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venusmotel · 1 month ago

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“just helping mama” your husband’s out of town. again. you call his best friend toji to help with the crib. a beer turns into something else. something warm. something wrong. and when your baby monitor blinks and your phone lights up with your husband’s name his mouth is still on your breast.

cw: nsfw 18+, infidelity, lactation kink, postpartum body worship, emotional cheating, nursing (adult), guilt, soft praise, oral fixation, angst

pairing:husband’s best friend!toji fushiguro x postpartum!fem reader

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　　˚　　　　 . ★⋆.　. 　　˚　　　　*　　　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　　　　　　 ✦˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　　˚　　　　 . ★⋆.

the phone felt heavy in your hand, the screen still lit with your husband’s name, his last message short and apologetic. “sorry babe, might be stuck at the site all week. maybe call toji?” you stared at it for a long second. then you sighed and tapped the next contact down.

the line barely rang before he picked up, voice low, rough around the edges like he’d just woken up or just didn’t care to hide it.

“hey.”

“hey. it’s me.” you tried to keep your voice steady, casual, like you hadn’t already thought too hard about what calling him might look like. “i, um… i need a favor.”

a pause. then that deep, familiar chuckle rumbled through the speaker.

“michael’s not home?”

you bit the inside of your cheek.

“yeah. he’s out of town again. said to call you if i needed anything.”

“of course he did.” there was a smile in his voice. something lazy. fond. maybe something else.

“what d’you need, princess?”

“just… some furniture. the crib came in early and i can’t lift it on my own. and there’s still the dresser for the guest room.”

another pause. longer this time. then a quiet sigh.

“i’ll be there in twenty.”

you ended the call and stood still for a second, the silence rushing in thick and low around you.

you weren’t wearing anything special just an grey tee and black leggings, your hair half-pulled up, skin bare but suddenly you felt every inch of yourself too clearly.

the weight in your chest. the softness around your stomach. the lingering ache behind your knees.

you hadn’t left the house in two days. you hadn’t slept properly in weeks. and now he was coming.

toji.

michael’s best friend since they were kids. the only one who never changed, never judged, never disappeared when things got hard.

big. quiet. always half-smirking like he knew things he shouldn’t.

he was there when you and michael got married. he was there when the baby came, standing awkward in the hallway with flowers and a cheap stuffed animal, pretending he hadn’t cried a little when he held her.

he always called you “mama” now. even when michael wasn’t around. especially when he wasn’t. and you hated how it made you feel. you tidied the living room without thinking, picking up stray toys, tossing a blanket over the laundry basket, tucking the edges of your shirt tighter around your chest.

the baby monitor blinked on the table. faint white noise crackling through it.

when the knock finally came, it wasn’t loud. just firm. casual. like he knew you’d already been waiting.

you opened the door, and there he was.

bigger than you remembered, shoulders stretching the black fabric of his tee, the line of his jaw rough with stubble, eyes scanning you slowly from head to toe.

he didn’t say anything at first. just stood there with one hand braced against the frame, head tilted slightly, mouth twitching like he was trying not to smile.

“you look tired,” he said finally, voice low and almost amused.

you rolled your eyes, stepping back.

“you always know how to greet a woman, huh?”

“just sayin’. you could’ve told me you needed more than just a crib built. looks like you haven’t slept in days.”

“i haven’t.” you shut the door behind him. “you want water or something before we start?”

“beer, if you got it.”

you grabbed one from the fridge and handed it to him without looking.

he cracked it open, took a long sip, then wandered to the boxes in the corner like he belonged there.

“crib first?”

you nodded, crossing your arms over your chest, watching as he crouched easily to rip the box open, muscles flexing under the sleeves as he pulled the pieces free.

“where’s the little one?”

“asleep. upstairs.”

he grunted softly. “good. don’t need her crying while i’m trying to figure out these bullshit instructions.”

you laughed a little, leaning against the wall. “thought you were good with your hands.”

he looked up, slow.

he smirked.

“i am. want me to prove it?”

you paused. blinked. flushed immediately.

his eyes didn’t leave yours.

