Jungkook ⟡ Be Jacket Making Film

chubby darling sitting and rambling abt anatomy and how insane the human body is, literally talking so animatedly while her obsessor is just sitting there like ‘oh i’m gonna fuck her so hard once she shuts the fuck up’

my picks; EREN, jean, erwin, ymir, PORCO (aot), aizawa, DABI, mature tomura, momo, katsuki(?), izuku, mr compress, spinner, HAWKS, miruko (mha), ushijima, IWAZUMI, KUROO, kageyama, tsukkishima, aone (haikyuu), GOJO FUCKING SATORU, toji, nanami(?), miguel, i rly wanna say megumi, maki, heian sukuna, TODO AOI, and fuck it inumaki too (jjk), ROANOA ZORO, robin, sanji, sir croc, FUCKING LAW HED GEEK W YOU, uhhh luffy, kidd, penguin, coby (op) WHITNEY, c.sydney, alex, avery(?? iffy), rrrrobin?? (dol), plus all ur favorites <3

who knew all took to save anime was autistic protagonists with weirdly specific hyperfixations (thank you laois dunmeshi, frieren, and maomao apothecary diaries)

᭄⁑　txt as yanderes | thoughts

warnings: yandere, noncon, baby trapping, mention of knife play, slapping, perversion, not proofread

yandere!jjun is the type to be too sweet, sickly sweet. like barfed cupcakes and sprinkles, he pretends to care, he love bombs, he kisses you like he truly loves you, like there’s no one else but you and maybe its true, maybe there is no one else but you in his eyes. but its not romantic. not when he has blood on his hands, figuratively or literally, he’s responsible for innocents lost.

“i didn’t lay a single hand on them, how many times do i have to tell you! doll, baby, believe me. please.” his voice cracks, like he’s about to cry. you scoff and turn your head to the side, disgusted, feeling like you could very much vomit right now.

“stop fucking calling me these—these words!”

yandere!jjun, the type to crumble to his knees and beg, holding onto your leg like an abandoned puppy despite having much more power than you, both in strength and status. lips trembling, eyes wide and crazed, full of pitiful tears, giving you a false reality, sense of hope that he isn’t that much more powerful than you could even imagine.

now yandere!soobin on the other hand is the type you don’t even realize is mentally out of it, not until you’re literally two years into a relationship with him with a stable history of 7+ year of friendship. he’s been jealous here and there, one instance of him breaking down over you having coffee with a male colleague that you had to craddle him, rocking back and forth as he sobs and hiccups— that keeps you up at night sometimes, but he’s so convincing you don’t even notice how often he manipulates and gaslights and manipulates. the way he slithers his long arms around your waist, pressing your bodies flush, holding you tight, whispering random “love you’s”, you almost completely forget. almost.

when yan!soobin’s fucking you senseless, lost in pleasure, tongue out dumb like the horndog he is, you manage to warn him again, “b-baby, not on—hah birth control”

don’t cum inside. don’t cum inside. you told him that before you got too into it, and he agreed, he promised he won’t. of course he won’t.

so why’s he shaking his head? why’s he refusing now? your eyes widen a little, trying to push him but he leans to kiss you, drowning out your protests, turning them to mere mewls. “baby—wanna—wanna make you have babies..”

the alarm bells ring again. and again. and suddenly you remember the few warnings from your friends, the offhanded comments about how he’s a little off, a little weird, that he seems obsessed.

“you won’t leave me when you have my babies, you can’t—” suckling on your nipples through your shirt as if to prove a point, he wets it completely, making it see through with his spit. you feel gross. you feel—“can’t leave me,” he says one last time, moans straining as he empties his load in you. a generous load.

yandere!beomgyu is my favorite in the most deranged way possible. he’s not too sweet, he’s not the meanest, and he isn’t the most pathetic, but he’s definitely the craziest. beomgyu would be the one to go as far as to lock you in his home, keep you chained, bondaged—he’s fucking insane. the type to be into knife play as well, he loves the switch in power dynamic. instead of the past bossy, in control at all times y/n and her pretty lanky best friend who’s probably “head over heels” for her, it’s you on your knees, cold hard wood, getting your throat brutally abused like his personal sex doll.

he loves finally being the one in control. he’s so addicted. sometimes it feels like he’s only inflicting his craziest perverted dreams on you, and you were just his nearest victim, but oh no, out of the five, he’s definitely the most ‘in love’.

