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ccrites · 2 months

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chokehold

listen, I've had this idea in my wips for a while (since the begnining of the year actually) and the fat reader worms have been wiggling in third gear with all the awesome stuff early ( @391780 ) has been putting out lately. So have 6.4k words of Soap being an absolute pussy eating freak but you know you love him

(also on ao3 if you prefer the formatting there, or if you want to drop a kudo)

The second the doors swing back closed behind you, you start feeling the scratchy feeling of doubt at the back of your throat.

It was predictable, really.

A small gym in a small town, heads turn when the hinges creak, not because they’re staring at you specifically, but because it’s a reflex.

Or at least, that’s what you tell yourself to keep the scratchy feeling from turning sour in your mouth. Or make you throw up from embarrassment.

Perhaps your New Year’s resolution should’ve been to start on a home gym type of situation. Buy yourself some girly weights, a mat, and some sort of stepping device, and do those easy exercises every slim, pretty, high-ponytailed YouTube instructor seemed to preconize people out of shape do. Like a hamster on a wheel inside their cage. A rat chasing its own tail, maybe.

No, you promised yourself no more fake promises. Perhaps the money spent on the gym membership (stupid fucking New Year’s promotion) would motivate you to use it, lest it’s just money down the drain.

You wore the stretchiest, thickest pair of black leggings you owned, hoping no one would see the terrible shape of your underwear through it. On the opposite spectrum of things, you knew the largest hoodie you owned would smother you and make you boil with sweat, so you chose the next best thing: the widest black t-shirt you owned. It was definitely not black enough, the dye faded into a dark gray from use over the years, but it was the only thing that camouflaged your body enough from the others’ sight. God forbid they imagine what your body actually looks like underneath.

The heads pretty quickly turned back around as you started walking towards the empty treadmills. It couldn’t have been more than a second, but the combined weight of at least a dozen pairs of scrutinizing eyes would’ve been enough to make you turn on your heels and back to your car, fuck the membership price.

At the very least, you could convince yourself that walking in place (no better than a hamster on its wheel but oh well) would be enough to get you started. Baby steps, and all.

It doesn’t take long for you to realize the treadmill fucking sucks. Why would anyone suggest looking at a parking lot while suffering instead of the pretty scenery of a park or forest (while also suffering, but still).

The timer you’d set for the warm-up (ten minutes, just like the pretty blonde coach suggested!) crawls by way too slowly for your taste. You’d be all but whooping with joy when it beeps if you weren’t so out of breath and conscious of a gaze on you.

You’d seen him as soon as you walked in.

Between figures of balding men trying to get rid of their beer gut with abs, two thin women whispering to themselves in a corner while trying to look inconspicuous, and a few other, completely average-looking men and women, there he stands, eyes meeting yours in the mirror as he deadlifts an impressive amount of black plates.

He immediately looks straight ahead, correcting his stance, as if there were anything to be corrected, in your unathletic opinion. The muscles in his arms bulge even through the thin, grey hoodie, and the ones in his legs coil tight as the weight is lifted off the ground in a slow, controlled motion. Not even a grunt escapes his lips, at least no one you could hear from where you stood, completely mesmerized.

There was always something almost unappealing about overly muscled men. Their wife’s not feedin’ ‘em enough, your granny would grumble when passing by the rows of magazines at the checkout of the supermarket.

Yet this man.

Yeah, he was muscled. But in a way, he looked… almost normal. Like he was built for strength, not necessarily vanity. Each bend of his legs, each twist of his arms…

You’d swoon if you hadn’t lowered your standards so low he’d trip on them. Accepted it a long time ago. Fats belong with fats, thins with thins, and if there’s a thin with a fat, either one’s getting fattened up, or the other’s getting dumped. It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy, and one you’d rather not be a part of.

You walk with shaky legs to the water dispenser, then get ready to grab the second to lightest weights to try some bicep curls.

You try to remember the positioning from the videos. Rotate in… or out? Should the wrists be like this? You go through ten repetitions on each side, before you think that you should’ve gone for the abs straight away. God knows there’s fat to burn there, and that the flab under your arms can wait.

You turn back from the rack and walk straight into a wall.

No, a chest.

Fuck.

“Sorry there, miss,” says a deep voice. You detect some sort of accent, unable to quite place it right away.

Your eyes run up, instinctively stopping for a second at chest level (holy heavens that’s a Chest with a capital C if you’ve ever seen one) before finally meeting that same pair of eyes you met a few minutes ago, through the mirror.

Double fuck.

“S-sorry, it’s me, wasn’t watching,” you stammer out, gesturing to the weights in a panicked way. “Just, y’know, switching exercises,” you sputter with a nervous laugh, like it was a completely normal thing to switch exercises after one rep.

He chuckles, and you really need to start planning your escape, because holy shit the way his pectorals rise and fall as his chest puffs up is getting a bit too much for your poor little humiliated self to handle, but he doesn’t let you as he speaks in a soft tone.

“I’m getting arms aren’t really your thing, eh?” he asks, not unkindly. Gosh, did it have to be a Scottish accent?

You can’t meet his eyes, they’re too blue, too piercing for your liking. “To be fair I don’t know what’s my thing yet, I’m just starting out, y’know?” you shift your weight on your legs, conscious of the size difference, and not in the way you wanted to be. Your neck is very warm all of a sudden.

He laughs again, like it’s the funniest thing in the world, and you almost want the floor to open up and swallow you whole, but the words that come out of his mouth are completely unexpected.

“Figured! A girl with thighs like yours, I’m sure you can deadlift more than me with just a lil’ training. I’m Johnny, by the way,” he adds in passing, as if offering his name is the least of his concerns. “You ever got someone to train you?”

You’re entirely unsure if you’re dreaming or not. Did this Scottish hunk of muscle really just offer to be your personal trainer?

“Never - uh… lifted anything, I guess. Just when moving, my couch and bed and all, but I had a friend help me.” You definitely feel like you’re oversharing and you’re struggling to ignore the weight of the gaze of the two thin women, burning through you as they whisper among themselves, when you realize you hadn't answered the second part. “Oh and, uh– no. I’ve never… trained. Been trained. It’s my first time in a gym since- a while. I don’t want to bother you.”

You finally look up at him, and you’re unable to read his expression. There’s a sort of curiosity, a fascination, that blends fast into a wide-eyed joy that’s so open, so sincere that it makes your head spin as he gently but firmly grabs your wrist and pulls you where his bar stands on the thick mat, ignoring your sputtering protests. “Not a bother at all, lass!” He lets go of you as he bends down and effortlessly racks the barbell, starting to remove plates as he continues. “We can start by measuring your max lift, then the one where you can easily do three reps, then we’ll hike it up till failure, so I can calculate your starting training weight!” he rambles on excitedly. You nervously shift on your feet, conscious of more curious gazes on you, but then he’s back in your bubble, pulling your attention towards him like a magnet.

His smile is like a blazing sun, and you don’t have the heart to tell him to prepare for disappointment.

