heart is racing day and night for you.

24 yrs old CHAN BIASSS

[christopherbangme97]

3,4 - first time having sex

6 - head

8 - shower, ppl around

12 - toy around dick

14 - pretending to be hurt at the tournament t

15 - first kiss

19 - loosen himself fup

20 - mirror, dirty talk 🫦

20b- break day pool

44 - cutesy sex

Read Jinx - Chapter 67 | MangaBuddy

39,66

[christopherbangme97]

Hentai.

XVIDEOS Hentai. free

Hentai

XVIDEOS Hentai free

[tonycries]

Older - N.K.

Synopsis. Your duties as a nanny are simple: pick Itadori Yuji up from elementary school, bathe him, feed him his veggies, and take care of him until his hot blond dad gets home. It doesn’t include something like…spending Valentine’s Day with the overworked, overstressed, absolute DlLF Nanami Kento. Does it? Does it?

Pairing. Nanami Kento x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem!reader, older!Nanami, age gap, DlLF!Nanami, reader is in early 20’s, Nanami is in 30’s, he’s overworked and STRESSED, down bad!Nanami, desperation, Valentine’s Day, pùssydrùnk Nanami, oraI (fem rec.), p talking, p sIapping, punishments, dégrading but also soft Nanami, spítting, bíting, fíngering, yearning, teaching you, fírst times (yours), Iessons, talking you through it, he’s stern, he’s BIG, BRÉEDlNG BRÉEDlNG BRÉEDlNG, matíng presses, manhandIing, cervíx smoochin, overstím, vírginíty loss (yours), corruption, he’s feraI, DÚMBIFlCATION, calling you ‘momma’, mentions of kids, implied marathon, HEADLÓCKS, creampíes, cúmpIay, Yuji cameos, Papamin, HAPPY ENDING, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 15.7k

A/N. BOO! SURPRISE VALENTINE’S DAY POST?! HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY BABYGIRLS <33

Nanami can’t help but sigh—“One more meeting and I’m quitting.”

Even though he knows he wouldn’t.

Those boxed-in, white-collar jobs felt just as lukewarm to quit as they were to work. One learns to numb oneself to the constant drone and sputter of the office, the ceaseless fury of a microwave that wouldn’t heat, and the wail of a printer printing listlessly furlong - too far behind its service date. So was there even a point?

That stupid screech followed him even out of the office: one could ignore the cracks and jolts of joints, but that doesn’t actually stop the noise.

He feels a headache coming on.

But Nanami can’t lie- the pay wasn’t all too bad. Besides, the extra hours helped him pay for the nanny he’d recently hired for Yuji—speaking of, he could hear you shuffling about inside.

His key’s just reaching for the door before it swings wide open.

“Welcome home—!”

And Nanami Kento can’t understand that strange, sweet flutter in his heart.

One of his hands jerks upwards- right to the pounding space above his heart. He knows he must look a bit of a sight right now - a grown man pawing at his chest - and part of him wonders whether this was all the all-nighters taking a toll on him. About time.

But another part of him wonders whether he should consult a cardiologist.

Also about time.

Because it’s been like this ever since he hired you - the vetting process for finding a nanny had been a long and tedious one. And Nanami had rejected (he’s sure) at least fifty different candidates, had been blocked by five different agencies, before he finally landed on you. Either they’d been too strict, or too lenient, or too new, or simply not cut out to handle the benevolent whirlwind that was his adopted son.

The poor man had been on the verge of giving up.

In fact, he was two paragraphs into an email to HR whilst stress-eating a homemade Danish pastry and wondering whether buying his boss flowers would be overkill- when it happened. God, could this day get any worse? First his manager gives him a ton of work just before he clocked off, certainly not in his list of responsibilities, then he’d burned those damn Danish pastries, then one of the nannies he’d interviewed had nearly passed out at the sheer energy Yuji had.

He’d been working more and more these days. And Nanami needed just a few more months - a few more nights putting in overtime before he could-

It was then that the doorbell had rang.

Ba-dump! 

He opened the door tentatively, hoping that it wasn’t yet another ambush by a salesperson - each with their bright plastic garbage, and their even brighter smiles. But what he’d been met with instead wasn’t one of those visitors he dreaded…not in the very least. It was you—

And your explanation that you were here because of Shoko.

“Erm- she told me that you were looking for a nanny?” You flashed your conversation with Nanami’s clinical friend as proof. He flickered his gaze over to the screen but his eyes remained unreading—he remembers turning them back over to you.

Blinking at the vision of you.

And you’d slightly jolted at the intensity in them.

Digging through your pin-covered bag, “I also have my CV in here…somewhere.” He watched as you only grew more and more frustrated as that CV evaded you- “It really should be somewhere- give me one second-”

“That’s alri-”

But instead of your CV, your bag had poured out notes and pens in return. So much of it that Nanami marvelled at just how much fit inside that humble satchel. They dropped to the floor and you dived to pick them up, wincing. “I’m so- sorry-”

“Let me.” Crouching down in front of you, Nanami’s much-larger hands had had no trouble scooping all those papers up. In an instant he had them aligned neatly and handed to you. Prim. Proper.

By the tie still ‘round his neck, you guessed he’d just come home from work - and little did you know he’d also just finished four failed interviews for the position of nanny - yet he didn’t have a single blond hair out of line. They were slicked-back and handsome in a way you’d seen only in old movie stars. You thought you saw a few strands of silver.

Lines at the edges of his eyes. That tired strength about him.

It was hard to not ogle him.

Your fingertips brushed his rougher ones as you took the papers from him. “Thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure.” The older man peered down at you—so intense that you could almost feel yourself sinking into the mediocre polyester carpet lining the apartment hallway. Neither of you made a move to get up. “I want to ask you about your availability.”

You’d jumped slightly. “You…you actually want to hire me after that- I mean!”

“Should I not?” And what was this? Nanami Kento had to stifle a chuckle at that? How curious…it must’ve been the work day getting to him at that point- yes. He was feeling a little delirious.

“I mean- please do…”

He’d looked away with a slight smile once you reached into the depths of your bag once more. This time, you didn’t make it erupt in scribbled notes- instead you were pulling out a printed table that looked to be a time table. “Sorry I just- printing makes it easier for me to remember…sometimes.” You explained, “I don’t have any lectures on Wednesday and Friday- and the ones I have on the rest of the weekdays are rather flexible so—”

A college student!

Nanami’s jaw had dropped then.

He knew you looked young but-

A college student?!

“Wait a minute…” One of his hands twitched, almost as if to beckon that time table to himself and make sure.

But then you nodded, “I first met Shoko-san during a medical conference she gave at the university, and she told me you worked late on weekdays. I should be free in the evenings then, but will you be working late on the weekends as well? Because I do have this one professor that really-”

Nanami didn’t know how on Earth the topic of him would’ve even cropped up in your conversations- but he needed to end this.

Now.

Listen. It wasn’t that you seemed like a bad kid- you seemed great, even! But Nanami himself was well into his thirties with absolutely zero idea on balancing Yuji and his work life. So he really didn’t want to burden someone over a decade younger than him with-

“Papa?”

The sweetest, sleepiest voice echoed from inside.

He doesn’t even have to turn his head to know that Itadori was swaying, all decked-out in his Spiderman pajamas, at the end of the hallway. Likely having gotten out for water or because of the ruckus caused outside. He blinked his sluggish eyes open and ogled the two of you.

Nanami doesn’t know why- but he shoots up to a stand. Almost as if he was caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to.

You followed.

Which one of you three was the responsible parent here, by the way?

His parched mouth opened to—what? There was nothing to explain. 

It was true that Nanami hadn’t had the time to even stop and think about dating or relationships in the time since he’d adopted Yuji. Not even if he wanted to. And, admittedly, he did have dreams of getting married one day - he watched all those sappy TV shows, alright? He knew how it felt.

He wanted to walk beside someone to that shrine. He wanted to have a few more kids, to give Yuji a bigger family than this. He wanted to quit his dead-end job and move out with his family to a bigger house in the countryside. 

But none of that was as important as his son right now.

However, he knew that Yuji saw all those happy couples during pick-up at the elementary school- and his boy was sweet. The sweetest, actually. Nanami knew that Yuji wouldn’t say a single thing about him being the only exhausted father to arrive all alone. Day after day.

The two of them in their lonesome.

His sweet boy would beam the biggest smile nevertheless. 

But kids were smarter than adults gave them credit for. Doesn’t he feel that loneliness, too? 

Perhaps that was why Yuji ran up to you in an instant.

Right past his haggard father and only towards you - all previous sleepiness now gone - he reached up towards the pretty stranger with the pretty pin-covered bag.

Stubby finger pointing up at a particularly red one—“Do you like Spwiderman, too?”

“Of course.” Leaning down, you smiled warmly at the boy. His hair was a rose-colored mess that stuck up at all odd angles. “And my spidey senses are telling me that a certain someone does, too?”

He gasped, “That’s me!”

Before Nanami knows it, you were held hostage and dragged inside by a particularly overactive pink-haired boy. Shown all around the apartment as part of your tour to be shown-off Yuji’s prized Spiderman-themed bedroom. 

And unbeknownst to him - against that lock-and-key and jaded guard - you’d walked into Nanami Kento’s cozy Tokyo apartment (and the strange cavity in his chest that softened whenever you were around).

He sighed.

A college student!

Still, Nanami can’t deny that it’s been a delight having you around.

Despite your packed schedule and your note-filled bag, you were always there to greet him when he came home. Without fail. Either tapping away at some assignment due before midnight, or humming to yourself as you wiped down the kitchen counters—last minute fluffy pancake emergency, he thinks of those nights.

Even though it’d been about eight months since your initial meeting, it’s almost fearsome how easily he’d gotten used to the routine of it all.

Something that should be so mundane - he flips each moment through his mind over and over again until it felt like they made up the grooves of his brain itself. The gyri and the sulci. Or so he’d heard you muttering to yourself as you studied one night. 

He’s studied, too. He’s memorized how you’d open the door for him, with a smile across your face and a finger to your lips- telling the older man to be quiet as he shook off his shoes. He’s memorized how you’d never fail to tell him about the leftovers in the fridge as you reached for your satchel. He’s memorized how you’d hesitate to meet his gaze- but smile the brightest once you do, and how you’d linger at the doorstep telling him about Yuji’s day.

Nanami has memorized how it made some dust-covered part of his heart stir. Blinking away the exhaustion of the day. 

Nanami Kento has never felt more invigorated than he is during those sparse few minutes that he caught up with you at the end of the night. Voices low, like neither of you wanted to interrupt a sleeping thing—Yuji, yes. But something else, too.

He gets the feeling that it’d feel like this even if you weren’t around as a job. If perhaps the two of you had met- the same age, at the same university.

Maybe in-between the sluggish hours of study sessions where you help him with some particularly hard question. Maybe in the library where he helps you reach some dusty ol’ book from the topmost shelf.

Times like this, he allows himself to dream.

You’d make the best wife.

You were the best nanny he could’ve ever chosen.

But one always has to wake up to one’s alarm. He sets his alarms himself.

“Come in.” Nanami tells you as he shrugs off his coat at the entrance. He watches as you stop in your tracks at the doorway, fiddling with your familiar pin-draped bag. “I’m just about to fire up some brownies for tomorrow.”

You pause.

“I-if it’s not too late and you don’t have any classes early tomorrow or-”

“I’d skip all my classes for some of your brownies.”

He lets out a breath of relief as you start walking back from the doorway. “Please don’t.”

It takes a little less than half an hour for the brownies to bake until they are crisp on the top and perfectly gooey in the middle. Layers of chocolate that are only sweetened by the conversation that you brought into Nanami Kento’s humble kitchen. 

He listens as you talk about your day, about that professor that’d been out to get you, about that exam you were sure you’d fail (he knows you won’t in the end). Only adding brief hums of affirmation and nods as the older man sweeps through his counters, broad back turned to you, muscles flexing against his office shirt as he whipped up a hot fudge as well as a strawberry sauce for you to add to your brownies.

“—and you’d never guess what Yuji told me today.” Tonight you seem a little more breathless than usual. Stuttering out your thank-yous as he brings out the tray from the oven and cuts out the first piece for you.

“Blow on it. It’s hot.” Nanami leans over the other side of the kitchen island. He watches as your pretty lips fall into a soft circle, “What were you saying, my dear?”

“Well-” You dart your gaze around the rest of the empty apartment. “You know how it’s Valentine’s Day tomorrow, Nanami-san?”

Nanami runs a hand through his silver-streaked hair. Smoothing it down. He knows how his son can be, and he has to bite back the grin that threatens to spread across his face. “Mhm?”

“Yuji here seems to think that- well…” Bringing a hand up to your lips, fingertips slightly shaking. The brownie was just amazing. “He seems to think that Valentine’s Day is a bit like Christmas, you see. And so the entire day he wouldn’t stop making a list for Cupid.”

Now that piques his interest particularly- Nanami was never a man to skimp out whenever his loved one wanted something. “Oh, is that so? And what does he ask from this ah- Cupid?”

“That is- I don’t even know if this is appropriate for me to say but…” Looking around one last time. “But it seems Yuji is under the impression that we are together.”

“Oh.”

“Together together.”

“Oh.” He can’t help but inch just a little closer- a strange weight in his stomach. Not entirely unpleasant. “I see.”

You’re mustering up a little more courage, “And it seems that what Yuji wants the most this Valentine’s is…for us to get married. Spiderman-themed wedding, he says.” Watching as Nanami’s eyes slightly widen. “B-but of course, I told him that that might not exactly be in erm- Cupid’s range of power! He kept insisting however-”

He looks at you silently as you rub your temples.

“Because then he said a little brother or sister would be fine, too…” Was it time for the conversation about the birds and the bees already? Instead of storks, Yuji relies on Cupid?!

Nanami follows suit, running a hand through the silver streaks in his hair. “Is that so?” He sighs. “I shall have a little talk with him about asking…immoderate requests of Cupid.”

“He’s a sweet boy. Just a little confused.” You smile sheepishly. “Though I can’t really blame him- my friends think we’re together, too.”

Just an inch closer. “I see.”

And Nanami feels your breathing go heavy- enveloped in the hint of his cologne, the sweetness of the brownies, the musk of something that was entirely him. “I-it’s silly, isn’t it…”

He stares at you intently, reading your every reaction. “Quite.” Pupils flickering down your face. Just another inch closer—you wonder how much more space was left, and what you wanted to do with it. “I’m far too old for you, my dear.”

Your lips part-

The clock strikes eleven.

Both of you startle as if shocked with electricity- “I-I really should-”

“Yes, I understand-”

“The brownies were amazing-”

“Please, take this.” He pushes a bag topped with that delicacy and more of whatever topping you liked into your hands.

“Thank you so much.” You rush out breathlessly, other hand snatching your bag from the counter. “Night, Nanami-san—!”

“Goodnight, my dear.”

“And thank you for the brownies!”

The door shuts—with a lingering creak and ebb of your smile behind it. And soon enough Nanami finds himself lumbering in the direction of Yuji’s bedroom.

It’s not long before he stands before the parade of red and blue and masked superheroes: personnel stationed all to take care of the boy with a tuft of pink hair. His precious treasure. Nestled in the middle of his car-shaped bed. 

A small bedside light traces a glow across his chubby cheeks.

As he does every night, Nanami walks up to the little boy and crouches down beside the bed. Forearms rested upon the soft mattress, face rested upon his forearms- it was always around this time that Yuji would stir and look up at his father.

“Papa…” He sleepily mumbles. Rubbing his sleep-swollen eyes, “Gone?”

“Mhm.” Nanami nods. “Left just now, sunshine.”

“Awww, man—” Yuji seems to deflate- but that only pushes him deeper into the puffy pillows. Making him yawn so wide that it makes the older man chuckle. “I really like her, papa.”

His father pauses before he answers. “I like her, too, Yuji.”

“No, but- I really like her. You know, she’s my best friend along with Kugisaki and Fushiguro and you-”

Nanami starts tickling the boy on his sides until he bursts into peels of laughter. “Really, huh?”

Through giggles, he nods. Before stretching his arms above his head and falling back onto the comfy bed- perhaps he was still dreaming. “Why can’t we keep her, papa?”

“We can’t just keep people, Yuji.” Nanami has to hide his own smile. He knows he should mention the thing about Cupid right now, but he just can’t bring himself to do it. Maybe tomorrow…

“Yes, but…”

“I know, I know.” Nanami pushes his face deeper into his strong forearms. Sometimes, he still felt much like a kid himself. “I get it.”

.

.

.

The next morning, Yuji still wasn’t giving up.

“Papa, it’s Valentine’s Day!”

Papa was about to burst a blood vessel.

He’d chattered on and on about Valentine’s Day as Nanami shuffled him out of bed, he’d announced what chocolates were the best according to his very distinguished five-year-old palate as Nanami helped him brush his teeth—he’d even turned his nose up at the heart-shaped scones that Nanami had made for breakfast.

“Papa, you’re gonna hafta make better hearts than this if you want to marry-”

“Yuji, sunshine, we’re going to be late.” 

Nanami Kento was barely a match for his son. And it’s with something akin to relief - like the exhausted sigh of a stranded man, finally coming across the silhouette of a rescue boat in the bleak horizon - that he manages to hurry the boy into finishing his breakfast. Tuggin’ on his Spiderman backpack, Nanami held Yuji’s hand as they exited the apartment.

Today wasn’t even a school day.

It wasn’t even a school day! And yet the teacher wanted all students in for a short assembly and some chocolate party in class. Nanami would be damned if he didn’t let his son enjoy these small pleasures. 

The elementary school that Yuji attended was only a short distance away from the apartment- usually they’d just make the trip by foot. During those ten minutes it’d become routine for the little boy to jabber away about whatever came to his mind.

How unfortunate for Nanami Kento today that, today, all Yuji could think about was you—

Not because Nanami wasn’t doing much the same- but because he didn’t like thinking of himself as doing much the same. Even though he knew. Query: if both father and son couldn’t get you off their minds, then which one of the two was going to use it?

The older man shakes his head just a little as Yuji suggests a Spiderman wedding cake again—he disagrees with both the cake and…the wedding. Right?

But the boy catches the movement and pouts-

“Why don’t you want to tell her, papa?”

They’re stopping at a red light. Nanami didn’t want to think about how those miniscule bulbs had been programmed to flicker in the shape of a heart today, instead of the usual pedestrian walking. What an apt metaphor for his life, no? Nanami Kento wanted to find something wrong in the traffic light - in the visibility, the practicality, the color - but he couldn’t. 

In fact, it was rather pretty. 

The crossing threatened to bubble over with salarymen and salarywomen and groups of families each hoping to be the first, the fastest, to jump the road. He tugs both himself and Yuji more towards the back where they were well out of the way of whizzing cars. Is it just him or were there more wedding cars than usual today?

“Tell her what? To marry me?” He absent-mindedly answers, “What did I say about no forced marriages, Yuji?”

“No.” He lightly stomps his feet. Making the blond man look down- “I mean why don’t you tell her that you like her, papa?”

And Nanami can’t help but look around like a caught teenager. “You- you can’t just say those things, sunshine! What if she’s heading to class and nearby…”

“But you told me you did last night?” Yuji answers.

Which, fair. And it leaves Nanami slightly at a loss for words. “I…”

“But why can’t you tell her?” The child nods sagely to himself, “S’like when I broke Fushiguro’s red crayon- and I told him. Don’t you always tell me not to lie, papa?”

“That’s…true.” His father hesitates. “But that’s different from-”

“But anyway- that’s why I asked Cupid.” Yuji hums. Content. “You’re a scwaredy-cat, papa, but I asked Cupid for you. Like Santa. And Santa always gives me what I ask for.”

One day, Nanami will consider telling him that Santa had to work a month overtime to get him that car bed—happily however. But that day’s not today. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” He looks up at his father with wide, innocent eyes. “And I also asked Cupid for a bwother- maybe this year I should ask Santa, too.”

“Oh.”

“Do you think Cupid will make my wishes come true, papa?”

“I’m…afraid I can’t be sure, sunshine.”

The light turns green.

And Nanami’s the first to step out onto the road.

From here, even the crosswalk seemed to twist and turn into the shapes of hearts.

Along the rest of the way to his elementary school, Yuji tugs on Nanami’s coat and asks him for his phone—“Alright, but no games before school, Yuji.”

“Not playing games!”

And he didn’t think much of it.

Not until Nanami was on the subway heading to work, about to shoot a phone call to one of the contractors he’d be working with today- and he finds Shoko’s name in his call log.

Outgoing call → Shoko [8:01AM]

Lasted three minutes.

How strange. Nanami doesn’t remember calling his friend at any point today - it must’ve been Yuji during his walk to school. 

A mistake?

How strange, indeed…

But to be quite honest, Nanami doesn’t get the time to ponder upon this happening too deeply. The very second he’d considered clicking on that name himself and asking Shoko- the train had slid to a halt at his station.

Then came the chaos of the office: it seems that one of the interns had forgotten to fax a file yesterday. And Nanami had five angry clients on the phone before 9:00AM, one presentation to lead before 10:00AM, a few more angry clients just after the meeting, and a few more contracts to type up and edit before 12:00AM. Those utterly gaudy pink decorations hung about the room didn’t do anything to help with his oncoming headache.

Everyone in the office knew not to wish him today.

By the time that the overworked man was free for lunch, it was close to 2:00PM. His joints pop as he stretches his arms above his head, flickering a look at the clock above.

It was almost time for Yuji to be let out. Nanami knew you’d be humming to yourself as you walked to his school - and if his son was there, he’d join in, too.

At risk of sounding like a creep, he admits that he’s often listened to the low drift of your voice as you walked out of his apartment. It would start up once he shut that door. And he often stood there - on the other end - until it disappeared. Along with the sound of your footsteps.

His house always seemed smaller then.

Shaking his head free of such thoughts, Nanami stands and walks out of his department, wondering what he’ll have for lunch today. This usually wasn’t a problem with him, but this morning he’d been rather a bit…frazzled. So to say.

All those questions and ‘requests’ that Yuji had left him with just barely enough rationality to scrounge up something for the boy. As for himself, he was meandering through the busy streets of Tokyo - tarmac carpets flying by at a pace faster than he ever seemed to be able to. How was it possible for something inanimate to soar, to race, to live more than he did? Was it always built this way or was he one of the unlucky few?

He wonders which category you’d fall into.

That cheap ramen shop down the street wasn’t too bad - their broth was so good that Nanami was almost able to ignore the sappy love songs crooned from their battered radio. They had a special deal going: 80% off for all couples on Valentine’s Day! All ribbons and glitter. All special pink desserts and lovers holding hands. All love…love and a happy elderly couple behind the counter - the owners, it seems.

It was quaint- cute. The type of place he thinks you might like.

As he was walking back to the office, it seemed as though the city was fit to brim with similar sentiments. 

Flower shops bursting with bouquets like carnivorous sunsets, bleeding hearts and ruby-red roses. Candy shops with something sweet for every color of the rainbow—and more covert advertisements for more…adult indulgences. Sex shops that Nanami had to speed-walk past because of how full and flush they were. Ripe with Valentine’s Day.

Nanami Kento might try to ignore what today is, but the world sure as hell wouldn’t let him forget.

Once he finally runs back to his cubicle- he ducks his head and focuses his eyes solely on the computer screen. He hopes no one comments on the numerous glitzy bags beside him.

.

.

.

“What the hell are you doing in my apartment?”

“Y’know- most people would say—‘Wow, it’s so nice to see you. Now I should totally stop brushing off your invites for drinks. Thank you for being such a kind and respectful and understanding friend, Ieri Shoko.’” The woman in question stretches languorously on top of the couch, her test tube-patterned socks dangling from the other side. “And you’re welcome, by the way!”

Nanami raises one hand in front of him- almost as if to pause the scene entirely. He closes his eyes—when he opens them, he hopes that this had all been a bad dream and he’ll wake up to his glaring computer screen.

He opens them.

Nope- still real.

“Let me rephrase- what the hell have you done to my apartment?”

Shoko gets off the couch and gestures at the apartment like a magician showing off a trick. “Ta-da!” At all the yellow candles that cast miniature sunrises where they wept, at the music that crept sensually from some mysterious corner of the room, at the humble dining table that now looked like it came out of a Times’ 10 Best Spots To Take Your Lover for Valentine’s Day. 

Nanami’s stern lips part as he takes in the silver-covered dishes on top, on top of some white cloth—was that his goddamn blanket?!

“Oh c’mon-” Shoko rolls her eyes. “Don’t act so surprised, I see the bouquet in your hands. You obviously planned something of the sort.”

He forgot about that damn thing. Nearly dropping those flowers in his haste to hide it behind his broad back, though there was really no use - he simply couldn’t stand Shoko’s laughing eyes any longer. “Th-this was for Yuji.”

“I see the smaller bouquet in the bag.” She points out. Almost empathetically, Shoko sighs. “You really aren’t slick, Kento.”

“This isn’t- this is just—” But the longer she smirks at him, the less he seems to have an answer. Soon enough, he’s bringing out that massive bouquet from behind him and letting his friend fawn over the thing.

“Wow, she’s really going to love this-”

“It’s called being nice, by the way!” Nanami answers, belatedly.

The look Shoko gives him is enough to make him click his mouth shut.

“I hope you know that I bought one to give you tomorrow…I’m throwing it out now.” Because no matter how much Nanami denied it, today was about love. Parental. Platonic. Even the love that he could never have. As Shoko rummages through the bag with an excited squeak, he drawls on. “Where even is she, by the way? What have you done to her?”

“Hm? Oh, Yuji called me this morning. Thank you for these, by the way.” Shoko stands with a beautiful yellow rose and purple zinnia bouquet in her arms. She sniffs at the sweet fragrance- “Yuji called me asking whether he should leave out cookies for Cupid just like he does with Santa. It seems he wanted Cupid to bring us a wedding, and guess what? I wanted Cupid to bring us a wedding.” Her face breaks out into a smug smile - the one he’s only seen when she used to cheat through biochemistry exams without anyone ever knowing. “So we called up your darling nanny and let her know that her schedule’s changed for today- then Yuji and I did a little sprucing up in here.”

“Sprucing up…”

She turns around to admire her work, “Honestly, Kento, if I knew that you didn’t have a romantic bone in your body then I’d have dissected you-‘

“Papa!”

Spared from hearing whatever gory plans that Shoko had for him by the excited yelp of his son—Nanami hears his footsteps before he sees him. He feels the impact before he sees him.

Yuji’s running down the hallway and launching himself at his father at full speed- “Papa, you’re home!”

“That I am, sunshine.” Nanami smiles down at the boy. “How was your day? I have something for you.”

“For me?” Tufts of pink curls bobbing as he cocks his head, following his father’s movements as Nanami crouches down and reaches into one of the bags. Before breaking out into the most brilliant smile at the sight of the flowers. “Woah- they’re so pretty—! Thank you.”

Crushing the bouquet of pink carnations and hydrangea to his chest, he wraps his arms around Nanami’s shoulders and hugs him.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, papa. I’ve got a gift for you, too-” Breaking away, Yuji’s throwing an arm out towards the room at large. “Auntie Shoko said this was how you bring Cupid! And we also tried to make those heart-shaped cupcakes you make, but it tasted like tar so…”

“That’s perfectly alright, Yuji.” He swipes at a smear of icing still on the boy’s face. “We can learn together on my next day off, right?”

“Right!” Yuji jumps in excitement. “And after your wedding today-‘

“Yuji…”

“And right on time.” Shoko’s voice permeates the room- right alongside the sharp fwip! of the window shutters closing. She turns away from the glass and pushes off from her station. “C’mon Yuji, now the plan is a-go! Go! Go!”

“Aye-aye!” With a chubby hand raised in salute—Yuji wastes no time giving his father a final hug. “Bye bye, papa.”

“Wha-” Nanami looks at the harried duo in confusion. “What are you two-”

“And don’t mess this up, Kento.” Shoko gives him a stern wave. 

Before she clasps Yuji’s hand and helps the boy match her longer stride- the two of them speed-walk in the direction of the door.

“Yeah- don’t mess this up, papa!”

“Uh, where are you taking my son?” Nanami stalks after them. Not letting the front door close behind them, he watches the two figures - bouquets and all - race down the hallway. How strange that they didn’t take the usual route - instead opting for the one that would let them leave through the back entrance. “Hello? Shoko-”

“Don’t mess this up!”

He has half the mind to chase after them - it’s not that he doesn’t trust Shoko with his son, but really, what on Earth could they be getting up to?! Especially so late past Yuji’s bedtime. At the very least, maybe he could run up to them and let Shoko know of his son’s Spiderman ritual before eating and the tendency he has to bite fingers when-

“Nanami-san?”

Your voice.

Was he dreaming?

And yet—Nanami snaps his head towards the source of the noise so fast that it almost causes whiplash. He breathes your name out in a whisper.

So this is what Shoko meant about-

“Am I hallucinating or is that Shoko-san and Yuji running down the fire escape?” You point at something beyond his line of vision, though Nanami doesn’t need to look to know that it is, in fact, Shoko and Yuji running down the fire escape.

“I think I’m hallucinating, to be quite honest.” He mutters. Because surely there was no conceivable world in which he would see you like this - standing outside his door on Valentine’s Day, looking all gorgeous as you always did - and dare to bring out the bouquet that he had bought for you. Also was that…was that a bit of make-up you’d dabbed on? More so than usual?

His eyes linger on the glitter beside your eyes.

The thought that it might’ve been because it’s today - that it might’ve been because you’d been as nervous about seeing him today as he was about seeing you - makes him jolt. He’d been smoothing his hair down the entire subway ride home thinking of you.

Thirty-something years and he’s acting like a teenager in puppy love.

Certainly no conceivable world…

And yet…he does. He reaches behind him to bring out that prideful bouquet: 520 flower-heads that blushed themselves silly over not being even half as beautiful as you.

“For you.” He croaks out. Awkwardly pushing up his glasses. 

“Oh.” Your jaw drops, and the bouquet weighs heavy in your hands. In nothing but a whisper- “It’s beautiful, Nanami-san.”

Red, red roses.

.

.

.

Nanami explained the situation before he invited you in…somewhat.

Certainly nothing about how badly he’d been teased because of this little scheme or the ah- confession of feelings. Heavens, no! Nanami himself wasn’t entirely sure whether he’d go along with their plan…

As far as you knew, Shoko and Yuji thought it’d be a funny little prank to ‘invite Cupid’ into his apartment this Valentine’s Day. Leaving the two of you alone in an apartment draped in candles and roses like the most deviant of mistresses. 

And Nanami knew you knew. You knew that Nanami knew.

The implications were there for all to see.

It was there in the way his face burned red, and Nanami couldn’t meet your eyes- “I’m aware of how it looks. And it seems that my son still holds the idea that erm…either way, ahem, I completely understand if you would much rather go home. Please do know that this will not affect your job in any way whatsoever- in fact, I will cover your fee double tonight-”

“Nanami-san.” You’d interrupted him. Cocking your head with a slight smile, “May I come in?”

From there he’d been the perfect gentleman - not that he wasn’t usually. Even in the months since you’d worked for him, you’d come to find that Nanami was the type of man that opened doors for you, that pushed your chair for you, that covered your taxi fare home, that escorted you as far as he could by foot either way.