“let me out…beomgyu…please.”

his back is pressed against the bedroom’s door, listening in to your sobs that barely transcend the sound proof walls. he sighs, frusteningly running a hand through his hair.

“why—why don’t you love me?”

and suddenly its silent on your part, the sobs not reaching his ears anymore. its enough to cause more cracks in his heart, making him undeniably more bitter but god forbid he gives up on it—on making you love him back, he’ll risk everything for it.

yandere!taehyun is the most cruel but he’d also be considered the least delusional and the most delusional at the same time. he knows you won’t love him back, he could care less (well…debatable actually), it’s about protecting you at the end of the day. that’s where the delusion comes in, he thinks he’s your white knight and you’re only acting out like you’ve always been. stubborn and hard headed. when it comes to the sex, this man has you at all times legs spread up, with your hand restricted, supplying your pussy like a free breed whore. other than the humiliating position, he makes sure you’re aware at all times of what you are to him.

his saliva and cum covering your body like filth, using you like a rag, truly. he’s the type to slap when you act out—a strike against your face, pussy, tits, he’d do it all. and yet he still wholeheartedly believes he’s protecting you from the world that “corrupted” you.

yandere!hyuka is beyond pathetic but you’ll never know because he doesn’t act on his desires. well, in the sense that he doesn’t scratch the eyes out of every one of your boyfriends and doesn’t have you tied to him at all times—he’s the pussy type. in the dark, following, each and every step. that was the beginning. then it was jerking off on your balcony peeking between the blinds as he watches you undress. then it was stealing panties, sniffing, licking, as his hands go manic on his poor dick—it hurts, it’s dry but he keeps going, because he is so fucking addicted he doesnt wanna stop. whining n’ squeaking as he lets out your name out of his mouth over and over and over again.

your scent when he hugs you drives him mad, when you kiss his cheeks he embarrassingly spots a boner, he’s just pathetic with horrible horrible dirty thoughts in his head.

Aghhhhhhhhhhhhh I just fell to my knees

🤜🏻👊🏻 mahoraga help me

Say something!🏩

Yandere! Bully! Megumi x Chubby! Mute! Reader

Warnings: bullying, dub con!!, creampies, public sex

You had selective mutism, which the doctors who had diagnosed you described as the inability to speak in most situations mainly due to social anxiety, despite your ability to speak normally in places like home. After moving to Tokyo for your junior year your mother had asked her close friend’s son to take care of you and help you at school.

Bully!Megumi was shocked when he met you for the first time. You were so curvy, with big breast and chubby thighs that stole his attention immediately. As your parents caught up he stared at you from the side of his eyes watching as you avoided his gaze like the plague. And in that moment he knew you would be nothing but a burden.

In front of your mother Megumi was a polite and well mannered man but when you were alone he was mean, rough, and cruel. Dragging you around and spitting insults and snarky remarks at you any chance he could get.

It had been a year since then and now as seniors you had grown extremely close. There wasn’t much time in the day where you weren’t glued to his side, following him around like some stupid puppy. It annoyed him so much.

In a empty classroom you stood against the wall leaning forward against his chest. His pale hand was between your thighs as the two fingers he had stuffed in your pussy fucked you roughly. “Just cum already or someone’s gonna come and see you.” His tone was annoyed as he watched your expressions closely. “And if you squirt again you’re getting pregnant as punishment.” Megumi watched as you clenched your thighs tightly, grabbing his strong forearm with your small hands as you came. You couldn’t help it as you started to squirt making a mess on the floor.