He’s infinitely patient as he shows you how to place your feet, and the angle of your hips (oh, how you feel your knee weaken at the feel of his light tough through the leggings, nothing short of electrifying, despite being perfectly friendly), the hold on the bar. It’s all a blur till you find yourself bent over in front of him, looking in the mirror at your position and trying not to feel conscious of the way he’s placed behind you. Or let your mind wander in inappropriate places.

“Whenever yer ready, hen.”

You brace yourself, close your eyes for a brief second, wondering how the hell you’d landed on this planet, then breathe in, open your eyes-

The weight is in your hands. Not on the floor. You’re holding it.

You almost drop it when he cheers behind you, warm palms rubbing down from your shoulders to your elbows and back up. “Easy! I told you you’d be a natural! ‘S all in the legs and you’ve got awesome legs, bonnie! Let’s add twenty more.”

It’s a blur of racking and de-racking and lifting once and setting back, and redoing it again and again. You’re out of breath, sweating like a sinner in church, but you’re smiling along with him, finding yourself giving him double high fives, and doing small, excited jumps.

“Next one’s exactly my weight, if y’can lift that, I’ll be losing my bloody mind! D’you realize how well yer doin’ for a first-timer?” He says as he bends next to you, adjusting the bar for the next set of weights. With a wipe of his forearm over his forehead, he crouches slightly down, placing his head right above your shoulder and looking your reflection in the mirror straight in the eyes with a conspiratory grin. “Swear to God, if ye can lift it off the ground, I’m buying you the most expensive drink at the bar next door!” he says, grin blending into a blinding smile, too genuine for your own good.

He’s just friendly, just friendly, just friendly, you say to yourself like a mantra as you position yourself. He stands again to his full height behind you, hands ready under the bar, a safenet.

Deep breath in– hold it…

Slowly but surely, you lift the weight off the floor, your ears ringing from the effort. You see his lips move as he cheers you on, but the blood pumping in your eardrums makes it impossible to hear him. Suddenly, the weight is back on the ground and your feet are off the floor as you’re lifted in a tight embrace and spun around like you weigh nothing.

You yelp and flail but he’s holding you tight, face pressed smack-dab in the middle of your chest, between your tits, rumbling praises about your prowess while you’re trying to figure out whether this can be something that your brain is capable of summoning as a dream.

“Put me down, Johnny, oh my God, put me down!”

He thankfully complies but not before squeezing your ass tighter, and suddenly nothing feels real anymore.

“Jesus, I knew ye were perfect,” he says, pulling back reluctantly to rerack the bar and put back the weights. “I cannot wait to properly start training ye’ tomorrow, but for now, I have a promise ta’ keep, and, uh, let’s just say I wouldn’t mind using those strong thighs as earmuffs with this freezin’ weather. On the way back from the bar, what d’ya say?” he adds, wiggling his eyebrows with a crooked smile that lets you know he’s joking around. (Is he?)

You laugh with him and for a second, you forget what you were here for.

+++

The way to the bar is short. It was just a block away (Good for business, he jokes), but the conversation with Johnny made time really fly by.

He seems genuinely glad when you tell him you’d decided to head to the gym not just as a New Year’s resolution, but trying to simply become a better you. There’s no condescendence, no talking down, no (God forbid) pity, just an overall nice interaction the whole time. He tells you about being on leave as a soldier (Medical leave, he specifies, a fucked up knee can work in a gym, but it’s a different story out in the field), you tell him about your studies and how that led into a “big girl” job that left you no time for yourself.

“But I’ve always been a big girl,” you feel the need to justify. “Just… gotten bigger as I stopped finding time to move. The desk and the laptop are pretty stationary,” you joke, still trying to make sense of why a man like him (broad, and tall, and strong, and… gosh, just perfect-looking) would even deign to accept being seen with you.

(It’s not a date, you dumbass)

“I happen to like big girls,” is what you don’t expect him to say.

Wait, what?

His blue eyes glue you to your seat, and you respond dumbly. “What?”

“I mean, why do you think I’d offer to train you?” he continues, placing his hand, big and warm over your thigh. It’s squished as you sit, wide and flattened in your seat, yet his hand covers a good amount, almost covering the whole width.

Your brain is short-circuiting but you have to answer something.

“Out of– uh… out of niceness?” you stammer out, feeling your insecurities climb back out of the hole they’d been sleeping in all this time, making you shrink even more, trying to cover yourself as if he didn’t see right through you with that piercing gaze. “To feel good seeing you be the reason I lose weight?”

He chuckles, squeezing your thigh as his head hangs down, almost as if to hide the smile that spreads on his lips.

“Strength training doesn’t work like that, bonnie.” He looks back up, and his eyes are blue, and wide, and so pretty, that you can’t find anything to argue back. “Ye’ think building glutes underneath that fat arse does anything but make it bigger?” He shifts, inching closer as he licks his lips and drops his voice lower. “Ye’ think growing your quads will make this,” he gives an even firmer squeeze, wiggling the fat back and forth, and you tense under his grip, but he’s got you pinned down, “any less wide and soft?”

He presses closer, and the booth has no escape room, you’re practically squeezed into the corner as he pushes his body against yours, bending to whisper lowly in the crook of your neck.

“I did not joke when I said I want yer pretty thighs wrapped tight around my head.”

You can’t be blamed when you don’t remember how you ended up in the back of a cab, Johnny barely taking the time to bark an address to the poor driver and throw fifty quid on the front seat before kissing you absolutely senseless, shamelessly groping your tits with a hand and wrapping the other around your thigh, squeezing you close.

You should probably think more about going home with basically a stranger, no matter how hot, but when he presses his entire palm against your cunt, cupping it over the quickly dampening pair of leggings that didn’t seem so thick anymore, you can’t think at all. He swallows your quiet moans, and hums contently against your lips, taking each gasp for air as an invitation to slither his tongue into your mouth. God, you’d forgotten what a good makeout session was like, and you can’t even find it in you to be embarrassed when you see the cabbie’s eyes in the rearview mirror, instantly looking away when you see him staring.

Johnny doesn’t seem to mind either, and when he notices you looking in the front again and again, he crowds you against the door behind the driver with a huff, half-climbing over you until his knee is pressed against your core, and the only thing in your field of vision is him.

“Johnny,” you try to say, but it’s getting hard to think, with the way you’re being squeezed in a corner, this hunk of a man of pure muscle pressing against you like a weighted blanket, kissing you like you were a drop of water in the desert and he was a parched man drinking you for his salvation. You feel his excitement pressed against your thigh, and it gives you enough lucidity to try again. “Johnny,” you gasp out again, “aren’t we going a little fast?”

He laughs instead, choosing to focus on the side of your mouth, pressing fervent little kisses down your neck before starting to suckle the delicate skin over where your clavicle is. “I can go as slow as you’d like, bun.” He takes the spot an inch next to the previous one into his mouth and sucks again, this time more forcefully, marking you, and oh God you’re going to have to conceal it before work tomorrow, unless you can find a turtleneck to wear–

The cab driver clears his throat, and you notice that the car is stopped in front of a small apartment complex. Johnny says a cordial thanks as he pulls you out of the car and throws another twenty on the backseat, before wrapping his arm around your shoulders and taking all of the thinking out of the equation as he walks you to the entry.

