so clear, and straightforward that he’d feel like a dumb sack of shit.
In fact, that’s pretty damn close to how he feels now.
Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he admits, “I feel like shit. Like I got hit by a fucking truck. Look at me. I’m sitting here talking about my fucking feelings with your stupid ass. She’s always gotta get into my head about things. Made me a chump. Fucking hate this. Me. I turned into a pussy.”
“I don’t know about you, Fushiguro, but I like the you she created.”
Toji snorts. “What the fuck does that even mean?”
“You were a massive asshole,” Shiu begins, using a tone that suggests it should be obvious to the man sitting opposite him. “You were angry all the time, moody and brooding for no reason. Hours could pass and you wouldn’t say a single word. Ha, a college kid bumped into you and you knocked his shit before he could even open his mouth to apologise. Made him piss his damn pants. Got everyone scared of your big ass.”
He couldn’t deny that. Their friends, if you could call them that, often joked that he was a monster. And yeah, well, moving place to place, house to house, couch to couch would make a monster out of anyone. Before, these kinda criticisms would have rolled off his back, maybe even brought a smirk to his scarred lips, but something about the person he is now makes that sudden blast from the past bring a grimace to his face.
Shiu chuckles and, with a clink of his glass to Toji’s, says, “Look at you now – you actually shower and smell less like horse shit these days. Sure, you’re still killing for a living but you don’t do that shit with a smile on your face like a psycho now. Hell, you even tip. You used to steal tips, remember? And then just last month, some pimply-faced kid fell onto our table and spilled our drinks and I, honest to God, thought you’d beat him black and blue –instead, what did you do? Huh? Tell me. What did you do?”
“Fuck you.”
“You fucking picked him back up and told him, ‘Get some water in ya, the girl you came with likes you so don’t embarrass yourself.’” He throws his head back and laughs as if he just heard the funniest joke come out of his own mouth. “And don’t try to argue with me. You know she’s cleaned you up, made an honest man out of you, or as honest as a killer-for-hire can be. You smile more, Fushiguro. Fucking cheesing at your damn phone, leaving the bar early, speeding to get the fuck home before she does just so you can do God know’s what – and don’t say, I’d rather not know.”
The changes he talks about, Toji hadn’t noticed. Of course, he knew life had changed for him. A steady, secure home with a woman that sees him and is happy with what fills her vision, a woman who doesn’t mind hearing grunts as replies, who’s patient and kind, that cleans up the blood off his shirts and does it all with a smile. There's stability in his life now. Something that gets him up in the morning other than hunger and a need to piss. A thing to look forward to, a home to come back to.
"Honestly, I don't know why you'd rather be here with me than her. If I had a woman half as good as her, you'd never see my sorry face. Any more of these nights with you and people will think we're lovers, which is fine by me, just as long as they know I'm on top."
A bead of condensation drips down the neck of his beer bottle. The bar’s too loud, too crowded and it doesn’t smell sweet and floral like home. Everyone’s too drunk to give a shit about what’s happening outside, far too elated with the clumsy grinding and grimy sweating of bodies. Maybe that’s why he likes places like this so much; it’s easy to forget your responsibilities, your past, and all the things that drag you down.
But that’s not you. You’re not a burden, you’re a part of his present, and the only thing that keeps him going.
So why didn’t he act like it?
You looked so damn excited to watch that movie with him and he crushed that spark that makes you you under his boot, for what? For booze? For some time alone with an asshole wearing a tailored suit and tie in a dingy bar?
The words he spewed at you come crashing back like a tidal wave of regret and shame. He told you you were suffocating him. He told a bunch of lies, anything to get you off his back, to make his need for alcohol justified. Like. A. Fucking. Pussy.
Glancing at his phone, he sees missed calls and a voicemail. From you. So does Shiu, who whistles and suggests, “You’re done for, my man.”
“Fuck.” Toji throws his head back. He fucked up. Big time. Running a hand down his face, he says, “I need to go. I need to get home, catch her before she fucking leaves me or some shit. Ah, fuck, fuck, fuck.”
A couple papers get thrown on the table, along with whatever loose change he has in his pockets, and he lunges out of the bar faster than if there was a fire, though not before he sees, in the corner of his eyes, a familiar looking smug tilt of a brow on a suited prick.
He’s driving home now, fingers thrumming on the wheel, a subconscious desperation to manifest the ability to push the car beyond its limits and get to its destination faster. The useless piece of shit isn’t going fast enough; every second he wastes getting home when he should have been there to begin with is a second closer to him losing everything he never deserved to have in the first place.
Images of you crying, hugging yourself and waiting by the door, or sleeping, alone, in an empty bed flash in his mind and without realising it, he’s accelerating even more. The roads are empty this time of night and he thanks the universe; the last thing he needs is to be honked at.
Why couldn’t he just suck it up?
Movie nights are a lot of work – he often has to drive down to the store and get all the snacks your heart desires, squeeze into the cheesy pyjamas you bought him, let you spread some goo on his face, and then sit through some chick flick that he grumbles about at the start but gets really into once ten or twenty minutes has passed. All the dates that required him to get off his ass sent dread settling in his stomach usually turn out more fun than he thought. Because you know him. Because you know his strengths and weaknesses, his sore points and intolerances. And love him because of them.