“Too bad, looks like you squirted again” his annoyed and disgusted face made you feel so embarrassed and small. You hated him for making you feel so stupid. “Oh well, You’re the one that’s cleaning this up later, now show me your ass.”

Facing the wall you bit your lip while he pulled your panties down and lined his cock up with your wetness. He fucked you roughly, insulting you the whole time until he pumped you full of his cum. When he was done You fell to your knees weakly as he stuffed his big dick back in his pants. “Keep all of it inside of you.” But some of his cum had already started dripping down your thigh. He grabbed your arm roughly forcing you to get up.“Now let’s go.” The train ride home was quiet with you right beside him like always. Megumi was deep in his thoughts. You guys would be graduating soon and he couldn’t help but dread what life would be without you. Your mom had already told him you would be taking your college courses at home but he couldn’t help but want you to stay side by side.

Bully!megumi would drag you into empty alleyways to touch your soft body. Muttering things like about how “Your boobs have gotten bigger this year.” And how “It’s probably because you eat so much and never work out.” You would whimper in his grasp trying not to overreact. His big hands fondled your breast through your shirt making your nipple slip out your bra. You felt his hard dick pressing against your tummy and shut your eyes tightly.

He would make you get on your knees in the ally and put his hard dick right in your face. “If you don’t say anything I’m gonna fuck you till you faint again.” With his big hand holding the top of your head he would lay his dick on your face. But you never said anything. He would fuck your face until you were coughing up his cum when he was done. He would snatch you up when he was finished to drag you to a hotel.

In the hotel rooms he would take out all his pent up emotions on you, fucking you with the anger he felt towards you for making him feel so many things around you. He would grab the back of your dainty neck as he pumped you full of his dick. “You could atleast tell me when it feels good!” You cried loudly moaning from his thrust. “Atleast try you cow!” He would growl pulling your hair.

After nutting in you he would pull out his dick that would always stay hard. You were just too sexy. “It’s your fault for never saying anything. If you want it to stop you can just say it.” He was so cruel. You still didn’t speak so he laid you flat on your tummy stuffing his dick back in u. “Say something already! I can’t tell what you’re thinking if you don’t!” He nutted in you again.

When graduation came he was colder than normal. On the train home he stood beside you scrolling on his phone nonchalantly. “It’s finally over, you won’t have to be with me all the time anymore , you can make it home alone right?”. That day Megumi went home feeling angry and hurt. Even after that all that time you hadn’t once spoke to him. Even after you fucked so many times, even though he knew every inch of your body and you knew his the same you didn’t care. You didn’t even look fazed that you wouldn’t be together anymore. Later that day as Megumi cleared his book bag he found a little note inside. When he read it he couldn’t help the way his heart raced in his chest. It was from you.

—-

It had been a year and Megumi went through college by himself, not making any friends or connections. He hated school but each time he made it home to his apartment he felt a happy and fuzzy feeling in his chest. He would open the door and walk in and see you sitting at the table on your computer with your big glasses on your cute face. You would look up at him with your pretty eyes and your cheeks would turn pink. Your voice was quiet and weak but you always greeted him.

“W-welcome home M-Megumi-kun.”

I feel like a virgin when I search up “x Reader” with a new character I like

the hand is williams ❤️ click for full res

"give me another"

satoru can't handle another. he's cum so many times that he's sobbing, his legs are shaking so much that you're almost concerned. you've been riding him for hours now, milking his dick over and over again: being filled up and fucked out and somehow managing to maintain the upper hand.

your boyfriends so weak, though, that he probably couldn't flip you over and fuck you if he tried. but he's got the strength to beg, so beg he will.

"please, baby, i can take another orgasm. i'll be okay."

"you'll pass out."

"and you are well within your rights to keep fucking me if i do!"

you slow the roll of your hips gradually, as to not deny him completely. he's looking at you with these blown out eyes, pooling with tears and lust and love beyond romance. it's spiritual. or he's just really cum drunk.