“relax,” he muttered, chuckling. “just fucking with you.”

but he wasn’t.

not really.

and you both knew it.

you were sitting on the kitchen counter, legs crossed loosely, the hem of your cotton shorts brushing your thighs, still a little flushed from laughing too hard. your cheeks were pink, your eyes crinkled, your fingers curled around the neck of a beer bottle you had just handed him. condensation slipped down the sides, trailing over your knuckles, leaving a little puddle between your thighs where the bottle rested as you leaned forward. toji cracked the top without a word, twisting the cap off with a sharp flick, and his forearm flexed, the veins rising beneath skin still damp from sweat. he looked good like this casual, easy, muscles stretching under the sleeves of his faded shirt, his weight slouched into your kitchen like he had always belonged here.

he took a long sip, tilting the bottle, his throat bobbing slow as he swallowed. when he pulled away, his tongue darted out to catch a drop at the corner of his mouth, and the corner of his lip twitched like he knew you were watching. maybe he did. he always seemed to know when you were.

the air was warm, thick with the quiet scent of summer dusk and the lingering trace of effort. he had just finished dragging the dresser and crib into the baby’s room, arms flexed and shirt tugged high, your baby sleeping through it all in the other room. your husband had promised to do it two weeks ago but never followed through. just like he’d promised he’d be home early tonight, and every night before that.

but it was toji who had shown up. it was always him.

the conversation had slipped into something light, almost nostalgic. dumb stories about michael in college, about how reckless he used to be, how clueless he was around girls. you laughed more than you had in weeks, your body relaxing, the tightness in your shoulders fading as your voice softened. and he watched you the entire time. his gaze never wandered, never flinched. it was steady, grounding. different than how your husband looked at you now, if he looked at all.

he leaned against the other counter, elbow propped beside the sink, bottle resting in his palm like it belonged there. “so how you holdin’ up?” he asked eventually, and it came out quiet, sincere, the kind of question people usually forgot to ask. “with everything.”

you exhaled, slow and tired. your hand brushed your hair out of your face, fingers tangling briefly. “some days are okay,” you murmured, your voice a little smaller now, “some days i feel like i’m floating above my own life watching someone else live it.”

he didn’t laugh. didn’t try to fix it. he just sipped his beer again and let the silence hang there like he was making space for it.

you stared at the label on your bottle, fingers picking at the paper. “my body’s not mine anymore. i don’t sleep. i don’t think i’ve eaten a full meal in two weeks. and everything just… hurts. my boobs, especially.” your voice cracked a little at the end, and you almost laughed to cover it up. “they’re so fucking sore. like, even the shower water stings. they’re swollen and sensitive and just, like, way too big now.”

his eyes shifted then slow and heavy, dragging from your face down to your chest and back up again. he didn’t try to hide it.

“i noticed,” he said, and it should’ve sounded cocky, but it didn’t. it was quiet, maybe even reverent. “not in a bad way. they’re just… different. rounder. fuller.”

you felt the heat crawl up your neck immediately. you laughed, half-scandalized, half-flattered, shaking your head like you could brush it off. “yeah, well. that’s what breastfeeding does. turns you into a walking vending machine.”

he smiled, lazy, lifting the bottle to his lips again. “michael’s a lucky bastard,” he muttered, but the way he said it didn’t sound like admiration. it sounded like regret.

you looked at him then, really looked, and your stomach twisted. there was something heavy in his expression. something unreadable. and for a long second neither of you spoke.

then toji tilted his head slightly, voice dropping just a little lower, just enough to press against your skin like the edge of a blade. “can i see them?”

the words settled in the air with a weight you weren’t ready for. your fingers tightened around the glass instinctively, the room too still.

he raised his hands slowly, like he was joking, like it was harmless. “just look,” he added. “not touch. nothing bad. michael doesn’t need to know. it’s not cheating if it’s just… curiosity.”

you blinked. your thighs pressed a little tighter together. “toji…”

his smile widened, soft and coaxing, like he could unravel you with just the sound of your name. “you just said they’re sore, right? i’ve never actually seen tits like that before. i mean, it’s kind of fascinating. educational, even. come on. just a peek.”

you should have said no. you should’ve told him to leave.