Having half a mind to listen to the voicemail you sent, Toji thinks about what he wouldn’t want to hear. What he can’t. The argument was bad, yes, he admits. But it’s not bad enough to quit, to end the beautiful thing you’ve grown, to give up. There’s no life after you, without you. It’s just you. You’re his…everything. And when he gets home, he’ll take you into his arms, apologise for all the shit he said and will say, and watch that movie with you. Hell, he’ll watch it a million times.
Toji will do anything to make it up to you.
Maybe he should take you to the sea. That’d be a nice break from the chaos of the city. You two can go fishing, take long walks down the beach like women love to do, and do that thing he watched in a movie, where he carries you into the water, laughing and giggling.
And what about the ring he’s been meaning to buy?
Flashing lights catch his attention. A fuckload of police cars and ambulances off the side of the road. Toji’s brows furrow. “Fuck happened there?”
Palm sweaty, he fishes his phone out. That voicemail he’s been ignoring, pretending it doesn’t exist because if it’s anything other than an ‘I love you, let’s not break up,’ he might just throw his phone out the car. He runs a hand through his hair and presses play, only hesitating twice. A second of static silence reaches his ears before your voice does.
“Hey, Toji…I, um, don’t know if you want to hear from me right now."
Your voice has the corner of his scarred lip twitching. It's the tender and gentle voice he knows, and not the scratchy half-screams he last heard. The latter never suited you. It's just not who you are and deserve to be.
"But uh…I wanted to say sorry…You’re right, I was a lot today, like usual….And I’m sorry. About the movie that you didn’t want to watch, t-the face masks and the food I didn’t even ask if you wanted to eat. God, I’m so fucking sorry, Toji...I was too much, wasn’t I?”
He shakes his head. There’s a creeping sudden tension rising up his spine and he tightens his hold on the wheel, slowing down for show so the uniformed men don’t give him shit, and as soon as the red and blues of the night disappear from his rearview mirror, he revs up.
“I think it’s ‘cause there’s so much I want to do with you, y’know? Like, you’ve lived a whole life before me and it’s a little intimidating….You’ve loved before…and it’s beautiful…but you’re my first and I’m not trying to compete with her or anything, I swear! I just want to make our own memories, y’know? I want experiences too. And when you’re quiet, less active, less…present, I guess it triggers something in me: a need to compensate. Maybe one could even say I’m overcompensating and they wouldn’t be wrong, I guess.”
When he pulls up, his feet carry him out and into the building on autopilot, gravel crunching under his shoes and the weight of the world bearing down on his shoulders. There’s no one else around. The lights of every window are off. It’s too quiet. Toji scratches his chest.
“I don’t know where I’m going with this; you know I ramble when I’m nervous. Maybe I should just go to sleep and wait for you, fight through that feeling I’m getting that says I won’t see you ever again after this. I should sleep everything off…but I couldn’t let our night go like this. You have that mission tomorrow and you’re going to be gone for a couple days so I guess I just wanted to cram some time together…”
The door’s unlocked. He flexes his hand, knuckles turning white with the tight clench of his fist. Somehow, his work schedule had eluded him; it was you who kept up with all that admin shit that Shiu never bothers to remind him about, after all.
“I should have known it’d be too much. I mean, you’re right that we see each other every day – that was hyperbole, of course...I think anyway...but it’s practically true. We see each other a lot…but I don’t know…I guess I just thought it wasn’t enough.
Your voice grows quiet and he has to lift the speaker of his phone to his ear to hear your next words over the sound of his heart pounding.
“To me, I could never see too much of you. I always want to see you. To be with you. And…you don’t feel the same…”
Something painful scrunches in his chest, it almost makes him double over. Under his breath, he mutters, “No, baby. I do. Fuck, I do.”
“And that’s okay. I’m realising now that that’s probably healthy. I think I just love you too much. More than you love me – that’s not a complaint at all, I promise. It’s not a reflection of you but rather of me….God, I’m crazy, aren’t I? I never know when to shut up and wow, even now I’m saying ‘I’ a lot. Okay, so yeah, I have problems and I need to work on them.”
You’re not in the living room. The TV is off. And what was that about him loving you less? That’s bullshit. Complete and utter bullshit. You know that. You have to. Right?
Making a mental note to make that the first thing you hear, he continues his search.
“Ma? Where you at?” He checks the kitchen and finds containers of the food you prepared put neatly away. It’s his favourite. His stomach rumbles. “You sleeping, doll?”
The bedroom’s empty too. Fuck.
“I’ll work on it, Toji…so, please, will you give me a chance? To do better. To be better.”
He’s checked every room. Twice. And again. You’re not home. But that can’t be right. You have to be home. You just have to. It’s dark outside and cold and dangerous and he’s not there to hold your hands to make sure they don’t fall off from the frost of summer.
Louder, nearing a scream, he says, “Baby, I’m not messing around. Tell me where you are. You hiding? Is that it? You hiding from me? Fuck, sweetheart, I promise I’m not mad, okay? So just come out here. L-let me see my gorgeous girl, yeah?”