"alright," you lean down and press a kiss to the tip of his nose. "i'll make you a deal: i'll stay still and if you can thrust up enough to make yourself cum, so be it."

"cardio?" satoru whines.

"problem? i can pull off and we can-"

you're jolted by a sudden harsh thrust upwards. satoru bullies his cock deep into you, enough to force the air from your lungs.

"no problem," he grins. "i love cardio."

Finally the sequel to “I miss my wife William!” Now with COLOR!! :D🌈✨

Honestly this one was SUCH a blast to make! 🤣 And I hope y’all enjoy this one as much I did! 🤗❤️

exhibit #3 - stepcest.

an installment of the freak shit march gallery showcase.

pairing: yandere!toji x reader (jjk).

length: 3.0k.

warnings: non/con, fem!reader, step!dad + step!daughter, manipulation, mentions of death, mentions of grief, age gap (toji is in his mid 40s, reader is in her early 20s), long-term stalking, rampant daddy kinks, and slight infantalization. dead dove: do not eat.

Your plane landed about two hours before the funeral. By the time you got to the house (a tucked away two-story built for recluses and retirees), Toji was waiting for you in the driveway, already half-dressed in a pair of suit pants and a plain white button-up – leftover from a wedding or one of your mother’s work parties, you were sure. There was a fifty-dollar bill crumbled messily in his hand, and he palmed it to the cab driver after helping you out of the backseat and hauling your lone, malnourished suitcase out of the trunk. Another day, you might’ve tried to stop him, to insist on taking care of yourself, but you weren’t really in a place to take care of much of anything, at the moment.

You waited in silence for the cab to pull out, disappearing down the greenery-crowded backroad that led into town. When the vehicle was finally out of sight, you took a deep breath, shut your eyes, and collapsed into Toji’s chest.

His arms were around you in a heartbeat. You went boneless against him – exhausted from the news, the sobbing, the flight. If you hadn’t been so tired, you might’ve been able to greet him, to say you were sorry, to recognize that he was in mourning too, but you were tired, and you were sad, and it was all you could do to mutter distantly into his shoulder. “It just feels so…”

“I know, kid, I know.” He squeezed you against him, the same way he had the first time you’d failed a class, or after you’d heard your mother planned to sell your childhood home. It was the good, bone-crushing kind of hug, the type that flattened your lungs and made you feel safe. It was the kind of hug you’d only ever gotten from Toji. “It’s a lot to take in.”

“And you’re sure the ceremony is—”

“All taken care of.” He laughed airily. “We should get you dressed. I tried to lay out everything that still fits, but it’s gonna take some trial and error.”

His hold loosened, but didn’t fall away. You stayed where you were. “If we’re early, do you think I’ll be able to get a few minutes alone with her?”

He sighed, then kissed the top of your head. “It doesn’t matter what time we get there, princess. If anyone tries to stop you, I’ll deal with them.”

You sniffled, but straightened, determined to take consolidation where you could. Toji slung your suitcase over his shoulder and, taking your hand, led you inside.

~

You weren’t early. Toji had to help with your dress – your hands were shaking too badly to slot the buttons into place. You thought, briefly, about make-up, but you hadn’t remembered to pack any, and the only stock in the house would’ve been hers. Instead, you kept your head bowed and your eyes on the floor as you waded through rarely-seen friends and distant relatives, as faces you only just barely recognized recited hollow platitudes about how wonderful your mother was, how much they’d miss the light she’d brought into their lives, how fortunate you’d been to grow up with such a sparkling presence in your life. The business trips, the boarding schools, the screaming matches – those remained unmentioned, unthought of. It was the cruelest thing they could’ve put you through, and it was the most merciful they possibly could’ve been. It was terrible beyond description, and it was the best you could’ve hoped for.