But now…oh, right now he was putting any Prince Charming to shame.

He had his hand hoverin’ right above your waist- leading you inside to the romantic dinner table. Here, he’d pushed your chair for you—and before you could even thank him, Nanami had his hands helping you out of your coat. 

He insisted on plating for you.

You couldn’t help but gawk at the way his biceps pushed against his work button-up, flexing slightly as Nanami stood beside the table and neatly cut your bread - one he’d baked just this morning, according to him. Shoko had clearly rummaged through his kitchen well…

Conversation was somewhat breathless at first- the both of you waiting for the other to go first. The both of you anticipating every single word.

Wondering what every single word meant.

But after the first two courses - Shoko certainly hadn’t burned these - the both of you were talking freely. Moving on from the more polite topics, like your day, his day, that were really a front for something more - speaking with Nanami was always so easy, he was the best listener you’ve had in a while—to dessert: strawberry shortcake cupcakes and a confession that slips from your lips. 

“Y’know- this is the first Valentine’s Day I’m spending like this.” You giggle, wiping off the cream that sticks to your lips. Nanami watches with half-lidded eyes as you devour the delicacy he’d baked this morning.

He swirls his half-empty wine glass. Certainly not enough to get the man tipsy - Nanami was quite the heavy drinker when he wanted to be - but enough to make him ask. “Oh? Tell me more, my dear.”

The candlelight catches on the rim of his glasses, encasing his eyes in an intense glow. You think he looks even more handsome like this- “Sorry. It’s probably going to sound stupid to someone more experienced…”

“There is nothing you’d say that would be stupid.” He pushes his glasses further up his sharp nose. Fingers crossing before him, he leans in. “Continue, my dear.”

“It’s just- I haven’t had many serious relationships, is what.” You admit. And he looks at you so intently- “With life and university, it’s hard to find the time—if I was looking anyways, that is.” You sputter, before he can ask anything about whether the nanny job was cutting into your time. “The selection in my department isn’t great at all.”

“So…” Nanami runs the tip of his finger ‘round that glass cup. The thin rim. The gaping mouth. “-no lil’ boyfriend, then?”

“No boyfriend.” You echo. And perhaps being drunk on the proximity is what makes you blurt out- “But if I did have one, I think I’d like someone older—”

He quirks a brow in interest, “Older?”

You nod. Crossing your arms in slight embarrassment, “Boys my age will ask you out and then go halfsies just because you don’t want to go home with them.”

“Mhmm.” Nanami’s lip curls in distaste.

“I just want someone to like me for me- y’know? Just to sit across from me like this and really talk to me for once.”

“Has no boy ever wined and dined you like this?” He asks.

“No.” You admit, somewhat sheepishly.

“Has no boy ever bought you flowers?”

“No.” You cast a look at the 520 roses - now housed in a large vase that Nanami had pulled out from one of his cabinets.

“No…” You breathe.

He inches forwards, forwards, forwards—and wipes at a remnant of sweet, sweet cream on your lips. That roughened edge of Nanami’s thumb grazes the edge of your mouth. “Has no boy ever been sweet to you like this?” He catches the look in your eyes. And his own lower. “Has no boy ever treated you like a man would, my dear?”

The older man doesn’t hesitate in reaching his thumb back up to his mouth- and lickin’ off the cream. “Has no boy ever eaten you out like this?”

“No-”

Your lips upon his are even sweeter than the cupcakes he’s baked- and he’s lavishin’ his tongue over your mouth gently. Opening you up so wide—

And even that isn’t enough.

Nanami’s thumb finds permanent purchase at the end of your chin, letting his own sinful tongue slip inside. In and out. In and out. In and out.

Almost as if he was fucking you with it-

You’re not sure how long Nanami’s kissing you like this. 

Maybe minutes. Maybe hours.

You’ve lost track of time- and the only thing you know is that your head feels dizzy. Your knees were growing weak in your seat. A slick line of spittle glides down the side of your mouth- and Nanami reaches a thumb up to smeeear it.

“My dear…” He murmurs, his deep baritone taking on a husky tone. Hot breath fans across your face, heating you up from the inside out.

You’re raising your face to meet his molten gaze- and it almost shocked you just how handsome Nanami Kento is. Noble features chiselled in the soft candlelight. His mouth slightly kiss-swollen. Blond hair unravelling from his usual neat style n’ cascading across his forehead. 

He reaches closer to you and siiinks his teeth into your lower lip, “Have you ever been kissed like that- here before?”

You squirm. Shaking your head-

But he tugs on your pretty maw. “Tell me in words, honey.”

Gulping as one of his rugged hands snakes down your middle. A carnal jolt echoes through your body once Nanami presses the edge of his palm between your skirt- your legs. “I…” You think of all the disappointing dates you’ve been on before, of all the disappointing hands in places almost forgettable. “Not like that, Nanami-san.”

“Now now—when we fuck, call me Kento.” He mutters, finally making his way ‘round the table. Before you know it, he’s looming over you- and two of his strong hands rest underneath your legs. “Upsy daisy.” 

He’s lifting you uuuuuup, up, up to splay out across the dinner table.

Lifting you like you weighed nothing.

Pushing aside first and foremost those plates and flowers- you’re being rolled with your back against the tabletop, and Nanami’s honed hips pinning you down. A dimly-lit halo of light behind his golden hair. He wastes no time before throwing both legs of yours on top of his shoulders- “M’gonna teach you how a real man eats pussy.”

You nod-

“First lesson. Big girls use their words.” 

And your jaw drops—

“K-Kento—”

You’re not sure whether the primal noise escapes you because of his words, his tone, or because of the utterly desperate way that Nanami Kento falls to his knees. Thud!

Loud enough that it should hurt- but you don’t think it even registers in Nanami’s frenzied brain right now. 

Not when he was pushing up that damn sinful skirt of yours- extra tight tonight. Nanami wasn’t a fool - he knew what you were doing. Not when he was starin’ deeply at your pussy, all wet through your panties and throbbing so hard he could practically see it.

Count it.

One-two-three. 

Not when he was worshipping you as close as a man possibly could—“Not quite the answer I was looking for.” Then the next thing you’re hearing is a sudden thwack! The next thing you’re feeling are the five pointed tips of Nanami’s thick fingers, smacking down on top of your pussy. “But I’ll let it slide since s’your first time being eaten out all properly, mhm?”

“Mhm.” You nod.

“What was that?” Those mean fingertips of his raise again.

“Yes, Kento.” You’re hurrying to answer. And just as a little reward, Nanami smears his digits atop your swollen folds. 

“That’s more like it.” The glaze of your sweetened slick lets out the loudest squelch, and you squirm as he’s tuggin’ aside your panties with a single index. “Are you ready, my dear?”

“Yes-”

“Are you excited, my dear?”

“Yes-”

“Good girl.”

Let the feast begin, he’s thinking. And Nanami Kento doesn’t wait. Nanami Kento doesn’t tease n’ toy. Nanami Kento doesn’t even swivel his fingertips around your wet hole more than a few times to check how soaked you are before he’s taking what he wants—he doesn’t have the damn time for anything else. 

He’d been starving for far too long.

And the closer n’ closer he gets to your pussy, the more his mouth waters. 

Nanami’s left drooling at the mere sight of your wet fuckin’ hole—you swear you could hear his stomach start to growl. Fuck.

He gulps.

He takes a single sniff. 

With a sudden lurch - like he couldn’t hold it back any longer - he leans up and shoves his face nose-deep between your legs.

His tongue swiping your hole, jaw hittin’ the end of your slit.

He’s curving that wet, wet muscle against your walls. Just so soft that it feels as if you’re melting around him- “Fuck.” It escapes him- harsh and cracking. A primal groan at the back of his throat - one he doesn’t seem to even realize himself. “Fuck.”

You tremble at the tone.

Because there was something dark in it. Something almost…predatory.

This was nothing like the calm, composed Nanami Kento that you were used to - absolutely nothing. This was…you didn’t even have words for it.

So fiercely needy that it shoots electricity up your spine- Nanami’s tongue was ravenous. He was holding onto both sides of your legs and- and correction…he wasn’t merely holding onto them. Nanami Kento was using all his strength to push them as faaaar apart as they would go before suffocating himself on your sopping wet cunt.

Such strong hands. Furious tongue.

No matter how much you’re bucking your hips- he just keeps fucking his muscle between your wet pussylips like the last thing on his mind was breathing. 

Swooping his head even deeper and munching for more. More. More, more, more. 

Nanami crushes his mouth against your pussylips - so deep that you start to wonder whether his oral area would start to bruise—

And it’s only because of that broken call of his name that Nanami flinches. He freezes. He puffs out a murky breath. As if only now registering where he was, what he was doing, and just what his name was at the moment-

He’s breaking free from your pussy with an echoing slurp!

“K-Kento…” You’re looking on in pure worry at the dazed man - his eyes were still glazed, and there was something almost…feral about his demeanour still. Though he seemed to be much calmer than before, “Kento, are you okay to contin-”

“I am.” His voice comes out strong. Firm. Like he’s never been more sure of anything in his entire life. 

Nanami lets out a few stilted breaths- running a hand through his now-unruly hair. The glisten of a silver streak in it. “I am. I just…it’s been a long time…forever, actually, since I’ve tasted anything so delicious.” Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “I hope you can forgive this old man for getting a little carried away, my dear.”

Was he really that ruined from but a single taste of your cunt?

He stares down so long and deeeep at your quivering pussy. That cute hole peeking out from your panties—“She’s just so…sweet.”

And though he was speaking to you, Nanami looks down lovingly between your legs. 

Now that he didn’t have his lips all plastered to your folds- he was rubbin’ his right thumb vertically down your slit.

Pressing down on the cute button of your clit-

“Awww did I scare you, honey? I sure hope I didn’t.” Honey, because you were just too sweet sizzlin’ on his tastebuds. Guiding one of your hands to grip his scalp, “Forgive me. When it gets like that, don’t be afraid to pull me- to use me, alright?”

“Kento, you don’t have to-”

“Consider it my second lesson.”

You squirm, “B-but don’t they say to…respect your elders, Kento?”

And you’re just too cute—he can’t help but flatten his palm down and spank your pussylips once more. It makes so many beads of slippery slick spray out from your cunt n’ glue against that chin of his. “You certainly can.” He hums, thoughtful. “But just remember- I won’t be respecting this pussy, honey.”

“I see.” You gape.

And while speaking to you - while speaking to you - Nanami lavishes out lil’ kitten licks between your folds. Lick. Lick. “I bet this pretty pussy’s never been eaten out like that before, huh?” He continues. Merely peeking up at you through blond lashes to confirm- and you can only nod—

Yet another spank sputtering down on your wet crevice.

“Words.” Nanami reminds. 

Hiccuping, “Yes, please. All those boys usually just like- graze my clit and that’s all.”

He nods. He continues, voice nothing but deep murmurs that sets your entire body aflame - and it’s as though the more syllables he’s uttering, the harder n’ harder he rubs on your clit. “Awww poor girl. I just can’t help but think of how long this pussy has been wasted on- haaah, boys who didn’t know how to handle her.”

“Too- too long.”

Lovingly—almost drunkenly, he’s pressing a direct peck against your hole. The tip of his tongue just lightly slipping out and teasing your entrance- Nanami’s free hand grips onto your thigh as if holding himself back. “Mmmm, that’s what I thought.” He murmurs. “And how long has she waited to be eaten out by a man who isn’t afraid to get a little…sloppy?” 

“Too long-”

At this, he chuckles. “And as for my last question-” Not even smooching anymore- he’s just smeeeeaering his puffy lips along your slit. More rapid. More hungry. “Actually- take this as my third lesson.”

You’re scrambling up onto your elbows. “Yes?”

“Can you settle down like a good girl?”

Whatever that means…you aren’t given the time to figure out. Because before you know it, Nanami purses his lips and plants a wad of spittle that hits your cunt with a wet splat!

Only making you even wetter for him to gape his jaw open- “Fuck.” For him to swirl his ridged tip around and around your snug entrance until it left your mind all dizzy, it makes your cunt streeeeetch incredibly once he digs the tip of his tongue inside. Thoroughly.

It’s almost as if he was splitting you apart on the thickness of his tongue. 

Expanding and contracting. Expanding and contracting. 

The stretch is so incredible that it leaves your mind searing

“Settle down. Settle doooown-” He’s humming in a low tone. Whenever Nanami feels you squirmin’ or clenching just a tad too hard, he’s making note of that particular spot and bashing it all in again. Thick muscle reaching in and out for your deepest depths until your tight hole can’t take it anymore- until you’re screaming for mercy. 

“Oh fuh-fuuuuck—” You’re arching straight off the table, the fabric clinging onto your skin briefly. Only for a few split-seconds before one of Nanami’s hands fastens onto your hips, pushing you right back down where you came from.

“What did I say?” He wasn’t even using much of his strength- you were just so easy for him to move ‘round. Especially when he has his mouth attached to you in a way that was so ravenous—

Ruined. 

“Settle. Fucking. Down, girl.” 

Pinning you to the flat surface and letting his gaped maw run wiiiiiiild. It’s making you realize that he wasn’t going feral in the beginning- he was merely holding back.

Both in strength and in pure carnal hunger.

No matter how badly you were craving to grind down restlessly on his face for hours- Nanami keeps you on a tight leash. He keeps you restrained on the table n’ getting only what’s given. Pushing down. Maneuvering his greedy mouth. No matter how much you wanted to plant your feet down and take control - Nanami Kento really does know what’s best.

“Failing the third lesson already, huh?”

Tears stream down your cheeks without you even realizing. “S-sorry, I didn’t-”

“Shhhhh shh shh. No need for an apology, honey.” He opens his swollen lips up wider n’ latches them around your clit for a few seconds. “My poor girl’s just overstimulated because she’s getting her pussy eaten out, huh? This pretty pussy’s just excited?”

“Yes-”

“That’s why your Kento’s here.” Nanami hums, his cold glasses frames hit the front of your cunt and you flinch. Making the man push them up his nosebridge with a chuckle—“And m’gonna take care of this pussy, baby.”

The way that Nanami looks dead-set into your widened peripherals as he says this makes your heart race.

Spitting a few more times down your dribbling slit. He was teeeeasing you before reaching his right hand down n’ smearing your pussylips open with two fingers- the rugged tips of his index n’ middle streeetching your damp hole apart. Just so goddamn thick. “Fourth lesson: sometimes…fingers feel even better.”

“O-ohhh—” Your voice breaks out in carnal trills. Trying to bend your spine but then holding yourself back-

He was thrashing inside a few more sloppy strokes - swiping, slurping, scrapin’ every inch of your velvety walls. Anywhere you could think of, his thickened digits were pumping in. 

At one point, he flicks his glistening tongue outside for you to take in his sheer size. “Size does matter when it comes to pleasing this needy pussy, alright? Don’t let any fuckin’ boy convince you otherwise.”

You mewl, “I-I wouldn’t need another boy if I just had you, Kento…”

And there’s something in his tone that sounds ecstatic- “Mmm, good girl.” Showing you a demonstration of his previous statement by mazin’ away straight towards your g-spot. And you could feel yourself shaking- all those times you had to worry about whether a guy could manage to make you cum?

Nanami was eatin’ you out like his one and only purpose in life was to make you cum.

“Always teasing me.” He scoffs out in a scalding breath. Raggedly running his mouth- his tongue. “Always riling me up with those pretty looks and that- damn-” Pushing and pushing onto your g-spot so hard that it makes you sob out of pleasure. “-mouth.”

Your jaw drops. “I l-love it—fuck.” 

Practically on instinct, you’re gliding a hand down your tummy- where you could feel butterflies. They only seemed to grow even harder n’ rougher with his textured tongue…“I think I can feel you right- ngh, here.”

“S’that so? You love it, huh? I can feel this pussy growin’ so wet—She’s so fucking tight, bet she’s never been fingered properly before.” As if anticipating your next moves, he’s digging his fingers deeper against your flesh. Leaving little crescent marks.

Whatever rational part of you is left begins to wonder just why he might have to pin you down even harder.

“And for my fifth lesson, honey.”

You’re waiting with baited breath as he presses a few more heated-open-mouthed kisses. Nanami’s luscious tongue reaching spots inside you that you weren’t even sure you had - ones undiscovered—

And it’s the only warning you get before the puckered, pretty flaps of his mouth opens up your pussylips. Just past where your folds were all swollen n’ tight- it was quite a squeeze even when it was just his tongue. Just his fingers.

So to have both Nanami’s fingers and his tongue inside?

It was sheer madness.

It was driving you stupid with his touch in but a single stroke- the jostling feeling of his wet muscle and his digits pressing against your walls and each other. Your walls. Each other. Your walls. Each other. Your channel was so snug that even the slightest movements made it feel as though you were bulging from the inside.

Pressing in. Fucking in.

In and in, and in—

“A real man is- haaah, always hungry.” Alternating between slipping his tastebuds into your hole, and then fishing himself back out—not to breathe. No, not even close. He was merely roverin’ his mouth over to spank down on your clit. “A real man would never get tired of his lover, my dear.”

“Kento—ngh.” You’re echoing out. 

Your moans bang against the four corners of the room and straight into his ears- the prettiest song he’s ever heard. “See how good you feel? S’only my duty to you, my dear.” 

“But Kento-”

Mouth makin’ out with your cunt as if he’d gone mad, too.

“Kento, don’t you need to breathe-”

“Fifth lesson. Who cares about breathing?”

He gasps out in interruption. Tongue swiping at a constant rhythm - it was difficult to get a single syllable out when all Nanami wanted to do was stick himself to your cunt and lick and lick and lick—

Both of you are realizing at the same time that he’d miscounted.

“For my fifth…” And he sounded maddened, too. Octaves higher. Tone breathy. There was a feral sort of hunger in his eyes that shook you to your core- “Sixth…?” As if he was just so pussydrunk that it was causing his brain to melt, acting on pure carnal instinct. “For my sixth lesson, honey. This old man’s mind is a little foggy, you see…”

You don’t get the chance to answer.

Because with that, Nanami only accelerates. First those fingertips of his were shoved all the way in and making your walls twitch with every hard prod—thud-thud-thudding way. Then he was smoochin’ over that same bruised spot with his slithering tongue, just swipin’ up where you were most sensitive. 

Before draaaaagging all the way out and about to suck on your clit. Throbbing so hard that he managed to time his lil’ bites to each pulse.

It was a dual sensation that left you driven mad. Absolutely mad.

Rubbin’ his fingers absolutely raw on those knotted bundles of nerves- 

You buck.

You get hit with a sudden spank.

“Mmmm—do you think you deserved that, my dear?” He asks. Too cute- the more he eats you out, the more he’s twitching in his pants. 

You sob, but you’re nodding. “Y-yes…”

Another spank.

“What was that?”

“Yes, Kento.”

“Good girl.” And honestly you could feeeel that sultry stretch of his grin—gently dabbing his tongue over your clit. Nanami Kento might’ve been a stern man, but he certainly wasn’t merciless. “But forget one more time and I’ll make you call me ‘sir’.”

You couldn’t deny the way that made your cunt twitch…

“Seventh and final lesson.” Nanami pronounces, his mouth slicked with so many layers of your sap that it gleamed—he wore those dangles of goopy syrup like a medallion. “When I make you cum- hah, you better reward me by cumming aaaaaall inside my mouth, honey. Or my cock.”

Your throat was utterly parched by now. And the only thing you could do was rasp out- “U-understood, Kento…”

Soon enough, he was babbling out hot breaths of something you could barely even understand- though each promise only sounded more ravenous than the last. 

Mouth glued to your cunt. Nails digging into your skin. Rougher than you ever thought was possible before, he’s sucklin’ at your clit and pounding his fingers into you so hard that it looked like nothing but a blur—

Nanami counts one, two, three rapid clenches of your pussy walls-

Before you’re throwing your head back and absolutely shattering into your high because of him.

Your toes curling. Your throat ragged raw.

His textured tastebuds are swipin’ across every bead of slick you were dripping out. Dripping. Every bead of slick. All over your puffy pussylips. All between them till he meets your hole- even all the way up your inner thighs.

He wasn’t letting a single bit go to waste.

Not even as that translucent sap dribbles down the sides of his mouth and ends up splashin’ right up to his handsome cheekbones-

The pleasure washes over you twofold - both with your orgasm and the way that Nanami was eloooongating your orgasm. Both his fingers and his mouth were working overtime to press into each peak of your high. “O-oh—” Thighs trembling on top of his shoulders- you don’t know when, but they end up locked so tight around his head. “It feels s-so good.”

Each tiny curve of his fingers made your body twitch in the aftershocks. “Extra lesson- fuck back into me.”

“Wh-what?”

It takes you a significant amount of effort to even open your eyes - let alone start to swerve your body uuup n’ down. And yet you’re doing it anyway—moaning as you ride all of Nanami’s handsome features in looooong, sloppy drags. “Fuh-fuck, like this?”

And he was just loving it.

“Mhmmm.” He gurgles out. Cracking one eye open, “Exactly. I know this is the best fuckin’ orgasm you’ve ever experienced, my dear.”

He wasn’t even being cocky - and you usually would’ve called him out on it - this was just plain true. “I-it is-”

“I know this pretty pussy wants it again, my dear.”

You can only nod.

“I know I surely want to eat her again, my dear.”

And nod and and nod as he’s fucking you through even the tiniest peaks and spasms—the surplus of bliss making your veins bubble. Burst. Bulldoze your senses as you’re practically vibrating with the sheer amount of pleasure that runs through them.

There seems to be a hazy aura covering your vision as you finally ride through your entire high.

Struggling up onto your elbows once more-

“Stay down—”

“Yes…?” Your eyes widen at Nanami’s strict order. He leaves a final slurping kiss at your clit before he stands onto his feet. Slightly swaying—

There was a glaze over his eyes. There was your slick coating all the way from his lower face, and puddling dooown to form a dark patch on his button-up. There were the short, panted breaths he was emanating - like a predator honed in on his prey - the longer he looked at you splayed out on the messy table.

Nanami Kento almost looked drunk - and not on the dinner, not even on the sparse wine. 

He was completely n’ utterly ruined on nothing other than your pussy.

He lunges towards you-

“Fuck, Kento—” You’re squealing at the rugged hands that tear through your clothes as easily as if they were butter. Shirt and bra easily landing on the carpeted floor- and your skirt was to follow before you even realized.

You’re just about to help Nanami shuffle you out of your panties - hips raising to facilitate it - before he takes another look at you. One long, hard look. And his hands leave your body as though that was enough-

He wanted your panties on.

Nothing but a sopping wet mess twisted ‘round your hips. Evidence of his depravity. 

“I want these off then.” You’re reaching up to tug on one of Nanami’s sleeves. He was still partly in his office clothes: button-up, formal pants, tie. And those sleeves of his had been pushed up to his elbows during your dinner, leaving you struggling not to gawk at the older man’s forearms. Strong. Slightly veined. Slightly tanned. 

He was just so attractive that it made you squirm. 

Nanami looks down at himself and lets out a hoarse—“Oh…right.” Like he’d been so caught up in you that he hadn’t even realized he was still clothed.

Pop!

Pop!

Pop!

Pop!

Those neat white buttons end up flinging to the ground- useless against his sheer desperation. Nanami wastes no time before tearing through his layers, ripping them off. Fabric pools onto the carpet below. His belt buckle clangs as it hits the ground.

Gentlemen couldn’t deny such a thing when their lover’s asking so nicely, could they? At least Nanami couldn’t-

And fuck…

Now, you always assumed that Nanami Kento was the kind of guy to be well-built. It was naturally in the way he moved, the way he stood, in the broadness of his shoulders.

But you’d never in your wildest dreams could have imagined that he’d be this chiselled. This toned.

You have to stop yourself from ogling him—you have to. But you can’t help it.

Not when Nanami’s body was ridged and curved in muscle- almost Herculean in nature. He had pecs that looked lush enough for you to bite - and you could already feel your mouth start to water - with a faint coating of golden and silver hair scattered across his skin. Wide shoulders. Trim waist.

His biceps flexin’ as he moves onto the buttons of his pants.

Lined through the middle with similar golden hair that drove down, down, down…

But you think your favorite part of him wasn’t the muscles or the hardness- no. Though they were certainly a nice addition, what made your pussy throb the most was just how…thick Nanami Kento was.

It was evident that Nanami was the type of person who liked hitting the gym often- but then again, it was evident that Nanami was the type of person who didn’t have the time to be hitting the gym often.

As often as he used to, at least.

And you? You were loving it.

Because all those muscles of his were naturally-formed. But with all the years of responsibilities as a father which meant his body was comforted by a layer of slight chub, big. Strong. Suddenly, you understood why ‘dad-bods’ were all the craze on social media—because you - for one - couldn’t help but linger your eyes at the sight of the softness to his shape. The slight roundness to his belly, abs barely peaking through.

“My dear…”

“Kento.”

He presses a thumb against the hemline of his trousers-

And then he’s letting you see him—all of him. 

From his V-shaped waist to his meaty thighs.

So thick. So strong.

You just wanted to be crushed between them.

And right down to the furious cock that stood upright and erect between them. Such a bulbous red tip, streaming with never-ending ribbons of pre. Such a thickened shaft that made you swallow—he had so many veins zipping down either side of him. You think he was about nine or so inches- perhaps on the lower end.

Before you’d realized it, you’d been reaching your hand between his legs- only for Nanami to stop you in your tracks.

“K-Kento…”

His thick fingers intertwine with yours and press your hand down on the tabletop. “Honey, you don’t have to reciprocate.” The older man stares deeply into your eyes- “You don’t owe me anything. I ate your pretty pussy out because I’ve been starving for her.”

“But I still want to.” You insist.

“Mmmm, how about after then?” He reaches his free hand up n’ thumbs across your bottom lip. “As much as I want to paint these beautiful lips with my cum, there’s another pair who’ve been waiting patiently for their turn…”

You shiver, “Erm- Kento, you should know that…this is my first time.”

He pauses. “Excuse me, my dear?”

“I’ve never done it before.” Looking up at him through your tear-draped lashes. “You’ll be my first.”

The thought takes a second to register in the older man’s sex-hazed mind. That animalistic part of him being overpowered by the rational.

Your first time.

Your first time.

Your first time.

He was about to take the virginity of that cute lil’ nanny he’s had his eye on for so long. “Honey, are you su-”

“Yes.”

Nanami almost moans at the sheer eagerness in your voice - your eyes were shining, and your legs locked tighter around him. “Well…” The man starts, dipping two thumbs down to your glistening pussy and spreading your folds wide open. He takes a good look at your entrance in comparison to the thickness of his cock, “Brace yourself then, my dear. S’gonna be a tight fuckin’ fit.”

In a split-second, he’s jerking his hips closer and smoochin’ your naked cunt with his cock. His rounded tip spreading your pussylips. His shaft sliding between your slit and massaging you with his veins.

Nanami was so goddamn hard that it looked painful.

And what better way to alleviate the pain than by pushing his pretty lil nanny’s legs apart and shoving his cock between them? Aching and needy for you.

Nanami was big enough to fuck you stupid with just his tip.

And he knows it, too. Having such a hard time completely fittin’ in his crowned girth, he just barely fucks the top of his shaft inside before groaning. Taking a peek at the way you were squirming below him, sobbing below him. Absolutely ruined- “Shit, honey.” Cupping his hilt with his left hand- Shit, honey, can you recite the lessons for me?”

You’re wobbling up onto your elbows, “Recite them?”

He can only nod. “Just—oh.” Cut off with the slightest sliiiiide between your sweet, swollen pussylips- he’s only managing to nudge the rounded edge of his length. “Just recite them. You have them memorized f’me like a good girl, yeah?”

“Yes-” Nodding frantically. “Yes, Kento-”

And that cute obedience of yours is enough to make him smile- tap-tap-tappin’ away the curve of his tip down there. For absolutely no other reason than wanting to. “Good.” He reels his hips back. “Then say it f’me, my dear.” And then forwards- “Say it while I fuck you.”

And the only thing you can fucking do is to babble out those words- the very same ones that’d been drilled into you. “The first lesson is that—fuck.” All the while Nanami’s probin’ tip enters your hole in a sudden thrust. “-th-that big girls use their words.”

Nanami grunts, voice shot. “Goooood good good- keep breathing now.” Hand clawing down your front—feeling for himself as he pumps inside. Tiiiight fucking fit, like he said. He almost wonders whether it would go in- “And then?”

“The second…” 

But it’s almost impossible to remember- to even think with those rapidfire haaaard hammers of his cock. 

That curved tip of his shaft kept pushing iiiin with the most lecherous squelches, drawing more n’ more sweetened slick out of you with every single thrust. That stretch was just incredible- it was making you see white. Just the first few inches of his pretty pink cock squeezing inside and pushing in and in and in—

Thwack!

Those rugged fingertips of his come spanking back down on your cunt - this time, however, they fit between your pussylips and latch onto your clit. And they stay there. He’s tuggin’ on that poor nub a few times just to bring you back to your senses- “Awww, you didn’t think you’d go unpunished for that—-did you, my dear?”

“I-I—no.” Because tears stream down your cheeks, and Nanami still isn’t letting go. He’s flopping out his tongue and lapping at that salty flavor-

“Then continue.” Humming at the taste of you. Fitting and fitting and—trying to stretch your elastic hole out to take him. It’s the first time you’ve ever felt something like this. “You’re doing so good. Keep going for Kento.”

Thwack!

“Keep talking, honey.”

“Second lesson-” Unable to do anything but arch your back, you’re being met with Nanami’s soft chest. Those pecs. The thundering of his heartbeat. It’s enough to make your mouth already water—“t-to…use you.”

He leans in, “What was that, my dear? Old man, you know…”

“To use you-”

“To not be afraid to use me.” He corrects. 

And it’s the last thing you hear before both Nanami’s hands snake down to grab your ankles- restraining them. Tightening them.

He’s bending you easily in half.

Legs on top of his shoulders. Thighs against thighs.

Pushing you all the way back into a mating press.

A fucking mating press.

Of course the hot DILF that you’re nannying for puts you in a mating press. Of fucking course!

And it’s only causing you to become wetter than you’ve ever been in your entire life- your head falls back against the table surface. Thud! An action that makes the older man on top of you reach behind n’ cushion the back of your scalp. “Easy there, my dear. Eeeeeasy.” His left palm lightly massages your sweaty head. 

“K-Kento-” Through your tears.

“Easy there- third lesson, remember?” 

“To s-settle down…”

“That’s my girl.” Nanami hums, head threatening to tip backwards at the sensations of your quivering cunt. It’s impossible to keep his mind when you were gushing out so much slick that it coats his shaft and leaves his ballsack all drenched.

And if he was this gone, then where did that leave you? 

Well, you were just babbling away the pretty syllables of his lessons. “The f-fourth lesson is that fingers feel better.” Hips bucking upwards. “The fifth is that real men are hungry—” Eyes scrunching with tears. That large circumference of his were pushing into tender spots n’ crevices that you didn’t even know you had - it felt as though your poor pussy was being split by him. Push after push.

After probe after probe.