Breathing faster and faster until he has to lean against the wall for balance, Toji scrambles to think. You’re saying so much so fast and he can’t keep up. For every sentence you utter there’s a whole conversation to be had. So many inaccuracies he needs to correct, to set straight. Where the hell did you even get all this shit you’re saying?
Not from him, right?
He didn’t make you feel so small, did he?
The woman that had built him up crumbling all by herself because he’d rather drink himself to death than live a life you made possible for him. Fucking bastard. Ungrateful son of a bitch. Useless fucker.
“Uh this is getting long, sorry. We can talk more about it when I see you. So, yeah, that’s what I was trying to say. I’m driving over to the bar to give you your jacket. You forgot it. Or maybe you left it on purpose. I don’t know. I just don’t want you to be cold. Or maybe it’s just an excuse to see you, hopefully smiling...You don’t smile without a bottle in your hand nowadays but if I had a clingy girlfriend, I’d probably be making out with beer too. I’m kidding. Sorry, that’s not funny…okay, so, um, I love you and I’ll see you soon. Bye.”
Flashing lights,
Cop cars.
Ambulances.
The crowd…gasping and pointing.
And a flipped over car he only now just processed.
The ride over to the crime scene goes by in a blur. Only static and the faint sound of your voice on repeat playing in the background. Every stop light is ignored, pedestrians barely avoided, and the wheels pushed to their very limits. All while he foregoes wearing a seatbelt.
Toji doesn’t breathe. Doesn’t think or slow down or answer the many calls from unknown numbers.
He doesn’t even make a sound.
Not until he arrives, shoves past tiny men with their tiny understanding of who you are and what you mean to him, and finds a body wrapped up in a bag. Rushing of blood fill his ears. People try to hold him back, to get him away, but there must be something in his face or his eyes that warns, ‘don't get in my fucking way’
It’s akin to a wounded yelp of a wild beast or the guttural flames of hell as it opens up and consumes whole poor, unfortunate souls. No one’s ever heard anything like it. Yet, they know. Just from the way he had fallen to his knees, had rushed to yank that zipper down but hesitated to pull the bag open. But the sound…the sound tells a whole story.
Some look away, half paying respect and half all too familiar with the scene. Others can’t. They bear witness to the shaking hands that cradle your cold face, cut up and bleeding, and the one sided conversation.
“No, no, baby, what h-happened? Wake up.” Toji’s patting your cheeks, searching for a flicker of your lashes or the rise of your chest. Even now when he feels the nauseating coldness on a body that had only ever kept him warm he's mindful of the force he's using. He could never hurt you. Not like this. “Come on, this isn’t fucking funny. Open your eyes, baby. Come on. Please.”
Shallow cuts on your face, glass shards still embedded in the skin graze his thumb as he brushes the hair from your hair. They cut him too until the blood staining the skin he’d felt and tasted are both his and yours.
“I need you. I need to talk to you. Fuck, it isn’t fucking fair. You got to say your shit. You need to hear me apologise ‘cause I am fucking sorry. You hear me, you stubborn woman? I’m s-sorry. So wake the fuck up. Please. I can’t do this without you. I just can’t.”
The car’s totalled. Hit a tree. He can hear the police talk on their radio, something about how you were crushed for hours, alive and yelling for help, but was dead when anyone got to the scene. A roaring of injustice wages war in his very soul. His babygirl in pain and alone and dying. Did you call out for his name? Did you think he was going to come even till your last moments?
He doesn't know how long he holds you for, can't even tell if it's raining or if he's just sweaty as hell. Those trembling hands of his, that have killed countless men and got him this far in life, seem so useless now as he wills warmth into your limbs. Your pyjamas are soaked with a metallic liquid; they stain his hands.
A familiar face shows up, suit wrinkled. “Fushiguro. They need the body.”
Firm hands pull at him, tugging him away. He won’t let go. Can’t let you be all by yourself. Look at you. You’re not even wearing a jacket. Silly girl. You’d bring his but not your own?
Do you always have to be so goddamn perfect?
Pressing a kiss to your forehead, he says, “Let’s go home, yeah? Let’s go home and watch that movie. That sound good, doll?”
But you don’t answer.
Not his prayers the next day or his pleadings the week after and certainly not your phone every day since.
Toji never touches another bottle again if only because when he does his mind gets so blurry, so fucked out, he can’t envision the exact angles of your smile or how many wrinkles form at the corner of your eyes. Honestly, if he could, he'd never return to that place you two lived in; it's far too big now and everywhere he looks he sees you. But where else would he go? Where else in this fucked world could he go to find you?
He doesn’t eat either – no one’s cooking tastes the same as yours. They lack something he thinks he might never find again. And maybe that’s fine. It was always too good for him anyway.
None of the people that show up to his door are allowed in; they’d just disturb the air you touched. Not his friends or yours, he has no family and yours don’t really want to see him. Good thing too. He can’t deal with the pity or the attempts to relieve him of his responsibility.
‘It’s not your fault,’ they say. ‘It was an accident.’
Shit doesn’t matter. Nothing does. How could anything mean shit to a man who only wants to spend his days in bed, holding your pillow over his face, simultaneously wanting to consume every particle of your scent and suffocate on memories of a life he barely lived?