His flat is pretty well furnished, all things considered, but he doesn’t give you enough time to observe the deco as he presses you against the door and slides his hand under your leggings.

“Got me starin’ at that ass the second you walked in, best fuckin’ thing I’ve seen in months, d’ye realize that, bonnie?” he breathes out against your ear as his entire palm cups your sex, and you can only whine as you press your forehead into the crook of his neck. “And by how wet this pussy is, I think you liked starin’ at me, too.”

“You are–” you say, but he curls his middle finger in, spreading your lips and spreading the wetness to your clit, making you choke on your words, “-very nice to stare at.”

“Yeah?” you hear the grin in his voice.

“Mmhm,” you nod, as he keeps the back and forth of his finger, never dipping in too far, just keeping you hungry for more.

“Then how’d ye like to stare down at me as I taste this wet cunt of yours?” he purrs in your ear as he stops moving completely, letting the words process.

Brain.exe has stopped functioning.

Had you ever had a boyfriend willing to speak filth like that to you when you were down to do the deed, maybe you would’ve gotten enough practice to know what to answer something sensible and intelligible to that, but as it stands, all you can muster is a very dumb-sounding “Huh?” as you stare back at him.

And that, apparently, is the funniest thing in the world to him, because he dips his head down and laughs, almost like a boyish giggle. Not only does that not stop him from kneeling in front of you, but it also somehow gives him more confidence to keep talking like that.

“How about you look down into my eyes as I eat out your pretty little pussy and make you come around my tongue, how’s that sound?” His baby blues bear no trace of maliciousness, no trace of a joke, as his fingers hook around the waistband and trace it around your stomach. You have to make a very conscious effort not to suck it in immediately in preparation for the letdown, but he doesn’t pull them down yet, only moving his hand alongside the edge. Your silence as you try to process what is happening only seems to spur him on instead. “In fact, how about you close your eyes, I close mine, and you hold my head close as I devour you, would you let me do that, pretty girl?”

“I’m not-” you can’t think of any way to properly let him down, not when he looks up with such pleading eyes, so the words stumble out gracelessly. “I’m sweaty, you don’t wanna–”

But he interrupts as he pulls your leg closer by gripping your thigh and squishing it against his cheek “But I do.” He inhales deeply, and your own breath shakes at the sight of how blissed out he already looks. “God, I want it. Let me have this.”

A voice somewhere inside yells at you that this has to be some sort of weird fetish, and that he most certainly won’t be having the same aura of desperation around him tomorrow, when post-coital rationale shows up and he sees your body past the veil of lust, but for now, you think that getting some with Johnny cannot be that bad compared to any one of your past encounters. Might as well enjoy it when you still can.

You wrap your hand around the one he still has around your waistband, and see his face positively light up as you softly caress his cheek.

In the end, you’re the one that pleads.

“Johnny, please.”

Your pants are off you and your leg is over his shoulder before you realize what is happening.

The feel of his warm tongue against your slit makes any thought, any doubt, any fear positively vanish, and the content sigh that he lets out as he licks at you is the same sigh as finally removing a bra at the end of a long day, it’s the sigh of laying down carelessly onto a soft bed after standing up for hours, it’s the sigh of the first bite of the best meal a man has after starving for weeks.

It should be awkward the way his arm wraps around your thigh and sinks into the softness of your stomach, using it to pin you up as he uses his other hand to spread you out enough for him to work his jaw the same way he did when he was making out with you in the car… Yet it’s not. It’s natural, the way his hand squeezes you as he licks, and sucks, and kisses around your pussy, unhurried yet passionate, languidly but firmly, pressing his tongue in, licking around your lips, and maddeningly avoiding the place you wanted him to touch most.

“Johnny,” you moan as he grazes his teeth around your sensitive nub in response. You almost buck out of his hold, but he’s firmly keeping you in place. “Please, don’t tease.”

He hums in response and dives back in, eyes fluttering closed as he ignores your whines. Every time his tongue or lips graze your clit, he works his mouth the opposite way, holding your thigh harder and pressing his palm up as he counters your hip movements with a clever swipe of the tongue. It’s absolutely maddening. “Johnny, please!”

He chuckles as he pulls back, an obscene string of spit lengthening as he pulls back, only breaking when he runs his tongue against his reddened, swollen lips. “Thought ye’ wanted me ta’ go slow, bun.” His eyes sparkle with challenge, but you can also discern a veil of unhidden desperation, of waiting for you to give the go-ahead for him to let loose.

“I’m fine with faster–” you start, but the words dissolve into a barely restrained moan as he hikes your leg up more, getting you closer to him, and immediately singling onto your neglected clit.

His forehead rests onto your belly now, and if you had more than two functioning neurons you’d wonder how he is that he’s breathing, but his hums and moans let you know that he’s perfectly content burrowing his nose in your pussy, nudging at your clit with the tip of it as he licks you with all the dedication you’ve never been shown from a man of his caliber.

He builds it up, and soothes it down, knowing exactly when to put more pressure, or when to teasingly swirl his tongue around your entrance, or to lave broad strokes of his tongue, so much so that the knee that’s not hooked over his shoulder almost gives out on a particularly forceful suck of your clit.

“Easy there,” he groans almost petulantly, as if you’re interrupting him. “Can’t have you fallin’ over when I’m not done wit’ ye.”

“My legs are gonna give out,” you say honestly, trying to catch your breath and avoid having the perfect man at your feet steal it again. “You’re a bit too good at this.” He grins up at you, “Am I?” and you want to give you a playful swat, but instead decide on carding your fingers through his now disheveled mohawk. “Guess the mess on my face speaks for itself… Shall we take this to the bedroom?”

You throw a glance around the apartment, assessing your options. “Couch is closer.” His smile is blinding. “I like how ye’ think.”

It’s now the second time he surprises you by scooping your legs from under you and picking you up like he couldn’t wait any longer and that carrying you bridal-style was the only way he could think of moving you. You yelp out a protest but he swallows it with another hungry kiss, shamelessly smearing your own wetness over your cheek as he walks you both to the couch.

You sink into the cushions where he places you gently without so much as a grunt of effort, and oh God, there they are, the standards are rising.

You reach over to pull him closer as he straightens up, but he only gives you a peck on the lips in return, like he hadn’t been kissing you sloppily the entire time.

“Come back,” you whine, hoping you can get it done before he comes back to his senses, like they all do, but he just smiles and kneels between your feet, hands pressing your thighs apart. The squelch of your lips parting should be embarrassing were he not looking up at you like you were the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, eyes full of adoration, like a child staring up at the full moon on full display on a clear night’s skies. Maybe you are his moon, his goddess, judging by the lust-clouded look directed at you.