Just animalistically trying to fit inside—

“The sixth- the sixth-”

“Breathe, honey.” Those smoky words of his scorch your face, as if Nanami himself was burning from the inside out. And there truly was a feverish tint to his words—to his actions, fuckin’ away sloppily between your pussylips. Slurp after slurp. “Breeeeeeathe- c’mon do it with me.” 

Conducting you through these relaxation exercises for a few strokes.

Listening to his own advice - that fourth lesson - his right hand lifts off of your thighs to roll over your throbbing clit. Just so neglected by now, it makes you see white to have him massaging that sweet spot all slow and sensual.

“The sixth lesson is…who cares about breathing?”

“Mhmmm.”

A guttural tone that sent vibrations straight from your drippin’ core and up to your brain. Only growing more muddled by the inch- “And oh! The extra.” As all good students do, you’re deciding to show a demonstration. How sinful that this sort of demonstration is you balancing your hips on the table n’ choosing to bounce right up to meet Nanami’s rutting hits. His pounces. “To- ngh, fuck back into you.”

“Oh, good girl- this old man almost forgot that one.” Sleazily, he’s pushing his glasses up his nosebridge.

Staring at the lewd sight below of you griiiiinding your hips up into his. It was just so messy because your lips were jittery with pleasure.

His happy trail rubs carnally on top of your clit- and it sends you into a frenzy—

“F-fuck that was-”

“Shhhh shh shh, easy.”

You waddle your ankles from their perch atop his shoulders. “Yes, I know-” Hissing out—“I’m breathing, Kento. I’m listening to what you’re saying, promise…”

“Good girl. Now inhale.” Of course, you can’t help but take a looooong gasp of the heady air thick in the dining room - the candles were scented like roses. “And-”

“And…?”

And Nanami doesn’t finish his sentence. He doesn’t bother telling you to exhale before his fat, throbbing cock is fucking every volume of air from your lungs. In this mating press, he could hit each angle even deeper than before - and that meant you’re feeling his thick circumference bruise all the way against your womb.

Your cervix.

Bottomed all the way out and Nanami was pummeling his length away as if there was even more, more, more of him left. A hint of something metallic hits his nostrils—and he can’t hold back the victorious chuckle that leaves him. He’s done it. “Continue.”

“I—what-” Struggling to catch your breath. “Oh my fucking-”

“Continue.”

“Who cares about breathing-”

A sixth lesson that he was fully demonstrating.

He really was mean.

He really was merciless.

Because he was fucking you into the dinner table like a damn animal—and the thing is Nanami wasn’t even going at a particularly fast pace in order to leave you speechless. He wasn’t merely half-thrusting away and hoping that you liked it. He wasn’t just tracin’ his cockhead down the sweet spots at the back of your pussy.

Nanami Kento was holding you down tight in his mating press. He has one hand gripping onto the back of your scalp - such a gentle gesture turned so sinful - and another crushin’ the fatness of his palm to your pussy.

Purposefully, the older man pushes the edge of his palm down on your clit. Harder. Harder. Harder.

And he was drilling into you harder by the second, too. Harder didn’t mean faster.

Just draaaagging every inch of his vein-covered shaft down your slick channel - he’s making sure that you can feel every single curve n’ ridge down his cock. He’s making sure that he massages your insides so thoroughly that it feels as though you’re being molded to his cock. Nothing more. Nothing less.

You swear you’re seeing the pearly gates spread wide open before your very eyes. “O-oh my god-” Reaching your hands up, Nanami lowers his strong body further into yours. Pushing you down against the dinner table, the pressure from all sides is too much that you have to claaaw down his perfect back. “Kento, what—fuck. I didn’t know that it could feel like this-”

And deep inside, you can feel his thickened tip flinching. Directly at your g-spot. “Mhm?”

“Yeah-” Voice shattering in your throat as his circumference swells just a few millimeters thicker inside of you. He was growing even bigger, harder, just by the sensations of your slurping cunt. “I-it just feels so good- I’ve never been fucked like this.”

“Honey…” Nanami’s mean yet pointed tone makes you stare up at him. “You’ve never been fucked before me.‘

“Oh.”

“Your virginity is mine.”

“Oh.”

Just that gone on his cock that you’d almost forgotten - even the realization itself seems to take up too much storage inside your already-muddled brain. Now filled with only the thought of him n’ his achingly hot cock—pouring out bucketloads of precum until it sloshed around inside.

Inside and inside.

Stirring ‘round and ‘round with his probin’ cockhead. He pushes deep into spots that you hadn’t even known existed, let alone could be smooched away by his pulsating shaft. He constantly whacks your g-spot until it feels numb.

Enough to render you speechless- 

“—graduated.”

And that makes your eyes blink open. “Wh-what?” 

“Oh, honey…” Nanami plants a loving peck on your lips- until that peck turns into a rugged bite. “What world are you on, hm? S’my cock that good? Awww, my poor girl—here.” Nanami’s perspired forehead sticks against yours. This time, he’s staring deeply into your eyes as he pronounces the words, “You’ve graduated.”

You cock your head in confusion, “From university?”

He chuckles, fine lines popping out from the edges of his eyes. You’re noticing that his glasses have slightly fogged up by now- “No, silly girl. From my lessons.”

“Oh…” Pouting, “But I liked your lessons, Kento.”

“Mmmm, you’ll like this one even more.” Dipping down- Nanami presses his stern lips right to the shell of your left ear. Whispering as if a secret shared by no one but the two of you in this world, “Remember how Yuji mentioned he wanted a little brother…”

A jolt goes through your body- as does the realization.

“If you’d like then-”

“Yes.” You know it might be rash. But looking at him like this - looking at Nanami Kento so deep in the pangs and plunges of his carnal pleasure - how could you deny what you want? “Yes—”

The blond man’s breaths start to grow heavier, eyes slightly widened. For the first time in the longest time, he actually looks like his usually-sensible self. Those molten eyes of his search yours for an answer- “Honey, really think this throu-”

“I did.” You’re insisting. And if that wasn’t enough, he could feel your wobbly ankles surge with the strength to lock ‘round his neck. “Inside, Kento.”

Nanami’s mouth moves noiselessly with an answer, but his cock does all the swelling. So painfully hard that you were sure it was tougher than rocks-

And there’s only one thing left for you to do. “Inside…sir.”

If he was any less of a gentleman - of a man, really - then Nanami would’ve cum inside you then and there. At least in his mind—which was focused solely on digging his heels into the carpet, solely on gritting his teeth and holding his damn cock back from pouring out those wads of cum like he knew he wanted to.

Was on the verge of doing.

He was instead collapsing the entirety of his weight upon your body- feeling your limbs strain, hearing your joints pop. But not even that noise crackling in his eardrums is enough to get the man to slow down.

Now he was just fucking you sloppy—grunts filtering between his grit canines by the minute. By the thrust. “The first to fuck you.” And what a rare occasion: to hear the ever-eloquent Nanami Kento stutter. “I’ll be the first to breed you too, my dear.”

“Oh—fuck, yes.” Your entire body shivers in excitement. You could feel the pit of pleasure starting to grow in your stomach. 

“I’ll be the first to give this pretty cunt a taste of cum.” And you could hardly believe that such a sinful sentence was leaving the confines of his mouth—“She’s probably so thirsty by now, no? I’ll be the first to quench that thirst, my dear, just you wait-” Pinching your clit between the fingers on his right hand once more. “-mama.”

Really, if you were calling him ‘sir’ then it was only fair for him to call you by that pretty nickname. Something primal awakens inside of you-

“I’ll be the first one to stuff this pretty pussy-” Nanami gurgles out, eyes locking in on your stomach. That was where his rounded tip occasionally made an appearance by bulging through your flesh n’ skin as he fucked inside you. “-with so much of my cum that you’ll be bloated.”

You gasp hysterically, “Yes-” So turned on that it almost hurt - you wanted him. Now. “Yes, yes, yes—”

“I’ll be the first to make you feel me in here- for weeks. Months.” Thrust after thrust. Pinch after pinch. It was incredible how much he was stimulating you to tears- “I’ll be the first where—when you walk down the street, everyone will know that I fucked you. Everyone will know that- that this pretty pussy is mine, that I’m the one fuckin’ her and stuffing her and—and giving her my cum every night.”

Rolling a sweet, sweet heart on top of your clit.

“They’ll know that I’m the one fuckin’ the cute, sweet lil’ nanny—all of them. The professors. Those parents at pick-up. Your friends. My friends.” He chuckles darkly. And he doesn’t care who’d be scandalized. “Wanna know why, my honey?”

“Wh-why—” You sob out.

And he leans in to whisper in your ear- “Because I’ll be the one making you a momma.”

Until you’re all round and glowing with his seed.

Until you’re so full of him that you can’t take anymore.

Until you’re so stuffed that you wouldn’t be able to hide it- he hopes you’re walking ‘round with his cum between your legs for weeks.

It’s taking only that and a single puuuush against your g-spot for you to topple off the edge of your high. Bliss pumping through your veins in waves, you couldn’t escape from the constant throb and ebb of it. Dimming the edges of your vision. Making the lights seem brighter.

Again and again and again—

He’s probin’ inside that swollen cockhead to push you through the bouts of your pleasure. In the time he’s had you like this, Nanami’s already mapped out where every single one of your sweetest spots where- and first he’ll thwack! his hand upon your clit. Then he’ll move onto your tender bruised spots at the rim, then his cock delves deeper until he’s hitting your g-spot—then again and again he’s knockin’ on your womb.

Filling it with so much of his cum.

“Breathe.” Your orgasm hits you so hard that you have to manually control your breathing- and Nanami’s right beside you. Walking you through every step, every exhale and inhale. “Breathe iiiiiin.”

You’re sucking in a breath. “Fuck-”

And it’s just then that he’s emptying out a particularly powerful wave of his own euphoria. Balls clenching as his ribbony white cum leaks near your cervix- with your breath sucked in, you’re only feeling the sensations even stronger. “And out.”

Panting out with a whine. “Fuuuuck- f-feels so good.”

Too good, almost.

You never knew it could feel like this to have someone pourin’ out all their lecherous sap inside of you- the thick layers clinging onto either side of your walls. There’s so much of it - so much volume that you wondered just how he managed to keep it all stuffed inside - frothing out and forming a circle of white ‘round Nanami’s hilt. Gleaming with every thrust. Puddling out and sticking your thighs together— 

Head throwing slightly back, though still peeking at you through his lashes. “Honey…”

Nanami’s gruff tone makes you jump. “Yes?” Still slightly twitching from the aftershocks of your incredible high.

He stares into your eyes with a slight smile. Something unreadable. “You forgot the seventh lesson earlier.”

The seventh…?

Oh.

Oh.

Fuck.

It’s with a sudden cold thrill that you’re registering what he said- and remembering the mistake you’d made during your recitations earlier. “I-it was to cum all over-”

“That’s quite alright, my dear. No need to tell me now.” Nanami smiles the sweetest smile that makes your cunt start to throb - his eyes shuttered closed, his lips pecking yours. His cock shovels a long, hard thrust inside you—“But I will have to rescind your graduation.”

You gape, “What, why-”

“Until you’re completely and fully stuffed by me.” He grumbles out the rest of his statement. His condition. 

Hands rovering all over your body, Nanami makes sure that every slight tingle of your high has passed before he’s pulling out of you with a loud sluuuuurp! Immediately scooping you up into a princess carry n’ walking in the direction of his bedroom.

It isn’t long before you find yourself draped over Nanami Kento’s large mattress - on all fours so that he can slip inside you with ease. Pumping away immediately- “Until you’re fuckin’ pregnant, consider that you’re still taking lessons.”

You’re sobbing into your newly-caught pillow. “Oh—oh fuck.”

To which Nanami leans over and snatches your neck into a fucking headlock- his strong biceps pushing against the sides of your throat. “Happy Valentine’s Day, my dear. When this is all done- fuck, m’gonna show you how much I love you.”

“I l-love you—” Feeling his rounded tip immediately pierce across your g-spot and towards your womb. Full. “-too.”

“Mmm, I love you more.” Watching as you shake and quiver. “We’ll get you something sweet after this, honey, don’t you worry.” He hums- before sneaking a look at the both of you through the mirror in his bedroom and chuckling. 

Ruined. Completely and utterly ruined.

“If we make it out of Valentine’s Day alive, that is.” 

Maybe Shoko could babysit Yuji a little longer?

“Papa’s gonna do his best to try for a second child, alright?”

.

.

.

Morning shed its sunlight like the clothes upon Nanami’s apartment floor.

A stream of white-gold Sun, the richness of the day, enters through his windows and splays out perfectly on the bed. It dapples light across his naked chest and leaves him stirring—

Valentine’s Day.

The dinner.

The table.

You. Being taken on the table.

Afterwards on this very bed, afterwards on the damn bedroom floor after he heard a snap coming from somewhere on the bed frame. He’d shovelled himself n’ his gooey white sap inside you until the Sun had risen—

And it’s enough to make him jerk upright in his bed.

Blankets falling around his waist, sleepy eyes scanning the room for any sign of you.

From here, he couldn’t see what’d been made of your clothes in the dining room- or your panties in his bedroom. But it was obvious that you weren’t here. If from your physical presence, then from the warmth you brought into his drafty Tokyo home.

Just to make sure, he casts several wide-eyed looks around the room - breath-still in case there was a single noise from the kitchen - and still…nothing. Absolutely nothing.

There’s a sinking feeling in his chest that he doesn’t want to make sense of.

Of course, what was he thinking? He’d said…those words to you last night- but just because you’d said them back didn’t mean it was real. It was probably in the heat of the moment, you’d probably snuck out before dawn broke so you didn’t have to face him. You’d probably woken up disgusted.

He didn’t blame you - there were no promises between the two of you. And even if there had been, he knows he can’t find it in himself to get angry at you.

If anything - if you chose to quit after this - he supposes he’ll have to start looking for a nanny again. Something in Nanami’s chest twists, and he reaches up to rub the spot where his heart was.

He wouldn’t mind the long and tedious process if it still led him back to you. He wouldn’t mind the long and tedious process if it meant you were there with him - not as a nanny, just yourself being you.

It was a cold morning.

And Nanami Kento was clenching his sheets, just about to throw his legs over the side of the bed and get out—he needed to put away his clothes anyways before Shoko came with Yuji. What was the time anyway? It was his off-day today, and maybe he could take Yuji out to the park to take his mind off of-

And it’s then that several things happen at once.

Nanami’s eyes catch the face of the clock on his bedside cabinet: 12:48PM.

Nanami’s jaw drops at just how late it is.

Nanami snatches his phone off of the cabinet and makes to race outside while calling Shoko-

And he makes it about two frantic steps, too, before getting stopped by a sudden squeal of laughter. Loud and bubbling. Euphoric.

Of course, it was none other than his son. 

Echoing a short burst of laughter throughout the apartment- before abruptly cutting himself off with a pronounced ‘shhhhhh!’ It rings even louder than his laugh, and reaches Nanami’s ears alongside some words. “Sowwy! Yuji promises not to wake papa!”

And Nanami’s brows furrow, wondering whether Shoko had somehow managed to forge a key to his apartment and get in. Before out of nowhere—your voice is the one that answers him.

“S’alright, sunshine.” You’re using that nickname he always did. Sleepiness was still laced into your tone, and he could tell it hadn’t been long since you must’ve waddled away. 

Since you must’ve put away the clothes in the dining room, since you must’ve opened the door for Yuji - Nanami would hate to imagine the smug look on Shoko’s face then, but the surplus of texts from her were already doing the job. “Papa needs to be awake for breakfast-in-bed, doesn’t he?”

The smell of pancakes drifts through the bedroom door - along with Yuji’s answering call. “True…but what if papa won’t wake up?”

“Then we eat the pancakes.”

“Yes—” Yuji echoes, “Thank you, Cupid.”

“Hm?”

“Because Cupid made you n’ papa married, right?” But of course. It leaves you stunned for a few seconds, and Yuji obliviously chattering. “I’ve always wanted to keep you- papa, too. Even though I know he won’t say—can we keep you now, Ms. Nanny?”

Your voice sounds slightly thicker than before. “You can keep me as long as you want, Yuji.”

“Thank you, Cupid!”

Two evil cackles, and the sound of footsteps.

You’re opening the door with a flood of sunlight and a tray of pancakes in your hand. Yuji rushes in after you with a call of ‘good morning’ - and by the smile on your face…yeah.

Yeah, it really is a good morning.

He still doesn’t know how to explain to Yuji that the two of you aren’t married yet, however.

It’s in an hour that you finally break the news- but rush to assure the little boy before he bursts into tears, that he could ‘keep you’ as long as he wanted. And that the two of you were together—yes, together together. Nanami puts off answering Shoko (she ambushes him for gossip the very next day). 

It’s in a month that you start officially calling yourselves lovers - boyfriend and girlfriend, whatever it is. It seems like so much more than that, however. And so Nanami just settles for introducing you as his partner at those tedious work dinners.

It’s in a few more months that those work dinners become the last he’s attending. Because Nanami Kento quits that damn job, using everything he’s saved up to buy a little bakery and a house just a small ways off from the heart of the city - not quite the countryside as he once imagined, but this was good, too. It was still a manageable distance from your university and Yuji’s school, and yet so much bigger than the apartment.

It’s in a year that Nanami’s bakery is at the height of business - a figure that will only keep growing as the years pass by. Word spreads far and wide about those treats- and soon enough, he’s forced to fire extra hands and more part-timers than he ever thought would be needed. The little bakery grows into a big bakery, with time.

You couldn’t have been more happy to see those dark circles underneath his eyes cease for once, to see him pursue his dreams. Yuji couldn’t have been more happy to get all the sweet treats he could’ve ever wished for.

And now, Nanami could buy him all the car beds he could’ve ever wished for.

He also starts looking into wedding rings.

He still isn’t sure about a Spiderman-themed wedding, but he knows he’ll be baking the cake.

A/N. Hehehe that Nanami and the flowers scene was inspired by my father having a tradition to always buy me a bouquet as well today.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[slvttyplums]

suguru cums in your panties ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

suguru has a weird problem, one that can’t be stopped and that’s making you wear your panties with his fresh cum in them. 

it’s more territorial than anything but he likes knowing he’s with you all day. 

“suguru please, i’m late for work.” 

he huffs a laugh, one hand on your hip to keep you steady in place and the other stroking himself while you hold your panties down. 

“i know baby im working as fast as i can.”

a strand of his hair falling from his bun, a bead of sweat slowly dropping down onto the floor. 

he’ll hold your whole schedule up for this, it was almost flattering in a way. 

it all became worth it when he actually finished, streams of cum leaking onto the fabric, a low groan rumbling in his throat. 

“oh fuck baby, you gonna keep it there all day for me?”

you softly gasp watching it. 

your eyes are fixated on his dick, how pretty it looks, how each vein becomes more prominent when he’s finishing and the flush on his tip that looks sensitive. 

“mhm.”

suguru smiled a little at your small response,  the last stream of his cum leaking on the middle of your panties. 

he swipes the tip of his dick and tuck himself back in then pulling your panties up which makes you squirm a little. 

“wear them all day, don’t even go to the bathroom.”

then it starts. 

it starts warm, the wetness coating your soft folds then it quickly turns cold. 

whenever you sit you can feel some it slip between your folds some, then you get used to the sensation. 

if he’s feeling nasty he’ll lay you down and jerk off over your pretty pussy, softly rubbing your clit while he does it, making sure you’re wet to the furthest extent. 

“you like that hm? keep those thighs spread mhm there we go.”

letting you get wetter and finishing all over your pussy, taking in the sight then helping you put your panties back on. 

he wants his cum coated all over you as long as you can hold, he doesn’t care if it eventually crusted or left a stain that’s hard to get out after the fact, he just wants his place known. 

even going as far as to finish inside of you, just letting it leak out inside of your panties instead, letting it soak down into the fabric, having you feel his cum coat your wet walls and slowly leak down throughout the day. 

it all depended on he wanted to go about it that day, sometimes he did both.

had you soaking in him, being reminded every time you sat down, walked, moved a certain way that he was right there warm against you.

when you come home he’ll check them, softly pull them down your thighs and see his cum still coated over you but crusted and your panties stained. 

you’ve gone through so many pairs of panties that are now permanently stained with them that he had to buy more that he eventually stained too. 

suguru just can’t help it, he gets off on it. having you hold down your little panties and wait for him to spill into them. 

[cumironi]

PURRR-ROLLING ME, DADDY

pairings; plug! toji fushiguro x reader

summary. you are supposed to get the weed, pay, get back to your stoner circle of friends. keyword: supposed to. but you’re stupid hoe, you forget the money, you left your dignity with shoko, and toji said shoko suck dick to get discount. you? you got fold.

words count.

triggers/warnings. rough consensual sex with dub-con/coercion undertones (power imbalance between college student buyer and older weed dealer), semi-public sex in a private gym backroom, degradation mixed with heavy praise kink, overstimulation and forced multiple orgasms, prolonged edging and repeated orgasm denial, squirting, massive creampie with cum play (licking clean from pussy, sharing/tasting cum via deep kiss), hair-pulling, spanking/slapping (ass), oral sex (male receiving blowjob, male giving cunnilingus post-creampie), no condom/PiV bareback sex, internal ejaculation and visible leaking cum, humiliation and verbal degradation, dirty talk (including objectification, ownership language, slut-shaming, and praise), hair-pulling used as leverage/control, spanking as punishment/reward, age/power dynamic (young broke student vs older dominant dealer), transactional sex, references to drug use (weed), intoxication-adjacent themes, intense physical aftereffects (sore/swollen genitals, trembling legs, leaking cum while walking/driving). No non-con, no violence beyond consensual kink elements, all acts portrayed as ultimately desired by the protagonist despite initial reluctance/coercion play.

you’re already pissed and you haven’t even made it to the fucking block yet. it’s sweltering—july heat pressed to your spine like a wet palm, fucking horrible. sweat making your cotton tee cling to your lower back while your thighs stick stupidly to the cracked faux leather of your roommate’s old-ass hand-me-down civic, the one you swore you wouldn’t drive anymore after that thing with the steering fluid.

traffic’s crawling like it’s on benzos and the phone on the passenger seat keeps slipping down every time you brake, which is every other second because god forbid anyone in this city drive like they passed a test. and on speakerphone—of course it’s on speakerphone—shoko’s laughing at you while gojo’s doing that thing where he fake-moans in the background and geto’s muttering “damn, she really sent you alone?” like it’s not his weed too. like you’re not the sacrificial lamb in this whole degenerate little stoner friend circle you never even asked to be in.

“look, i’m not even the one who smokes the most!” you hiss, gripping the wheel like it personally insulted you. “you all could’ve just fucking gone yourselves—”

“but you’re soooo innocent,” shoko croons, voice smug and sleepy like she’s lounging on her balcony with a joint already lit, probably sipping wine at 3pm like her life’s not on the brink of academic collapse too. “he might give us a discount if you show a little titty.”

“she’s gonna get robbed,” gojo says, laughing like a full-volume jackass, and you hear the clink of a lighter flick, followed by his telltale wheeze as he coughs on the inhale.

“she’s not gonna get robbed,” geto says, way too calm about it. “toji likes her type.”

you nearly swerve into the wrong lane.

“EXCUSE me?”

“you know. the dumb ones.”

“i have a 3.8 GPA!”

“yeah, in marketing.”

your scream echoes through the cabin. the phone slides off the seat again, thunking against a crusty water bottle and your half-empty iced coffee, which sloshes violently but mercifully doesn’t spill. you snatch it up and jam it back in the cup holder, ignoring the way shoko’s cackling now like it’s her fucking birthday.

this was supposed to be a simple errand. pick up the stash. come back. get high and eat pizza. but nooo, shoko had to go and run out the day before the final group presentation, and now all of you are teetering on the edge of burnout, one red bull away from dying in a google doc. except unlike everyone else, you got elected tribute, because “he’s nicer to new girls” and “you’ve got tits he hasn’t seen yet” and apparently that’s enough to send you into the slums of shinjuku looking for some underground weed plug who sells out of the back of a gym.

“this is exploitation,” you mutter, rolling down the window just enough to spit your gum onto the pavement. the air is thick with piss and heat and fried oil from some sketch-ass stall down the block that smells like heaven and hepatitis.

“it’s a social exchange,” shoko corrects smugly. “you get weed, he gets a little eye candy. maybe a blowjob if you’re feeling generous.”

“if you don’t come back with an eighth at least,” gojo adds, “i’m not letting you hit this indica. and it’s the one that makes you see god.”

“i hope you fucking choke on it.”

“love you too, sweetheart.”

you hang up.

the gym is squat and grimy, wedged between an abandoned massage parlor and a curry shop that always smells like someone’s wet sock. its signage is cracked and sun-bleached, the windows blacked out with film so thick you can’t even see silhouettes inside. a cardboard sign hangs crookedly in the door: “ring bell or fuck off.” very classy. your stomach does a little drop. not fear exactly. just... nerves. or maybe guilt. or maybe you’re thinking too hard about what shoko said.

you’ve never met the guy in person before. always heard stories, though. apparently he’s some ex-something—mercenary? killer? the guy who lifted a vending machine once with his bare hands? shoko said he used to fight people for fun. and now he just sells weed and works out all day. like a retired apex predator gone slightly domestic. dangerous but chill, if you didn’t get on his bad side. which, hopefully, you won’t.

you shift your skirt down a bit—black pleated, technically a size too small but who’s counting—and reapply your lip gloss in the cracked rearview. a deep breath. okay. hot girl dealer time. slut it up just a little for capitalism. shoko did say he liked praise. maybe he just wants someone to call him strong and pretty.

you ring the bell.

no answer.

you ring it again, longer this time. the door clicks. opens with a low, mechanical creak, revealing nothing but the dark smell of rubber mats and sweat.

then—

“you’re not shoko.”

the voice is gravel and heat, low and slow like it’s dragging itself out of a pit. toji fushiguro appears from behind a weight rack like a fucking boss fight, shirtless, skin sheened with sweat like he’s just finished tearing someone in half. his hair’s a little damp, falling over his brow, eyes half-lidded but sharp as hell, like you just interrupted something sacred. like you’re prey and he’s thinking about licking the plate clean.

he stares at you, towel draped around his neck, sweatpants slung loose on those fucking thighs like they’re allergic to modesty. and you—god, you freeze. like a dumbass. because he’s hot. dangerously, stupidly hot. like he looks like he’d laugh if you fell on your knees and call you cute for trying. like you suddenly get why shoko always comes back smelling like smoke and latex and regret.

“uh,” you say, brilliantly. “hi.”

“you shoko’s friend?”

“yeah, i’m—she sent me to pick up. for the project.”

he cocks his head. a slow grin spreads across his face like molasses on heat. “she send you alone?”

you nod.

he steps forward. the floor creaks under him. you’re hit with the smell of him—salt, musk, a little weed, a lot of testosterone. the kind of scent that makes you dizzy even though your legs are still working.

“first time buyin’?”

“face to face, yeah. usually we just... i mean she... she handles it.”

he tilts his head again, wiping his neck with the towel. “you nervous, princess?”

your stomach lurches at the nickname. somewhere deep in your brain, something very stupid turns on.

“n-no.”

he laughs. low. deep. thick like molasses and twice as sticky. his eyes skim you slowly, like he’s taking stock, like he’s reading the little tag on the back of your neck and deciding how much you’re worth.

“you look nervous.”

you don’t answer.

“don’t worry. i don’t bite. unless you want me to.”

and holy shit. you haven’t even asked about the price yet.

he holds the door open for you with one veiny forearm braced against the top of the frame like he’s doing it on purpose, showing off the full stretch of thick muscle and that little dent in his bicep that makes you feel like your brain’s gone soft from heatstroke or maybe sheer sexual humiliation, because now you’re wondering how much that arm could wrap around your neck before you’d stop pretending to care about prices and just let him split your legs open like a sandwich bag. but you walk in anyway, pride first, head high, face blank even though your thighs are doing that little clenchy thing traitorously underneath your stupid micro-skirt. inside it smells like sweat and blunt wraps and a hint of citrus cleaner like someone tried to pretend this was a real establishment but gave up halfway through the mop bucket.

the gym is dim and muggy and cluttered with benches and racks and a single punching bag that looks like it’s been hit so hard it developed trauma, and toji doesn’t bother turning on more lights, just lets the dusky heat settle in your collarbones while he strolls ahead, sweatpants slung low and towel tossed now over one shoulder like he’s modeling for a very horny prisoner’s dream journal. you follow because what else are you gonna do, go back out there with no weed and your friends waiting to laugh at you? he leads you past a protein shake bar that’s got more liquor bottles than supplements, down a short hallway, then into a back room with a metal table and a low couch that looks like it’s been fucked on a dozen times without ever being cleaned properly.

he drops onto it like a lazy king, legs spread wide, one arm slung across the backrest while the other reaches under the couch and pulls out a small black box with worn corners and a heavy metal latch. he flips it open, reveals a collection of baggies like he’s about to hand you something sacred, and you almost gasp because holy shit, it’s the good shit, purples and crystals and sticky glisten that says you’re about to forget what deadlines and dignity are.

“alright, baby,” he says, slow, dragging the word out like it’s honey dripping from his mouth. “what you lookin’ for? party stuff? sleepy stuff? somethin’ that makes you forget your name and say thank you every time you breathe?”

you blink at him, then shake your head like that’s going to reset your IQ to normal.

“uh, whatever’s strongest. like, the one that makes gojo shut up.”

toji snorts. “ain’t nothin’ that strong.” he rifles through the box, pulls out a dense little nug in a vacuum seal, holds it up between thick fingers. “this one’s called coma slut. knock your ass flat and leave your pussy hummin’ for two hours minimum. shoko loves this shit.”

you reach for it. “cool. how much?”

he grins. doesn’t hand it over.

“five thou.”

you pause. blink again. “what?”

“five thousand. yen.” he says it slowly, like you’re dumb. like he knows you’re dumb. like he likes that you’re dumb. “you want the premium, princess, you pay premium.”

“shoko pays like thirty-five hundred!”

he grins wider, white teeth flashing like a predator. “yeah, but she sucks dick.”

your jaw drops. he shrugs, easy, casual, resting his big hand between his thighs like it belongs there, like your gaze naturally belongs there too.

“returning customers get a loyalty discount. you’re new. no loyalty. just big eyes and a cute voice.”

you fume. literally fume. arms crossed, foot tapping, chest puffed out like it’s gonna make a difference but it just makes his gaze slide over your tits with a slow burn.

“fuck this. i’m calling her.”

you yank out your phone and jab her contact, slap it on speaker while it rings because if you have to suffer, she’s gonna hear it in real time.

she picks up after two, voice already smug. “well? did he give you the discount?”

“he’s trying to charge me five fucking thousand for the coma slut.”

a snort. then a long, wheezy exhale.

gojo’s voice joins, cracked and high: “did you show him your tits yet?”

“gojo i will murder you in your sleep.”

“you have to negotiate,” shoko says, sounding like she’s laying down in a hammock sipping gin. “flirt a little. he gets off on praise. tell him he’s strong. tell him his arms look like sex toys. whatever. it’s not that hard.”

you glare at the phone. “i’m not sucking his dick.”

“you say that now,” gojo mutters, just loud enough.