They say he shouldn't let your death define you but how would that even be possible? You've always defined him. There's only the Toji before you, during you, and without you. He thinks maybe his life will forever be defined by all the things he never should have said and the things he wishes he did. That's the real tragedy.
'You need to move on.'
Bullshit. All those grief counselling pamphlets and self-help books don't know shit. There's no moving on. There's only you.
The worst, perhaps, that he’s heard is, ‘she’d hate to see you like this.’
Because what the fuck do they know about you?
Those assholes see a man locked away, beard growing in, dark circles under his eyes, and an air of death about him. Whereas Toji sees himself as someone who’s keeping your memory alive. Because, contrary to what you believed, you weren’t too much. God, you couldn't ever be too much. With your scent fading, your clothes collecting dust and the divot in your spot on the sofa evening out, he thinks he hasn’t had enough. Could never have enough.
Even the fact that when he closes his eyes he sees you serves as no consolation. It’s not enough. He wasn’t enough. Wasn’t man enough. Didn’t love you enough. Toji needs to touch you, to feel you, to make up for all that he never gave you when he should have. Wherever you are, he wants to be.
His girl all alone? No, he can’t have that. Someone needs to listen to you ramble, to lift heavy things for you and hold you the way you like when you sleep. Who's keeping you company up there? Who's drawing on your palm when you get nervous? Who is telling you you've always been enough?
Someone needs to be there for you.
Staring at a picture of you on his bedside table, he smiles softly.
suguru only realizing he has been edging you when he hears you whine
you’re sprawled across his sheets, your shirt discarded and skirt hiked up, thighs parted as geto kneels between them, his long hair loose, brushing his shoulders, his dark eyes focused, but softened with that calm, reverent gaze he reserves for you.
his fingers are inside you, two of them moving slow, curling just right, his thumb grazing your clit with maddening precision, but never enough to push you over the edge.
you’re trying to stay composed, your breaths shaky, your hands gripping the sheets, but he’s been at this for what feels like forever, building you up, then slowing, his touch so controlled it’s driving you insane.
he doesn’t know he’s edging you, doesn’t realize how close you are, how desperate, his focus entirely on watching your reactions, savoring every hitch in your breath, every tremble in your thighs.
“suguru..” you murmur your voice strained, trying to keep it together as his fingers curl again, slow and deep, sending a wave of heat through you, your core tightening, so close but not there.
“you’re— you’re killing me.” he chuckles, low and smooth, his lips curling into a faint, amused smile, his thumb brushing your clit again.
“am i?” he says, his voice calm, his eyes flicking to yours. “you look so pretty like this, though. can’t help myself.” his fingers slide deeper, slow, steady, his gaze locked on your face, studying every twitch, every gasp, like he’s memorizing you.
you bite your lip your body trembling, the pleasure coiling tight, as his thumb grazes again, too soft, too slow, pulling back just when you need more.
your hips buck chasing his hand, and a high, desperate whine escapes your lips, cutting through the quiet, geto freezes, his fingers pausing inside you, his eyes widening slightly, then narrowing with sudden understanding, a slow, wicked smirk spreading across his face.
“oh.” he says, his voice dropping, a mix of amusement and realization, leaning closer, his hair brushing your thigh. “have i been teasing you, sweetheart? keeping you right on the edge?”
his thumb circled your clit again, focusing on the way your body would twitch again. “suguru, please...” you whine again, your voice breaking, your hands grabbing his wrist, urging him, your thighs trembling, your body screaming for release.
“didn’t know you were—fuck, just don’t stop, im so close.” he hums, low and thoughtful, his fingers resuming their slow, torturous rhythm, curling just right, his thumb pressing harder, but still not enough.
“didn’t know, huh?” he says, his lips brushing your inner thigh. “my bad, love, you’re so responsive, i got carried away.” his eyes flick to yours, his smirk softening. “you want it now? tell me.”
“yes, fuck, yes....” you gasp your voice getting desperate, your hips rocking against his hand, your body aching, the edge so close it hurts. “suguru, please, make me cum, i can’t—shit.”
“alright, sweetheart...” he murmurs his voice low, soothing, but with that edge of control, his fingers thrusting faster, his thumb circling your clit hard.
“i've got you, let go for me.” his eyes locked on yours, drinking in every moan, every shudder, his hair tickling your skin as he leans closer, his lips grazing your thigh.
“suguru...” you cry, your voice shattering, your orgasm hitting, your body clenching tight around his fingers, pleasure crashing through you, raw and overwhelming, your thighs shaking, your hands fisting the sheets.
(trueform) sukuna, the amalgamation of all things sharp and evil, is... a virgin?
you laugh when he tells you. he ponders the merits of spanking you for making a fool of his abstinence.