Toji was at your side all the while, only occasionally stepping away to grab yet another box of tissues or a fresh bottle of water. He guarded the doors during your private visitation, and when you left a few minutes into the ceremony to vomit, he held your hair back without a word of complaint. His own estranged children – Megumi and Tsumiki – made an appearance. Neither spoke to you, but Tsumiki hugged you close and Megumi rested a hand on your shoulder. Their sympathy was hollow, but welcomed. What they’d gone through was different, easier. They’d lost both their mothers as children, when they were too young to really know what that meant, but you appreciated the sentiment.

There wasn’t a burial. Cremation had been in the will, added only a few months before the accident. It wasn’t your place to complain, but you wished she would’ve talked to you about it. Even a hole in the ground would’ve been more comforting than knowing you’d have to pick up a cold piece of porcelain containing what was left of your mother some time next week. Toji promised he’d take care of it as he drove you back home, and you couldn’t find it in yourself to argue.

Left to your own devices, you wandered the house. It’d been less than seventy-two hours since the accident, but already, the house seemed colder, emptier. Too many doors were shut rather than left ajar, too many counters clean rather than cluttered, too many blankets folded instead of absentmindedly thrown into a heap – the way your mother would always leave them when she got up. You tried to brave her bedroom, to find the sweater she’d been attempting to crochet for as long as you could remember, but you couldn’t make it farther than the doorway.

Toji caught you on the staircase. He stood at the bottom, arms crossed and back against the banister. As you neared the end of your descent, he sighed. “Any big plans, kid?”

You tried to smile, but it fell away quickly. “I think I might turn in early. I’m pretty tired from the—” You paused, swallowing. “—from everything.”

He hummed, letting his eyes fall to your feel. Abruptly, you realized that you hadn’t taken off your dress after the funeral. Or your jacket. Or your shoes.

“Yeah.” He straightened, pushing himself onto his feet. “That’s not going to happen. Change, get your ass on the couch, and put on a movie. I’m ordering take-out.”

He didn’t want you to be alone. You might’ve felt a little warmer, if you’d been able to feel anything at all. “I’m fine, I promise. You don’t have to babysit me.”

“And listen to you cry yourself to sleep?” He let out a breath of a laugh. “Ass. Couch. Now. I’ll be there in fifteen.”

It didn’t seem like he ‘no’ for an answer. Reluctantly, you shuffled past him and did as you were told – throwing on a pair of shorts and oversized shirt you hadn’t worn since your sophomore year of college. The living room seemed too big, too foreboding, so you stowed yourself away in the garage, your mother’s makeshift movie room. An unmemorable romcom was chosen out of a catalogue of identical titles with no particular sense of favoritism, but your mind began to wonder as soon as the opening credits started to play.

Toji was a good guy. Really, he was. You had to remind yourself of that from time to time, when something made you think of the bank-vault full of handguns he kept in the guestroom or your mother complained about how vague he was about his high-paying occupation, and you hadn’t always thought so – fuck, when she first brought home a man nearly fifteen years her junior with the build of a hitman and scars to match, you’d called her insane and insisted that, if they ever got married, you’d never speak to her again. You’d figured he was a scam artist, but a conman wouldn’t get up an hour before sunrise to make breakfast for their mark every day without fail, or volunteer for the droning domesticity of weekly laundry and vacuuming, or hide enough cash to cover the first three months of rent in their girlfriend’s daughter’s suitcase when she finally moved out.

You doubted he really loved your mom, but you doubted she’d ever really loved him, either. Toji was good for her, a steady hand to balance out her rashness, a beating heart to keep your home alive whenever her impulsivity led her elsewhere. When they did eventually get married in a small, unglamourous courtroom ceremony, you’d even acted as their witness. He was good to her, and she was happy. That was all that really mattered, you guessed.

When Toji came back, he was carrying a large paper bag printed with the logo of your favorite restaurant – ordered before your conversation, most likely. He pretended not to watch you as you ate, the action mechanical and joyless. You didn’t have much of an appetite, but you didn’t want to seem ungrateful.