“listen,” geto adds, voice warm and too fucking reasonable, “it’s really good weed. just—try the flirty dumb girl thing. you’re good at that.”

you hang up before you punch the speaker into the wall.

toji’s still lounging, baggie dangling from two fingers, eyes half-lidded, watching your temper rise like it’s cute. like you’re just some little kitten clawing at the edge of his bed.

“you done throwin’ your tantrum?” he asks, that grin stretching lazily. “’cause you’re not gettin’ shoko prices, princess. you ain’t earned ‘em. but…”

he leans forward now, elbows to knees, his voice dropping low like the room just dipped in temperature. his eyes drag across you again, slower this time, hungrier. he licks his bottom lip, tongue flashing, and your breath stutters like a car running on fumes.

“…i am feelin’ generous today. you say somethin’ nice, i might shave off a thousand.”

you cross your arms harder. glare.

“…like what?”

he leans back, smirking.

“tell me i’m the hottest guy you’ve ever seen.”

“fuck no.”

“tell me i look like i could ruin a bitch without even tryin’.”

“you probably could but i’m not saying that out loud.”

“you’re so cute when you pout.”

“you’re a menace.”

“you’re wet.”

“i’m—i am not—!”

“your legs say otherwise, baby.”

you screech and grab your phone again, but he just tosses the baggie into your lap and chuckles low like he’s been waiting all day to watch someone squirm like this.

“four thousand, then. just ‘cause you’re funny. next time you better come with somethin’ sweet for me.”

you don’t know if he means words or your mouth.

and you’re not sure which one you’d give first.

you dig through your purse like it owes you something, fingers scrabbling past lip gloss tubes and stray hair ties and old receipts and shoko’s dumb-ass pink lighter that always smells like coconut vape juice, all the while trying not to look like you're panicking even though you definitely are, because you know you don’t have four thousand in there and you know he knows it too—he’s watching you with that smug fucking smirk like he’s already counted every bill you’re about to hand over, lounging like a lion who just saw the antelope trip on her own shoelaces.

“okay, wait,” you mutter, slapping your wallet open on the edge of the couch, pulling out three crisp thousands, one crumpled five hundred, and a pathetic collection of coins that rattle into your palm like your pride hitting the pavement. “three-five-fifty... uh... fuck. that’s all i got. can you... i mean, can you do like, a discount? like a one-time thing? like a hot girl coupon?”

you look up at him, eyes big, lip slightly bitten, trying to make your face do that dumb coquette pout you saw on tiktok, the one where girls blink slow and look like they don’t know what two plus two is. you know, the kind of stupid that makes men with muscle brains go soft in the middle.

but toji just stares at you like he’s sizing up a sale on meat.

“you really come here short?” he says, slow, drawling it out like he’s chewing your embarrassment between his teeth. “you come to my spot, take my time, drool all over the place—don’t think i didn’t see you clench your thighs when i opened that box—and then have the fuckin’ nerve to not even bring enough?”

you stammer. “i didn’t know the price was—shoko said—”

“shoko sucks dick,” he cuts in flatly, pointing at you with a lazy flick of his fingers, like that’s the end of the discussion. “and she tips. what the fuck you bring me? attitude and half a wallet?”

you flush. “i didn’t mean to—”

he leans forward, forearms on his knees, big hands dangling between spread thighs, voice low and quiet now, like he’s letting you in on a secret even though it’s obvious he’s just having fun watching you squirm. “i could be an asshole, y’know. i could tell you to come back with the rest and shut the door in your face. but i’m nice. i’m generous. i like girls who ask real sweet. maybe... if you really want that discount... you could say thank you properly.”

you blink at him.

“like...?”

his grin spreads slow and wide and absolutely fucking evil.

“like on your knees.”

your stomach drops, heat flashing through you like someone cracked a match at your thighs. your fingers curl around the cash instinctively, knuckles white, heart thudding loud in your ears because you definitely just felt your pussy twitch at the suggestion and you hate yourself for it, hate that you’re even considering it, hate that shoko warned you and you laughed and now here you are with a little skirt and a hot dealer and the kind of decision that makes you either a slut or a broke bitch with no weed.

“you’re joking,” you breathe, weakly.

he tilts his head. “does it look like i’m fuckin’ joking?”

you look at him—at the casual way he’s spread out, the line of his abs, the sweat still clinging to his throat, the twitch of his jaw like he’s holding back a laugh—and no. no he is not joking. not even a little.

you fumble your words, your dignity, your self-worth, and mutter, “what if i just—like—venmo you the rest later?”

he snorts. “nah, sweetheart. this ain’t fucking paypal. you wanna take my premium stash? you gotta earn that shit. ‘less you wanna walk outta here empty-handed and tell your little friends you couldn’t seal the deal.”

your mouth opens, then closes. your legs feel hot and twitchy, your palms sweaty, your breath stuttering in your chest like your brain already left the building and left your pussy in charge of negotiations.

he leans back, stretches like he’s already been serviced, one hand brushing absently across his own thigh. “c’mon. you do that pretty pout again and say some nice things, i might even toss in a joint for free. call it a customer appreciation special.”

you want to scream. you want to leave. you want to burn this place down and tell shoko to go to hell and—

you want the weed.

bad. like, enough to consider what you’ve already half-decided.

and his smirk deepens when you stay standing there, shifting, eyes flicking to the couch, to his lap, to the way he spreads his knees just a little wider like he’s inviting you in.

like he knows.

and toji fushiguro fucking knows. especially now he has you on your knees, hands braced pathetically on his thick thighs while his cock fills your throat like it was always meant to be there, like your mouth is just a wet little sleeve designed for his pleasure and not for arguing about prices or complaining about group projects. the smirk on his face is goddamn carved, eyes half-lidded and dark with amusement, chin tilted down just enough to watch you gag around him, drool dripping from the corner of your lips to splatter messily on his abs and his sweatpants, which are bunched uselessly around his hips like he’d barely taken the time to shove them down before fisting your hair and feeding you his cock like it was a peace offering—or punishment, depending on how you wanted to spin it.

“fuck,” he growls, voice thick and mean and low, one big palm tangled in the back of your head like he’s holding a leash, tugging you down just a little further, just to hear the wet choke that tears from your throat when the head hits the back again. “knew you had a good fuckin’ mouth on you the second you started bitchin’ about the price. this what that attitude’s for, huh? suckin’ cock like a good little dropout?”

your nails dig into the muscle of his thighs without thinking, and he laughs, the sound wicked and lazy, dragging you off his cock just far enough for a sticky gasp of air to escape your lips before he’s thrusting right back in with zero patience, all thick base and heavy weight that makes your jaw ache and your brain buzz, your eyes already glassy from how deep he’s hitting and how casual he is about it, like this is what girls do in his gym, just get on their knees and prove they’re worth a discount by being useful holes.

“you droolin’, baby?” he coos, mock-sweet and hot breath fanning over your forehead as he leans in, free hand cradling your jaw so he can tilt your head and see the spit bubbles collecting on your chin, the streaks of mascara starting to blur under your eyes. “fuckin’ dumb little mouth can’t even keep it in, huh? look at this mess. you ever sucked dick this big before or is this your first real meal?”

you try to glare up at him but the second you move he pushes deeper, deeper, until your nose is smashed against his pelvis and you can smell the sweat slicking his skin and the musk of sex that clings to his body like it never leaves, and your throat spasms around him because holy shit, he’s so thick it’s like he’s plugging you at both ends, stuffing you full from the top like your whole face is nothing but a cock-sleeve now, your gag reflex long gone under the pressure of his filthy praise and the slow grind of his hips.

“yeah, that’s it,” he grunts, knuckles brushing your cheekbone as he strokes the spit-slick mess of your hair, "fuckin' knew you had it in you. you ain't mad about the price anymore, are you? bet you’re thinkin’ four thousand was too cheap now. nah, you're just happy to be useful. bet your college professors never taught you how to breathe through your nose while suckin' cock this good, huh? maybe you'd pass your finals if you practiced like this."

you try to pull back for air, just a second, but his grip tightens in your hair, holding you flush against him, nose buried in the coarse hair at his base while he rolls his hips slow and deliberate, letting you feel every inch lodged deep, cutting off your breath until black spots dance at the edges of your vision.

“uh-uh,” he murmurs, voice gravel-rough, thumb smearing the tears across your cheek like he’s painting you with your own ruin. “you wanted that discount, princess. you take what i give you. nreathe through your nose like a good girl, c’mon. there you go… fuck, feel that? that little flutter when you stop fightin’ it? that’s you lovin’ this shit.”

he finally lets you slide back an inch, just enough for a ragged gasp that tastes like salt and him, strings of spit connecting your swollen lips to the fat, flushed head of his cock. it glistens under the dim back-room light—angry red, slick with your throat, veins pulsing like they’re pissed you dared pull off even a little. you cough, chest heaving, mascara running in thick black rivers down your cheeks, and he just watches, lazy and pleased, stroking himself once, twice, slow and filthy right in front of your face.

“look at you,” he says, almost fond, almost cruel. “pretty little thing all fucked up over some dick. shoko’s gonna smell me on you the second you walk through the door. gonna know exactly how you paid for that eighth.

you whimper—actually whimper—and hate how needy it sounds, how your tongue darts out on instinct to lick at the precum beading at his slit. he groans low, head tipping back for a second before those sharp green eyes snap right back to you, pinning you in place.

“greedy already? thought you were the innocent one.” he taps the heavy weight of his cock against your cheek, once, twice, leaving wet streaks across your skin. “open up again, baby. we ain’t done till i paint that smart mouth white and you swallow every fuckin’ drop. then maybe—maybe—i’ll throw in an extra gram for bein’ such a perfect little slut.”

“that’s it,” he praises, guiding himself back between your lips with a slow, possessive thrust. “knew you’d figure out what that mouth’s really for. now take it deep and say thank you with that throat, princess. make me believe you earned every yen off.”

your knees ache against the grimy floor, skirt bunched uselessly around your hips, panties soaked through and clinging like a second skin, and you know you’re ruined. you know the second you walk out of here you’re gonna replay this on loop—his taste, his voice, the way he looked at you like you were something to break and keep.

but right now you don’t care. right now you’re leaning forward on your own, mouth opening wide, tongue flat and eager, eyes locked on his like you’re begging.

and toji’s grin is all teeth.

your throat burns, eyes watering, but the humiliation is a live wire straight to your clit, sparking every time he talks to you like you’re nothing but a warm, wet convenience. you moan around him—actually moan, like your mouth knows better than you do—and his fingers flex in your hair, his hips roll just enough to make your tongue flatten helplessly along the underside of his cock, veins pulsing against your taste buds while your brain flares with static and your thighs twitch, slick starting to pool between your legs from how hard he's holding you, how good he sounds, how thoroughly you've stopped thinking about literally anything except the weight of him on your tongue.

"that's it, baby, fuckin' look at me," he rasps, pulling you back just an inch, enough for your eyes to lift, mascara-stained and hazy, mouth stretched wide and glistening as you suck in a shaky breath, your lips still wrapped around his shaft like you're terrified to let go. "shit, you're cute like this. dumb little weed-thief all choked up on cock, tryin' so hard to be good. you want that discount, don't you? want me to say you earned it?"

you nod—barely, because he's still holding you there—and the motion makes your nose brush his skin again, makes your throat tighten around him until he groans deep in his chest and mutters, "fuck, you're tight everywhere, huh? bet that pussy's just as greedy as your mouth."

you whimper, thighs squeezing together, tears slipping down your cheeks now but you're still sucking, still letting him use your mouth like it's a fleshlight with feelings, tongue flattening obediently when he fucks forward again and again, his pace slow and relentless, every movement pushing your limits, every growl of praise making your stomach twist with need and your pride evaporate like it was never there to begin with.

he leans back just enough to watch his cock disappear between your lips again, his smirk downright mean now. "keep goin', baby. i'll tell you when you're done."

"that's right, baby, just like that—fuckin' christ, look at you," toji groans, voice dragging through clenched teeth like it's carved from iron, one heavy palm flattening against the back of your head again just to feel the resistance melt out of you as you let your throat open wider, drool slipping in thick, shiny ropes down your chin and catching at the collar of your shirt, which is damp now, stained with spit and humiliation and the heat of his cock gliding again and again down your throat like it's been there before and knew the way, like you're already trained and just pretending to be new, and he fucking loves it. "shit, you were made for this, huh? whole face built for takin' cock. they teach you that in class, sweetheart? or you just born to be a little brainless throat toy?"

your hands are gripping his thighs now, useless little fingers clutching for purchase as he rocks his hips forward and uses your mouth with easy, slow-grinding thrusts, not fast—no, deliberate—like he's savoring the stretch of your lips, the way your spit strings when he pulls back just far enough for the head to pop free with a sticky schhluck, watching the way your mouth hangs open like you forgot what to do with it once it wasn't full. he lets the head slap against your tongue, lazy and wet, then taps it against your cheek with a chuckle.

"open wider," he mutters, low and rough, brushing his thumb across your lower lip, smearing the sheen of spit so it shines under the dim lights. “c’mon, princess, don't be shy now. you already got my dick halfway down your throat, what's a little more mess?”

you blink up at him, dazed, lips raw and puffy, eyes glassy and red-rimmed with tears you don't even remember crying, and you whisper some weak little "mmph" sound that's supposed to be a yes, and that's all the fucking permission he needs—he shoves back into your mouth with a grunt, slow at first, then harder, deeper, until your throat spasms again and your eyes roll up just a little from how full you are.

"goddamn," he mutters, hips grinding forward so you can feel every inch of him sink back into place, his cock pulsing hot and heavy inside you, "shoko never said your mouth was this good. probably jealous, huh? that's why she sent you instead—wanted you to find out just how much better you are when you're down on your fuckin' knees."

you make a broken little noise around his cock, a breathy sob or a moan or something in between, and it sends a shudder up his spine, his thigh twitching beneath your palm as he curses again and cups the back of your skull like he wants to mold your head to the shape of his cock permanently.

"fuckin' look at you," he murmurs, almost fond now, and it makes your stomach twist in the dumbest, sluttiest way, like praise is a drug you didn't know you were addicted to, "doin' such a good job for me. didn't even have to beg that much. just needed a little push, yeah? bet all that attitude melts away the second you got a cock between those lips."

you whimper again, thighs squeezing together instinctively, and he feels it—grins wider, meaner, because he knows now, knows exactly what kind of girl you are, what kind of desperate little whore shows up short and ends up with her face stuffed, all because she wanted a discount.

"that why you wore that little skirt, baby?" he croons, voice going syrup-slick and filthy, "came here hopin' i'd put you on your knees? thinkin' if you gave me those pretty eyes and a little pout, i'd let you off easy? nawww, you wanted this. don't lie. you need this. need to know you're good at something, even if it's just gettin' face-fucked 'til your brains leak out your ears."

your whole body flushes at that, heat crawling from your chest to your scalp, and your lips tighten around him on instinct, desperate to prove him right, because he is right, because you don't even care about the weed anymore, not really—you just want him to keep talking like that, keep telling you what a dumb little cocksleeve you are, keep dragging that rough praise out like it's gospel and you're the disciple swallowing every word.

"yeah, there youuu go," he murmurs, voice rough with hunger now, fingers threading deeper into your hair as he starts to fuck your mouth harder, shallower now, shorter strokes that make your whole head bob in time with the motion, each thrust punctuated by filthy, wet sounds that echo off the walls. "that's a good girl. shiiit, listen to you. all messy and noisy for me. can't even pretend you don't love it, huh? pussy probably fuckin' drippin', ain't it?"

you nod—barely—but he sees it, and he laughs, breathless and mean, like he's proud of you in the nastiest possible way.

"knew it," he growls, hips snapping just a little harder now, faster, not quite fucking your throat but enough to make your jaw strain and your breath stutter in broken gasps around him. "knew you were a nasty little bitch soon as you walked in here. whole time you were talkin' about prices, all i could think was how good your mouth would look wrapped around me. now look. takin' it so deep. makin' me proud, princess."

your brain short-circuits at that—proud—and your eyes flutter as your thighs twitch again, mouth going slack just enough for him to bottom out, your chin damp, your tongue numb, but your body humming like he's fucking something deeper than your throat.

he pulls back slow, lets you breathe, lets you gasp a little against his length while he strokes your cheek with his thumb, voice dropping low, dark, full of that same evil satisfaction he's had since the moment you knelt.

"don't tap out now, baby. we're just gettin' started."

your hands are shaky when you finally wrap one around the thick base of his cock, spit-slick and swollen, veins bulging under your fingers like he's just aching to blow but holding it back with the kind of practiced control that makes your pussy pulse with something stupid and submissive, something soft and hot that makes you feel like your IQ's dropping with every slow stroke you give him.

your chin's glistening, cheeks streaked with saliva and snot and whatever pathetic mess your body's producing just from sucking him so deep for so long, and you wipe your face with the back of your hand without letting go of him, still jerking him slow and lazy while you look up at him with eyes all glassy and fucked-out, lips bruised and shiny, voice wrecked.

"you're so full of yourself," you mutter, barely a whisper, still catching your breath, "you think every girl wants to suck your dick for a discount?"

he grins, eyes gleaming like you just proved him right all over again. "nah. just the smart ones. aren’t you the smart one, yeah?"

you roll your eyes, but your hand doesn't stop moving, thumb dragging over the leaking tip where precum's already dribbling out, your tongue flicking out to catch it without thinking, like you need the taste now, like you're past the point of pretending you don't want it.

"so what?" you say, voice low and shaky but trying to sound in control. "that all you got for me? a little weed and some praise? don't tell me that's your whole game."

he leans forward, forearms resting on his thighs, voice rough and rumbling like a fucking earthquake rolling through the floor. "i give you more than that, you might start followin' me home."

"try me."

that grin deepens, eyes narrowing as he watches you stroke him, sees the way your thighs are squeezed tight, like you're trying to keep your brain from leaking out through your panties. he grabs your wrist, firm but not cruel, and you look up as he leans down and says it in that voice that makes your stomach flip: "i got a special stash. not even shoko gets that shit. real heavy. makes you feel like your whole body's floatin'. makes your pussy clench just from breathin'. only break it out for girls who earn it."

you blink at him, hand frozen on his cock, mouth opening and closing like your brain's buffering.

"...and?"

he smirks. "you want it?"

"obviously."

his hand slides down your arm, slow, warm, fingers dragging across your shoulder, your collarbone, until his palm is cupping your jaw, tilting your head back until you're looking all the way up at him, throat stretched, lips parted, heart thudding stupid in your chest.

"then let me fuck you, y/n."

you freeze.

your name sounds dangerous coming out of his mouth, heavy and hot like he's branding you with it, like he knew it the whole time and was just waiting to drop it until you were soaked and dizzy and still kneeling on his gym floor with your hand around his cock and your pride in the garbage.

"what the fuck," you whisper, half to yourself.

"whaaat?" he shrugs, still smirking like he's got the cheat codes to your whole body. "ain't like you weren't already thinkin' about it. got that fuckin' look on your face the second i opened the door. tryin' to act all mad but your thighs rubbin' together every time i said your name. you were wet before you hit your knees."

you glare. "you're such a perv."

"yeah, but i'm right."

"fuck you."

"you want to."

you don't say anything. your fingers twitch around his cock and he sees it, watches the way your eyes flick to the stash box on the table behind him like you're weighing the pros and cons of being a whore for premium bud. he leans in closer, so close his breath hits your lips and you can smell the sweat on his neck, the musk of your own spit all over him.

"c'mon, princess. you already sucked me off. might as well let me bend you over and really earn that discount."

you scoff, but it's weak, almost a laugh. "you think i'm that easy?"

"nah," he says, low and hot, dragging his thumb across your bottom lip, tugging it down a little, "i think you're smart. you know a good deal when you see one. and you like how i talk to you. you like bein' called pretty when your mouth's full. like hearin' what a good little slut you are."

you shiver.

he grins. "see?"

you try to pull away, to roll your eyes again, to say something biting—but your voice fails and your body betrays you and all you do is sit back on your heels with his cock still wet in your hand, blinking up at him like you're trying to convince yourself this isn't the hottest thing that's ever happened to you.

he leans back, spreads his thighs, one hand stroking lazily at the base of his cock like he's waiting for you to decide.

"last chance," he says, voice a little breathless now, cock twitching under his fingers. "you say yes, you walk outta here with the best fuckin' weed in tokyo and a whole new attitude. say no... and you still owe me four thousand yen, baby."

you hesitate.

you look at the stash. you look at his cock. you look at his fucking face—all smug and sweaty and wicked, like he's already picturing you bent over that beat-up couch.

and you say—

"...you better not be lying about that stash."

he laughs, full and low and fucking delighted.

"oh, i'm not lyin', sweetheart. i just hope you can handle it."

he doesn't grab you like you expect, doesn't yank you up by the arm or push your face into the couch like some impatient street-level animal, no—he reaches, slow and easy, fingers sliding under your chin and tilting your face up like he's about to inspect it for bruises, or maybe kiss you like you're some shy thing trembling in the dark. and then he does, which is the last thing your dumb-ass brain expects, his mouth hot and deliberate and full against yours, tongue pushing past your lips like he's claiming the same territory you just worshipped him with, and the kiss is filthy, wet, intense, full of teeth and heat and the taste of weed and salt and spit but it's slow, achingly slow, his hand cradling the back of your head like you're something precious instead of the girl who just sucked him in a dingy gym backroom.

you make a stupid sound against his mouth, a breathy little squeak that betrays how unprepared you are, how suddenly soft this feels—except it's not soft, not really, it's still him, still toji, still all muscle and sweat and testosterone and perversion, but he's got you straddling his lap now like you belong there, your knees planted against the faux leather of the couch on either side of his thighs, his hands dragging slow over your hips and up your back like he's mapping you out with his fingertips, and his cock is still hard, hot, pressed between you, twitching against the soaked heat of your panties where your skirt's already bunched up.

he breaks the kiss to look at you, thumb brushing over your swollen bottom lip, that smirk gone lazy now, like he's already got dessert and he's just savoring every bite.

"fuckin' knew you'd be soft," he murmurs, eyes raking down your chest, "mouth all nasty but heart beatin' like you're gettin' kissed by your first crush."

"shut up," you breathe, flushed and dizzy and already grinding against him without realizing it, your hips rocking just a little with every breath.

"nah, baby," he says, grinning now, voice dipped in something that's half-mocking and half-worshipful, "you like this. you like gettin' all worked up over a kiss. fuckin' cute. all that attitude and now you're meltin' on my lap like a bitch in heat."

he lifts your shirt like he's unwrapping candy, slow and greedy, his eyes locked on every inch of skin as it's revealed, and you let him, arms raised as he peels it off and tosses it somewhere behind the couch without looking, and the moment he sees your bare tits he groans, full-bodied and filthy, one hand coming up to cup one, squeeze it, feel it like he needs to confirm it's real.

"god damn," he mutters, voice rough with something hungry, thumb brushing over your nipple until it stiffens, and then again, and again, until you arch into it like a reflex, like he's got strings tied to your spine and your thighs. "you came here with no bra, huh? fuckin' slut. wanted me to see 'em."

"no, i just—didn't feel like wearing one—"

"bullshit," he cuts you off, pinching your nipple sharp between his fingers, making your breath hitch, your body jerk in his lap, "you knew i'd get you shirtless. probably thought about it while you were walkin' in. 'oh no, mister fushiguro, don't look at my titties,' meanwhile your dumb little cunt's already makin' a puddle in your panties."

you whimper, actually whimper, and he grins wider, pinching the other nipple now, rougher this time, tugging it just to see how much bounce he can pull out of your hips, and you grind down without even meaning to, the hot thick press of his cock nudging right against the seam of your panties now, your clit throbbing from nothing but pressure and words and those calloused fingers tweaking your tits like they're stress toys.

"yeah, you like that," he says, like it's obvious— it is. . . like it's written all over your face in red marker— it fucking is . . . "you like bein' played with, huh? like when i go slow. thought i was gonna bend you over and ruin you, but nah, i'mma take my time. make you feel every fuckin' second."

his hand slides down, fingers dragging over your ribs, your stomach, the edge of your waistband, then slipping under to find the wet mess of your panties clinging to your cunt like a second skin, and he groans again when he feels it, when his fingers slide over that soaked cotton and come away shiny.

"fuck. told you. knew you were drippin'. you're so wet it's like your pussy's beggin' for me through the fabric. can't even pretend, baby. you're soaked. ruined your own underwear just grindin' on my lap like a bitch in heat."

"shut up," you hiss again, weak and pathetic, trying to glare but your eyes are fluttering, lips parted, mouth still swollen from sucking him and now your tits are getting pinched and your pussy's being touched like it's a treat he hasn't decided to eat yet.

"you gonna make me shut up?" he murmurs, dragging his tongue up the side of your throat, licking a stripe that makes your whole body seize up, his fingers still playing with your nipples like they're buttons he's programmed to keep your brain on standby. "nah, you like when i talk like this. gets you fuckin' dumb. gets that pussy all twitchy. can feel it right now, baby, through your panties, your little hole clenching for me like it's sayin' hi."

you don't say anything, can't, because he rolls one nipple between thumb and finger while the other hand's sliding between your thighs, pressing against your clothed slit and staying there, just pressure, just heat, not even rubbing, and it's enough to make you moan into his neck, breath hot and trembling.

"yeah," he whispers, mouth on your ear now, teeth grazing the lobe, voice dripping with filth and amusement, "go ahead and moan for me, baby. show me how bad you want that special stash."

his fingers hook the crotch of your panties and tug them aside like they're nothing, like soaked cotton's never been an obstacle in his life, and the sudden rush of cool air against your bare pussy makes you gasp sharp into his shoulder, your hips jerking forward on instinct, chasing the heat of his palm before he even touches you properly.

“shit,” he breathes, low and reverent, two thick fingers sliding slow through your folds, parting them just enough to feel how slick you are, how you're dripping down his knuckles already. “listen to that. fuckin' soaked. you hear how wet you are, princess? that's all you. all from suckin' my dick and lettin' me play with these pretty tits.”

you whimper, burying your face in his neck because looking at him right now feels too dangerous, too much like admitting everything he's saying is true. his skin's hot, salty with sweat, and you can't help licking a stripe up to his jaw just to taste him again, just to do something with the static buzzing under your tongue.

he chuckles, dark and filthy, and finally—finally—sinks one finger inside you, slow and thick and deliberate, curling it just right so your whole body clenches around the intrusion like it's been waiting years for this exact stretch.

“fuck, tight,” he mutters, pumping once, twice, thumb finding your clit with embarrassing ease, circling it lazy like he already knows exactly how you like it. “knew your pussy would be greedy. suckin' me in like you never wanna let go. you always this easy, or am i special?”

you bite his shoulder to keep from moaning too loud, teeth digging into muscle, and he hisses, hips bucking up so his cock nudges hard against your thigh, smearing precum on your skin.

“answer me, baby,” he growls, adding a second finger and scissoring them slow, stretching you open while his thumb keeps that maddening pressure on your clit. “or you too dumb already? just needed a couple fingers in your cunt to shut that smart mouth up?”

“fuck you,” you manage, voice muffled against his skin, but your hips are rolling now, riding his hand shamelessly, chasing the way he curls his fingers every time he bottoms out.

“yeah?” he laughs, breath hot against your ear. “that's what you're doin', sweetheart. fuckin' yourself on my fingers like a needy little slut. go ahead. use me. . .”

your hands scrabble at his shoulders, nails digging in as you grind down harder, thighs trembling, breath coming in short little pants against his neck. he's not even rushing you—just letting you fuck yourself stupid on his hand while he watches your face in the dim light, that smug bastard grin never leaving his mouth.

“look at you,” he murmurs, voice rough with want now, fingers thrusting deeper, thumb rubbing tighter circles until your legs start shaking for real. “pretty tits bouncin', pussy makin' a mess all over my lap. you gonna come just from this? just from my fingers and some dirty talk? c'mon, baby. do it. come all over my hand so i know you're ready for my cock.”

“toji—please—” you gasp, the word slipping out broken and desperate, your clit throbbing under his thumb, every slow drag of his fingers inside you sending sparks up your spine.

“that's it,” he coos, voice dropping lower, hotter, like velvet dragged over gravel. “say my name again, princess. beg me nice and pretty.”

“please, toji,” you whine, hips stuttering as he curls both fingers hard against that spot that makes your vision blur. “need it—need to come—”

“good girl,” he praises, thumb pressing firmer, circling faster now, the wet sounds of your pussy loud and obscene in the quiet room. “such a good fuckin' girl for me. lettin' me finger this tight little cunt while you ride my lap like you were made for it. feel how wet you are? drippin' down my wrist, baby. all 'cause you love bein' told what a slut you are.”

your breath hitches, thighs clamping around his hand as the heat coils tighter, hotter, your whole body trembling on the edge.

“come on,” he murmurs against your temple, lips brushing sweat-damp skin. “come for me, sweetheart. soak my fingers. show me you're my good girl—my pretty little mess. i got you. just let go.”

“toji—fuck—i'm—”

“yeah, you are,” he growls, fingers pumping faster, thumb relentless. “come right now, baby. be a good girl and come all over my hand.”

the orgasm crashes through you like a wave, sharp and blinding, your pussy clenching hard around his fingers in pulsing waves as you cry out into his neck, nails scraping down his back, hips jerking helplessly while slick floods his palm. he keeps moving, slow and steady, drawing it out until you're shaking and gasping, oversensitive and boneless against his chest.

“fuck, that's beautiful,” he breathes, voice thick with satisfaction, fingers still buried deep as your walls flutter around them. “good girl. so fuckin' good for me. look at you—comin' so hard you can't even breathe right.”

you whimper weakly, forehead pressed to his shoulder, body trembling with aftershocks as he eases his fingers out slow, bringing them up glistening and dripping.

“open,” he says softly, tapping your lips.

you do, dazed, tongue sliding out to taste yourself on his skin—salty, tangy, filthy—and he groans low, pushing them deeper so you suck them clean. “perfect,” he murmurs, eyes dark and hungry as he watches your mouth work. “now you're really ready for that cock, princess.”

he pulls his fingers from your mouth with a wet pop, eyes locked on the way your tongue chases them for a second before you realize what you're doing. a low, dark chuckle rumbles out of him as he wipes his slick hand across your thigh, leaving a shiny trail that cools fast in the muggy air.

“greedy little thing,” he mutters, voice rough like gravel dragged slow over skin. “already suckin’ on my fingers like you’re scared i’ll take ‘em away. don’t worry, baby. you’re about to get somethin’ a lot thicker.”

you’re still trembling from the orgasm, thighs twitching every time the aftershocks ripple through you, but he doesn’t give you time to settle. both big hands slide under your ass, lifting you like you weigh nothing, shifting you forward until the blunt head of his cock nudges right against your soaked entrance—hot, heavy, leaking, pressing just enough to part your folds but not sinking in.

you gasp at the contact, hips trying to roll down on instinct, needy little circles that chase the stretch you’re suddenly desperate for.

he stops you immediately—one iron grip on your hip, holding you suspended an inch above him, the tip barely kissing your hole.