'don't mock me' he had pouted like a kicked puppy, eyebrows knit together in a faux fury that just makes him look dumb, because anger on ryomen sukuna is only natural in every direction but yours.
you have that asshole wrapped around your finger.
well, you did. until you laughed at him for being a virgin, and he decided his many years of celibacy were ideal to be broken by someone with your gall.
know you're wrapped around his fingers. literally, knuckles deep while he plunges them in and out and in and out of your pussy on a grating loop that has your vision gated by stars and tears after only a few minutes.
he's fucking good for a virgin. you wonder if he's better with his cock than he is with his fingers—whether he's fucked his fist late at night to the thought of doing things like this to you. how depraved he's let his mind become. if his fantasies would frighten you or not.
"i didn't mean to laugh," you try pleading after your first orgasm on his fingers. "i wasn't laughing at you, it's just hard to believe. don't you have concubines?"
"i'm not a philanderer," he grunts, curling his thick fingers inside of you.
"do you even—fuck, ryomen—do you even know what a philanderer is?"
"a whore," he bites. "i saw no point in engaging in such... carnal affairs. i don't like playing with my food."
well that's a lie. you roll your eyes, half in defiance and half because you think sukuna might be rewiring your brain matter with this kind of pleasure. so much so that you start to say stupid things without thinking of the consequences in doing so.
"so it's not because your cock is small?"
and he stops. you're thankful for the break, though you tighten around his fingers in some sort of biological protest to the lack of stimulation. sukuna, all hot and heady, takes your face in his one of his free hands and squeezes your cheeks together, bulging your lips.
"my cocks are adequate in size."
"cocks?" you're speech is muffled by sukuna's grip on your face. "like, more than one?" you squint your eyes at him "do you have multiple cocks, sukuna?"
indeed he does.
after another orgasm on his fingers, and then one on his tongue (which left both you and him in a mess of spit and sweet release) he finally disrobed and let you bask in the frightening sight of his two cocks, stacked one on top of the other, both hard and veiny and leaking at the tips with a copious amount of pre.
he's huge. in both cases. you suppose you should have signed something before laying down for the man, right? still, a curling need eats at your lower stomach: to have him like this when no one else has.
"are... will..." you clear your throat. "so, uh. they're both going inside of me?"
sukuna doesn't speak at first, probably because he's growing impossibly harder at the look of fear on your face. he lays you back and situates you beneath him, his rough hands oddly gentle for what's most likely the last kind thing he'll do to you tonight.
"no," he says. "next time. i want to... see something."
see something? sukuna steps between your parted legs and looks lustfully at the mess he's left of you. you're somewhat ashamed for becoming such a sight after teasing him like you did, but the hunger in his eyes are enough of a balm to shift your shame into... fear? want? a deep-rooted masochism?
kuna strokes one of his cocks, the one on the underside, a few times before lining it up with your entrance. resigned to your fate, you close your eyes and take a long breath in and then letting the air empty from your lungs in preparation for the stretch.
but it doesn't come.
you open one eye to find sukuna staring back at you. two of his hands hold your thighs apart in a force that is sure to leave bruises, the third holds his cock steady against your pulsing hole... but the fourth just hangs.
that is, until he snakes it up your torso, nice and slow, and then trails it down the length of your arm to lace his fingers with yours. a hand to hold through his first time.
"tell anyone and i end your bloodline," he says. you smile, and he growls and presses forward, taking the plunge and entering your tight warmth, leaving his virginity at the door.
as he pushes himself further and further in, his second cock rests on your stomach, leaking pre-cum all over your pretty skin. once he's bottomed out, which is a feat that takes a whole lot of squirming and clenched teeth on your end, he stills inside of you.
his eyes are glued to where his second cock lays on your tummy. it's an indicator of just how deep inside of you he is. how much of your body he's claimed as his own in that searing but all-too pleasurable stretch of his mean size. he squeezes your hand tight.
you're already teary-eyed, revelling in the almost hedonistic way your pussy tries to suck him in even further. you're sure that any deeper would be a health risk, but you've never felt this good before. this full.
and still, sukuna just stares down at his cock laying on your belly. he's so deep, sheathed inside of you in the most intimate display of connection besides... cannibalism? his mind races, his mouth goes dry, and with an almost pathetic moan from deep in his chest, ryomen sukuna cums both inside of you and all over your stomach at the same time.
without even a full thrust inside of you.
you gasp, the sheer amount of cum flooding into you at once is overwhelming. "did you just—"
"no."
you lift your head to look at the release painting your stomach: so much so that it's covering your tits too. "you just came in one stroke."
"shut the fuck up."
"you really are a virgin, still holding my hand, too."
sukuna growls at that, lowers his body against yours just to show off his crushing weight. a bite to your earlobe is soon followed by a few harsh words in your ear.
"do you want to be ripped in half by my cocks? shut your fucking mouth or i'll gladly—"
Ever since you explained to Satoru how that long haired man he was close with tried to make a move on you, it was like something in his demeanor shifted.
You hadn’t even meant to say it. You weren’t the type to try to get a reaction out of satoru. It just slipped out during some random conversation. How the dark haired man had leaned a little too close one while you were all out drinking. How his hand lingered longer than it should’ve when he handed you your shot glass. How he looked at you like it was more than just the alcohol that was getting to him.
Which is why, later, your legs were hooked over Satoru’s shoulders and your back was arched off the bed, a pillow shoved beneath your hips to tilt you up for him.