“I did say I was gonna make you come on my face,” he says lowly, the gravel in his voice making you squirm as he places a trail of kisses up your thigh. “And I intend to keep that promise.”

With that, he dives in again, using his forearms to pin your legs open on the couch and his fingers to tease around where his tongue can’t reach. You mewl when you feel his tongue at your entrance, circling it around it briefly before delving in as deep as he could, his right hand stroking your clit rhythmically. The fact that he’s so good at somehow playing all your buttons like a maestro directing an orchestra has you thinking that he must be some sort of womanizer, some freak who does this kind of thing every night, but then his lips wrap around your nub and he gives a firm, long suck, and any restriction that you could’ve conjured up simply vanishes. Your thighs want to close around his head, but you can’t move under the iron grip he has on you.

You fist his hair more forcefully than necessary, and he looks up, wet eyelashes framing his beautiful eyes as he hums in response.

“Please,” you moan, and he hums affirmatively again, closing his eyes to focus on licking and suckling harder. He heard you, he simply doesn’t seem to care. “Johnny.”

“What,” he asks, voice muffled and why is this so hot?

“I need… I need,” you whine, unable to string the words together, and desperately trying to buck your hips under him, for lack of strength to actually close your thighs how you want to.

That seems to get his attention, and he chuckles, before pulling back with a gentle kiss on your mound. “Guess you’ll have to keep tryin’, pet,” he sussurs, a condescending pat on your thighs before he dives in slower than before.

Oh, the absolute asshole. Now he wants you to work for it?

You think that doing the opposite, relaxing your thighs open and letting him go to town however he wanted would help, but he seems hell-bent on riling you up every once in a while, getting you closer and closer with each lave of his tongue over your poor, overstimulated clit, but never enough to actually push you over the edge.

After what seems like an eternity, and almost, almost starting to think that this was a mistake, halfway ready to let him do this thing before your hip starts to cramp up, you feel a finger nudge at your entrance.

“Fucking finally–” you start, ready to curse him out, but he’s faster than you can think in your blissed-out state, and he slides a second finger alongside the first one, immediately zeroing in on that spot that makes you go cross-eyed and buck under his hold.

“Thassit– there you go, pretty girl,” he murmurs against your clit, and oh, okay, maybe you were closer than you thought, because the rhythmic curl of his fingers doesn’t need to last long before you’re off like an arrow, back arching and thighs squeezing, coming harder than you ever thought was possible. If he were any less skilled at making you completely lose the ability to think, you’d maybe notice that you’d managed to close your thighs almost completely around his head, but he wasn’t, so you don’t, twitching helplessly in the aftershocks of the most wonderful orgasm a man had ever given you.

Limbs that somehow still belong to your body hang uselessly off the side of the couch, and you struggle to catch your breath. You blink lazily, noticing him smugly wipe his face with the back of his hand, his half lidded eyes not any less blissed-out than yours.

You didn’t believe a man like this ever existed, until now. It aches that this might not be something that would last, so you make grabby hands at him, unable to find the will to speak just yet.

He laughs softly and gently grabs your arms, kissing from your knuckles slowly up your arm, to the crook of your neck. The patience he has is almost inhuman, as he takes the time to let you regather your senses, matching the marks he made earlier on the other side of your neck. You cup your hand around his head in response, and he smiles at you.

“Ye’ with me, bun?”

“Mmhm.”

“That slow enough fer’ ye’?” He holds himself up, an inch fron your face, and you reach up to kiss him.

“I’m gonna kill you dead,” you mutter against his lips, and he chuckles.

“Let me at least fuck you properly, first,” he whispers, and you notice that he’s long since unbuttoned his pants. You barely get a view of the massive size of him over your belly as he holds himself in his hand, large palm not enough to cover the whole length of him as he strokes himself, angled in such way that his tip rubs against your clit on each downstroke. The word “Please,” is not even halfway out of your mouth when he sinks into you in one swift motion, the rest dissolving into a long, drawn-out moan.

“Fuck-” he grunts, “so tight, cannot believe it.”

He guides one of your legs to wrap around him, keeping it flush against his body with his elbow as his palm grips your ass tightly, the other holding him against the backrest, forearm near your head as he pulls you closer for a sloppy kiss as he starts rolling his hips. You moan into his mouth and he swallows them greedily, leveraging each trust of his hips with a pull with his hand, helping you move in tandem with him, readjusting when your thigh threatens to slip out of his hold. The slaps of his pelvis to yours should sound obscene, his hard muscles hitting against your soft, jiggly skin, but his groans into your mouth are like music to your ears, the fact that he’s vocal about it has you almost reaching your peak again in no time, but he seems to sense it, and slows down immediately.

You try to kiss him harder, but he makes a small noise of protest, muttering something that sounds vaguely like “no, let me, let me just–” and you want to ask what he wants to do, to help him, but he instead reaches down both hands to grab your hips and pull you off the backrest. You yelp as your ass suddenly hangs in the air, his cock speared inside you the only secure point as he pulls you halfway off the couch, but he directs you firmly, “Here, around me,” helping you wrap your legs tightly as he starts thrusting again, harder than before.

“Oh, God, oh God,” you flail around, but each thrust in pushes your back into the cushions, and he reaches behind his back to hold your feet in his hand as he presses his palm near your head for support, spewing more filth as he does.

“That’s it, hold me tight, squeeze my cock like ye’ almost squeezed mah heid off earlier, huh, bonnie? Show me what those thighs can do, fuck-”

Your whole body is jiggling with each thrust, and you don’t have it in you to even feel self-conscious with the way each time he fills you, the tip of his cock nudges against the spongey spot inside, making you mewl in tempo with his relentless rhythm.

“Johnny, Johnny,” you moan, and he bends over to kiss you again, swallowing his name like communion while you chant it like a prayer.

“Don’t give up now, bonnie, keep squeezin’, fuck, I can feel ye’, yer so close.”

You try to get some leverage with your upper body, trying to push yourself up the cushions, but his cock suddenly slips out of you as your thighs almost give out, and an apology is already halfway out your mouth when he kneels back down and burrows between your legs, tongue first with a rushed “Need ta’ taste us, fuck, both of us, together-”

One hand wraps around your hip and over your pelvis, reaching up to knead desperately at your stomach, to pull you closer or push you away, you can’t tell, the other pulling your lips apart to settle his entire lower face against your pussy firmly– before letting go as he starts humming.

Your thighs are free to squeeze around his ears, and he nods encouragingly as he keeps licking, and then you hear it: the sounds of wet stroking. You don’t see him fisting his cock, but you hear it, fast and desperate. As your hand tangles in his hair to pull him closer, and another hum– no, another moan vibrates through your core, it’s the last thing you hear before you’re absolutely gone, gasping out a curse as you tense up in his hold, trembling as you come.

It’s even more intense than the first one, and as you buck out of his hold, he stands up shakily, his hand moving faster and faster around his cock, the angry red of his tip at the same level as your face. You gesture for him to sit down, trying to signal to him that you want to reciprocate despite the post-orgasmic haze and exhaustion, but he shakes his head, and, seconds later, you feel warm wetness land on your belly and slowly trickle down as he moans your name when he comes.