“uh-uh,” he says, low and mean, eyes glinting in the dim light. “you don’t get to take it yet. you move when i say. understand?”

you whine, high and pathetic, fingers digging into his shoulders. “toji—”

“say it,” he cuts in, voice sharp now, thumb brushing over your bottom lip like he’s thinking about shoving it back in your mouth just to shut you up. “tell me who decides when this pussy gets fucked.”

your face burns, but the words tumble out anyway, soft and shaky. “you do.”

“louder.”

“you do,” you repeat, clearer this time, voice cracking as the head of his cock drags slow up your slit, collecting slick, spreading it, teasing your clit for a second before sliding back down to rest at your entrance again—never pushing in, just threatening.

“good girl,” he murmurs, smirking like the devil himself. “now sit still and let me play.”

he lowers you fractionally—just the tip breaching you, stretching the rim of your hole with that fat, flushed head until you’re clenching around nothing but the promise of more. your breath stutters, thighs trembling on either side of his hips, and he just watches your face like he’s memorizing every twitch, every desperate little flutter of your lashes.

“fuck, look at that,” he breathes, almost to himself, hips tilting up in a tiny roll that seats him maybe half an inch deeper—barely anything, but enough to make you moan. “pussy’s tryin’ so hard to suck me in already. hear how wet you are? just the tip and you’re makin’ those greedy little sounds.”

you try to sink down further, just a little, just to feel more of that burn, but his hands clamp down hard, bruising grip keeping you exactly where he wants you—impaled on barely the head, throbbing and helpless.

“told you,” he says, voice dropping into something dark and mocking. “you don’t move ‘til i say. you think one little orgasm means you earned this cock? nah, baby. you’re gonna feel every fuckin’ inch nice and slow, and you’re gonna thank me for it.”

he pulls back out—slow, deliberate—until just the slit of his tip is kissing your hole again, and you whimper at the loss, pussy clenching around empty air like it’s begging.

“listen to that,” he taunts, dragging the head up through your folds again, slow and filthy, coating himself in your slick. “hear your cunt cryin’ for it? poor thing. so empty. bet it’s throbbin’, huh? bet you’d do anything for me to fill it up right now.”

“please,” you whisper, nails scraping down his chest, leaving faint red lines. “please, toji—”

“please what?” he mocks, circling your entrance again, pressing just enough to stretch but never enough to satisfy. “use your big girl words, princess. tell me exactly what you want.”

“want you inside me,” you choke out, hips shaking with the effort of staying still. “want your cock—please—”

“want it bad, don’t you?” he murmurs, finally—finally—sinking in slow, one thick inch at a time, eyes locked on where you’re stretching around him, on the way your pussy flutters and grips every ridge and vein. “fuck, that’s pretty. look how tight you are. takin’ me so slow like a good little slut.”

he stops again halfway, throbbing inside you, letting you feel the pulse of him, the weight, the stretch that’s somehow not enough and too much all at once.

you sob, head dropping forward, forehead pressed to his collarbone. “more—please, need more—”

“shh,” he soothes, cruel and soft all at once, one hand sliding up your spine to fist your hair and tug your head back so you’re forced to look at him. “you’ll take what i give you. and right now i wanna feel this greedy pussy flutter around half my cock for a while. wanna watch you try not to come just from bein’ stuffed a little.”

he rolls his hips in a shallow, lazy thrust—barely moving, just enough to drag the head along your walls and make your thighs spasm.

“feel that?” he whispers, lips brushing yours but not kissing, just teasing. “that’s all you get for now. just this. just enough to keep you desperate.”

your whole body is shaking, slick dripping down his shaft, coating his balls, making every tiny movement obscenely wet and loud in the quiet room.

“toji,” you whimper, voice breaking. “please—i’ll be good—”

“yeah?” he grins, mean and slow, pulling out almost all the way before sliding back in to the same maddening depth. “you’ll be good? then stay still. let me fuck you at my pace. let me tease this pretty pussy ‘til you’re cryin’ for real.”

he does exactly that—long, slow, shallow thrusts that never give you more than half of him, dragging over every sensitive spot just enough to wind you tighter and tighter but never enough to push you over.

every time your hips twitch, trying to chase more, he stops completely, buried shallow, throbbing, waiting until you still again.

“bad girls who can’t listen don’t get to come,” he murmurs against your throat, teeth grazing the skin. “and you’re tryin’ so hard to be good for me, aren’t you? tryin’ not to fuck yourself on my cock like a desperate little whore.”

you’re nodding before you even realize it, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from the ache, the need, the way he’s stretching you open so slowly it feels like forever.

“that’s it,” he praises, voice rough with restraint now, hips rolling in another torturously slow thrust. “just take it. feel every inch i give you. feel how full you are even when i’m barely fuckin’ you.”

you’re burning, shaking, dripping, every nerve screaming for more, but he just keeps that cruel, lazy pace—halfway in, halfway out, teasing, teasing, teasing. “gonna keep you like this for a long time, baby,” he whispers, lips brushing your ear. “gonna make you earn the rest.”

he keeps you there forever—or it feels like forever—suspended on those shallow, teasing thrusts, every slow drag pulling a whimper from your throat that you can’t swallow back. the room is thick with the smell of sweat and sex and the faint weed lingering on his skin, the couch creaking softly under the lazy rock of his hips. your skirt is bunched uselessly around your waist, panties shoved to the side, thighs slick and trembling from how long he’s been edging you with just half his cock.

“still so fuckin’ tight,” he mutters, voice low and rough, one hand splayed across your lower back to keep you arched just right. “pussy keeps flutterin’ every time i pull out—like it’s scared i won’t come back. don’t worry, baby. i’m not goin’ anywhere till you learn some patience.”

you try to rock down again, desperate for more, for all of him, but his grip turns iron.

“what’d i tell you?” he growls, stilling completely, buried only halfway, throbbing hot inside you. “you move when i say. or did suckin’ my dick make you forget the rules already?”

“toji—” your voice cracks, raw and pleading. “pleaseee, i need—”

“need what?” he interrupts, leaning in until his lips brush yours, not a kiss, just a cruel tease of one. “need me to fuck you proper? need me to split this little pussy open and make you forget about everything?” he pulls out slow, agonizingly slow, until just the tip is stretching your entrance again, then sinks back in to the exact same depth—halfway, always halfway. “nah. you don’t need it yet. you want it. big difference.”

your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving half-moon marks on his skin. “i’ll pay you back,” you whisper, desperate, the words spilling out before you can stop them. “i swear—next week—i’ll bring the four thousand, just please—”

he laughs, dark and mean, hips rolling in another lazy thrust that makes your breath hitch.

“oh, now you’re offerin’ to pay?” he taunts, thumb brushing over your clit once—just once—light enough to make you jerk but not enough to give you anything real. “cute. but we’re way past yen, princess. you’re payin’ with this pussy now. and right now it’s buyin’ you slow. reallll slow.”

he drags it out—ten more minutes, maybe twenty—every thrust deliberate, shallow, controlled. he watches your face the whole time, drinking in every whimper, every tear that slips free when he bottoms out at halfway and stops again, letting you feel how thick he is, how much more there still is that he’s not giving you.

“feel that?” he murmurs, grinding slow circles once he’s halfway in, just enough to nudge your walls but never deep enough to hit that spot you’re aching for. “that’s all you get for bein’ short on cash and short on patience. half a cock for half payment. fair, right?”

“not fair,” you sob, head dropping forward, forehead pressed to his chest. your whole body is shaking now, pussy clenching around what little he’s giving you, slick dripping steadily down his shaft, pooling on his thighs. “please, toji—i’ll do anything—”

“anything?” he echoes, voice dripping with mock interest, one hand sliding up to fist your hair and tug your head back so you’re forced to meet his eyes. “then beg prettier. tell me exactly why a broke little whore deserves this cock balls-deep.”

you swallow hard, tears clinging to your lashes. “because—because i came here short and let you use my mouth,” you whisper, voice trembling. “because i got on my knees for weed i can’t afford. because i’m letting you fuck me for a stash i don’t even have money for—please, i need it—”

he groans low, hips twitching like your words hit him harder than he wants to admit, but he still doesn’t give in. instead he pulls out slow again, drags the head through your folds, coating himself fresh in your slick before sliding back in—just halfway.

“good start,” he says, smirking, sweat beading on his brow now from how tightly he’s holding himself back. “but you’re still too coherent. still thinkin’ about money and pride and all that shit. i want you dumb, baby. want you so empty-headed the only thing in that pretty skull is how bad you need me to fuck you deeper.”

another slow thrust. another stop at halfway. your thighs are trembling so hard the couch is shaking with you. “keep beggin’,” he murmurs, lips brushing your ear, teeth nipping the lobe. “we got all night. and this pussy’s not gettin’ the rest of me till it earns it.”

he keeps that brutal, lazy rhythm for what feels like hours—slow, shallow thrusts that never give you more than half, every drag pulling slick sounds from where you're stretched around him, your pussy fluttering helplessly each time he stops just short of where you need him. sweat beads on your skin, mixing with his, the air heavy and humid, thick enough to taste the salt on your tongue every time you gasp.

“still beggin’?” he murmurs, voice rough from holding back, one hand sliding down to grip your ass hard enough to leave fingerprints. “thought college girls were supposed to be smart. figured you’d learn by now that whinin’ doesn’t get you what you want.”

you shake your head against his chest, tears slipping free now, hot and frustrated. “toji—i can’t—please, it’s too much—”

“too much?” he echoes, mocking, pulling out slow until just the tip is spreading you open again, letting the cool air hit your throbbing clit for a second before sliding back in—halfway, always halfway. “this is too much? baby, i’m barely fuckin’ you. got half my cock in this greedy little hole and you’re cryin’ already. what happens when i actually give you the whole thing? you gonna break?”

your thighs are trembling nonstop now, slick dripping steadily down his shaft, coating his balls, making every tiny movement wetter, louder. you can feel how swollen you are, how empty past that halfway point, how your walls keep clenching around nothing but the promise of more.

“i won’t break,” you whisper, voice wrecked, trying to sound defiant even as your hips twitch for more. “just—please—give me more, i’ll be good—”

he chuckles, dark and low, the sound vibrating through his chest into yours. “you’ll be good? you’re already good, princess. good at takin’ half like a desperate little slut. good at cryin’ for cock you can’t afford.” he rolls his hips again, slow and deep—still only halfway—grinding there until you sob. “but good girls wait. good girls earn it.”

“how?” you choke out, nails scraping down his back, leaving red lines. “tell me how—i’ll do anything—”

“anything?” he repeats, smirking against your temple, sweat dripping from his hair onto your skin. “then stop movin’. stop beggin’. just sit here on my cock like a pretty little toy and feel what it’s like to want somethin’ you gotta work for.”

he stills completely—buried halfway, throbbing hot inside you, letting you feel every pulse, every vein, the sheer weight of what you’re not getting yet. your pussy clenches around him involuntarily, trying to pull him deeper, and he groans soft, grip tightening on your hips.

“fuck—there it is again,” he mutters, voice strained now. “that greedy squeeze. you keep doin’ that and i might just give you another inch. maybe. if you stay real still and let me feel how bad this broke little pussy needs to be filled.”

you freeze, breath hitching, body shaking with the effort of not moving, not grinding down, not chasing the rest of him. tears slip down your cheeks, dripping onto his chest, and he watches them fall like they’re trophies.

“good,” he praises, low and mean, one thumb brushing a tear away only to smear it across your lips. “that’s it. just take it. feel how empty you are past this point? that ache? that’s what happens when you show up short on cash and big on attitude. you get teased. you get half. you get to sit here drippin’ and desperate till i decide you’ve learned your lesson.”

minutes drag by—slow, torturous, every second stretching longer than the last. he doesn’t move, just holds you there, cock pulsing inside you, letting the need build until your whole body is trembling, until soft little sobs are slipping out with every breath.

“toji,” you finally whisper, broken, barely audible. “please… i get it. i’m short. i’m broke. i’m—i’m yours. just please fuck me.”

he exhales slow, eyes dark and hungry, like your words finally cracked something in him.

“mine, huh?” he murmurs, hips shifting just enough to sink in one more inch—still not all, but deeper, stretching you wider, making you cry out sharp. “that’s cute. say it again.”

“i’m yours,” you repeat, voice shaking, clinging to him. “please—”

he groans, low and rough, fingers digging into your ass.

“alright, baby,” he says, voice gravel and heat. “you want the special stash? want me to fill this pussy proper? then hold on tight. you’re gonna earn every gram.”

he exhales through his nose, slow and controlled, like he’s deciding whether to reward you or punish you more. his cock twitches once, deep inside where he’s still only giving you about two-thirds now—deeper than before, but nowhere near enough. the stretch burns sweet, your walls fluttering uselessly around the thick length he’s allowing, every tiny clench pulling another low groan from his throat.

“mine, huh?” he repeats, voice darker, rougher, the word tasting like ownership on his tongue. one hand slides up your spine, fingers threading into your hair again, tugging your head back so your throat is exposed, so he can watch the way your pulse jumps under the skin. “say it right. tell me whose pussy this is while you’re sittin’ on less than i could give you.”

your lips tremble. tears are drying sticky on your cheeks, mascara smudged into dark streaks, but the humiliation only makes the ache between your legs sharper.

“yours,” you whisper, voice wrecked and small. “this pussy’s yours, toji.”

he hums, pleased but not satisfied, hips rolling in one long, torturously slow circle—grinding the fat head against your front wall, dragging over that spot that makes your breath hitch, but never deep enough to really hit it. your thighs shake harder, nails biting into the meat of his shoulders.

“louder,” he orders, free hand sliding between you to thumb your clit—just one lazy swipe, enough to make your whole body jerk, enough to make slick gush around where he’s buried. “tell me again. make me believe a broke little slut would let some gym-rat dealer own her cunt just for a couple grams of top-shelf.”

“it’s yours,” you say again, louder this time, voice cracking on the edges. “my pussy’s yours—please, toji, i’m yours, just—fuck me properly, i can’t—”

“can’t what?” he cuts in, mean smile curling slow. “can’t think? can’t breathe? can’t stand how empty you feel even with most of my cock stretchin’ you?” he pulls out another inch—deliberate, cruel—until only half is left inside again, letting you feel the sudden loss like a punch. “look at that. pussy’s cryin’ for it already. see how it clenches? tryin’ to keep me. pathetic.”

you sob once, soft and broken, hips twitching despite his grip. “i know it’s pathetic,” you admit, the words spilling out like confession. “i know i showed up short, i know i sucked you off for a discount, i know i’m lettin’ you edge me stupid in a back room just so i don’t have to tell shoko i came back empty-handed—please, i’ll do whatever, just don’t stop—”

he stills again, fully seated at that maddening halfway-plus-a-little, throbbing so hard you can count his heartbeat inside you. his thumb returns to your clit—slow, feather-light circles now, barely pressure, just enough to keep you hovering on that razor edge without letting you fall.

“whatever?” he echoes, voice gone velvet-dangerous. “careful with promises like that, princess. i could make you come back every week. could make you text me when your rent’s due and your wallet’s empty. could have you crawlin’ in here on your knees every time you need to study high and stress-free.”

your breath shudders out. the thought shouldn’t make your cunt clench harder around him—it does anyway.

“would you?” you whisper, barely audible, like you’re afraid of the answer.

he leans in, lips brushing the shell of your ear, breath hot and damp. “if you keep squeezin’ me like that? yeah. i’d make you my regular little payment plan. no cash. just this wet pussy whenever i want it.”

another slow roll of his hips—deeper this time, three-quarters in, stretching you wider, making your eyes roll back for a second before he pulls back to that same torturous depth.

“but not tonight,” he murmurs. “tonight you’re still learnin’. tonight you take what i give you and you thank me for it.”

he starts moving again—long, excruciatingly controlled strokes, never bottoming out, always stopping just short of where you need him most. every withdrawal drags a wet, obscene sound from your cunt; every re-entry makes your thighs tremble and your voice break on little ah-ah-ah sounds you can’t swallow.

“thank you,” you gasp after the next thrust, the words automatic now, desperate. “thank you—for—for teasin’ me, for—for not lettin’ me come yet, for—”

he cuts you off with a rough thrust—still not all the way, but hard enough to punch the air from your lungs.

“good girl,” he growls, voice fraying at the edges like he’s finally starting to feel the strain too. “keep thankin’ me. keep tellin’ me whose you are. maybe—maybe—if you’re sweet enough, i’ll let you have the rest.”

your head drops to his shoulder, body shaking, cunt dripping, mind blank except for the slow, relentless stretch and the promise of more.

“thank you, toji,” you whisper again, over and over, like a prayer. “thank you—thank you—i’m yours—”

he groans deep, hips stuttering for the first time.

“fuck,” he breathes, almost reverent. “keep sayin’ that and i might actually believe you deserve the whole thing.”

he finally moves—sudden, decisive, like he’s done playing patient.

“enough teasin’,” he growls low against your ear, voice frayed with the strain he’s been hiding. “you’ve been good enough. time to really earn that stash.”

before you can process the words his hands clamp under your thighs—big palms gripping hard, fingers digging into soft flesh—and he lifts you off his lap in one smooth motion. your body leaves the couch, legs dangling for a split second before he’s on his feet, carrying you like you weigh nothing. the sudden shift makes his cock slip out completely, leaving you clenching around nothing, a pitiful whine tearing from your throat at the emptiness.

“shh,” he mutters, already turning, striding the few steps to the nearest clear wall—the rough brick one near the weight racks, still warm from the gym’s lingering heat. “you wanted more. now you’re gettin’ it.”

he pins you against the wall with his body first, chest to chest, letting you feel every hard line of muscle and the slick heat of his cock pressing up between your thighs. then he hooks his arms under your knees, spreading your legs wide—wide enough that your thighs burn from the stretch, knees hooked over the crooks of his elbows, calves dangling helplessly. your skirt rides up uselessly, panties still shoved to the side, cunt exposed and dripping in the dim light.

“look at you,” he says, voice dark and satisfied, eyes raking down where you’re spread open for him. “legs apart. no hidin’ now, princess. gonna fuck you standin’ so you feel every inch.”

he adjusts his grip—hands locked under your thighs, holding you splayed and suspended—and lines himself up with one slow drag of the head through your folds. you’re so wet it’s obscene, slick coating him instantly, dripping down to his balls. he doesn’t tease this time. he sinks in slow but steady—all the way this time, one long, unrelenting thrust that stretches you open completely, bottoming out until his hips are flush against yours and you’re stuffed full.

your head thumps back against the brick, a choked moan ripping out of you at the sudden fullness, the burn of him splitting you wide while your legs are forced apart like this. gravity pulls you down harder onto his cock, every inch buried deeper than before, the head nudging places that make your vision spark.

“fuck—tight,” he grunts, voice rough, holding you steady with that iron grip on your thighs. “feel that? whole cock now. no more half-measures. this what you were beggin’ for?”

you can’t answer—only nod frantically, hands scrabbling at his shoulders, nails digging in as he starts to move.

he doesn’t thrust up into you like you expect. instead he lifts you—slow, controlled—until just the head is stretching your entrance again, then drops you back down onto his length in one smooth, devastating motion. your body slides up and down his cock like you’re nothing but a sleeve for him to fuck, legs splayed wide, thighs trembling in his hold, cunt clenching hard every time he bottoms out.

the wet slap of skin on skin echoes off the brick, loud and filthy, your slick making obscene sounds with every drop. gravity does half the work—each downward motion seats him deeper, harder, the head kissing your cervix on every full drop while your clit grinds against his pelvis.

“that’s it,” he rasps, breath hot against your neck, teeth grazing your collarbone. “up—down—up—down. ridin’ me like the little slut you are. look how wide your legs are—pussy takin’ every fuckin’ inch while i hold you open.”

your arms loop around his neck for leverage, face buried in his shoulder as he keeps that punishing rhythm—lifting you high, then letting gravity slam you back down, over and over. each drop punches a gasp or a sob out of you, thighs shaking violently in his grip, cunt fluttering and spasming around the thick drag of him.

“toji, fuck—too deep,” you whimper, voice breaking on every bounce.

“too deep?” he mocks, lifting you higher this time, holding you there for a second so you feel the stretch at your entrance before dropping you again—hard. “you were cryin’ for more five minutes ago. now take it. take the whole cock while your legs are spread like a whore earnin’ her weed.”

he picks up the pace just enough—still controlled, still using your body weight to fuck you onto him, but faster now, each drop making your tits bounce, your breath hitch, your walls clamp down harder. slick drips down his thighs, down yours, pooling on the floor beneath you in little wet spots.

“gonna keep you like this,” he mutters, voice strained, sweat rolling down his temple. “gonna fuck you standin’ till you can’t walk straight. till every step tomorrow reminds you who owns this pussy.”

your legs are jelly in his hold, spread so wide the muscles burn, but the angle has him hitting that spot inside you on every drop now—relentless, perfect, building pressure you can’t escape.

“toji, please—” you gasp, nails raking down his back. “gonna—gonna—”

“not yet,” he growls, slowing the drops just enough to keep you teetering, holding you suspended for a heartbeat longer each time before letting you fall. “you come when i say. you earned the cock—now earn the orgasm.”

he keeps fucking you like that—up and down his length, legs forced wide, body pinned between brick and muscle—slow enough to torture, deep enough to ruin, until you’re nothing but shaking, dripping, begging mess in his arms.

he keeps that brutal rhythm—lifting you high with those iron grips under your thighs, legs forced wide apart, then dropping you down his full length every few seconds, letting gravity do the dirty work. each plunge bottoms him out hard, the thick head kissing your cervix, grinding against that swollen spot inside that makes stars burst behind your eyelids. your clit drags against his pelvis on every drop, slick and swollen, the friction building faster than you can handle.

your whole body is shaking now, thighs burning from being held so wide, cunt clenching harder and harder around him with every descent. the pressure coils tighter, hotter, a white-hot knot low in your belly that keeps winding and winding until you’re gasping broken little pleas into his neck.

“toji, fuck, i’m close, pleaseeee.”

“yeah?” he rasps, voice strained, sweat dripping down his temples as he lifts you again, holds you suspended for a heartbeat longer this time so the head of his cock stretches your entrance wide, teasing, before slamming you back down. the impact punches a sob out of you, walls fluttering wildly, so close—so fucking close—you can feel the orgasm cresting, thighs locking, breath stuttering.

“gonna come. . . gonna come on your cock—please—”

he groans deep, hips snapping up to meet the next drop, grinding there for a second while you’re fully seated, clit mashed against him, cock throbbing so thick inside you it feels like he’s splitting you in half. your nails rake down his back, body arching, the edge right there, right fucking there—

and then he stops.

completely.

still buried to the hilt, but frozen, holding you impaled and trembling, not moving an inch.

your eyes snap open, a desperate whine tearing from your throat. “no, no. . . don’t stop, i was—”

“shh,” he cuts you off, low and mean, lips brushing your ear while your pussy spasms uselessly around him, chasing the orgasm he just stole. “not yet, princess. you don’t get to come that easy.”

you sob once, frustrated and wrecked, hips twitching in his hold but he doesn’t let you grind, doesn’t let you chase it. your legs are still spread wide, thighs quivering in his grip, cunt dripping down his balls in frustrated little pulses.

“pleaseee, toji, i need—”

“i know what you need,” he murmurs, voice dark with amusement, starting to walk—still holding you like this, cock buried deep, every step making him nudge against your walls in tiny torturous shifts. “but i might not fuck you again after tonight. broke little student shows up once, pays with her mouth and her pussy, gets her stash and disappears. so if this is the only time…”

he turns, carrying you effortlessly toward the low metal table in the corner—the one with the black box of weed still sitting on it like a taunt.

“…might as well try as many positions as i can while i’ve got you spread and drippin’ like this.”

he sets you down on the edge of the table—cold metal biting into your ass—legs still hooked over his arms, held wide apart. he doesn’t pull out, just adjusts his stance so he’s standing between your thighs, cock still throbbing inside you, the new angle letting him sink even deeper somehow, pressing right up against that spot that makes your toes curl.

“look at you,” he says, eyes raking over where you’re impaled, legs splayed obscenely on the table, skirt rucked up, tits heaving with every ragged breath. “spread wide on my table like a fuckin’ buffet. gonna fuck you here next. gonna make sure you feel me in every position before i decide if you’re worth round two.”

he rolls his hips once—slow, deep, deliberate—grinding the head against your g-spot while his pelvis drags over your clit. the denied orgasm flares back to life instantly, hotter, meaner, building twice as fast now that you’re teetering so close already.

“toji, please—” you beg, voice cracking, hands scrabbling at the edge of the table for leverage. “let me come—i’ll do anything—”

“you’ll do anything anyway,” he mutters, starting a slow, punishing rhythm again—pulling out halfway, then slamming back in, making the table creak under you. “but you come when i say. not before. not when you’re this close to beggin’ me to keep you as my personal little weed slut.”

each thrust jolts you, legs shaking in his hold, cunt clenching desperately, the buildup roaring back twice as intense—pressure so thick it hurts, so close again you can taste it, thighs locking, breath hitching—

and he stops again.

buried deep, still, watching your face crumple with frustration and need.

he holds you there again—impaled to the hilt on the cold metal table, legs still hooked wide over his thick forearms, thighs burning from the stretch, cunt stuffed so full you can feel every vein pulsing against your fluttering walls. the denied orgasm throbs like a second heartbeat low in your belly, sharp and angry, every tiny clench around him sending fresh sparks of frustrated pleasure-pain up your spine. your clit is swollen and untouched now, aching where it presses uselessly against his pelvis, every shallow breath you take making it throb harder.

toji’s chest rises and falls slow against yours, sweat-slick skin sticking where your tits are crushed to him. he doesn’t move. just lets you feel him—thick, hot, unmoving—while your pussy spasms helplessly, trying to drag friction from nothing. slick drips steadily from where you’re stretched around him, pooling on the table beneath your ass in warm little puddles that cool fast against the metal.

“feel that?” he murmurs, voice low and mean, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “how full you are? how deep? you’re grippin’ me like a vice, baby—pussy’s cryin’ for it, clenchin’ over and over like it thinks it can force me to move.”

you whimper, head falling back, the back of your skull thunking softly against the table. tears of pure frustration prick at your lashes again. your hips twitch—tiny, involuntary jerks—but his grip tightens instantly, iron bands under your thighs keeping you exactly where he wants you: spread, suspended, stuffed, and denied.

“don’t,” he warns, voice dropping darker. “you move again and i pull out completely. leave you empty and drippin’ on my table like the desperate little thing you are.”

a broken sob tears out of you. “toji—please—i can’t—i need—”

“need to come?” he finishes for you, mocking, one hand sliding up to cup your jaw, forcing your face toward his so you have to look at him. his eyes are dark, pupils blown, sweat beading on his brow from how hard he’s holding himself back. “yeah, i know. been feelin’ it build twice now. felt you flutterin’ right on the edge, walls squeezin’ me so tight i almost lost it. but not yet.”

he rolls his hips once—just once—slow, deliberate, grinding the fat head against your g-spot in a lazy circle that makes your whole body seize. stars burst behind your eyelids again, breath punching out in a high, shattered whine as the pressure surges back vicious and immediate.

“see?” he rasps, holding you there, grinding shallow but deep enough to torment. “that’s all you get right now. just enough to keep you stupid and wet and beggin’. you wanna come so bad you’re shakin’—thighs burnin’, pussy leakin’ down my balls—but you don’t get to. not till i say.”

your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving red crescents. tears slip free now, tracking hot down your cheeks. “i’ll do anything—please—toji—i’m sorry—i’ll come back—i’ll pay next time—just let me—”

he chuckles, low and cruel, the sound vibrating through his chest into yours. “you’ll come back anyway. broke little college girl with a taste for premium shit and a pussy that can’t say no. but tonight?” he pulls back just enough to let the head stretch your entrance wide—cold air hitting your soaked folds for a heartbeat—before sinking back in slow, torturously slow, until he’s buried again. “tonight you learn patience.”

he starts moving again—not thrusting, not really—just tiny, shallow rolls of his hips that drag the thick ridge of his cockhead over that swollen spot inside you over and over. it’s not enough to push you over. it’s exactly enough to keep you teetering—pressure building, coiling tighter, hotter, meaner with every denied peak.

your legs shake violently in his hold, thighs quivering from being forced so wide for so long. your cunt flutters uselessly around him, slick gushing in frustrated little pulses that drip down his shaft, coating his balls, making every tiny movement wetter, louder.

“toji—” your voice cracks, raw and pleading. “it hurts—need to come—please—”

“i know it hurts, princess,” he soothes, almost gentle, but the words are filthy. “that’s the point. hurts so good you’re cryin’. pussy’s so sensitive now every little grind feels like too much. but you’re gonna take it. gonna sit here stuffed and shakin’ till i decide you’ve earned the right to fall apart.”

he leans in, lips brushing yours—not kissing, just teasing. “tell me you’ll come back next week. tell me you’ll show up short again. tell me you’ll let me edge this greedy cunt till you’re sobbin’ for it.”

you’re nodding before the words even register—frantic, desperate, tears streaming.

“yes—yes—i’ll come back—i’ll be short—i’ll beg—just please—”

he groans low, hips stuttering for a second like your words hit him hard. but he doesn’t give in.

instead he stills again—buried deep, throbbing, unmoving—watching your face crumple with fresh frustration, listening to the broken little sounds you can’t hold back.

“good girl,” he murmurs, thumb brushing a tear from your cheek. “next position,” he says casually, like he’s discussing the weather, already lifting you off the table. “bend over the couch this time. wanna see that ass bounce while i decide if you’ve earned the right to come at all.”

he doesn’t pull out. he just holds you there—still pinned against the table, legs hooked wide over his elbows, thighs trembling from the stretch, cunt stuffed full and throbbing around every thick inch of him. the denied orgasm still simmers under your skin, a low, angry buzz that makes every tiny shift of his hips feel like torture. your walls keep fluttering, clenching down hard in frustrated little pulses, trying to drag him deeper, to force the friction you’re starving for, but he stays perfectly still, letting you feel the full, heavy stretch without giving you a single thrust.

“feel that?” he murmurs, voice low and rough against your ear, breath hot enough to make you shiver. “how full you are? how deep i’m sittin’? every fuckin’ vein, every ridge—you’re grippin’ me like you’re scared i’ll disappear if you let go.”

you whimper, head thumping weakly back against the brick, tears of frustration clinging to your lashes again. your clit is swollen and untouched now, pulsing in time with your heartbeat, so sensitive that even the faint brush of his pelvis when he breathes makes your hips twitch involuntarily.

“toji—please—” the word cracks, barely more than a breath. “just—move. anything. i can’t—”

“can’t take it?” he finishes for you, smirking slow and mean. one hand slides up the back of your thigh, fingers digging in harder to keep your leg spread wide while the other braces against the wall beside your head, caging you in completely. “poor baby. got the whole cock now and still cryin’ for more. thought you were gonna come so pretty for me a minute ago. now look at you—shakin’, drippin’, beggin’ like a broke little whore who knows she’s gotta earn it.”

he rolls his hips once—barely an inch, just enough to drag the head along your front wall in a slow, deliberate grind that makes your breath hitch and your cunt spasm hard around him. the pressure flares bright and vicious, pushing you right back to that razor edge you were hovering on before he stopped, but he freezes again the second your thighs start to lock.