His tongue was relentless, messy, and unhurried. Like he had all the time in the world to ruin you. Slurping softly between slow strokes of his tongue, teasing the edge of your clit with the flat of his tongue until your thighs trembled against his cheeks.
“Now he’ll understand who you belong to, hm?” Satoru muttered smugly between licks, lips brushing wet over your folds. However, He didn’t say it for you. He said it for the camera recording.
The one he’d set up specifically to send to Suguru.
His phone was propped up somewhere behind him, catching every slick sound, every twitch of your hips, every time his name slipped from your lips.
And to answer his own question? He was wrong.
Terribly Wrong.
Later that night, while you were fast asleep, Satoru’s phone lit up.
A message from Suguru.
It was a photo.
A photo of Suguru, taken from the angle of his neck down— pearly ropes of cum spilled across his stomach, the mess still glistening, his hand still wrapped around the base of his cock, and sent with the following message:
“Didn’t know you were into sharing. Next time get a close up lol.”
A/n: who’s up and absolutely jorkin they shi! *I say before getting sucked into the void*
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.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
cont: fem! reader, oral (f receiving), mutual masturbation, semi-public sex + risk of being caught, Nanami is your dad (non-incestual), slight voyeurism/exhibitionism undertones
WC: 2.3k
obsessedneighbor!Takuma, who was first introduced to you through a friend, not knowing you were related to Nanami.
You, who just happened to be his age.
And live right across from him.
And be his exact type. On paper.
…That same night he’d prayed to the gods.
You never thought much of Takuma at first. To you, he was just some guy with a quiet demeanor. But when he first introduced himself to you, you had no idea he was connected to Nanami. That was the night you learned that Takuma had been living right across from you for a while and, unbeknownst to you, had already started making himself familiar with your life.
obsessedneighbor!Takuma, who happened to live right across from you, & would intentionally leave his window open just to get glimpses of you either through your window or when you occasionally stepped outside to take out the trash, pick up the mail, or take the dogs on walks in the early morning light.
It wasn’t intentional at first, but over time, Takuma realized that he was captivated by you. The way you carried yourself. The way your laugh sounded from your window when you chatted with your friends. And before long, he found himself observing you more than he cared to admit.
obsessedneighbor!Takuma, who quite literally memorized your entire schedule on accident from how much he watched over you.
obsessedneighbor!Takuma, whose mind would wander during those quiet moments when he’d catch sight of you, once catching a glimpse of you in the skimpiest shorts ever through your window, and hasn’t stopped thinking about it since. It had been so fleeting, just a flash through the window, but it was enough to drive him insane.
The image of you in his mind stretched out in front of him, the curve of your thighs, the delicate arch of your back… it almost haunted him. His attempts to capture the moment in a photo were futile, but he didn’t really need one. His imagination did all the work for him.
obsessedneighbor!Takuma, who has the wildest fantasies planned out in his head. The ones that invaded his mind at night. The ones he couldn’t shake.
He’d imagine you riding him with wild abandon, kissing his neck as you moved on top of him. His hands gripped his cock, trying to keep himself from cumming too quickly as he imagined the sweet praise you’d whisper in his ear. How you’d beg for more.
But Takuma wasn’t just some pervert staring at you from afar. No. He took the next step. He convinced his family to invite yours over for dinner. It was the perfect opportunity to get closer to you. To see you in a different light. Not just as the girl he watched from a distance.
obsessedneighbor!Takuma, who was now sitting across from you at the dinner table, doing his best to play it cool, but every time your gaze flicked in his direction, his heart skipped a beat. You simply had no idea how badly he wanted to reach out and touch you, to pull you into his arms and whisper all the things he’d been thinking about for months.
The conversation flowed casually, Takuma joining in occasionally, but all he could think about was the way you moved, the way your lips parted when you laughed, and how your fingers lightly brushed the edge of your glass. He caught himself staring too long a few times, quickly averting his gaze before you noticed.
obsessedneighbor!Takuma, who couldn’t focus on a single word of the conversation anymore. His thoughts clouded by the overwhelming desire to have you. To touch you. To make his vast fantasies a reality. He couldn’t stop thinking about how he’d follow you around the house all night if it meant getting a moment alone with you.
He’d been waiting for this moment. Now that you were so close, he could hardly control himself.
As dinner went on, Takuma kept glancing at you, wondering if you noticed the seemingly one-sided tension building between you two. When you finally excused yourself to the bathroom, Takuma’s heart raced immediately. He waited for a moment, his breath catching as he realized the opportunity he’d been waiting for had finally arrived.
He stood up quickly and quietly, his movements so sudden that he almost tripped himself, his pulse pounding in his ears as he slipped out of the room. The hallway seemed endless, and his steps were heavy as he approached the bathroom door, barely containing himself as he stood outside.
obsessedneighbor!Takuma, who was now standing on the other side of the bathroom door, silently debating if he should go through with it. His hands trembled slightly as he reached for the handle.
When the door creaked open, your figure caught him by surprise. Standing there, unaware, the soft glow of the hallway light casting shadows over your face. His chest tightened.
“Takuma?…” you asked, surprised.