The romcom had only passed the half-way mark by the time you tuned back in; the point where your protagonists began to lull into a false sense of security before their lives came crashing down around them. You would’ve expected Toji to leave after making sure you’d gotten something to eat, but instead, he sat stiffly next to you, half buried by your mound of blankets as you stretched your legs across his lap. The hero was delivering his nth poorly written monologue – something about family or belonging, it was hard to tell. As the actor struggled to cry on demand, Toji rested a hand on your knee.

As the heroine stormed out of his apartment and into the melodramatic rainstorm waiting outside, his touch wandered, skirting over your bare thigh.

As she ducked under the canopy of a brightly lit café, pulling out her phone to call her estranged parents for the very first time in five years, his hand slipped under your shorts and settled over your cunt.

Your immediate thought was, embarrassingly, that it had to be an accident. You weren’t sure how it could be, but the logistics didn’t matter – it had to be an accident. The stiff shape pressing into the underside of your calf was a nonfactor, static cast over your conscious mind. You wanted to get up, to take a hot shower, to lock yourself in your room, but your body wouldn’t move. Couldn’t move. That’d get his attention, and he’d realize what he was doing, and—

The heroine sobbed and threw her phone in the overflowing gutter, her reconciliation having ended messily. At the same time, two of Toji’s fingers slipped underneath your panties, tracing the length of your slit before pushing a quick circle into your clit. That was it. You scrambled off of the couch, your foot catching on a cushion and leaving you shambling and crumpled on the floor. You tried to pick yourself up, but you weren’t fast enough. Toji was already shifting, already leaning down, already taking you by either side. A little too easily, he hauled you back onto the sofa and threw your back against the armrest, the impact forceful enough to bruise the base of your spine. You cringed, but he only laughed, letting his hands fall to your hips and squeezing. “Where do you think you’re going, kid?”

“I wasn’t—” A knee was forced between your thighs, nudging them apart. Toji was quick to fill the empty space. “It’s—Uh, it’s kind of funny, actually. I thought I felt something touch my leg, and—”

“Mhm. Just like how I used to find you rooting around in my stuff because you thought it belonged to the old hag.” You winced. That’d been early on – when you were still too suspicious to let your guard down and too naïve to be subtle about it. You’d assumed he would’ve forgotten about that, by now. “Have anything else you want to get off your chest? Go ahead – Daddy’s here to listen.”

Disgust pricked at the back of your throat, bitter and acidic. It must’ve shown through to your expression - Toji smirked as he hooked a thumb underneath the waistband of your shorts, dragging them down to your knees. Your hands shot out on reflex, grappling for what was already lost, but Toji only clicked his tongue and bowed his head, his tongue drawing a wet stripe over the seat of your panties. In the end, it was all you could do to tangle your fingers in his hair and shut your eyes, as if drawing him closer had ever done you any good.

The sound was the worst part. Messy and indulgent, the soft click of saliva against skin and Toji’s airy groans as he buried his face between your thighs. He traced the shape of your cunt through your panties, only occasionally pausing to grind the fabric into your clit, to draw the meekest possible ‘no’ or ‘stop’ out of you. His hands fell to your thighs, forcing them over his broad shoulders and letting him pin you down that much more efficiently. Your body suddenly felt smaller than it had in years, as fragile and as helpless as the morning you’d first woken up with a strange, gigantic man in your home only to be told that the person you loved most in the world invited him in. It was hard to believe you’d ever trusted him, that you’d ever been stupid enough to trust anyone. You’d been in danger from the moment you decided you were safe.

You only realized you were crying when your vision blurred, when you felt the first tear drip onto your chest. Awareness accompanied revulsion as you felt your body start to react, your thighs going rigid as something other than Toji’s spit started to dampen the fabric of your panties. Arousal wasn’t really the right description. Fear-induced hysteria would’ve been a better fit, or a latent survival instinct you would’ve preferred to live without. Either way, Toji chuckled as he pulled back, dragging your panties to the side and thrusting his tongue into your now-sopping cunt. You felt him curl and flex, causing friction where stretch wasn’t possible. You let out a miserable sob, digging your nails into his scalp, trying to pull him away. In response, Toji only nuzzled closer, grinding the bridge of his nose into your clit.