but your heart was pounding. your chest was flushed. and your mouth wouldn’t move.

you stared down at your shirt, at the way it clung to your body. then you looked back at him.

he was waiting.

you reached up slowly, hesitant, fingers sliding under the collar, tugging it wide. you stopped halfway, hesitating.

his voice softened, low and warm. “just for a second, mama. promise.”

you exhaled shakily and pulled the fabric down, slipping the cup of your bra over one breast.

the air felt cold against your skin. your nipple was darker now, puffy, stiff with milk and sensitivity, the heavy swell of your breast dragging slightly under its own weight. your chest rose and fell in quick, shallow breaths.

his expression shifted immediately. the smile faded. his gaze locked, dark and unblinking, and he stepped forward slowly, like something was pulling him. “fuck,” he whispered, almost to himself. “you weren’t kidding.”

you tried to laugh, but it came out breathless. “they’re ridiculous, right?”

he shook his head, eyes never leaving your chest. “no. they’re perfect. fuck, they’re…” he trailed off, jaw clenched. “they’re real.”

the silence stretched. you swallowed hard. “they’re heavy too. sometimes it just feels like my whole body’s dragging me down.”

his brows pulled together slightly. “can i… just feel it? not in a weird way. just i wanna know how heavy they really are.”

your breath caught in your throat. you looked at him, hesitated, heart thudding.

“just a little,” you whispered.

his palm was warm when it cupped you. fingers spread wide, curling under the fullness of your breast, cradling it gently like he was afraid to break it. his thumb brushed slowly across the curve, just under your nipple, and he groaned, the sound low and aching.

“jesus christ,” he muttered, breath hot against your cheek. “you’re so fucking soft. i didn’t think…” he squeezed gently, almost experimentally, testing the weight like he was learning you with every inch. “fuck. no one makes girls like you anymore.”

you exhaled, eyes fluttering closed for a second.

your fingers curled tighter in his shirt, cotton bunching in your fists, the fabric warm from the heat of his chest. you could feel his breath fanning across your face, slow and steady, the kind of calm that made your stomach twist because it didn’t match the way your heart was pounding. he hadn’t moved since he touched you. his palm still cupped around your swollen breast, thumb resting just under the curve, unmoving now, like he was afraid that if he shifted, the whole moment would collapse.

you were so close you could smell him, something clean under the musk, beer still lingering faint on his breath. his head dipped slightly, just a tilt, just enough that his nose brushed yours. your lips parted on instinct, a breath catching there, your pulse fluttering high in your throat like it wanted to climb out of your skin.

toji’s hand slid up from your chest, slow and deliberate, fingers grazing your collarbone as he cupped your jaw instead, thumb brushing soft across your cheek, not pushing. not pulling. just holding you there.

you could’ve pulled back.

you should’ve pulled back.

but you didn’t.

his lips met yours without warning just a breath between, just a shift, and then his mouth was on yours. warm. sure. devastating. there was no hesitation, no apology, no awkward stumble like you’d expected. he kissed you like he knew you already, like he had waited a long time to do this and wasn’t going to waste it now. his lips pressed firm, slow, coaxing yours open with just the barest pull, his thumb still stroking gently across your cheek like he was trying to memorize the way your skin felt while you unraveled for him.

your eyes fluttered shut. your grip in his shirt tightened. you made a small noise, soft, almost surprised at how much you felt it. like your chest cracked open and something raw was pouring out into his mouth. he didn’t push further. didn’t rush. his hand stayed on your cheek, steady and grounding, the kiss deepening only when you leaned into it, mouth parting wider for him, breath hitching when his tongue brushed yours.

you weren’t thinking anymore.

you weren’t anywhere except here, in the heat between his hands, in the silence between your gasps.

his lips were still on yours when his hand slipped around your waist, warm and steady, pulling you forward like it was the most natural thing in the world. he didn’t stop to ask, didn’t give you time to think just backed up a step, dragged the chair out from the counter, and eased down into it, tugging you into his lap like you belonged there.

you gasped softly when your thighs spread across his, your bare legs stretching over the denim of his jeans, his thick palm sliding low over your spine to steady you. your chest was pressed to his now, soft and full, one breast still pulled from your bra, skin flushed and exposed, your nipple grazed by the rough fabric of his shirt. your fingers curled into the collar instinctively, but he caught your wrist before you could cover yourself again.