He didn’t respond right away, his heart hammering as he stepped forward. His hands gently cupped your face. “W-what are you—”
“Tell me to stop,” he snapped, cutting you off. His tone stern and his face way more serious than usual.
You didn’t.
All you could do in that moment was look up at him. Why hadn’t you stopped him? You didn’t know your damn self. Maybe it was the fact that you were already sexually frustrated, but the desire in Takuma’s eyes was unforgiving. It set a fire inside your stomach, heat trickling from your core and up to your cheeks.
Your silent obedience took him by pleasant surprise, slightly hesitant before pulling you in for a kiss that was far more desperate than he had intended. His lips were hungry, demanding, and when you didn’t pull away, Takuma’s hands immediately slid down to your waist, pressing you into him.
He backed you against the cool bathroom wall, his lips leaving yours to trail down your neck, his breathing shallow. “I couldn’t wait anymore,” he murmured, his fingers fumbling to unbutton your blouse, “‘m sorry,” he let out in between kisses.
You didn’t push him away. Instead, you found yourself just as eager, your hands tangling in his long brown hair as you kissed him back once he came up from your neck, deepening the kiss with a hunger of your own that surprised you both.
obsessedneighbor!Takuma, who was now trembling with anticipation, his hands shaking as he undressed you, his breath hot against your skin. “I need you…” he whispered, as if the words alone would somehow make this all feel real.
He thought that he might just lose control at the utter thought of you. The way you smelled. The way your body responded to him. It was enough to make him dizzy.
But just as Takuma was about to lower himself, his hands reaching for the waistband of your pants, you heard something. Footsteps approaching.
You suddenly heard three heavy knocks come from the other side of the door.
You both froze.
“Everything alright in there?” came Nanami’s voice, calm as ever.
obsessedneighbor!Takuma, whose hands remained on you, now hesitating to travel any further. His eyes met yours, wide with realization, but he said nothing. You both stood there for a moment, frozen, before you adjusted yourself hurriedly, trying to maintain some semblance of composure.
“Y-yeah,” you croaked. “…Just a minute!” you called out, barely able to keep your voice steady.
Takuma’s eyes remained on you. The thought of being caught in this moment excited him even further, his cock slowly rising. “Shit,” he whispered, still trying to catch his breath, his heart pounding. His body was still desperate.
“All right, sweetheart. Just checkin’ on ya’.” As the heavy footsteps receded, Takuma exhaled a shaky breath, but the tension between you both hadn’t gone away. His face was washed with a mix of frustration and desire.
You hesitated before speaking, your voice barely a whisper. “Takuma, what the hell…?”
He shook his head, now barely looking at you. “I… I don’t—”
He stopped, his words trailing off as if he was trying to collect himself. All you did was look down, getting a good look at Takuma’s erection, swallowing hard.
He was embarrassed, to say the least.
Was this the plan? Yes. Did he think he’d get this far? Absolutely not.
obsessedneighbor!Takuma, who was now dropping to his knees on your bathroom floor, kissing down your stomach, mouthing “sorry” against your skin even though nothing about this felt remorseful.
His fingertips slipped beneath the waistband of your pants with trembling urgency, peeling them down along with your underwear, his breath already catching in his throat. He looked up at you once, eyes glazed and almost reverent. Like he was about to worship something sacred.
And he did.
He dove in like he was starved, like he’d been dreaming of this exact moment for months (he had), and now that he finally had you in front of him, taste and scent and warmth and all- he wasn’t going to waste a single second.
His tongue flattened against your folds before you could even brace yourself. It was a greedy, slow lick, from bottom to top, as if he needed to memorize every inch of you. You jolted, hand flying to his shoulder for balance, the other threading through his long, brown messy hair.
He moaned into you like he was the one being touched. The sound low and guttural, the vibration sending heat shooting up your spine. His grip on your thighs tightened, thumbs spreading you open further, face buried like he couldn’t get close enough.
“F-fuck, Takuma,” you whispered, breath stuttering.
Your knees buckled a little, and he followed the movement, mouth never leaving you. His nose bumped your clit, then his tongue circled it, slow at first. Torturously slow. Then faster and more focused.
You could tell he did some sort of research by the way he calculated each motion that landed on your pussy.
obsessedneighbor! Takuma, who did, in fact, look up videos of how to make a girl cum a few nights prior.
Each flick of his tongue pulled another breathy sound from your lips. Your back arched against the bathroom wall. His hands gripped your thighs like he was holding himself in place, like if he let go, he’d lose his mind.
But what you didn’t notice at first, what you couldn’t see from above, was his other hand slipping down between his legs.
He unzipped himself with shaking fingers, freeing his cock just enough to wrap his hand around it. The relief was immediate. His palm was already slick with pre cum, and the moment he started moving short, desperate strokes timed with the way his mouth worked between your legs, he knew he wouldn’t last.
Not like this.
Not when you sounded like that.
Not when your fingers were tangled in his hair, tugging him closer. Not when your thighs trembled around his ears.
Your body jerked when he sucked harder at your clit, and Takuma’s hips jolted forward into his hand with a strangled moan.
He was shaking. Fully trembling. And when your head dropped back and you gasped out his name, just once, ragged and breathless, he came.