“no—no—no—” you sob, voice breaking, nails scraping uselessly down his shoulders. “don’t—don’t stop again—”

“then stay still,” he growls, low and dangerous, forehead pressed to yours now so you can’t hide your face. “you twitch, you grind, you try to fuck yourself on me? i stop. simple. i wanna feel this pussy cry for it. wanna feel how bad it wants to come without me givin’ it permission.”

your whole body is trembling—legs aching from being held so wide, cunt throbbing with every heartbeat, slick dripping steadily down where you’re joined, pooling on the floor beneath you in tiny, obscene drops. the denial is excruciating; every denied peak makes the next one build faster, meaner, until you’re not even sure you could come even if he let you. it’s too much pressure, too much need, coiled so tight it hurts.

“toji—” you whisper, voice wrecked and small. “i’m sorry. i’m sorry i came short. i’m sorry i’m broke. just—please—”

he exhales slow through his nose, eyes dark and unreadable as he watches another tear slip down your cheek.

“sorry ain’t enough anymore,” he says quietly, almost gentle, but the edge is still there. “you wanna come? you gotta convince me this tight little cunt is worth keepin’ around. tell me why i should let you fall apart on my cock when you couldn’t even bring enough cash to buy a gram.”

you swallow hard, throat clicking, words tumbling out in a desperate rush.

“because—because i’ll come back,” you choke. “i’ll come back every time. every time shoko needs more, every time i need to study, every time rent’s due and i’m short again. i’ll let you fuck me however you want. on my knees, bent over the table, against the wall—whatever. just—please let me come. please let me keep this.”

he’s quiet for a long second, cock twitching once inside you like your words hit something deep.

then he leans in, lips brushing the corner of your mouth—not a kiss, just a tease.

“good start,” he murmurs. “keep talkin’. keep tellin’ me how bad you need this cock to be your new payment plan. maybe—if you’re convincin’ enough—i’ll give you one slow thrust. just one. see if you can handle even that without fallin’ apart.”

your breath shudders out, body shaking harder, cunt clenching desperately around him as you start whispering again—broken, filthy promises, every word dripping with need—while he holds you there, spread wide and stuffed full, letting the denial burn hotter and hotter without mercy.

he finally shifts—slow, deliberate, like every decision is still his to make.

“alright,” he mutters, voice thick with restraint that’s starting to crack. “you’ve begged pretty enough. let’s see how that pussy takes it when your face is buried and your ass is up.”

he pulls out in one long, torturous drag that makes your walls flutter and clench around nothing, a broken whine spilling from your lips at the sudden emptiness. slick strings between you, thick and glistening, dripping down your inner thighs as he lowers your legs. they shake so hard you almost collapse, but his hands are already on your hips—firm, bruising—spinning you around so your front is to the couch.

“hands on the backrest,” he orders, low and rough. “ass up. spread those knees.”

you obey on trembling limbs, palms slapping against the worn faux leather, knees sinking into the cushion as you arch your back, presenting yourself. skirt still bunched around your waist, panties shoved aside and soaked through, cunt swollen and dripping, pulsing visibly in the dim light. the cool air hits your exposed skin and makes you shiver, clit throbbing painfully from all the denied peaks.

toji steps up behind you, one big hand sliding up your spine to press between your shoulder blades, forcing your chest down until your cheek smushes against the couch—fabric rough and smelling faintly of old sweat and smoke. your ass lifts higher, legs spread wide, thighs quivering from the stretch and the anticipation.

“fuckin’ look at this,” he breathes, voice reverent and filthy all at once. rough palms spread your cheeks wider, thumbs pulling your folds apart so he can see everything—how puffy and wet you are, how your hole clenches around nothing like it’s begging. “drippin’ down your thighs. pussy’s cryin’ for it. been cryin’ since you walked in short on cash.”

you whimper into the cushion, hips rocking back instinctively.

“stay,” he growls, one hand clamping on your hip to still you. the blunt head of his cock nudges your entrance—hot, slick, impossibly thick—then sinks in slow, one devastating inch at a time, until his hips meet your ass and he’s buried to the hilt again.

the new angle is brutal. deeper. the head presses right against your cervix, stretching you so full your breath catches, walls spasming hard around every ridge and vein. gravity and the arch of your back let him bottom out completely, pelvis flush against your ass, balls pressed tight to your clit.

“oh—fuck—” you choke, voice muffled against the couch, fingers clawing at the leather.

he doesn’t move right away. just holds there, letting you feel him throb inside you, letting the stretch settle into your bones.

“feel that?” he rasps, voice gravel-rough. “whole cock. no more teasin’. this is what you earned, princess. now take it.”

he pulls out slow—agonizingly slow—until just the head stretches your rim, then slams back in hard enough to make the couch creak and your whole body jolt forward. the slap of skin on skin is loud, wet, obscene. every thrust punches a broken sound out of you—high, needy, wordless at first, then spilling into actual words.

“toji—oh god—toji—yes—fuck—deeper—”

he sets a punishing rhythm now—no more shallow games. long, hard strokes that drag every inch along your walls, bottoming out with a wet smack each time, his balls slapping against your clit on every plunge. the pressure builds fast—too fast—after all the edging, after every stolen orgasm. it coils low and vicious in your belly, tighter with every thrust, every grind of his hips when he bottoms out and circles there, stirring his cock inside you like he’s trying to rearrange your guts.

“gonna—gonna come—” you gasp, voice cracking, back arching harder, ass pushing back to meet him. “please—please let me—need to—”

“yeah,” he growls, one hand sliding around to find your clit—thumb pressing hard, rubbing fast, rough circles that match his thrusts. “come. fuckin’ come on my cock. soak it. show me you’re mine.”

the permission snaps something inside you.

your whole body locks up—thighs shaking, toes curling, cunt clamping down so hard around him it feels like you’re trying to trap him there forever. the orgasm rips through you like lightning—white-hot, blinding, shattering. you scream into the couch, voice raw and wrecked.

“toji—fuck—coming—coming so hard—oh god—yes—yes—”

he doesn’t stop. doesn’t slow. fucks you straight through it—harder, deeper—each thrust prolonging the waves, dragging them out until you’re shaking uncontrollably, slick gushing around his cock in messy pulses, dripping down your thighs, soaking the couch beneath you. your walls flutter and spasm wildly, milking him, and he groans low, hips stuttering for the first time as he feels you fall apart completely.

“that’s it—fuck—good girl—keep comin’—milk me—fuck—”

he keeps pounding through the aftershocks, through the way your body jerks and twitches, oversensitive and trembling, until your moans turn into soft, broken whimpers, until you’re boneless against the couch, ass still up, legs shaking, cunt still clenching weakly around him with every slow grind he gives you now.

he leans over you, chest to your back, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“good fuckin’ girl,” he murmurs, voice hoarse. “came so pretty for me. now breathe. we’re not done yet.”

your body is still convulsing, walls clenching and releasing in erratic waves around his cock, every nerve ending firing off like exposed wires in a storm. the orgasm hasn't fully ebbed yet—it's still crashing through you, hot and relentless, making your thighs quiver uncontrollably against the couch cushion, your toes curling so hard they ache. slick gushes with every spasm, soaking the faux leather beneath you, the wet sounds obscene and echoing in the dim room as toji doesn't stop—doesn't even slow. he keeps thrusting through it all, long and deep and deliberate, each roll of his hips dragging his thick length along your oversensitive walls, grinding against that swollen spot inside that sends fresh sparks up your spine even as you whimper and twitch from the intensity.

“toji—too much—fuck—it's too sensitive—” you whine, voice muffled against the couch, raw and breaking on every syllable, your cheek scraping the rough fabric with every jolt of his hips. tears prickle at the corners of your eyes again, not from pain but from the overwhelming flood of sensation, your clit throbbing painfully where his balls slap against it on every plunge, your cunt fluttering wildly like it doesn't know whether to push him out or pull him deeper.

he chuckles low and rough behind you, the sound vibrating through his chest and into your back where he's leaning over you now, one big hand planted beside your head for leverage. “shh, baby, i know—i know it's too much,” he murmurs, voice gone soft and praising even as his cock keeps splitting you open, slow and unyielding. “but you're doin' so good for me. takin' it like a champ. just breathe through it—yeah, just like that. good girl. you can handle a little more, can't you? for that special stash? for me?”

his free hand slides up the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your sweat-damp hair—thick, calloused digits gathering a fistful of strands, wrapping them tight around his palm like a leash. he tugs—sharp but not cruel—yanking your head back off the couch so your back arches deeper, throat exposed, face tilting up toward the ceiling where the dim fluorescent lights blur through your tears. the pull stings at your scalp, a delicious burn that mixes with the overstimulation between your legs, making your whole body arch and tremble harder, your ass pressing back against his hips on instinct even as you sob out another plea.

“please—toji—can't—too sensitive—ah—”

“you can,” he praises, voice hot and gravelly against the shell of your ear, his breath damp and ragged from how hard he's holding himself back. “you're my good little slut, remember? comin' so pretty for me already, but we're not done. you're gonna get through this—gonna let me fuck you full 'til you're drippin' with me. then you'll get high soon, baby—real high. i'm gonna give you that new shit, the stuff that'll make your whole body float, make your pussy clench just from breathin' it in. i know you can't wait for that—can feel how you're still squeezin' me even when you're whinin' it's too much.”

he punctuates the words with a sharp slap to your ass—his big palm cracking down on the flesh where it jiggles from his thrusts, the sound echoing loud and wet in the room, the sting blooming hot and immediate across your skin. it makes you yelp, a high-pitched “fuck—toji—” slipping out as your cunt clamps down harder around him in response, fresh slick flooding out around his cock, dripping down your thighs and onto the couch below. the slap leaves a red handprint you can already feel heating up, throbbing in time with your heartbeat, and he rubs it immediately after—rough palm soothing the burn even as he tugs your hair tighter, keeping your head pulled back so he can watch your face twist in the dim light.

“see? that's it—good girl,” he groans, hips rolling slower now but deeper, gentler through the aftershocks, fucking you through the tail end of your orgasm with long, languid strokes that drag every inch along your fluttering walls. “whinin' so sweet but your pussy's lovin' it—still suckin' me in like you don't want me to stop. you're gonna get somethin' shoko never does, baby. somethin' special just for you. 'cause shoko never sucked my dick like you did—never got on her knees and choked on it for a discount. and she sure as hell never let me fuck her raw like this, never spread her legs and begged me to fill her up.”

his words sink in hot and filthy, mixing with the sensory overload—the way his cock feels impossibly thicker now, veins pulsing against your walls with every slow grind, the wet schlick of your arousal every time he bottoms out, the sting in your scalp from his fist in your hair, the lingering burn on your ass from that slap. your body is a live wire, oversensitive everywhere—clit pulsing with every brush of his balls, nipples hard and scraping against the couch fabric, thighs slick and trembling from the constant spread. the room smells thick with sex—sweat and musk and the sharp tang of your release—and the air is humid, sticking to your skin like a second layer.

“toji—oh god—gonna—again—” you gasp, voice shattering as the overstimulation flips into something sharper, hotter, the gentle thrusts building a new pressure fast, your cunt starting to flutter again in warning spasms.

“that's right—good girl—let it build,” he praises, tugging your hair just a little harder to arch you more, his other hand sliding around to grip your hip, fingers digging in to hold you steady as he keeps that slow, relentless pace. “you're doin' so fuckin' good—whinin' 'bout how sensitive you are but still pushin' back for more. i know it's too much, baby—i know—but you're gonna get through it. gonna come again for me, aren't you? gonna soak my cock and squirt all over this couch like the desperate little thing you are.”

his words push you closer, the praise wrapping around the sensitivity like fuel, making every thrust feel like it's scraping raw nerves in the best way. he picks up the pace just a fraction—still gentle, still fucking you through it—but enough to make your ass jiggle with every slap of his hips, enough to make fresh tears spill down your cheeks as the coil tightens impossibly fast. your cunt clenches hard, walls milking him in rhythmic pulses, slick building and building until—

“toji, fuck—coming—i'm squirting. . . oh god—”

it hits like a flood—sharp and sudden, your whole body seizing up as you squirt hard around his cock, clear fluid gushing out in messy spurts with every thrust, soaking his thighs, his balls, dripping down onto the couch in hot, wet puddles that spread dark stains across the faux leather. you scream into the air now—head pulled back by his fist in your hair, throat raw and exposed—the sound high and broken, “yes, yes—toji—fuuuck. too much—too good—” as he keeps moving, keeps grinding deep through the squirt, prolonging it until you're shaking violently, legs trying to close but held open by the position, ass up and trembling.

“fuck yes, good girl. . . squirtin' all over my couch like that,” he groans, voice thick with pride and hunger, his thrusts never faltering, cock throbbing harder inside you as your release coats everything. “that's what i wanted—look at this mess, my good little student payin' with her pussy and makin' it rain. you're doin' perfect, baby, keep goin', let it all out.”

he fucks you through the entire thing—gentle but insistent, dragging out every last spasm until your body's limp and spent, still twitching weakly around him, slick pooling beneath you on the couch, dripping down your legs in sticky trails. your whines turn soft and breathless, sensitivity peaking into something almost unbearable, but his praise keeps you grounded.

finally, he slows—still buried deep, cock pulsing hot inside you—but his thrusts ease into shallow rolls, letting you catch your breath as he releases your hair, hand sliding down to rub soothing circles on your back, the other still gripping your hip like he owns it. the room spins slow around you, body boneless and buzzing, the afterglow mixing with the promise of more as he leans down, lips brushing your shoulder.

“that's my girl,” he murmurs, voice soft now, almost tender. “you did so good. now breathe—'cause i'm not done fillin' you up yet.”

he’s still buried deep, hips flush against your ass, cock throbbing hot and heavy inside your oversensitive cunt as the last tremors of your squirt ripple through you. your body is limp and shaking, cheek smushed sideways against the couch cushion, drool pooling under your open mouth, hair tangled and sweat-soaked from where he’d fisted it earlier. every shallow breath you take makes your walls flutter weakly around him, milking him in soft, involuntary pulses even though you’re too wrecked to clench on purpose anymore.

toji’s breathing is ragged now—short, harsh exhales through his nose that fan hot against the nape of your neck. his big hands are braced on either side of your hips, knuckles white against the faux leather, veins bulging along his forearms as he holds himself perfectly still for a long moment, letting you feel every thick inch of him pulse inside you. the room is quiet except for the wet, sticky sounds of your combined breathing and the faint drip-drip of your release still leaking from where you’re joined, pooling in dark, glistening spots on the couch below.

“fuck,” he rasps, voice cracked and low, almost reverent. “look at you—still twitchin’ around me even after all that. pussy’s greedy as hell, baby. still tryin’ to keep me in even when you’re cryin’ it’s too much.”

you make a soft, broken sound—half whimper, half moan—too exhausted to form real words. your thighs tremble violently where they’re spread, muscles jumping every time his cock gives another lazy throb deep inside you. the overstimulation has turned everything raw: your clit is swollen and hypersensitive, brushing his balls with every tiny shift; your walls feel bruised and tender but still fluttering like they can’t decide whether to push him out or pull him deeper.

he leans down slowly, chest pressing to your back, the weight of him pinning you harder against the couch. one hand slides up your side—rough palm dragging over sweat-slick skin—until thick fingers wrap around the front of your throat, not squeezing, just holding, thumb stroking the frantic pulse there.

“gonna come,” he mutters against your ear, voice gravel and heat, hips starting to roll again—slow, deep grinds that make you gasp sharp every time he bottoms out. “been holdin’ back so long—fuuuck—your pussy’s too good. too wet. too tight. gonna fill you up, princess.”

your breath hitches. “toji—wait—”

but he doesn’t wait.

he doesn’t even ask properly.

“can i come inside?” he growls low, the words more demand than question, hips already picking up speed—short, hard thrusts now that punch the air from your lungs and make the couch creak under you both. “gonna come inside this pretty cunt—gonna pump you so full—”

you open your mouth to answer—yes, no, please, anything—but the word never makes it out.

he slams in one last time—deep, brutal, hips locking flush against your ass—and groans long and rough into your hair as he starts to come.

it’s thick.

it’s too much.

hot, heavy spurts flood you immediately, so copious you can actually feel the pressure build inside, feel every pulse of his cock as he empties himself deep in your core. rope after thick rope paints your walls, filling you until there’s nowhere left for it to go. the excess forces its way out around his shaft—creamy white leaking from where you’re stretched tight around him, dripping in slow, sticky trails down your inner thighs, splattering onto the couch cushion below in messy little puddles that mix with your own release.

“fuuuuck—take it, take every drop. . ” he grunts through clenched teeth, hips stuttering as he grinds through his orgasm, milking himself dry inside you. each shallow roll makes more leak out, the wet squelch loud and filthy in the quiet room, the sensation of being so full—so overflowing—making fresh tears slip down your cheeks even as your cunt clenches weakly around him, trying to keep it all in.

you whimper brokenly, body trembling under the weight of him, the stretch, the heat, the sheer volume of his release spilling out of you and ruining the couch even more. it’s dripping steadily now—thick strands connecting his balls to your swollen folds every time he shifts, pooling beneath you in a warm, sticky mess that soaks into the already-stained leather.

he stays buried deep for long seconds after the last pulse, breathing hard against your shoulder, cock still twitching inside you like it’s not ready to stop. one hand slides down between your thighs—fingers spreading your folds so he can watch his cum leak out in slow, obscene rivulets, thumb brushing over your oversensitive clit just once, making you jerk and sob.

“look at that,” he murmurs, voice wrecked and satisfied, almost awed. “filled you so full it’s pourin’ out. my good girl. . .takin’ all of it like you were made for it.”

he finally eases back—slow, careful—until his softening cock slips free with a wet pop. a thick gush of cum follows immediately, spilling from your gaping hole in a hot, creamy rush that drips down your thighs and onto the ruined couch, the sight so filthy it makes your face burn even through the haze.

he steps back just enough to admire it—hands spreading your cheeks again so he can see the mess he made: your pussy puffy and red, fluttering weakly, cum leaking in slow, viscous strands that stretch and break as gravity pulls them down.

“perfect,” he breathes, thumb swiping through the mess and pushing some of it back inside you like he’s marking his territory one last time. “now you’re really paid up, princess.”

he leans down, lips brushing the shell of your ear, voice dropping to a rough whisper.

“stay just like that a minute. let it drip. then i’m takin’ you to the back. gonna roll you the fattest joint you’ve ever seen. somethin’ special. somethin’ that’ll have you floatin’ so high you forget your own name.”

you can only nod weakly against the couch, body boneless, thighs shaking, pussy still twitching and leaking his cum in slow, lazy drops as the aftershocks hum through you.

he chuckles soft—almost fond—and gives your ass one last gentle pat.

“good girl. you earned it.”

toji exhales slow and ragged, still catching his breath as he finally pulls back enough to look down at the mess he’s made of you. your ass is still up, face half-buried in the couch cushion, thighs trembling and slick with sweat, your pussy swollen and gaping slightly from how thoroughly he’s fucked you open. thick ropes of his cum are leaking out in lazy, creamy dribbles—sliding down your inner thighs in slow, viscous trails, pooling on the already-ruined leather below in warm, sticky puddles that glisten under the dim back-room lights.

he lets out a low, appreciative hum, one big hand smoothing down the curve of your spine like he’s petting something precious.

“fuckin’ beautiful,” he mutters, voice hoarse and wrecked. “look at this—pussy’s still twitchin’, pushin’ more of me out like it doesn’t wanna let go.”

before you can even try to move—or whimper another plea—he drops to his knees behind you.

the couch creaks as his weight shifts. rough palms slide up the backs of your thighs, spreading you wider again, thumbs hooking into the soft flesh just under your ass to hold you open. you feel the heat of his breath first—hot and damp against your oversensitive folds—then the flat of his tongue.

he licks a long, slow stripe from your clit all the way up to your leaking entrance, collecting the thick mixture of his cum and your slick in one deliberate pass. the texture is obscene: warm, salty, bitter-sweet, coating his tongue as he groans deep in his throat at the taste. he doesn’t swallow. he just keeps going—lapping at you like he’s cleaning every drop, tongue dipping inside your fluttering hole to scoop out more, swirling around your swollen clit in lazy circles that make your hips jerk despite how spent you are.

“toji. . . fuck, sensitive—” you gasp, voice cracking, trying to squirm away but his hands clamp down harder, pinning your thighs in place.

“stay,” he growls against your cunt, the vibration making you whine. “let me clean you up, baby. you made such a pretty mess—gonna taste every bit of it.”

he works methodically—broad strokes of his tongue dragging through your folds, sucking gently at your entrance to pull more cum into his mouth, lips sealing around your clit for a second just to hear you sob. the sounds are filthy: wet slurps, soft groans from deep in his chest, the occasional drip of excess that he catches before it falls. your thighs shake harder, oversensitive nerves firing off sparks every time his tongue flicks over your clit or pushes inside to chase another thick glob of his release.

when he’s satisfied—when your pussy is glistening clean but still puffy and flushed—he finally pulls back. his lips and chin are shiny with the mess, cheeks flushed, eyes dark and heavy-lidded. he doesn’t swallow. instead he rises slow, knees cracking faintly, and reaches down to help you shift.

“c’mere,” he murmurs, voice rough but softer now.

strong hands slide under your arms, lifting you gently off the couch like you weigh nothing. your legs are jelly—barely able to hold you—but he doesn’t let you fall. he turns you around, sits on the edge of the couch himself, then pulls you down onto his lap so you’re straddling him properly this time, facing him, knees planted on either side of his hips. your skirt is still rucked up around your waist, cum-smeared thighs sticking to his sweatpants, but he doesn’t care. one arm bands around your lower back to keep you close, the other hand cups the back of your neck, thumb stroking along your jaw.

your faces are inches apart now. you can see every detail: the sweat beading at his temples, the faint scar at the corner of his mouth, the way his pupils are blown wide and dark with something that looks almost like reverence.

he leans in slow—giving you time to pull away if you wanted to—and kisses you.

it’s not gentle. it’s deep and possessive from the first second. his tongue pushes past your lips immediately, carrying the thick, salty-bitter taste of his own cum mixed with your slick. he feeds it to you deliberately—slow sweeps of his tongue against yours, letting you taste every drop he’d gathered from between your legs. the flavor coats your mouth: warm, musky, faintly metallic, the unmistakable evidence of how thoroughly he’d filled you. you make a small, helpless sound into the kiss—half moan, half whimper—as he tilts your head to deepen it, tongue curling around yours to make sure you swallow every bit he’s offering.

his hand tightens on the back of your neck, keeping you right there while the other slides down to grip your ass, pulling you flush against him so you can feel the softening weight of his cock pressed between you, still slick with the remnants of both of you.

he breaks the kiss just enough to speak against your lips, voice low and gravel-rough.

“taste that?” he murmurs, thumb brushing over your swollen bottom lip, smearing a last trace of cum across it. “that’s what you do to me, princess. that’s what you earned.”

you’re too wrecked to answer—only nod weakly, lips tingling, mouth full of the taste of him, body still humming with aftershocks and the slow drip of what’s left inside you. he kisses you again—slower this time, almost lazy, like he’s savoring the mess he’s made of you both.

when he finally pulls back, he rests his forehead against yours, breathing hard, one hand still cradling your face.

“stay right here,” he says quietly, almost soft. “gonna get that joint rolled. gonna make sure you float so high you forget how sensitive this little pussy is right now.”

he presses one last kiss to the corner of your mouth—gentle, almost sweet—then eases you off his lap onto the couch beside him, tucking your skirt down absently like it matters.

“don’t move,” he adds with a crooked grin, standing on legs that are still a little unsteady. “you’ve earned every fuckin’ puff.”

you’re slumped on the edge of the couch now, legs pressed together like that’ll somehow stop the dull, delicious ache between them. your skirt is smoothed back down—mostly—panties readjusted but still damp and clinging uncomfortably, cotton soaked through with the mix of both of you. every tiny shift makes your sore pussy throb, a reminder of how thoroughly toji stretched and filled you, how much cum he pumped inside until it leaked out in thick, creamy rivers despite your body trying to keep it all. your thighs are sticky, skin still flushed and sensitive, and when you cross your legs it sends a fresh, traitorous pulse straight to your clit. your legs tremble faintly when you try to stand, so you stay seated, phone pressed to your ear, trying to sound normal.

shoko’s voice crackles through the speaker on full blast because your hands are too shaky to hold it steady.

“what the fuck is taking you so long?” she drawls, lazy and annoyed, the unmistakable clink of ice in a glass in the background. “you’ve been gone for like two hours. did he rob you? did you get lost in the weight room? blink twice if you need rescue.”

in the background gojo’s voice cuts in, loud and obnoxious as always. “she’s probably negotiating with her tits out. classic y/n move. did you flash him yet? show the goods for the discount?”

geto’s quieter laugh follows, warm and amused. “she’s fine. probably just haggling. or getting high without us. rude.”

you pinch the bridge of your nose, trying to keep your voice even even though your cunt is still pulsing with aftershocks and you can feel another slow trickle of toji’s cum leaking out, soaking into the already-ruined fabric of your panties.

“i’m not flashing anyone,” you snap, voice a little too high, a little too breathless. “and i’m not getting high without you assholes. he’s just… slow. packaging shit. you know how dealers are.”

shoko snorts. “uh-huh. sure. you sound weird. out of breath. did he make you run laps or something?”

gojo cackles. “laps on his dick maybe—”

“shut the fuck up, satoru,” you hiss, cheeks burning so hot you’re grateful no one can see you right now. “i’m fine. i’ve got the stash. i’m coming back in a few minutes. and don’t be a bitch about it—this is your fault. you’re the one who ran out the day before our presentation and sent me into shinjuku like some sacrificial lamb because ‘he likes new girls’ and ‘you’ve got tits he hasn’t seen yet.’ so sit your ass down, sip your wine, and wait.”

shoko laughs—low, smug, unbothered. “okay, okay, princess. just hurry up. gojo’s already eaten half the pizza and geto’s about to start the second season without you.”

“we’re not starting without her,” geto says mildly in the background. “she’s the only one who remembers the plot anyway.”

“then tell gojo to stop being a gremlin and save me a slice,” you mutter. “i’ll be there in—”

the couch dips beside you.

toji drops down heavy and casual, like he didn’t just ruin you against a wall and on this very couch ten minutes ago. he’s shirtless again, sweatpants slung low, that same lazy, predatory grin curling his mouth as he sets the small black box on the cushion between you. he flips it open one-handed, pulls out several dense, glittering nugs—deep purples and greens flecked with crystals—and starts dropping them into a couple of small ziplocks with practiced flicks of his thick fingers.

your breath catches. he’s close enough that you can smell him again—sweat, musk, sex, the faint citrus of whatever cleaner he uses in this grimy gym—and feel the heat radiating off his bare skin. your sore pussy gives a weak, traitorous flutter at the proximity, a reminder of how full he’d been, how much he’d left inside you.

shoko’s still talking. “—and if you don’t bring at least an eighth i’m not letting you hit the indica. you know the rules.”

toji glances at you sideways, eyes glinting with amusement as he seals one bag, then another. he leans in just enough that his shoulder brushes yours, voice dropping to a murmur only you can hear while shoko rambles on.

“tell her you got more than an eighth,” he says quietly, lips barely moving. “tell her you earned the premium shit. the stuff that makes you see colors.”

you swallow hard, thighs pressing together again as another slow drip escapes you, warm and thick against your folds.

“i’ve got it,” you say into the phone, trying to sound annoyed instead of wrecked. “more than an eighth. premium. the good shit. i’ll be there in a few minutes with the fucking stash. stop bitching.”

shoko starts to say something else—probably another smartass comment—but you don’t wait.

you hang up.

the second the call ends you let out a shaky breath, shoulders slumping. your legs are still trembling faintly, pussy sore and swollen, every shift reminding you of the stretch, the fullness, the way he’d fucked you through your orgasm until you squirted all over his couch. and now you’re sitting here leaking his cum while he casually packs weed like nothing happened.

toji chuckles low, sealing the last bag and sliding the small pile toward you—three fat eighths, easily, plus a couple extra grams in a separate little packet that looks different, darker, stickier.

“special stash,” he says simply, tapping the extra one. “like i promised. the one that makes your whole body float. makes your pussy clench just from breathin’ it. shoko’s never touched this shit.”

he leans back, one arm slung across the couch behind you, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

“you gonna be able to walk outta here, princess?” he asks, voice teasing but not cruel. “or you need me to carry you to your shitty civic?”

you glare at him—weakly—cheeks still flushed, legs still shaky, but you manage to snatch the bags and shove them into your purse with trembling fingers.

“i can walk,” you mutter, even though you’re not entirely sure. “just… give me a second.”

he grins wider, eyes dragging down your body like he’s remembering every position he had you in.

“take your time,” he says, voice dropping low again. “you earned it.”

you stand—slow, careful—thighs sticking together, a fresh trickle of his cum sliding down your inner thigh as you do. you ignore it. ignore the way your cunt throbs in protest. ignore the way toji watches every shaky step like he’s already planning round two.

you’re halfway to the door when he calls after you, casual as anything.

“next time you need more,” he says, “don’t send shoko. come yourself. cash or no cash.”

you don’t answer.

you just push through the door into the humid night air, legs trembling, pussy still leaking him, purse heavy with the best weed you’ve ever held—and the knowledge that you’re absolutely, irrevocably fucked.

in every sense of the word.

you stumble out of the gym into the thick july night, the door clanging shut behind you like the final punctuation on whatever the fuck just happened. the air is still sweltering, sticky against your skin, but it feels cooler than the humid back room you just left. your legs are jelly—every step sends a dull, throbbing reminder through your sore pussy, the sticky warmth of toji’s cum still leaking slow and thick into your panties, soaking the cotton until it clings uncomfortably between your folds. you have to pause once, leaning against the brick wall outside, breathing shallow through your nose as another trickle escapes and slides down your inner thigh. you press your legs together harder, trying to trap it, but it only makes your clit twitch in protest.

your purse feels heavier than it should—three fat eighths plus that extra special packet of the dark, sticky shit toji called “the one that makes your whole body float.” you can already smell it faintly through the ziplocks: sweet, earthy, with that sharp citrus edge that promises oblivion.

the civic is parked crookedly half a block away. you make it there on shaky legs, slide into the driver’s seat, and immediately regret it—the cracked faux leather is cold against the backs of your thighs, and sitting down presses everything sore and swollen right where it hurts most. you hiss through your teeth, shift your hips, try to find a position that doesn’t make you whimper. it doesn’t exist.

you start the car. the ac blasts lukewarm air that does nothing for the heat still radiating off your skin. your phone buzzes in the cup holder—shoko again. you ignore it, put the car in drive, and crawl through traffic like you’re ninety years old.

by the time you pull up to the apartment complex, your thighs are sticking together worse than before, and every bump in the road makes you bite your lip to keep from moaning. you kill the engine, sit there for a second with your forehead on the steering wheel, breathing slow. you can still taste him—salty, bitter, musky—coating the back of your tongue from that filthy kiss. your lips feel swollen. your whole body feels branded.

you grab your purse, step out carefully, and hobble toward the building like you’ve just run a marathon in heels you don’t own.

the door to shoko’s place is cracked open—music leaking out, low bass and laughter. you push inside.

the living room smells like pizza grease, weed residue from last week, and shoko’s signature cheap rosé. gojo’s sprawled on the floor in front of the tv, controller in hand, yelling at the screen. geto’s cross-legged on the couch, scrolling his phone, looking amused. shoko’s in the kitchen doorway, wine glass dangling from her fingers, one eyebrow already arched like she’s been waiting to dissect you.

they all look up at once.

gojo’s the first to speak, grin splitting wide and evil.