You feel like you still have to give something back, and, when he slumps down next to you with a content sigh, you climb over to place a delicate kiss on the tip of his cock, letting out a huff of laughter when it twitches under your touch.

“Ye’ absolute menace,” he whispers fondly as he pulls you up and tips his body to the side to lie down, using his legs to push you up halfway over him, trapping you between his body and the cushions, yet protectively shielding you from falling over. You place another kiss on his stomach, and you see his abs tense under your touch as your warm breath moves his hairs as you hover for a second, before deciding to shift up and use his pectorals as a cushion. He hums softly as his arm wraps around under yours, reaching to pull the plaid off the back of the couch and settle it around you both. Ticklish, eh? That’s a piece of information best stored for later.

You’re still breathless, absolutely done for. God, best decision of your life, going to the gym. “Now what?” you can’t help but ask. It’s the same fear that always creeps up, the fear that he got to try out a fantasy, and now that he was done with it, he had no need to want to continue anything possibly serious. Not that eating a girl out on a first date, if you could even call it a date, was a sign of a one-night stand, you can’t help but feel awkward and insecure now that it’s all done, despite the comforting cuddle.

He chuckles in response, that same chuckle from earlier in the day, a What a silly question chuckle. Like he’d read into your thoughts and insecurities and found them absolutely laughable.

“Same time at the gym, tomorrow? I want you to squeeze my head off next time.”

“Next time, huh?”

He pulls your leg over his pelvis, trapping his still half-mast cock between his belly and the crook of your knee, hand firmly wrapped to shift you up, almost completely on top of him. When both of you are comfortable and you start feeling the tendrils of sleep pull you deeper, he gives a last, playful squeeze to your ass.

“Next time.”

#cc writes #soap #soap x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #fat reader #chubby reader #john soap mactavish x fat reader #pwp #call of duty #fanfiction #call of duty fanfiction #cod fanfic #cod #plus size reader #john soap mactavish #my man knows how to eat pussy and he ENJOYS it #ignore my attempt at writing his scottish accent i tried okay?

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mywifesparts · 4 months

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My wife's nipple and areola 😈🔥

#shaven #clean shaven #chubby pussy #chubby white girl #chubby wife #chubby women #chubbiness #chubb #chubby

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l3viat8an · 4 months

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Roooo! It’s your favorite Mammon simp I’m back again!!! and all I’ve been thinking about lately is pussy drunk! Mammon 😩🥰🥰🥰

Nsfw!

okay this ask is kinda old I’m sooo sorry 😭 But Pussy drunk Mammon is sooo hot nonnie ugdhgs-

Pussy drunk! Mammon is always thinking about you(r pussy). Like he’ll be spacing out in the middle of class thinking about how good it feels!!!- Anything from eating you out tasting your cum on his tongue, to feeling your pretty pussy squeezing around his dick, Mammon just needz it!! and once he actually gets his hands on you, you’re both done for-

Mammon will be desperate, by the time you get home! Practically dragging you into his room as soon as he can and pushing you against the door as he sinks to his knees in front of you, mumbling “Need to taste ya…..been thinkin about it all day.” tugging your pants off on his way down, then just as quickly pulling your legs up to rest on his shoulders as his lips wrap around your clit. his warm tongue licks and laps at your clit, getting it all wet with his spit, as his index and middle fingers push as deep as they possibly can into your cunt.

And…he just doesn’t can’t stop- you don’t think he knows how to stop, it doesn’t matter how many times you cum, one, two, four times-

Mammon can’t stop even if you’re whining and telling him it’s too much- it’s almost like he can’t even hear you begging him to give you a break.

It’s just no use, really all he hears is the squelching sounds that your pussy makes and the lewd sucking sounds he’s making.

it’s just Mammon and his pretty pussy-

Afterwards tho Mammon is so sweet!!! Treating you to a nice bath and some of the best cuddles ever!!! He even lets you ‘yell’ at him for not listening- even if you both know it’ll happen again next time~

#almost wrote ‘pussy whipped’ at first and technically that wouldn’t have been wrong-#1 am thots~#obey me!#obey me smut #obey me mammon x reader #obey me mammon #smut #x reader #mammon x reader #om! x reader #om! mammon #obey me mammon x chubby reader #obey me #om!#obey me mammon smut #mams <333

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justaclowngirl · 1 month

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SHOWER TIMEE

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curvykittyyssmutfics · 5 months

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pervyroomate!Satoru who can't believe his luck when you answer his online ad for a roomate: "What made you seek out a male roommate, honey? Ain't cha scared the big bad wolf is gonna get ya in your sleep?" You scoff with a heavy eye roll. "Fuck no." He can't stop the smile slowly forming on his pretty face. 'Ya should be.' He thinks, already imagining how'd look naked and squirming beneath him as he made you cry on his cock.

pervyroomate!Satoru that despite his amazing mouth-watering muscles, he mostly watched as you move your belongings into his spacious 2 bd apt: "What the fuck, Gojo? You specifically demanded I not hire movers as you're 'stronger than any of those limp dick fuckers.'" You can't see how he leans against the wall amused, arms crossed and intently staring at the way your small cotton shorts gets lost between your plump brown ass cheeks as you struggle takin boxes to your new bedroom. "Sorry, the views just so damn spectacular. Lookin so fuckin good, baby." Your cheeks warm in embarrasment as you abandon the heavy box, rush into the room and slam the door. Satoru only chuckles, fixin his raging boner as he heads downstairs to get the rest of your stuff.

pervyroomate!Satoru does anything he can in the upcoming weeks to rile you up by any means: "Gojo, put on some goddamn clothes for christ sake. My girls are gone be here soon and none of em wanna see that fuckin shit." You grumble as you sit on the couch and turn on the Netflix app. He laughs heartily, dramatically ploppin down next to you. Its impossible not to notice how his naked chest ripples, how low his black briefs sit on his hips. His hypnotic ocean blue eyes linger on your thick cocoa thighs before meeting your gaze. "Fabrications. Your BFF cornered me in our kitchen just the other day.. Damn near begged me to dick her down. Wanted so bad to tell her I'm savin that for you." He leans in close to your stunned face to whisper his last sentence and gets up, heading to his bedroom. Your left starin at his spot on the couch with wide eyes and wet panties.

pervyroomate!Satoru purposely switched out the dark shower curtain a few months into you moving in with a clear one, finding any reason to disturb your alone time: "Hey y/n, need to brush my teeth real fast." Doesn't bother knocking, quickly stepping in before you have time to cover your wet body. His eyes seem a shade darker as he scans up and down your soapy, naked frame. A small 'fuck' escaping his pretty lips as he stares unashamed. "Gojo, what the hell?!" You screech, arms quickly covering your glistening breasts as you cup your other hand over your pussy. You could literally melt on the spot at the way she clenches at his intense gaze. "Get the fuck out!" The damn pervert looks on for a moment longer, actually having the audacity to palm his cock a few times. "Okay okay, baby, damn. Why you gotta be like that? You showed me yours, don't you want me to show you mine?" He asks with pouty lips as he finally backs out the bathroom, arms raised in surrender. You stop shielding your tits to throw a bar of dove soap at his stark white locks. He only chuckles, quickly shutting the door to avoid impact. "Fuckin creep, Gojo!!"