“nah,” he whispered, eyes hooded, voice thick. “no hiding. not from me.”

you didn’t speak. couldn’t. your lips were still tingling, your thighs trembling slightly from where he held you firm. and then his hand slid back up, cupping your breast again, slower this time, more reverent, his thumb brushing the heavy swell with something close to awe. you felt your breath catch when he leaned in, dragging his lips over the curve, warm and soft, pressing gentle kisses along the top like it was something sacred.

“mama,” he murmured, his voice cracked, almost too soft to hear. “look at you.”

you blinked, your lashes damp, head tipping slightly as you looked down at him. he had his face buried against your chest now, kissing slowly, nuzzling the side, one arm wrapped low around your waist. the other hand slid to your belly, and you tensed, but he just rubbed it palming it gently, dragging his fingers over the curve, over the soft skin that stretched loose and warm beneath your shirt, down over the faint ridges of your stretch marks.

“so fuckin’ beautiful,” he murmured, mouth trailing kisses lower. “this belly… carried your baby. stretched open for her. you did that, mama. you gave life.” he kissed the space just below your breast, tongue flicking out to taste the sweat there, breathing heavier now. “your skin’s so soft. so warm. made to be touched.”

your hand slipped into his hair almost without thinking. you sighed, long and low, your fingers curling gently at the nape of his neck, rubbing slow. he groaned into your chest at the touch, his mouth open now, dragging hot against the underside of your breast as he shifted, adjusting your weight in his lap, tugging your legs wider so he could keep you steady.

“baby,” he breathed, “you don’t even know what you do to me.”

he leaned in again, lips closing around your nipple, soft and aching and sore. you gasped when his mouth sucked gently, the pressure sending a shiver down your spine. your milk beaded at the tip almost immediately, and his tongue lapped it up without hesitation, the sound wet and low between your bodies.

you whimpered. not from pain. from the overwhelming warmth of it. the relief. the worship.

toji moaned low in his chest, sucking deeper now, hand still rubbing your stomach, the other slipping under your thigh to grip it tighter, to rock you slightly in his lap as he nursed.

“so sweet,” he muttered between sucks. “so fuckin’ sweet, mama. like you were made for this.”

you giggled quietly, the sound light and breathless, still rubbing his hair, thumb brushing over the shell of his ear. “feels nice,” you whispered, eyes fluttering. “you’re helping.”

“mm,” he hummed against your breast, sucking a little harder now. “told you i would. i’ll help you anytime, baby. anything for my girl.”

he didn’t stop. he nursed slow and deep, tongue flicking over your nipple between sucks, palm splayed hot across your soft belly, fingers tracing the lines the baby left behind. your milk spilled into his mouth and he swallowed it down like it was the only thing he ever wanted, eyes fluttered shut, his breathing growing heavier.

your hips were grinding slightly now, unintentionally, the rhythm lazy, soft, seeking comfort in the pressure of his thigh beneath you. you felt safe like this, warm, loved, full, your head tilted back slightly as your fingers stroked through his hair, giggling softly when he murmured another praise against your chest.

“mama,” he said again, lips glossy with milk, “so fuckin’ perfect.”

the phone rang.

the shrill sound cut through the warmth like ice water down your spine.

you froze.

his mouth paused against your skin, your nipple still swollen and wet against his lips.

you looked down.

the name flashing across the counter glowed sharp and cruel.

michael.

your husband.

toji didn’t move.

your breath caught in your throat.

the guilt hit like a fist.

and you were still in his lap, bare, leaking, adored.

and now, completely ruined.