“holy shit. you look like you got hit by a truck. or fucked by one.”

shoko snorts into her glass. “told you. two hours? that’s rookie numbers for toji. what’d he do, make you lift weights first?”

geto doesn’t say anything, just tilts his head, dark eyes scanning you slowly—your flushed cheeks, the way you’re standing a little too carefully, legs pressed together, the faint tremor in your hands as you clutch your purse like a lifeline.

you force a scowl, hobble over to the couch, and drop down beside geto as gracefully as you can manage. the impact makes you wince—your pussy clenches involuntarily around nothing, a fresh gush of cum-soaked slick seeping out. you cross your legs tight, pray it doesn’t show through your skirt.

“here,” you mutter, yanking the ziplocks out of your purse and tossing them onto the coffee table. three fat eighths land with soft thuds, plus the smaller special packet that glints darker under the lamp. “premium. coma slut and whatever the fuck that extra shit is. happy now?”

shoko’s eyes widen. she sets her wine down, leans forward, picks up the special bag like it’s holy.

“wait. this is—the heavy one? the one he only gives out if you—”

she cuts herself off, looks at you again. really looks. at the way your mascara is smudged (you’d tried to wipe it in the car mirror but gave up), the faint red mark on your neck you hadn’t noticed until now, the way you’re sitting like every movement hurts in the best-worst way.

gojo crawls over on his knees, snatches one of the regular bags, cracks it open, inhales deep.

“smells like money and bad decisions,” he says cheerfully. then his eyes flick to you. “you smell like sex and gym mats, though. spill.”

“i don’t smell like anything,” you snap, too fast. your voice cracks on the end.

geto finally speaks, quiet and amused, not looking up from his phone.

“you’re walking funny.”

shoko’s grin turns downright demonic.

“oh my god. you didn’t just get the discount. you got the full toji experience.”

“shut up,” you hiss, cheeks burning. “he was just… slow. packaging took forever. that’s all.”

gojo cackles so hard he falls backward onto the carpet. “packaging. sure. with what? his dick?”

shoko picks up the special packet again, holds it up to the light.

“this shit? he doesn’t give this to anyone. not even me. and i’ve been buying from him for two years.” she looks at you like you’ve grown a second head. “what the hell did you do to him?”

you snatch the bag from her fingers, shove it back into your purse like it’s evidence you need to hide.

“nothing. i just—talked to him. negotiated. like a normal person.”

geto finally sets his phone down, leans back, arms crossed, smiling that calm, knowing smile that makes you want to die.

“you’re glowing,” he says simply. “and you smell like latex and regret. congratulations.”

gojo sits up, eyes sparkling with chaos.

“did he call you princess? did he make you say thank you? did he—”

“i’m going to the bathroom,” you announce, standing too fast. your legs wobble, pussy throbbing in protest, another slow drip escaping down your thigh. you clamp your legs together, ignore the way shoko’s eyes flick down and her grin widens.

“sure,” she calls after you. “wash his cum off your thighs and come back so we can smoke your hard-earned pussy discount.”

you flip her off without turning around, hobble down the hall, lock yourself in the bathroom, and sink onto the closed toilet lid with your head in your hands.

your phone buzzes.

unknown number.

you open it.

one message.

toji: next time bring cash. or don’t. either way, door’s open.

you stare at the screen for a long second, heart thudding, sore cunt giving one last weak flutter at the memory.

you delete the message.

then you screenshot it anyway.

because you’re already thinking about next time.

and you hate that you’re already thinking about next time.

you splash water on your face, fix your mascara as best you can, and head back out to the living room where your friends are waiting to roast you alive.

you’re fucked.

in every sense of the word.

and the worst part?

you kind of love it.

[haivelvet]

MY LEGS ARE OPEN

[polaroidsex]

🜼 ⋆ freak!choso has a habit of talking to you pussy like she’s her own person — likes & reblogs are appreciated!

choso’s got you laid out on the bed, thighs pushed apart by his broad shoulders, face buried between your legs like he’s worshipping. he’s so careful with your clit it almost hurts how gentle he is compared to the rest of him.

his tongue flicks out first, just the softest little kitten lick right over the swollen bud, and you twitch hard. he hums low against you, warm breath fanning over slick skin.

“so tiny,” he murmurs, voice all soft and reverent, lips brushing your clit as he talks. “look at it… my poor little thing. so small and sensitive.”

he presses the flat of his tongue right there, slow and broad, letting it rest for a second so you feel every bit of the wet heat before he starts rubbing tight, tiny circles. no rush or pressure. just perfect little loops that make your hips roll up without meaning to.

you whimper and he shushes you gently, one big hand sliding up your stomach to pet you soothingly while the other keeps your thigh spread wide.

“easy baby… let me take care of her.” another soft lick, then back to those maddening circles, so light it’s like he’s barely touching but you feel it everywhere. your clit throbs under his tongue, getting puffier, and he groans quietly like he’s the one getting spoiled.

“getting so hard for me… tiny clit swelling up so pretty.” he kisses it once, sweet and open-mouthed, then goes right back to rubbing, tighter now, faster by just a fraction. your legs start shaking and he doesn’t stop, doesn’t speed up too much, just keeps that steady gentle rhythm that builds and builds until you’re arching, gasping, fingers twisted in his hair.

“there you go… cum on my tongue, baby. let that little cunt pulse for me.”

you do. hard. thighs clamping around his head, whole body jerking as waves roll through you, and he just stays right there, licking soft and slow through every aftershock, kissing your oversensitive bud until you’re whining and tugging him up by the hair.

he finally pulls back, lips shiny, eyes dark and soft, thumb brushing one last feather-light circle over your twitching clit before he crawls up to kiss you deep.

“such a perfect tiny thing,” he whispers against your mouth. “all mine to take care of.”

[c0llisiion]

I miss cho

[merakidoll]

nanamis wife hated that he smoked cigarettes. in fact she hated everything he did, from the way he walked, to the way he talked, how he would come home late and never really utter a word. he was tired, but when he came to his office all he knew was peace. being a therapist was taxing, having to solve problems for others, and make sure he gives the right advice. it stressed him out, so cigarettes soothed it. the burning to his throat that bought him deep gratitude. he blew out the smoke, closing his eyes and bucking his hips. he looked down at your fat ass, you obediently bent over, light pink dress lifted and pussy engulfing him in slickness.

you were another thing his wife hated; and for good reason. she always said how you were too pretty yet so dumb. you we’re underqualified for the position, but he deserved you like he deserved his cigarettes. “you love how i’m filling you up huh bunny?” nanami smiled in bliss at your load moans. your nails dug into the nail scratches you made previously on his desk. your face on the white paper beneath you letting a small wet circle grow from your leaking mouth. you pushed your ass back standing on the tip of your heels feeling him go deeper. your chubby tummy was bloated. “g-god yes! yesss!” your cream made a ring on nanamis cock, ass slowly beginning to clap around him.

his eyes went in circles at the perfect wave you created. your pussy squeezed him tightly, his teeth digging into his lip while he groaned. he gripped your shoulder pulling out then slamming back in. he ignored your cries. using you for his pleasure as he saw fit. “nanami?” you would think his heart would drop, his wife’s voice loud and clear from behind the door. you whimpers, stilling your movements all until nanami slapped your ass, and started fucking you harder. the wet sounds were loud that you cursed your pussy. you prayed she didn’t hear them, or maybe you wanted her to? biting down on your hand you watched the door handle move as she tried entering the room. “hello?” nanami grabbed your hips letting his balls slap against your pussy. the cigarette that he would ocasnally puff hung from the side of his mouth.

letting go of you, he grabbed your face, then the cigarette and put it in your mouth. he smiled at you when you puffed on it, and it only grew wider at the pink gloss you left. you moaned out the smoke, coughing as your eyes rolled back to your scull. your pussy squeezed around him, the sounds of his wife falling to death ears for you. “nanami! answer right now!” nanami rolled his eyes kissing your lips, he moaned against you his cock jerking in your pussy.

“yes? sorry babe i’m in a meeting.” taking a pull from his cigarette he blew it to your lips watching you take what he gave you. his balls we’re heavy, the smell of smoking taking over the room coving up the sex smell. “why is the door locked?” pulling his hips back, he fastly pushed back in again, loudly groaning when squirt came from you and went over his desk. you beagn to moan loudly. his wife caught it right before he put his hand on your mouth continuing to fuck you. “what was that?” “i-it was my computer! mm t-the doors locked so i won’t get bothered it’s an important meeting” as he spoke his eyes were closed. his orgasm was there, one pump - then two, and your cunt was being stuffed. nanami came a lot, his thick cum painting your pink walls like it did almost everyday.

nanami bit your cheek, his wife still trying to get in but he didn’t care. his knees almost gave out. his balls so empty that he fell back in his office chair making you follow and sit on his lap. “hello? why do you keep ignoring me? when is it over? and where is that girl?” laying your head on his shoulder you watched him finish off his cigarette and give you forehead kisses, while his wife screamed through the door.

this is why nanami had guilty pleasures.

[yestodayys]

𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 - song mingi x fem reader

wc: 5.1k

cw: 18+ MINORS DNI!!!, recreational drug use (weed), porn with no plot at all apart from they love eachother, a lot of perving on mingi, dom!mingi and he does what he wants to you basically bc you want him so bad but he’s just as desperate, really they're down bad your honour

synopsis: you and your boyfriend are smoking and he looks too fucking good.

a/n: me thirsting over mingi as your resident stoner cousin but as a fic

sw: they fuck high but they’re both very consenting, masturbation (while u watch), nipple play (while he watch), a lot of manhandling, a lot of dirty talk like filthy stuff he doesn’t shut up please believe me, they're both sleazy and dirty, some degradation, like 2 lines of daddy kink because i do what i want, p in v unprotected, praise, big dick mingi and he knows how to use it, one line of ‘little girl’, wet messy dirty sex, begging, riding, backshots, talks to ur pussy, creampie, breeding kink kinda heavy

It’s all getting to be a bit too much. 

There’s way too much of your boyfriend’s skin exposed right now, and it’s too much to handle. Mingi's thighs are spread, muscular, honey toned skin contrasting deliciously against the black leather of the sofa, and a small rolling tray rests upon his lap. His dark baggy basketball shorts have rolled up with his movements to show those thick, thick thighs, and the dark hair littered across the softer skin that you can see has your mouth watering. Surely you must be ovulating, looking at your boyfriend like he’s a piece of meat that you could fucking devour right now, fingers twitching in your lap like they do when you want another toke except you want to suck on something else.

His black tank top ensures that you can see his arms, bulging slightly when he moves, and his big hands and his fingers… they’re long, dexterous, packing the weed into the paper. Not only were they deep inside of you last night, but they were shoved into your mouth afterwards, accompanied by a light tap to the face with his other hand, his plump lips curling up in a pleased snarl but his eyes filled with love and devotion. You sigh, body heating up. Your eyes rake his frame, and you land on his face. 

He’s smirking, and you see his tongue poke out between plump lips, hands bringing the paper to his mouth. Your brain becomes filled with thoughts of his tongue poking elsewhere, between your legs, against your pussy that must be sopping by now - something else he did last night, until you were crying and shaking after three orgasms and begging him to leave your poor clit be - he didn’t, forcing another one out of you with a dark chuckle until you really kicked at his chest with your socked foot.

“Mean,” He’d mumbled, eyes glinting with mischief as his long fingers wrapped around your ankle, catching your movements. He tutted, crawling over you. He’s so big that you shivered, stomach bubbling with arousal all over again. “After I just made your little cunt feel so nice too. Don’t tell me I have to split it all the way open to make you be a good girl for me.”

Your cheeks heat up. You clear your throat. The entire environment is making you dizzy, and you’re not sure if it’s the smoke dissipating across the room or the way Mingi just fucking is.

He must’ve finished rolling while you were staring, because he’s sealed the paper shut and he begins to pack the joint, wrapping his fingers around the cone and tapping the base of it down on the tray absentmindedly. You clear your throat again, rub your eyes as if it’s going to help and really, you expect to have gotten away with it - but while he’s making the jerking motion with his hand, his head rolls back against the couch and his eyes finally fixate on you. 

“Oh,” You sigh. It looks like he’s jerking off if you just look at his face, seeing the movement of his arm from the corner of your eyes. You feel like a teenager again, slicking up in your cotton panties over something so simple. 

His eyes are too intense, always are, always have been, and they’re half lidded now, the whites a little pink. He’s high. You know he’s high, because you’ve smoked two joints with him already, but you also know there’s something else swimming in there. He licks over his lips, slow smirk forming and you realise - he’s horny too, and he’s being crude about it. Your pussy pools in your underwear. “Mingi. Why-“

“What were you doing? Getting wet, perving on me?” He’s blunt about it, always has been since the start. It works on you, always has. He leans closer, making your breath hitch. You think you’ve gotten him without confessing to your desires openly, the smoke filled scent of him enveloping you. Suddenly it all stops, and he’s turning back to the tray, twisting the end of the joint. He’s smiling cheekily now, his teeth visible in the soft lamp light, the sudden change giving you whiplash - what is he doing to you? “You’re going to have to work harder than that, baby.”

“Wha- Mingi?!” You splutter, floored. “Okay, one, yes. I was perving on you. Two, Mingi, you’re easy.”

“I am,” Despite his words he’s like the cat who got the cream, the epitome of smug, slotting the joint between his plush lips. It hangs out of his mouth, and he discards the tray to the side table before turning back to you, spreading his thick thighs further, straining against the hem of his shorts. 

Your gaze goes down again, unable to control it when you’re buzzed. He’s hard. He’d swear he always is around you simply due to your presence, but it’s obvious when it’s Mingi because he’s so big, and it’s thick and long and heavy in there, tenting his shorts. You can see the outline of it - even the shape of his round, fat balls a bit lower down. He stretches his thighs open further, relaxes into it a bit because he knows you’re watching, and the way you heat up would be almost embarrassing if you didn’t know that he’s doing it deliberately. “This weed is supposed to make you a little horny. I’ve been horny as fuck. I can just jerk off and make you watch, though. I know you’d listen to me. Such a good girl, aren’t you?”

“You wouldn’t really do that,” You argue, having nothing to say to the second part because you would listen because you love him so badly. Would he do that? He’s typically dominant, sure, but he’s never denied your pleasure; he actually likes to give you so much of it that you’re sobbing and begging for him to ease up on you.

Mingi clicks the lighter and the joint is lit. You watch him inhale, the way his chest raises and the way it falls when he exhales. He licks over his bottom lip and smirks again, confident, nodding at the floor, “wouldn’t I? Get on your knees.”

“What?” You blink. He takes another drag and places the joint at your lips, allowing you to take a few drags. The weed is sharp, a stronger strain than what you’d normally get but with your big, high tolerance boyfriend staying for a couple of days, you had no choice. It’s not long before he’s tapping your hip, urging you onto the floor. When you don’t move, continuing to smoke, enjoying the way it makes your limbs tingle his hand comes down on your ass, a lot harder than the sweet taps he’s just given you.

“That’s enough now, baby. On your knees.”

Your head is spinning just from the few tokes you took, and you make the conclusion that the way he’s acting is making it worse. Still, you scurry to the floor, knees hitting the hardwood of your living in your pyjama trousers, mind fuzzy.

Mingi takes a second to examine you. Your chest is heaving already, and you haven’t dared touch, not until he says, and his teeth bite into his bottom lip as he watches you. He’s pretty up there, long, dark hair boyish in his eyes and he blows it out of the way when he exhales, jaw clicking. He moves the joint to the ashtray on the side table to free up his hands, and then he lifts his hips to push his shorts down those thick thighs.

He’s not wearing underwear underneath. It doesn’t surprise you, given the amount of detail you could see when he was clothed and also that he’s a massive slut for you, self-proclaimed, always trying to get your attention. He immediately takes his swollen shaft in his hand with a soft huff. Even with the size of his hands, his dick looks huge, thick and veiny in all the right places. His cockhead is a little pinker than the rest of it, flushed with arousal, and he’s so fucking hard too, swiping at the precum with his thumb. You’re pretty sure you’re about to have an aneurysm when he pushes it down to tap the tip against your lips. 

He grabs the joint, pushing the head of his cock between your lips. “Spit on it f’me, baby,” He exhales, and you feel debased by the way he’s still smoking while you do this, placing the end of the joint between those lips, one hand yanking up his shirt so that you can see the base of his tummy. The shape of his v-line is visible now, up to the bottom of his bellybutton and the trail of dark fuzzy hair that leads to his pubes. 

It’s only working to make you more aroused, and you let out a shaky breath before somehow pooling saliva on your tongue and spitting on his cockhead. The weed’s made your mouth a little dry, but it works - the wetness dripping over his shaft makes him groan instantly, and he uses his palm to rub over his piss slit and spread your spit all the way down. “That’s good, so good for me. Bet your pussy’s wetter, though. Is it all wet and messy? Bet your little clit’s swollen too, your hole clenching like it does when it wants me to ruin it.”

“Y-yes,” You stutter - you know it is, and Mingi chuckles. He knows it too, and the thought of it is driving him insane, head rolling against the sofa. He always babbles when he gets horny, lost in his own fantasies, spare hand gripping at the cushions. His own chest is heaving too now that he’s working at his cock, palm pumping his shaft. It’s hard for him to hold back already, and his eyes are low, watching your face as you stare down at his cock. “Can I- can I touch myself too?”

“No,” He’s abrupt, firm, despite how his cock is leaking like a faucet over the way you’re just sitting there, watching, so submissive for him, and it makes you whine. He jerks his cock, speeding up his hand, squeezing his tip until it leaks more pearly precum. It drips over his fingers and you moan, wanting nothing more than to lick it up, your tummy curling at the sight. His eyes scrutinise you, chest exhaling shaky breaths as he works himself to his orgasm. “Oh, you’re so fucking- pull your shirt up, gimme somethin’ to work with. Show me your tits, baby, show daddy.”

“Pervert,” You mumble, but you’re yanking the fabric upwards anyway because your pussy is too wet to think. As soon as he sees your skin, Mingi groans, and you swipe your thumb over one nipple for good measure. If it’s pissing him off that you’re touching yourself he doesn’t show it, only starting to leisurely fuck upwards into his fist, eyes fixated on you like you’re the best porn he’s ever seen, moans and whimpers tumbling from his lips. 

Your underwear is sticking to your pussy at this point, swollen bud throbbing for attention as he just waves his cock in front of you, the most tempted you’ve ever been - he’s too fucking hot, and he knows exactly how to get you going, one of the things you love about him. 

“I wanna fuck them, best fuckin’ tits I’ve seen,” He blurts, and you flush, letting your hands brush over them, cupping and jiggling the flesh. He moans high when you do it this time, sucking his teeth with furrowed eyebrows, so you do it again, and his hips buck into his fist. “Dirty- dirty girl, touchin’ your tits for me. My little pornstar, so pretty.”

“Mingi, please, I wanna-”

His other fist forms a circle around his cockhead, and he moans, long and gravelly, cutting you off. “Fu-uck, fuck, baby, wait,” He babbles, shaking his head, and his hips pick up pace. He’s fucking both fists as if they’re a pussy, and his eyes clench shut, head rolling back. You think you might cum at the sight of him, finally moving your hands to rub up his thighs to give him something and he whines this time, eyes looking at you like you’ve hung the moon - he can’t believe you let him treat you like this. It gets his dick rock hard every time, and he’s always so eager, handsy and pleading as much as he makes you take it. “No, almost- shit, get up here.”

You clamber to your feet almost immediately. It’s embarrassing, but Mingi’s hands have already moved from his cock, making their way to your waist, fingers digging into your flesh. He pulls you to sit yourself on top of him and hooks two fingers into your underwear, all so sudden, yanking them to the side. A web of arousal connects the fabric to your folds, and he licks his lips upon seeing your cunt, so pleased to see the hole that belongs to him. 

“That’s so fucking hot. Shit, you’re that wet from seeing me stroke my cock? Can I just put it in?” He asks, and you nod eagerly, moving closer to him with a hand on one broad shoulder. He’s wide, and you have to be spread wide to accommodate him, thighs lax over his and his overpowering presence making your tummy burn with arousal. You’re so close now that he yanks the t-shirt you’re wearing up - his, so big that it reaches your thighs, and lets his cock brush against your tummy with his movements. He’s impatient, lifting you up by your waist to bump his tip against your clit and let it slide through the mess of slick on your pussy. The glide is easy, his shaft slicking up with your arousal. “I’m gonna make you wait again if this is how wet you get, honey.”

He’s smiling wide, toothy, pleased, pushing his cock through your noisy, sticky folds over and over and you grumble. “Don’t you- fucking dare- god, give it- ah-“

He takes that moment to pull your hips down, sliding his cock inside of you, still effortlessly hard and so big. His lips part as if to prompt you to keep talking, eyebrow raising, but you’re rendered completely wordless on his lap. 

“Ah, there you go. That’s nice, isn’t it? Nice ‘n big,” Mingi thrusts up just once, letting himself get fully situated inside of you. He gives you the moment to adjust and reaches to the ashtray, lighting the joint once again. This time, he passes it to you, making sure you get your fix. It would be a nice gesture if his large palms didn’t immediately go to your ass, spreading your asscheeks open and planting his feet on the floor to thrust upwards hard.

“Mmngh- oh, oh my god, Mingi!” You keen, struggling to keep the joint in your hand. Still, you take your three puffs like a good girl just as he wanted and hold it to his lips yourself. He grinds into you so sensually, plump lips parted just enough to hold the joint between them as he inhales, eyes fixated on you as he shoves his cock deep and gets so stoned you’re not sure how he fucks you so good. He looks good now too, cheeks dusted pink from his high and eyes low, lips curled in a satisfied little smirk. He’s making sure you feel every overwhelming inch of him before he begins to chase his pleasure. “That’s good. Oh, Mingi, it’s so deep, s’good-“

“Shut up and take it, n-nasty little girl,” He mumbles, smoke tumbling from his mouth and you can tell by the way he says it that he’s hesitant to speak to you like that. The response he gets has him more confident. 

You keen, high and loud in your throat, and you’re so dizzy with it all, arms going limp yet still trying to grip onto his biceps for dear life. You let him manhandle you onto your back on the sofa and you don’t even complain when he blows smoke in your face with his other tokes. It’s erratic, the air is hot and heavy from the smoke and the passion is consistent between the two of you, making you struggle to focus - you’re just letting him do whatever he wants, as per usual, the way you both like it. He spreads your thighs wide, letting the pits of your knees rest on his forearms. 

The change in position only drives his dick deeper and you swear you can feel him deep in your guts, aided when his palms press flat against your tummy to keep you in place for him. Like this, he kisses you for the first time since you started playing, body curled over yours and joint discarded in the ashtray once again. 

Mingi would swear there’s nothing better than kissing you, not even a joint after a long day. He moans deeply into the kiss, hips moving on autopilot. The kiss is all tongue and teeth, tasting of weed, tongue licking over yours and his own teeth biting into your lip. 

Your pussy cries for him, wet slapping noises reverberating loud enough to drown the light music and your wet kisses out and Mingi looks ruined when he finally leans back again - his chest is flushed pink beneath his tank top, his lips covered in saliva and eyebrows pinched where he looks down at where you’re connected, his shaft slick with your juices. You get this wet for him every time and he mumbles something about this is why you’re made for him, your pussy forming a ring of white cream around his base, curling his pubes with it.

He moans, staccato and broken up by the slow, steady thrusts he’s giving you. “You’re so fucking wet, baby, so good for me, y-yeah? Shit, feels so good around my cock, I-“

“F-Faster,” You murmur, against his lips. He wraps your hair around his fist and pulls sharply, a warning, and you cry out in protest, feet thudding against his back. “Faster, faster, please, I’ve been good, want more!”

“You have, fuck, you have, taking me so good,” He muses, chest heaving, driving his cock inside of you over and over. He pulls his tank top off from behind his neck, and you’re suddenly exposed to way, way too much skin that you want to scratch and mark up and bite into, dragging your nails down his stomach like you love to do. 

Thankfully, he’s quick to crowd into your space, large palm pressing down on your stomach and fucking in sharply, making you feel it so deep you’re sure his cum is going to be there for days when he gives it to you. “I’ll give it to you, baby. Take this fat fucking cock, listen to this- this fucking messy cunt, talkin’ to me, tellin’ me how good I’m makin’ her feel.”

His hips snap against yours quicker now. You can hear it over the sounds of your wails, the sounds your hole makes as it gushes and throbs around his shaft, and you claw at his biceps. The heat licks at your stomach and his incessant thrusts don’t make it any better, the high he’s put you in making it feel too fucking good and he’s so big, so sexy, so yours - his lips meet yours for another few messy kisses, as speechless and pleasure drunk as you are, arms wrapping around your waist.

Mingi’s so close that your clit starts to grind on him, where the mess of dark hair is, and the sudden sensation makes you squeal into the crook of his neck, bucking upwards and fucking onto him. His fat cockhead reaches that spongey spot that makes you cross eyed and you do exactly that, going limp in his hold, pussy gripping so tight he has to push hard to move although you gush so messily, down to his balls.

“There it fuckin’ is, there it is,” He grunts, palm wrapping around your hip to pull you down against him. He bounces you in time with his thrusts, fucking against your g-spot until your eyes water and you finally bubble out a sob, eyes red and desperate. Mingi’s eyes focus back in on you and he curses, thumb swiping over your bottom lip. “Gonna cum on this big dick, nice and easy, aren’t you?”

His pubes stick to you with your arousal, and before long your pussy is clenching so tight he can barely pull out, only able to bounce you against him. It does the trick, keeping his cockhead focused on that spot, and you nod with a whimper; he nods back at you, fond. “I am, I am, mmngh- gonna cum so good for you, please, please-”

He coos, letting you suck his thumb, eyes full of adoration as if he isn’t fucking you like he hates you. He knows your body so well, knows what you like and what gets you off - he knew you were going to cum before you did, knows that the man you love fucking you braindead is what you love the most. “Let me feel you. You’re so close, aren’t you? Can feel it, this little cunt always squeezes so tight when you- o-oh, there- there it is, f- fuck, baby, shit-”

Your orgasm hits your whole body, cunt creaming on his wide shaft and making his own eyes roll at the wetness. He manages to fuck you through it, your toes curling amidst hard, deep thrusts that focus on your g-spot, and you cry Mingi’s name over and over as tears stream from your eyes. Your pussy throbs and throbs even as you come out of it, blinking through the damp of your tears to see your boyfriend’s face, the smug smile and still red eyes he has until he leans down to kiss your hairline.

“So sexy when you cum hard for me,” He murmurs, hips slowing to a gentle rock, until he leans backwards on his knees and pushes your legs apart, holding your legs in a vee. Even the gentle movement starts to feel overwhelming when he stretches you taut like this, and you whimper, nails scrabbling at the sofa. His abs flex as he holds you there, looking down at where you’re connected, where your abused pussy sucks his fat cock back in over and over despite your strangled little noises. “Gonna use you now. Gonna- gonna use you like my toy and fill you up with my cum, you want that?”

“Please, please-“

“Not talkin’ to you,” He huffs, thumb moving to your clit. It’s too sensitive, and you try to writhe away but his grip holds you where you are, cock fucking a bit quicker now, sharper. “Talkin’ to her. Fuck, listen to your little pussy. Is it too big, sweetheart? No, you like it like this, don’t you? You like when a big cock splits you open, so fucking easy.”

Your cunt is loud, squelching after your orgasm and only louder as he rubs messily over your clit, spreading your arousal over your mound. He’s lost the plot, you think, too drunk in it and babbling endlessly to your goddamn pussy - this is new but he’s gonna make you cum again, and you both know it. Your teary eyes and tortured, overstimulated noises do not match his smug grin and deep, gravelly groans, however, and his lips kiss over your hairline a few more times before he pulls back to spit down against your tight hole, only making it flutter noisily. 

“I love you so much, you know that? Love how good your cunt takes me, how desperate you get for me,” He murmurs, voice surprisingly clear and you sob wetly, nodding, quiet but he knows what you mean. His hips start to snap against yours, your hole feeling so swollen that it’s barely allowing him access but he pushes through your folds, using you for his own pleasure, his breath shaky as he moves to press his lips against yours. Your head swims with it, loving when he take take takes like this, pussy aching like you’re not sure if you’re gonna break or cum again. Mingi’s movements start to stutter when you moan airy and loud. “Need you on your tummy, baby, daddy’s gonna- fuck- daddy’s g’na give you his cum, okay? On your tummy, like a good little breeding bitch, can you do that?”

You don’t have to, which is what you expected - Mingi always likes to move you around himself, loves how pliant and fuzzy headed and whiny you are when he fucks you stoned and needy. He doesn’t pull out as he flips you over by your waist, letting your body automatically arch because you know exactly what to do for him, knees parting and tits flat against the sofa, t-shirt pushed up above your chest in his frantic movements.

It’s exactly how he wants you, ass pushing back into him and he moves, slow and steady, dick moving in and out and in and out at such a dirty grind. You let out a strangled noise at his cock moving inside you again, and his hands move to your asscheeks, pulling them apart - it stretches your pussy again, aiding the smooth movements and letting you feel every inch and vein. You realise you’re fucked and you’re gonna cum again if he carries this on, his fat, heavy balls hitting your clit, your nails scratching on the blanket, shaking your ass against his crotch in the hopes he fucks you faster. 

“This fat fucking ass,” He groans long, breathless, digging his blunt nails into your flesh. He spreads you apart further, swings his leg upright so his foot is flat against the cushions and forces his cock in deeper. You’re making so much noise, barely lucid, so high from the weed and what he’s giving you, pussy only able to seize loosely from his wide cock and flood him pathetically. You can’t see him, your own eyes screwed shut and head buried in the sofa anyway but you can imagine him, his tongue licking over his bottom lip over and over and his strangled breaths tumbling out, body moving so erratically, pecs clenching as he chases his orgasm. “Been hard since before we started smoking, you know that? You’re t-too fucking hot- shit, I can’t help it. I-I’m gonna cum in this fucking pussy, baby, o-oh my god-“

“Please,” You heave, voice so high pitched he groans at how pathetic you sound, pulling your ass back against him now, fucking your cunt open so good you think it might gape for days. He’d like that, you think, so pervy he’d love the idea of leaving you open from the size of his cock, able to shove it back in whenever he wants to claim you again. The thought makes you whine again, thighs shaking, “fuck, please, Mingi, I want it, please breed me, please fill me up, I love you, pleasepleaseplease-“

“-love you too, little girl, I’ll give it to you, that’s it that’s it, shit,” He babbles, shaking his head like he can’t believe how good it is, thrusting once, twice more until you feel it - your cunt flutters around him pathetically, in such a quick, responsive orgasm from his own that you cry through it, and his cock floods you with warm pearly cum. It’s a lot, always is, filling you up beyond belief and bubbling out over Mingi’s cock as he continues to move slowly, riding his orgasm out, groaning and huffing and fucking his load deeper into your stretched hole. 