Your orgasm was humiliatingly swift. You’d never really had time to date, not between work and school, and there was only so much that masturbation could prepare you for. You weren’t used to it – the heat, the slickness, the pressure of something splitting you open from the inside out – and it was all happening too quickly, too mercilessly to stave off. Your hands fell away from his head, darting up to cover your face as you came into his mouth. Rather than warmth, a cold dread filled you in-tandem with your climax, the knowledge that’d you’d just done something terribly, terribly. He was your mother’s husband, for fuck’s sake. He was your—

Your mind went blank before you could make the full connection, two wires disconnecting before the unthinkable could be communicated. You imagined black clothes and cardboard tissue boxes and coffins, and convinced yourself that nothing else had ever crossed your mind.

Toji wasn’t as introspective. He pulled back with a jarring sort of rush, then just hastily, shoved his mouth against yours. You could taste yourself on his lips, on his tongue as he all-but forced it down your throat. By the time he let you breathe, he was panting.

“Been waiting years for that.” He picked himself up, calling against the back of the couch. You stared blankly at the ceiling. “Since the first time I heard you fucking yourself on those pathetic little fingers. You know how thin those walls were, right? You were probably trying to get caught – needy little brat.”

You didn’t say anything. You couldn’t. Something vital to you had curled up and died in your throat minutes ago, and now, it was all you could do to try and suck in air around it. Toji’s gaze flickered over you, then he laughed. “C’mon, now, don’t play shy. You had to know.”

The words weren’t yours. They belonged to someone else, someone in another body. “You married my mom.”

“Jealous little brat, too.” You felt his arms around you, drawing you upward. Your body was stiff, uncooperative, but Toji was patient – carefully positioning you to straddle his lap, resting your hands on his shoulders and planting his own on your waist. His eyes were softened, half-lidded, his smile lopsided – weighed down by affection. If you didn’t know better, you might’ve mistaken him for genuinely lovestruck. “I had to. She never would’ve let me stick around if I didn’t, and—” He paused, squeezed your side. “I wasn’t going to give you up. Not when we were just starting to get to know each other.”

That wasn’t true. He’d already been living with you for years by the time they’d gotten married. You liked him enough not to tell your mom when you caught him smoking on the front porch or not using coasters, and he liked you enough to invite you out on his long, late-night drives and do your laundry with—

Oh, god.

He’d been doing your laundry.

Your voice was soft, almost inaudibly so. It took everything you had just to get your lips to move. “…can I go, now?”

“Not just yet.” A hand slipped between your body and his, dipping below his sweatpants. His cock – flushed and veined and monstrously thick – was pulled free, allowed to press into your stomach. Weakly, you tried to draw back, but Toji held you still, taking himself by the base and pumping once, twice. “I had to call in a lot of favors to make that accident happen, y’know. It’d be nice if you could show me a little love.”

The shock was cold, numbing. Toji guided you onto your knees, positioning the head of his cock against your entrance. Slowly, delicately, he dragged you down, lowering you inch by agonizing inch until your hips were slotted against his. He started to let his head roll back before thinking better of it and pulling you closer – burying his face in the crook of your neck.

You blinked. His cock twitched inside of you, and it was all you could do to melt, to rest your forehead against him and let your body go slack in his embrace. “Toj—”

“You know that’s not right, pretty girl.” His hips rolled against yours, drawing a pitiful whine from your lips. “Tell me who takes care of you.”

“D-Daddy.” And then, sniffling into his chest. “I’m really scared.”

“I know, baby, I know.”

It might’ve been easier to believe, if you hadn’t been able to feel his grin biting into your throat.

“That’s what you’ve got your daddy for, right?”