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this one is really close to my heart. i’ve been thinking a lot.

i hope it wrecked you in the best way. thank you for reading, and if you felt something anything i’d love to hear it.💌

current toji taglist:

@getoisinnocent

this is where i keep track of everyone who wants to be tagged in my toji filth. if you want in just send me an ask, comment, or in my inbox.💌

-venusmotel 💌

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kazutora-kurokawa · 1 year ago

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Heyy! I hope you have a nice day :)

So it's my first time requesting something and im a bit embarrassed about my kink. So my kink is spanking so maybe poly hanmy x fem reader x kisaki where the reader has also a spanking kink but is too shy to tell them so on a random day she ask them to talk but cant really find the words and just maybe grab a hairbrush and lays themself over kisakis lap and gives him the hairbrush but hanma knew what she wanned and make her say it like "oh honey what do ya want hmm~~" and than kisaki start spanking her until her ass is deep red. (aftercare ofc with a bath and putting cream on her sore ass) 🫶

HanKisa x Shy!Reader w/ Spanking Kink

♡ NSFW, fem reader, reader wears a skirt, Hanma is a tease, lowkey service dom!Kisaki, this happens in your living room if you even care lol, spanking with a hair brush (plastic or wood, it's not specified), husbands!HanKisa, pet names (bunny, darling), fluffy aftercare ♡

note: thanks for requesting anon 🩷 love me some HanKisa 😮‍💨

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Some things were hard to put into words, so you decided to not say anything and let your actions speak for you. And that would've worked fine, if your husbands weren't absolute tools sometimes. As you laid across Kisaki's lap and handed him your hairbrush, he had a perplexed look on his face.

"What's the matter darling? Need something?"

All you could do was nod shyly, thinking that he'd pick up on what you wanted. But he was honestly twice as confused as before.

"Do you need me to brush your hair? Why do I need a brush?...Am I supposed to be brushing my hair? Shuji's hair?"

Per usual, Kisaki was overthinking things. He tended to do this a lot, but it was a good thing that Hanma was around to figure out your little game of charades. He let out a deep chuckle at the scene in front of him, running his fingers through his hair. He knew exactly what you wanted, but he wanted to hear you say it first.

"Aww bunny, what d'ya need from us, huh? Be a big girl and use your words."

You could feel your face heating up as you mumbled an incoherent sentence.

"Speak up darling, we can't hear you."

"I..I want you to spank me.."

Hanma's face lit up, his smirk growing wide as he looked at the brush in Kisaki's hand.

"Well Kisaki, go on. Give bunny what she wants ♡"

Kisaki pulled your skirt up and gripped the brush handle tighter before bringing the flat back of the brush down on your behind, the loud smacks of the brush hitting your skin echoing in the room. Your skin was a deep shade of red by the time he was done, your ass sore and aching.

"Aww, you did so good for us bunny, pretty ass is so red~"

Hanma's hand glided gently over the curve of your ass, making sure not to put too much pressure on it.

"You did real good darling," Kisaki sits his hand on your back, running his thumb over your spine. "Shuji, go run our pretty wife a bath."

Hanma nods and makes his way to the bathroom, running you a nice warm bath and pouring some bubble bath into the water along with some essential oils. He comes back into the living room and lifts you up from Kisaki's lap, carefully carrying you into the bathroom and sitting you in the tub. The two of them spent the rest of the night pampering you, smothering you in kisses and soft touches. As you laid between the both of them, they took turns massaging your ass until you fell asleep, feeling extra grateful for you and your little kink.

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Taglist

@arlerts-angel @i-literally-cant-with-this @trevengersprincess @giugiette @katkusuo @happy-trenchcoated-impala @drunkcheesecake @darkstarlight82 @reiners-milkbiddies @manji-hoe @southside-otaku @xxchthonicreaturexx

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers fanfiction #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers fluff #hanma x reader #kisaki x reader #hanma smut #kisaki smut #hanma fluff #kisaki fluff #Hankisa go brrrr 🫠#semi related but I have a pretty red hairbrush that's plastic and sparkly ✨ so that's what was in my mind when I was writing this lol #take a shot every time I say brush lmao #I feel like Kisaki would pronounce every letter in darling and put emphasis on the g 😭#do y'all want domestic HanKisa headcanons? because I got a few in my head and I'm itching to share them #this felt more fluff than smut and I'm fine with that 🤭 I think I really needed some fluff this week #last tag I swear lol but like...butt massages are kinda underrated ngl

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