pervyroomate!Satoru flirts with you relentlessly, crossing every boundary and every line over the next few months: "You gettin the snacks, babe?" Satoru calls from the front room. You roll your eyes at the pet name before you feel a stinging SMACK! to your plump behind. "Ow, Gojo! You fuckin asshole. Quit it!" You swat at the childish nuisance but he dodges your attack easily, leaning against the kitchen counter a few feet away. Fuckin guy has spent the better part of the day smackin your ass while yelling 'Smack Ass Friday!' like a damn teenager. "Awe, come on pretty! Love watchin how your ass bounces when I do it." He coos at you before swerving a bag of doritos you quickly chuck his way. "Boy, I don't give a fuck. You touch it again and you're goin down." It's insulting how lightly he takes your threat; walking right up, grabbin a handful of each ass cheek and smashing your hips together. His half hard dick feels chubby as fuck against you, girth of him makin you gasp and clutch as his shoulders. Your insides clench at the feelin of him pressed against you. "Fuck, I been waitin to go down on you. Name the time and place sweetheart." He tells you sweetly, swiping his thumb across your bottom lip, kissing you on the cheek and retreating to the living room. Damn this man must love leaving you speechless, heart and pussy fluttering to his dirty words.

pervyroomate!Satoru notices how much you love how he smells: whether it's his natural scent or cologne. You take his shirts without his permission too often, only wantin the ones he'd previously worn. Loves how he comes home late one night and catches you in one of his stolen white t-shirts. Neckline pulled up to your nose, tittes jiggling wildly underneath as you play with yourself. He stares between the crack of your bedroom door, hand swiftly squeezin at his dick as he watches you mindlessly rub yourself over your underwear. y/e/c eyes shut tight, quietly moaning his name like a fuckin prayer. "Toruuuuu! Fuh-uuuck Satoru, love how you smell. Mmmm, soooo good. Want you so m-much, need you to fuck me Toru!" His mouth hangs wide open as he humps his hand faster atop his light blue jeans, absolutely entranced how you frantically rub at your throbbing lil pearl. "Ahhhh! Oh my god, Toru please!" He's so greatful for a front row seat to witness you cum like a fuckin virgin. Fuck are you one?Can't help his deranged whisper as he commits the scene to memory. "That's it, baby. Cum for me. Fuck.. I know that lil pussy's so gushy for me right now. Can't wait to see it up close, gonna make her cream all over me pretty girl." Head pushed back into your fluffy pink pillow, pretty y/h/c hair splayed out makin you look like a goddess in the throes of passion to him. "Wanna cum on your cock, Satoruuuu!" His shirt rides up on you, showing him how your tummy pudge jiggles as your body convulses into an arch. You bite your lip to muffle the rest of your pleasure. It's okay. The sight is enough for Satoru. He paints the inside of his new jeans immediately, free hand cupped over his mouth as his eyes roll back, his hips repeatedly jerking his clothed spasming cock into the palm of his hand.

pervyroomate!Satoru who asks you the nastiest shit just to see you sexually flustered: You're in bed reading, back against the headboard with Satoru's head in your lap. Your hand carelessly cards through his soft hair, nails lightly scratchin at his scalp. So cute the way he whines at you to continue everytime you accidentally pause as you get to a good part in your book. "Hey baby?" His voice so innocent that you know for a fact the next words outta his mouth are gonna be filthy as fuck. "Yeah?" "How come you only call me Satoru when you're on your back, fingers in that pretty lil pussy?" His tone is laced with the genuine wonder of a child asking a simple question. Your jaw might as well be on the floor. "G-Gojo!" Shocked exclamation half accusatory, half scolding. "What? I really wanna know, y/n. Sound as pretty as you looked in my shirt when you moan it like you did the other night; made me cum so hard listenin." He's lookin up at you upside down but you're absolutely mortified, using your book to hide your face. What do you even say to him right now? "Aww, baby don't be shy. I do it when I think about you too. Cept I usually have a pair of your panties up to my nose." He shares with you happily and unapologetic, pulling the book from your fingers to toss it to the floor. "I wanna hear you say it like that again." Turning on his belly to leer at your clothed pussy through your tiny bottoms. Your breath picks up in anticipation, starin as his fine ass leans foward and gives a slow lick from slit to clit. The urgent, intense sensations has you squealing out his name as you slide both hands into his hair. "Satoruuu!" Slidin your shorts to the side, admiring your moist plump pussy lips. "Fuck baby, say it again. Just like that." He commands you, latching onto your sensitive lil button. All you can do is comply, buckin into his mouth as you wail 'Satoru' over and over to the damn heavens.

#black reader #all readers #black fanfiction #dirty talk #sub reader #pussylicker #pussy eater #perversity #jjk smut #jjk #gojo x reader #gojo x black reader #gojo x black y/n #gojo satoru #chubby reader

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spice-jasmine · 15 days

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right after I got home and just before I grabbed my toy…

watch me

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lasciviouspoison · 8 months

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omg! my boyfriend is a big sexy boxer!

oh em gee, happy kinktobaaaaaa!!!!!! lmfao, here’s a small gift from me :)