Right there on the bathroom floor.
His forehead pressed against your stomach as his cock pulsed in his hand, hot and sticky between his fingers, cum spilling across his knuckles in messy spurts. You followed suit shortly after, Takuma continuing to lick you through it, cumming in his mouth as he didn’t let a single drop get wasted. It was like his orgasm only made him hungrier. Like he could stay there forever if he could.
By the time he pulled away, his face was flushed, lips swollen and chin wet. His breathing was ragged. He looked up at you- dazed. And more pussydrunk than he could’ve imagined.
You both just stood there for a few seconds, languor as the shared heaving from your orgasms slowed down eventually. The bathroom lit soft and quiet, and the sound of silverware faintly clinking in the background from the dining room.
obsessedneighbor!Takuma, who was now sitting across from you at the dinner table, head slightly bowed, hands tucked safely in his lap, face still flushed with something he hoped didn’t look as obvious as it felt.
He hadn’t spoken a word since you both returned.
Neither had you.
But you could feel his eyes on you. Sneaking glances when Nanami wasn’t looking. Watching the way you lifted your glass, the way your lips pressed against the rim, the way your leg bounced faintly beneath the table like your body hadn’t fully recovered from what just happened.
You could barely even bring yourself to look at him, really.
Not because you didn’t want to, but because you knew if you did, you’d remember too clearly the way he looked on his knees. The mess on his hand. The fact that you were still sore, sensitive and wet.
You stabbed a piece of food with your fork a little too hard.
Across the table, Takuma cleared his throat softly and reached for his water. You watched, from the corner of your eye, the way his fingers gripped the glass. His knuckles were still slightly pink from scrubbing them too hard in the bathroom. You smiled to yourself.
And then, your foot brushed his under the table.
Just a small nudge. Accidental. But he flinched like you’d shocked him.
You finally looked up.
He was already staring.
His lips parted slightly, and his gaze dropped to your mouth. You shifted in your seat, biting the inside of your cheek.
Nanami sighed contently beside you. “Nice to have a quiet dinner once in a while.”
You almost laughed.
obsessedneighbor!Takuma, who had your taste still on his tongue and the way you moaned his name echoing in his head, nodded politely.
“Mhm,” he replied, voice slightly hoarse. “Real… peaceful.”
You didn’t say a word. But under the table, your foot pressed against his again. This time on purpose.
Prompt: “would you still date me if…”
Incl: gojo, suguru, nanami, toji, sukuna, choso, takuma
Cont: established relationship, fluff, suggestiveness, crack, love-sick delusion
a/n: My apologies for any awkward spacing or wording or anything. This is my first smau!!! + I was a bit nervous writing sukunas because like… i’m not used to writing out a dynamic like that whatsoever, but pls pls PLSSS do give me feedback! <3
you’ll usually find me baking up cute ideas, little drabbles, or, more frequently, spicy dishes!~
i love:
🍰 every & anything sweet
🎧 music!! polyjamorous & proud
🎮 video games
my blog will contain:
fluff, slow burns, smut, angst, pwp (porn with plot truther!!!!), + more in the near future
╰(*´︶`*)╯♡
psst… i mainly write for Jujutsu Kaisen! it’s rare for me to venture into other fandoms, but i’ll always indulge in my faves: kpop, love & deep space, cod, etc *・ (〃ω〃)
i try to keep this space peaceful, kind, and full of heart. whether you’re here to read, request, or just vibe, you’re always welcome at my table!
ε❤︎︭з⠀⠀1. My audience is mainly intended towards fem readers; however, I do have, & in the future will, write drabbles considered to be gender-neutral. anyone can read as long as your respectful of course. I try to be as inclusive as possible yk
ε❤︎︭з⠀⠀2. Similar to my previous point about inclusivity, i try not to include super-specific details when writing about the reader. no name, no race, no body type unless it’s relevant or fun for the scenario. that said, I might describe outfits or styling like hair/clothing in a way that leans a certain direction. i try to keep it adaptable where possible
ε❤︎︭з. 3. no racism, transphobia, fetishization of identities, or anything creepy like incest, pedophilia, etc. it is a possibility i might explore dark content with consent, but I tag everything accordingly. if I ever mess up, feel free to let me know politely
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.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Cw 𝜗𝜚 Stalking, Obsessiveness, Controlling Behaviour, Love Bombing, Afab, Murder, Fluff, Kidnapping, God Complex, Smut, Toxic Sukuna, Yandere Sukuna? Readers a Sweetie pie (Touch her you die… like actually…) Stockholm Syndrome, Manipulation, Pathetic Sukuna
Summary 𝜗𝜚 You’ve already infested Sukunas' mind, you're like a parasite, infesting every inch of his body. His brain, his heart, his soul, everything. You’re infecting him. Why? Who are you and What's your deal?
FUCK ICE, free palestine, free congo, FUCK trump, FUCK musk, no one is illegal on stolen land, and if u disagree, FUCK YOU TOO!!!
i’ve said this before but if u support that fuckass orange in office, idc if ur a silent follower or ur like is ur only form of interacting with me, just know, i don’t want it!!! and u are a terrible person!!! 😛