i got kinda carried away with this plot line, lol. tw: tojixchubby!reader, boxer!toji, implied black/poc!reader, implied age gap (reader in early 20s, toji late 20s/early 30s), afab reader, oral sex (f receiving), pussydrunk!toji, cockdrunk!reader, hints of self insert (sorry :/ ) and anything else i might’ve forgotten! love ya, mwah!

~~~

toji fushiguro was one of the best heavyweight boxers of the current day. he was agile, extremely strong, and never lacked in stamina. he was a staggering 6’3 and was over 250 pounds of pure muscle. littered in tattoos from head to toe, toji was a force to be reckoned with.

not to mention, he was hot as fuck. almost every hour on the hour, there was someone on the internet raving about how sexy he was. he had literally gotten invited to read dirty tweets not once, but twice because of the general influx of them.

however, no one other than those closest to toji knew about you.

you, the pretty journalist who he had seen at his first press release for the upcoming fight. he was taken aback by your casualness. while the majority your peers wore ugly suits and skirts, you were simply dressed in baggy jeans and a t-shirt. your curly hair was down, slightly touching your shoulder blades and he could see the tattoos you had up your arm and neck.

toji’s mouth watered at the sight of you. he couldn’t wait for the moment in which you raised your hand to ask him a question out of those pretty pouty lips.

after the release, he made it a point to ask his manager, shiu, to call you into the back for an “exclusive interview” with the most successful fighter on the block.

and by interview, i mean toji asked you for your number and you, albeit anxiously, agreed.

and four months later, he’s been stuck to you like glue. he’s taken you on so many dates, he always pops in to see you whenever he has the time after training, and he just recently popped the question, asking you to officially be his partner.

however, toji also does the best he can to not prematurely intertwine his life with yours.

you were still a college student, finally making your way to the end of your junior year. your life was slow and steady, yet exciting. you had a few great friends who supported you through everything, yet, they still knew nothing about your little rendezvous with toji.

meanwhile, everything was about to change at toji’s most recent weigh-in. after his opponent and himself stepped on the scale, the promoters decided it would be a good idea to bring the two back out and open the floor for questions.

of course you were in the crowd, not only to support your man, which felt amazing to finally say, but to watch and learn from your mentor. however, to everyone’s surprise, toji’s opponent had an announcement to make before the questions began.

he stood up and gave the crowd and smile before pointing directly at you, “everyone see that beautiful lady right there? i’m gonna beat the shit outta this man over here and take her home with me afterwards. ya like the sound of that sweetheart?”

toji’s eyes immediately found yours and once he seen them begin to gloss over, he couldn’t help but find himself running out of his chair, attempting to prematurely pummel his opponent. while both security teams tried to hold him back, you were being escorted out of the area and into the back rooms.

shortly after, your face was all over media outlets as they attempted to figure out who you were and your association to toji.

which brings us to now.

“baby please, talk to me. m’beggin here”. toji’s been standing outside of his master bathroom for a total of 20 minutes attempting to get you to at least calm down. you had been crying since the weigh-in, refusing to see him. the only reason you were here was because shiu redirected your driver back to toji’s home without your knowledge.

“go away! go get ready for your fight and leave me alone!” you could admit you sounded childish, but you didn’t care. it was one thing to be publicly embarrassed like that, but to now have the whole world know that you were somehow connected to toji was awful. you wanted to do that on your own terms, especially since the two of you are just barely reaching the “official” stage in your relationship.

toji grabbed the locked door knob and twisted, “yn please just come out and talk to me. lemme help you, baby, please.” while toji prided himself on never begging for anything, you were an exception to the rule.

suddenly the door swung open and he was met with your puffy red eyes and lips. despite knowing the weight of the situation, he couldn’t help but feel his dick twitch upon seeing how beautiful you looked after crying. he’d be sure to tell you that later.

“there’s nothing you can do. everyone’s gonna figure out i’m your girlfriend and my life is gonna be turned upside down”. you could feel your throat begin to constrict once again. all you wanted was to crawl into a hole and never come back up.

toji stroked your hair and brought you to his chest, “i can’t make that go away baby, and i’m sorry. but what i can do is try to make this as seamless as possible for you. things don’t have to change overnight, we can still go slow”.

he could feel you shake your head, “it’s not gonna work like that toji, you and i both know that. my fucking mom has already called me to ask about us and i don’t know what to tell her.”

toji cocked his head to the side and scrunched his brows, “tell her we’re together?”

you pushed him back and little and laughed, “oh my god toji, are you fucking dense? you’re missing the point.”

he wanted to kick himself for being so careless. obviously toji knew that the situation ran deeper than the two of you simply dating. but, he at least figured that you wouldn’t be scared to tell your mom.

alas, he was wrong.

toji took a deep breath, “don’t cuss at me when i haven’t cussed at you. i’m trying to help and you’re throwing a tantrum. the situation isn’t fair to either of us yn, and we both know it.”

you gave him one more good look before you took a step back into the bathroom and slammed the door in his face.

~~~

the fight was in 20 minutes and toji’s heart was pounding. his adrenaline was rushing throughout his body and all he could think of was your crying face and what that ugly fucker said to you earlier.

in every sense of the word, he was pissed.

he had left you back in the hands of your mentor, granting the two of you front row seats. although you could feel everyone’s eyes staring at the back of your head, you held your composure.

you could feel your mentor squeeze your hand, “i know it’s not my place, but don’t beat yourself up over what happened earlier yn, especially if you’re happy. if the two of you are together, just leave it at that. you don’t have to explain yourself to anyone, i promise.”

you reached over and gave her a hug, letting yourself finally feel the embrace of someone who cared about you. however, the sweet moment was interrupted when the announcer came out to introduce toji’s opponent.

you felt like a fish being gutted while watching him walk down the isle. his entourage behind him, making him look even weaker than he was. and the most disgusting part was him catching your eye after bouncing around the stage and winking.

toji swore he was gonna kill him. he was gonna rip his gloves off with his teeth and jam his thumbs into his eyes. taunting him was different, it was part of the sport. but making a show out of his lady was something that toji was gonna lay his ass out for.

everyone watched as the announcer made his way back into the middle of the ring and grabbed the microphone to speak once more, “ladies and gentleman! please give it up for your reigning heavyweight champion, toji fushiguro!”

the screams from the crowd jolted your body awake, firing your adrenaline on all cylinders. it was at this moment when you realized you were dating toji-fucking -fushiguro and you weren’t gonna let his scum of an opponent make you feel any less because of it.

when toji got to the ring, he removed his robe and only glared at his opponent. it was scarier than seeing him move around with the crowd because to the three of you, this was way more than a fight.

you don’t know what caused you to do it, but you walked up to the ring and called out his name. he started to squat down to speak to you, but instead watched you climbed inside to stand before him. he could see that you had your hands bawled up beside your hips and he laughed a little.

you looked at his opponent and back at him. finally, you slung your arm around him and pulled him in to where only he could hear you, “put his ass to sleep for me toji” and with a kiss to his cheek, you made your descent out of the ring.

suddenly toji was ablaze. in an instant, he transformed from his regular, stern self to the fighter, entertainer, and winner. everyone that could see him on the Jumbotron and television could see that whatever you had said to him was gonna determine the fate of this match.

~~~

2 rounds, 4 minutes and 29 seconds was all it took for toji to lay his opponent out flat. he didn’t need confirmation from the referee before he spit out his mouth guard and roared at the crowd. he could see you standing there in awe at him and it was the cutest thing he had ever seen.

eventually, toji was allowed to say his peace before existing the ring and of course, the world waited at the edge of their seats for the update on what was seen earlier.

toji couldn’t even think straight when it came time for him to talk. the only thing on his mind was you. ynynynyn was all that kept replaying in his mind before he said this, “i want the entire fucking world to know that she’s my girl. she’s been mine since i first seen her and i wouldn’t want it any other way. baby, i love you.”

by this point, you were backstage with his team watching his commentary on a flatscreen. all you wanted to do was wrap your arms around him, but that would have to wait a little longer.

finally, toji walked into the back room, fully changed out of his fighting clothes, and all but stalked his way to you. he embraced you so tightly, you felt like he could snap you in half.

you pulled away from him and and pecked his cheek, “you love me toji?”.

he shook his head, “since the day i met you.”

and while tears were beginning to well in your eyes, toji was throwing you over his shoulder and heading towards his car. with the shouts of his team behind him, the only thing on his mind was getting you home and fucking you till you cried.

he sped home in dangerous silence, alternating from his hand gently squeezing your thigh to slightly rubbing this thumb up as high as you’d allow.

he didn’t even bother to park correctly before he flung his door open. toji sprinted to your side and lifted you out. you could hear his heavy breathing as he traveled through his penthouse lobby and into the elevator.

he body caged you in and his breath fanned your nose. “don’t mean to be rough. hope i’m not scarin ya” he chuckled out.

“no baby. you’re not scaring me at all.” he was, in fact, doing the opposite. you were so turned on, you hoped it wasn’t leaking through your jeans.

toji gripped your face and kissed you roughly. it was much different from the small kisses you shared, but neither of you cared. before separating for air, he pulled your bottom lip between his teeth and pulled, groaning at the sight of how innocent you looked.

after the long awaited ding of the elevator, toji grabbed your arm and pulled you towards his door.

he slung you inside and tossed you over his shoulder, once again, as he led you to the bedroom.

he gently set you down on the bed and removed his black hoodie, exposing his tattooed body. you could still see how hard he was breathing and touched his stomach to try and call him down. yet even from that innocent little touch, he was all the more hard at the sight of you.

he wordlessly took off your shoes and stood up to kiss you again. you could feel him unbuckle your jeans and your hands made their way to his pants. he moved one hand to yours and removed them from his sweats, causing you to pull back from his mouth.

the confusion lacing your face was so cute, but he needed to take his time with you. “this ain’t about me sweet girl, g’nna take my time with you and this pretty body. ‘kay?”

without giving you a chance to respond, he finally pulled your pants off in one go, and kneeled between your legs. he brought his knuckle up to your pretty pink panties and nudged at the wet spot. he licked his lips slightly and kissed your thigh.

“gonna let me eat this pretty pussy baby, yeah? wanna feel my tongue don’cha?” he was softly moving your panties to the side and groaned at the sight. your fat pussy was so pretty. cunt so puffy and wet for him, he had to get a taste.

“please toji, just touch me” you whined and toji didn’t need to hear anything else. he pulled your panties fully off and lapped at your clit like a kitten while his fingers made way to your entrance. he pushed his fingers in and you all but screamed, one hand gripping his hair while the other interlocked with his.

toji could die in your cunt and not complain. this was his own personal heaven and he swore to kill the next person who even tried to look at you funny. “yer pussy’s so sweet baby. could eat it all night if ya let me.”

he latched back onto your clit and sucked hard. his middle finger was hitting that spot you could never reach yourself and you felt euphoric. your thick thighs twitched on either side of his head, but toji didn’t care. his only focus was getting you to cum on his tongue.

he could hear your whimpers get louder and your cunt clench against his finger. he knew you were close and didn’t wanna waste anymore time.

“cum for me sweet girl. wanna taste it mama please.”

and you came, hard. your eyes rolled into the back of your head and you were gripping the covers so tightly you swore you’d put holes into it. toji was desperately trying to keep your legs open so he could continue to ravage your cunt, but he eventually opted to rubbing your precious clit while looking at your face.

he loved the sight of you coming down from your high. you looked exactly how you did after you finished crying and toji could feel his dick get impossibly harder in his pants.

he swiped his thumb over your bottom lip causing your tongue to jut out and lick. you tilted your head up a bit and sucked his thumb into your mouth, being sure to release it with a pop.

“want you to fuck me toji. please fuck me. wanna feel it in me”, you all but whined out.

he looked at you starry eyed and placed his hand on your tummy. “you wanna feel me right here baby? want me deep in your little cunny, ain’t that right” he smiled and slapped your ass.

before you could respond, toji reached for your shirt and lifted it above your head. he watched you unclasp your bra and toss it across the room. it was the first time toji had seen your beautiful, chubby body and he couldn’t be more ecstatic. you were so beautiful and he was so happy he could publically call you his.

he slipped his sweats and boxers down in one go. he reached towards his nightstand and pulled out a condom. after ripping it open with his teeth, he rolled it on and positioned himself toward your entrance.

you backed away a bit and he gripped your leg, “don’t run from me. lemme have it”.

you shook your head slightly and looked up at him wide eyed, “s’not gonna fit”.

he laughed a little and leaned down toward your neck, “i’ll make it fit, pretty”. and began to push the tip in.

he was big like you expected, but he did a considerable amount of prep to make this pleasurable for you and him.

he could feel you claw at his back and his teeth grit together. he wanted to push all the way in and fuck you stupid, but he knew he needed to go slow. it was your first time with him and he wanted to make it as special as it could be.

after fully sheathing himself in your cunt, he let out a quick “fuck” before looking into your eyes.

those beautiful e/c eyes he loved looking into so much. so teary and full of pleasure, “want me to move?”

you let out a small yes and toji rocked his hips slightly. he gripped onto the headboard above your head and sped up a little, not wanting to overwhelm you.

eventually, those small, soft strokes weren’t doing enough for you, causing you to get restless. you pushed your hips towards him and whined, “fuck me harder toji!” and that was all it took for him to fuck you like a mad man.

his hand left the headboard and pushed your thighs wider. the weight of toji on your body mixed with his heavy thrusts almost knocked the wind out of you. you were moaning and whimpering and toji loved the sight.

at some point, toji grabbed your leg and angled your anklet clad foot towards his head. he kissed your ankle before smiling down at you, which caused your pussy to gush around his cock.

he could feel your cunt start to pulsate again, all the while toji was reaching his limit too. he wanted you to cum with him, even if he had to withhold his orgasm a bit longer.

he started thumbing your clit while his body pushed your lifted leg further back, allowing him to hit a new spot within your gummy walls. you could feel the slight curve in his dick and it was driving you insane.

you looked up at him and he began to speak. “want you to cum with me baby. can you do that f’r me?”

you shook your head yes embarrassingly fast and toji rubbed your pussy just a tad bit faster.

you moaned and grabbed toji’s shoulders, “‘m gonna cum toji. i’m gonna cum. oh my god ‘m cummin- oh!” toji felt your release on his abdomen and with a loud groan, he released shortly after you.

he let you grind on his cock while you rode out your shared orgasm. he felt like he had died and went to heaven because of your pussy, and slowly but surely, he came down to witness you still twitching and shaking.

he rubbed your face gently and spoke softly, “c’mon baby. come back to me” he repeated his words until you finally let out a deep breath and weakly smiled.

he pulled out of you with a hiss and tied off the condom before disposing of it. he lifted you out of the bed and brought you to the bathroom before running you a nice warm bath. he filled the tub with bubbles and set you in gently before going to clean up the mess you two had made.

once toji came back, he washed you, lotioned you up and dressed you in a big shirt of his and boxers.

as he finally laid you down to sleep, you felt him kiss your forehead. while you knew things would never go back to the way they were, it didn’t matter because now the world knew that toji was, and always will be, yours.

#toji x black y/n #daddy toji #toji x y/n #toji fushiguro #toji x chubby reader #toji x black reader #toji smut #help! my pussy’s gone crazy!!!!

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