“F-fuck-“ He chuckles breathlessly, pulling you back by your ass, curving his broad chest over your back. He groans loudly, fat cock still throbbing inside of you, and you realise when he pushes in again that he’s still cumming, piss slit flooding you with his release. “So good, so good, shit, gonna give you it all.”

You squirm when he keeps moving, his shaft so slick it slides in and out deliciously, making your pussy throb again. He’s still hard, too, you can feel it, cock so big it takes him a while to soften. He eventually collapses on top of you with an exasperated huff, plump lips kissing your shoulder. His hips still move slightly, a gentle, slow grind as he comes down from his high, and you wriggle underneath him. 

“‘M not pulling out yet,” He admits, kissing your skin again, trailing up to your cheek until he’s messily kissing over your lips. From the angle, he barely reaches your mouth but it makes you giggle, eyes still wet from the brutal fucking and hands barely managing to push yourself up to kiss him back. It lasts a few seconds, wet, messy kisses until he finishes with a nuzzle to your cheek with his sharp nose and a deep breath. “Love you so bad. I love you. Can I stay inside of you forever?”

It makes you laugh again, but you know he’s being serious. His hips bury into you further, flush against yours and you hum, pleased. “I love you too, baby. I wanna- let me warm it while we nap, please?”

You’re so dizzy you’re still begging, and he groans, pulling you onto your side without pulling out. It’s an answer of itself, and you know he’s too high and too sated to do anything but rest inside of you, right where he wants to be despite the mess between the two of you, his thigh slinging over your hips to bring you closer. 

“Nap, and then I’m rolling us another one,” He yawns. You yawn too, suddenly so sleepy, letting his body warm you up. “Shit, I fucked myself to sleep. Pussy too good. Pussy amazing, actually-“

“Go to sleep, Mingi.”

“Right, yeah,” He hums again, inching closer like he’s not already plastered to your heated skin. It’s somehow soothing. “Really, it’s the best pussy though. Love you so much. Amazing pussy, amazing girl.”

“Mingi.”

“Right, sorry.”

You can’t help but smile. “I love you more, baby.”

[gojosconsort]

whatever that dick wants i’m down. AMAZING art by @vØidzenin.

[tonycries]

Closer - N.K.

Synopsis. By day, Nanami Kento is the perfect husband. Devoted. Loving. A gentle father to your two children. By night, he’s aching to stuff you pregnant with your third. CóckbIocked. Ravenous. Just waiting for the moment he can go…full-on beast mode.

Pairing. Nanami Kento x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem!reader, husband!Nanami, married life, domesticity, Papamin, Yuji and Choso cameos, interruptions, cóckbIocked by your oblivious sons, slight edgíng, 5 +1 things if you squint, FÉRAL Nanami, oraI (fem rec.), face-ríding, manhandIing, spítting, chokíng, fíngering, ROUGH s, cervíx kíssing, all over the house, big Ds, P TALKING, BRÉEDING, mentions of kids, matíng presses, creampíes, cúmpIay, MARATHONS, heavy overstím, CÚMFLATION, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 16.1k

A/N. Based on the manga ‘By Day, a Devoted Husband. By Night, Full-on Beast Mode’ by The Waidan.

T-minus 5 days until the long weekend.

“Reading journal…pencil case…extra cap…” You’re rifling through the essentials stuffed inside your energetic son’s backpack. He was five already, and reaching that age where he just insisted he could do all those ‘big boy’ things by himself. “Hm…I think you have everything-”

“Really? Yippee—” Yuji’s pumping his fist in the air, before he’s immediately tugging the Spiderman-covered bag out of your hands and darting towards the open door. “Okay, momma- myfriendsareheregottogoloveyoubye-”

You watch after the blur of Spiderman and orange t-shirt in a slight daze, “Ah- right. I love you, b-” Before…you just slightly turn your head to the side, and in your peripheral vision you see- “Wait! Yuji, you forgot your-”

A hand on your hip. A strong figure by your side.

“Yuuuji—” A stern yet warm voice echoes, stopping the boy in his tracks in a split-second. “You’ve forgotten your lunch box, sunshine.” And towards the blond-haired man, you turn your head appreciatively.

Nanami Kento.

Your husband.

His overlarge palm cupped the side of your hips, and you’re only glad that Yuji couldn’t see from there the way that Nanami gives you a good squeeze—

“Kento-” With a breathy whisper, you’re swatting at Nanami’s chest. Right in-between his prominent pecs, where Nanami’s usual office shirt was pulled tightly over his broad front, buttoned up like a gift- and even then, you glimpse slivers of his white undershirt peaking out.

Nanami was just so naturally chiselled, in all the years you’ve known him. And you could swear that he’d only grown more built since expanding your family, with more hands-on labor - you guessed there was no better gym than a house with two children.

Slightly leaning up to him, you’re biting back a smile to mutter. “Yuji’s going to see.”

Nanami only softly chuckles, walking out through the front door to meet his son halfway. Dutifully, Yuji turns around so that his father can re-pack that haphazard bag of his, squeezing the (also) Spiderman-patterned lunch box inside. 

The boy pouts, “I pwomise I packed it.”

“Mmm, I believe you.” He replies, with just a slight hint of amusement. And once Nanami was done zipping up Yuji’s backpack, he turns his son around and crouches down to meet him at eye-level. “But, next time, how about we double check, sunshine? Just to make it easier on poor momma?”

Yuji considers it for a second- “Okay!” Before he runs back down the smooth, grey-stoned pathway leading up to your cozy lil’ house. 

Nobara and Megumi were already waiting for him beyond your house gates, and they slightly balked as they watch their friend’s father stand to his full height afterwards. Marvelling at those huge shoulders. His towering height. The way that Nanami Kento was just so large that his hair seemed to form a coiled, golden halo in the morning sunlight. 

It casted shadows on his handsome, handsome features. Accentuating that kind smile of his, just the tiniest dimple at the end of his lips.

You couldn’t blame them - you were ogling him, too.

“You’re huuuuge, Mr. Yuji’s Dad.” Nobara squeaks, once Nanami has accompanied his son safely outside. She casts a tiny hand over her brows to shade it from the sun as she stares.

Nanami smiles shyly, and hastens to grip onto the lil’ handle at the back of Yuji’s backpack - likely to stop him from running into (soon) oncoming traffic, you knew what your son was like. “Why thank you, my dear. But you can just call me ‘uncle’ if you’d like-”

“Is your willy huge, too?” That question was, expectedly, asked by none other than Fushiguro Megumi. And you don’t have to look to know that the surly little boy was likely pointing, too.

Honestly- not even covering your mouth and gnawing down on the insides of your cheek can stop the bark of laughter from leaving you. Pwah! Your eyes crinkle into slits of amusement, and through them you’re catching the helpless look that your husband throws your way. Cornered by a vicious, merciless trio of elementary schoolers.

You’re waving your hand in front of him—a motion to just go on.

You wanted to see what he’d say (or not say). And Nanami just opens his mouth when-

“It is.” When all of a sudden, Yuji’s the one to pipe up with the long-awaited answer. Proudly, he’s turning to his laughing friends with his hands on his hips, “Once I needed to pee real bad when papa was showering, so I just went in and saw it- it’s huuu—”

“Look- look! The bus is coming.” Rapidly, Nanami claps his hand over Yuji’s mouth and diverts all attention towards the hounding yellow school bus that was crawling towards them now. Like an oversized caterpillar, of sorts, with the antenna and painted-on face in front to match.

And Nanami Kento was never a fan of these decorated school buses. Never a fan of those soulless blue eyes that a bus should honestly never have.

But right now it felt like the pearly gates of heaven had just opened.

He was bathed in warm relief, ushering the still-giggling trio inside the opening doors of the bus. With a kiss on his cheek goodbye, soon enough you and Nanami were waving off Yuji as he was ferried off to school. 

Leaving behind only his gap-toothed grin, the clouded fumes of the bus, and you sighing- “Well, it’s certainly a loud morning.” You’re turning to Nanami, who was still slightly pale from the- ahem…discussion before. “You know, he’s already insisting on making his own school lunch? I just barely managed to keep it contained to packing only his school bag.”

Nanami snorts, “What- and survive on a pack of goldfish all day?”

“And the bugs from the playground, I don’t know why he keeps picking at those.”

Your husband throws an arm around your waist as you walk back to the house together. And his strong, heavy forearm almost seems reluctant to leave your body so that he can continue tying his work tie. 

From where it was left off earlier- “Strange child he is.” He loops it ‘round that collar of his, and your eyes watch the bob of Nanami’s throat - so unintentionally attractive. “Can you believe that he’s five already? And Choso’s about to start middle school, they’re growing up too fast.”

“They certainly are.” You hum, handing over Nanami’s neat briefcase once he’s done. “I almost miss when they were just so tiny, and I could pick them both up at once- oh, but I do love them as is.”

He huffs out lovingly, that dimple making an appearance once more. “I know what you mean perfectly, my love.”

It’s a comfortable affair retracing your steps back to the front door, like you had with Yuji earlier. Though much slower, much more…lingering. You’re hanging by the frame of the door as he steps out, and just before he was about to say his goodbyes—“You know- I wouldn’t mind doing it all over again.” Nanami damn near snaps his head turning back to face you, looking you dead-on in the eyes. “The children.”

Two fatal blows.

Nanami’s eyes widen. Nanami’s mouth drops, drier than the Sahara right now. A thin line of perspiration glides down his face. And you watch his body almost step all the way back inside the house. Nanami’s fingers tremble on his briefcase, and you watch it slightly slip- 

Before he’s managing to stop himself. 

Shaking his head, the blond-haired man retracts his step and clears his throat. “Is that-” Faltering, he has to do so again. “I mean- ahem, is that so, my darling? You wish to have another ch-child?”

Slightly bemused, you only nod.

But of course, Nanami is paying laser-focused attention to each of your words, your signals. And you can see the bump of his Adam’s apple gulp—as he takes in just what you were implying. Tightening his formal silk tie ‘round his throat, “Then I believe, ah…I believe we should perhaps discuss this a little more. For both our own goods. I’ll be back a little early tonight, and we’ll talk through the um- details, is that alright?”

“Sounds good to me—” You hum, not oblivious to the man’s shattering composure inside. Nanami Kento hid it well - always so stoic, always so sensible, always so respected in his work place. On more than one occasion, you’d gotten comments from tittering women that they only wished they could have a husband that held it together even half as much.

But as his wife you knew it all.

And you knew when there was a chance that this stoic, sensible, stern Nanami Kento was about to…break.

So without a single second of hesitation, your dominant hand reaches out to grab him by the tie- simultaneously straightening it at the middle of his chest and dragging Nanami’s head down to meet yours in a soft, soft kiss. Just the slow slide of your lips. Sensual. “I’ll see you then, Kento.” Murmuring against his lips, you pull away with a smile. “Can’t miss the daily kiss. Have a great day at work~!”

A smile that utterly kills him.

Your husband walks slightly stiffly all the way to the car. And with a final wave, he’s speeding off down the street as if getting to work sooner might just make the day end sooner, as well.

With a slight giggle, you head back inside.

.

.

.

T-minus 4 days until the long weekend.

Unfortunately, that ‘discussion’ had to wait until the day after, because Nanami’s workplace had been overdue on a few proposals (inconveniently misplaced by the new intern, and conveniently handed to your husband). And he’d ended up driving back home past 12AM, after you’d already put both the kids down to bed. 

With you so tired after a long day of taking care of the house and waiting up for him, how could he possibly even think of infringing on your precious hours any longer?

So all Nanami had done was clean himself up hastily, and carry you back to your shared bedroom where you’d been drowsing on the living room couch. Cuddling you to sleep. Promising that you’d talk about it the day after.

You understood, of course.

You and Nanami had been together for about twelve years, after all (if you wanted to know the exact date, down to the number of hours and minutes, you could ask him and he’d certainly remember). From lovers to a married couple, to being blessed enough to adopt Yuji and Choso when they were young.

Despite two bustling boys, you had to admit that yours and Nanami’s sex life hadn’t exactly died down.

Just a sneaky quickie before anyone woke up…perhaps getting handsy underneath the covers after a long day….And with Yuji now old enough to share a room with his older brother (they’d been begging for bunk beds for too long), you could finally start having sex at home again.

Perfect.

Right?

Except, well, it wasn’t exactly the same as it once was—

“N-ngh, fuck…” Your jaw drops open with a sloppy moan, saliva cascading out of you with a splosh! just as soon as Nanami’s stuffing you all the way to his hilt.

Here was the result of your ‘discussion’ tonight - if you could even call it that.

The trimmed golden hairs decoratin’ his base carnally scratch your clit, and you’re lewdly grinding yourself backwards. Every tiny movement leaves him stirring up your insides oh-so-perfectly, and your body wracks with shivers. “Please- please, Kento. S-start moving…”

“So needy.” Nanami’s crinkling his straight nosebridge as he stares you down, with your spine curved perfectly back into him. Those plump lips of his kiss a line down your back—long tongue coming out to taste your skin. “Missed you s’much. Fuck, you don’t know how much I missed you-”

And with that, he gives a heaving thrust that makes you gasp and grab at the rickety headboard. You could feel the plumpness of Nanami’s tip throb-throb-throbbing at your throat- “Missed you, too. Been wantin’ for you to- ngh, fuck me so bad, baby.”

“N’ that’s exactly what I’m about to do.” He’s smugly crooning out, the curvature of his shaft just lightly puckering up at your sweetest spots - Nanami had you mapped out exactly. 

Hard and fast.

Moving in slight bucks and grinds.

Smearing his reddened, swollen tip against your tender insides.

“Exactly about to fuh-fuck you until that pussy’s all satisfied.” The toned lines of Nanami’s hips rut into you like such an animal- and his meaty thighs push you further and further up the springy mattress. “To fill you up.” Leaving you whining wildly at his spears. “To pound a ba- mm.” Leaving you limp under his touch, leaving him reaching his hands over and cupping your tits so that he can manhandle you upright and at his mercy when-

KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK—!

“Momma? Papa?”

And that was exactly why it wasn’t the same as before.

You freeze instantly.

Tiny sniffles ring out from the other side of the door, and the locked door handle jingles to no avail. Yuji’s small, scared voice pipes up, “Momma, I frew up…”

You look at Nanami, and Nanami looks at you.

“Shit.”

“Shit-” 

He’s easing out of you with the loudest, messiest sluuuuurp—! Multiple ribbons of slick n’ precum combine to form a sheen that glues the insides of your thighs together, and you’re shivering at the feeling of his wide girth pulling out.

Letting off a slight noise of discontent as your walls clench emptily, cunt throbbing angrily for him to fuck you again. Your hips buck in primal instinct as you watch Nanami tuck himself back into his pants and put on his large shirt, though you have to hold yourself back - you were missing him already.

“Shhhh, shhh.” Nanami’s clammy palm rests down on your sticky thigh, and he’s carressin’ the skin there back and forth to soothe you. It works…somewhat. 

And you’re making to move off of the bed, “I’ll get-”

“No, let me.” Firmly, he’s pinning you back down just with that singular, clammy palm plastered to your thigh. Just that show of his strength is enough to make your glistening hole throb once more- and you’re forced to bite down on your lower lip to stop yourself from making a noise. 

He lovingly taps your leg, and lets the bedframe creak in agony after him (you felt much the same). Nanami hums, “I’ll take care of it. You just get some rest, my darling. You did so well.”

You’re burying yourself underneath the soft covers as the spike of light from the hallway enters the room. Nanami - fully softened now, fully shook of the shreds of carnal desire within him - opens the doorway to crouch in front of his teary son. “Let’s get you cleaned up and I’ll read you a bedtime story, how about that, sunshine?”

The pink-haired boy nods, “Mhm!”

By the time he got back, you were peacefully slumbering away. 

Nanami Kento only fixed the straps of that cute nightgown you were donning once more, snuggling up to you underneath the covers with the half-asleep promise of a proper (proper, this time) discussion tomorrow.

.

.

.

T-minus 3 days until the long weekend.

Nanami Kento was hungry.

Famished.

Absolutely ravenous.

He’d made it only two steps after getting home early from work. Inside your sweet-smelling kitchen, the scent of vanilla and summer heat in the air- before your strong husband was sprawling you out across the marble counters and lavishing his long tongue down the side of your cheek.

Swirlin’ tastebuds licking away the smudges of cream on your skin, “Mmm—” Nanami’s groaning against the side of your face, his scorching breath simmering against your flesh. “Something smells…” His fingers slipping down between your trembly legs- “-sweet, darlin’.”

And before you know it - fuck, before you can even think of it - you’re gnawing down on the edge of his plush deltoid. 

Your moans cracking at the back of your throat as he’s slipping his way inside, the deliciously curved tip of his cock stuffs against the roof of your cunt. Burrowing out a bruise there that makes your eyes roll to the back of your skull, “Shit- I swear you become bigger- ngh, every time.”

“Mmm, that’s because this pretty pussy’s been missing me too much.” He breathily chuckles, a slight hitch in his breath as your sloppy walls clench. “Probably harder for her to take me every time.”

“No no, I swear—” With a whine, you’re arching your back in a signal for him to rover past your folds even deeper. Teeth setting on edge once one of Nanami’s thick veins grope into your slobbery insides, stretchin’ out your cunt to his sheer size.

He was being so gentle. He was being so loving. He was absolutely ruining your pussy on his half-thrusts- just trying to fit inside.

Probe after probe, the slippery line of his slit leaves your mouth watering. The perfect crevice that renders you babbling away stupidly, “I swear you get even bigger whenever we- hck! talk about—ngh.”

“Yeeees?” There was something wild in your husband’s eyes, boring down at you through his clammy blond strands. It was just so fuckin’ cute the way that you lost your train of thought anytime Nanami’s length went mazing inwards- “Whenever we talk about what, my love? Haaaah, finish your sentences.”

As he tuts you’re gasping—and he knows exactly what you’re alluding to. “Whenever we t-talk about-”

“Mhm—?”

Drooling mouth snapping open, he’s bottoming out. “Ba-” Directly hitting your cervix with the crowned, globular end of his shaft. So, so reddened with need. “Bab-”

“Momma—? Papa—?” A voice calls out, young and painfully oblivious to what was obscured in the kitchen. In the distance, you could hear the slamming of the front door. 

A bag being set down on the table.

Footsteps.

Choso’s voice echoes out once more when he doesn’t receive an answer, unused to not having his parents respond to him immediately. You could hear the slight pout in his voice even from here- “Can one of you help me with my homework—?” 

Mercifully, Choso doesn’t enter the kitchen - instead, keeping himself confined to the television room where he was starting to set out his school books. Choso doesn’t take a peak at where you’d urgently disjointed yourself from Nanami, smoothing down your upturned skirt and taking a look at the clock-

“Oh my goodness, I forgot his art classes were cancelled today- it’s time already.” You gasp, reading the ticking face of the clock that knew what you two just did.

Apologetically, you’re whipping your face around to face Nanami - who was back to tucking his softened length inside in a way that reminded you of just last night. Despite the slight furrow between his blond brows, Nanami shakes his head understandingly. “S’just time.” He grunts, zipping his pants back up and wiping away the droplets of sweat on his forehead. Your husband kisses your temple, “We’ll find some other time, my love?”

“Mhm.” Heart fluttering at the soft peck, you watch as his hulking frame walks out of the kitchen to help Choso with his homework. “We will…”

Though, a part of you doubted you might.

But you hoped.

.

.

.

T-minus 2 days until the long weekend.

“Fuck…” Nanami’s peering down at you through partially-cracked lids, and from down here it looked as if his molten peripherals were almost made of fire. 

Burning straight at you underneath his professional work desk. Trying for al his will not to flutter them shut at the feeling of your lavish tongue gliding down his cock—“Fuck, my love- that mouth of yours is absolute sin.”

He’d been wading through some important work documents before you’d ambushed him in his office. Before you’d simply dropped to your knees and fumbled with his shorts like you were a woman starved.

Lappin’ all over his thick, throbbing like the shiniest of lollipops.

Lick after lick.

Your saliva-glazed muscle flattens over the top of his cock for a few seconds. “Mmm—” You’re vibratin’ out your moans against his length, and it sends sparks travelling all the way down from the line underneath Nanami’s plum-colored tip. Where your husband’s shaft was just dribbling out hot wires of pre down to your tastebuds, puddlin’ all over. “Tastes sho, mmm, nice-”

“Oh- fuck!” His head falls back against the back of his chair, and you catch the way that Nanami’s Adam’s apple bobs at the feeling of your greedy tongue.

Just that sensual ridged texture- fuck, it was all that he could think about. A carnal scratch. The way you were flopping it right out into his most sensitive spots, drag-drag-draaaagging it along his elongated length. 

Nanami’s right hand comes down to grip his base, and you’re whining as he lifts his shaft off of your open tongue. With a chuckle, he’s placing his cock side-by-side with your face- and your cunt throbs at the fact that his nine, massive inches looked incredible up so closely.

So sensually rubbin’ his girthy hilt up and down the corner of your mouth. Just teasing.

Up and down. Up and down. Up and down—

“Shouldn’t be saying these dirty things with such a s-sweet mouth, y’know?” Nanami tuts, merely lining the edge of your lips with a gloss of your pre. He was so hot and syrupy—practically melting against where your tongue was darting out to try n’ taste him even more. “Should control yourself- what if- fuck.”

“Mmm—” Moaning, you’re managing to press his rotund tip against the middle of your tongue once more, starting to suck.

“What if you say those things and- oh, you’re too loud, hm?” He prattles away still, mouth working overtime whilst you stuffed yours. And yet…and yet even disciplined Nanami Kento couldn’t stop himself from bucking off of his cushiony chair, “What if- haaaah, if you’re too loud and the boys hear-”

“Momma—! Papa—!”

KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK—!

Nanami groans, “-us.”

Ah, well…you’re removing yourself from Nanami’s still-twitching cock. Red-hot. Rock-hard. 

He was so needy that just wrenching yourself off with a wettened plop! makes Nanami’s hips chase the soft insides of your mouth, a translucent wad of precum spraying out of him instantly.

And as he looks down at you with a dismal face, you’re managing out a smile. “I’ll go see what it is.” And Nanami Kento thinks that he might as well pass out before any ‘next time’- because you’re pressing a chaste peck to his mushroom tip, and pulling his shorts up. “Next time, Kento.”

Nanami puts his face in his hands and lightly groans.

With a huffed giggle, you’re sauntering your way out of the office - knowing damn well just how intensely his eyes were locked on the sway of your hips. The way your thighs were more clenched than before.

“Alright-” Unlocking the firmly-shut door (thank goodness for Nanami’s foresight), you’re met with the tear-stained face of your oldest son. Snot-faced and bawling. 

Your brows raise right up to your hairline as you take in the vision of your usually-calm Choso, turning your sights to his (only slightly tear-stained) younger brother beside him. Yuji, who hurries to explain what his brother couldn’t- “I wanted bubba’s comics but bubba wanted bubba’s comics, so then we got into a- um, ah…” Slightly squirming underneath your stare, your boys knew you hated when they fought. “-scuffle, and then I got bruised.”

He raises a chubby hand up, and you can easily spot the faint blue-ish mark on his forearm.

Yuji looks at Choso, “But bubba’s the one crying.”

And that was being generous, Choso was all but choking on his sobs. Taking one look at the bruise you were appraising - the place where he’d either directly or indirectly hurt his little brother - and bursting into peels of cries all over again. “I’m so- so- sor- wahhhh—”

“Aaaaalrighty then-” You hasten to pick up your oldest boy, with slight exertion due to his size. Though when you finally do succeed in hoisting him onto your hip, he wraps his arms around your neck and buries his wet face into it. “Now, how about we go downstairs and make ourselves a cup of hot chocolate, hm?” It seems to calm Choso down a bit. “Maybe we can even watch a movie- a movie night?”

“Yippeeee—” Yuji squeals, arms raised as if he wanted to be carried, too. “Me as well?”

“All of us.” Comes a deep voice, and Nanami’s finally making his way out of the office. Having calmed himself down, he carries his younger son and places an innocent peck on your temple.

Choso gags, “Bleh!” Whilst Yuji only giggles - and despite the slight embarrassment coursing through your body at your husband’s obvious loving gesture, you were glad to have Choso express anything other than sadness.

You’re starting to walk as a family, “Now, who’s up for some Kpop Demon Hunters?”

“Meeeee–!”

.

.

.

T-minus 1 day until the long weekend.

“Fuck-”

“Kento-”

“Fuck, just a bit-” He’s hotly whispering into your shoulder, blond strands tickling your skin once Nanami’s jerking his hips back and rutting them into yours. You could feel his thick, throbbing erection against the globes of your ass cheeks - so hard by now that you could count every throb.

Ba-dump.

Ba-dump.

Ba-dump-

And with every furious pulsation, he’s jerking his pelvis forwards- almost thrusting. Dry humping you like an animal in heat. “Just- just a little bit.” So rough that the sheer force leaves you bending even deeper against the dining table, and Nanami has to loop his greedy hands underneath your body n’ jerk you backwards. Push. Pull. “Just want to feel you a little bit- haaah- my love.”

“You’re being so- oh.” Even though you both still had your clothes on, Nanami’s pryin’ aside those flimsy panties of yours to let his bulge smear against your naked cunt. “-so insatiable, Kento.”

And with a few more vulgar strokes, he’s finally answering. “Couldn’t stop thinking of you all day- no, all week, darlin’. I’ve been running into that damned office bathroom to fuck my fist like some- ngh, fuckin’ teenager all week now.” 

“Oh, Ken—” With a mewl, you’re grinding your hips backwards- but the friction just wasn’t enough.

Just wasn’t the feeling of his incredible cock splitting apart your insides, and the way that you knew he could fill out your every orifice so perfectly leaves you wanting more, more, more. So without thinking much - without thinking at all, really - you’re whipping your body back around.

Nanami grunts at the loss of contact with your drippin’ wet core- only for a brief moment before he realizes what you’re really trying to do. And the blond-haired man eagerly leans his hips forwards when you start to fuss with the buttons n’ zippers on his trousers.

“Shit-” Impatient, you thrust your hand directly down his pants, and Nanami throws his head back with a sultry shiver at the feeling of your ravenous palm. 

Accurately cupping his swollen erection, you feel him splurge out a slimy wad of pre at the mere touch. Just so sensitive. “We’re gonna hafta to be quick.” You’re murmuring, back to fiddling with his buttons. Pop! Pop! “Before they come back-”

SLAM!

“Momma, what’s for dinner?”

Pop!

The last of Nanami’s buttons are torn open- right before they’re forced back shut at the sound of your sons entering the home. It’s a team effort by the both of you, and you’re just barely putting your rumpled clothes back in place, making sure anything was covered, ready to act like everything was normal before-

“Oh, shit.” Your eyes drop back down to the place between your husband’s legs. 

His erection had softened by now, and there was absolutely nothing out of the ordinary…except for the massive stain of syrupy slick that’d been left by your grinding, gyrating cunt. It darkens the beige fabric of Nanami’s trousers like a puddle, glistening in the yellowish yolky lighting of the kitchen. Your hands are on him immediately - though, not like earlier. “Shit, Kento, you’re going to have to go-”

“Go?” Nanami balks, but he doesn’t resist when you start pushing him out of the second entrance to the kitchen. “Go where?”

The house you’d chosen for your family was one of those large, more open plans; and the kitchen itself had one entrance for those who accessed the house by normal means, and then one more entrance that opened up to the bottom of the house’s staircase. Ones that you lead him up the first few steps of, “Go change those pants!” You squawk. “I tell them that you’re- I don’t know, showering, or something!”

“Good thinking, my love.” He chuckles, clearly finding amusement in your panicked charge. With his palms raised in surrender, he’s making his way up- though, not before landing a peck on your forehead once more.

“Now!”

“Aye aye, my madam.”

Nanami (and his stained trousers) just barely makes it out of the kitchen before the boys walk into the kitchen, mud-stained and slightly out of breath still.

“Cho!” You’re admonishing before they’re able to take their seats, “How many times have I told you not to put your skateboard on the dining table? We eat there.”

“Yes, momma.” The dark-haired boy recites, listening to what you were saying and placing it on the floor. As he kicks it out of the kitchen, he turns to you and asks- “Where’s papa?”

Turning your back to your sons, you’re fussing over the dishes set on the kitchen counter now - what you were doing before you’d been…interrupted, that is. “Papa wanted to take a shower, it was getting a bit ah- hot in here.”

“This time of year?” Choso raises a brow, but doesn’t question it any further.

“Anyways-” You hasten to change the subject, “-why are you boys in so early today? Papa and I had just barely gotten started on dinner.”

And at this, Yuji jumps up in his seat- eyes sparkling as he slams his hands down on the table. “Oh, momma, you’ll never believe it. So Nobara said she had to go to some dentwist’s appointment and Megumi was feeling sick- so I went with bubba’s friends but then we decided to do some exploring- and then there was also this ice cream truck that—”

And so it went on. By the time that Yuji was done with his (condensed for your enjoyment, according to him) version of events, Nanami was back downstairs in a new pair of unstained trousers. The two of you quickly wrapped up dinner preparation, and used the boys’ help to set out the food.

In less than an hour or so, you were all seated around the rectangular table.

Nanami beside you, and your sons in front of you.

“So-” And, to your surprise, he’s the one starting off the conversation. Dinner always was quite a lively event with the four of you, with either you or Yuji being the ones that dominated the nightly discussions most days.

But to have Nanami be the one to start off? It must be something quite important…

So you all turned towards him, excited to see what he had to say.

He gulps down a bite of rice, and continues. “Remember that starting tomorrow there’s a long weekend, my loves. Monday is a holiday.” Nanami addresses all of you, in that soft tone that always makes you melt. Yuji cheers at the mention of such a thing- “It’s rare that we get a treat like this to be together, and I wanted to know what you all wanted to do on those days?”

“I’m fine with anything.” You hum, turning to Yuji and Choso.

“Something fun.” Choso stares off into space ponderously, “Maybe like to the park? Or a resort?”

You nod, “Fancy, I like it. And what about you Yuji?” 

And, dear little Yuji - who’d been so patiently waiting for his turn to speak, who oh-so-sweetly hadn’t wanted to speak over anyone else - simply just burst. “Joypolis!” He stands up on his seat, and you don’t even have the heart to tell him to sit back down properly. Chanting, “Joypolis! Joypolis! I want to go to Joypolis—”

Choso’s eyes light as well, excitedly- “Oh- oh, can we?” Turning to face the two of you with pleading eyes.

And, of course, you’re turning to exchange a look with Nanami.

“Of course!”

You’re humming thoughtfully, “And since it’s for a few days, I’d heard of this really nice resort nearby that I think would be a nice place to stay at? We could make it a long stay for Saturday and Sunday, and come back on Monday morning.”

Expectedly, Yuji bursts into even more cheers.

“It’s settled then-” Nanami speaks over the cacophony of voices- and what was clearly not settled were the two boys, who were having trouble listening to your calls to not jerk the table lest they wanted to splash over the food. “Kids, listen to your momma.” Until, finally, some semblance of silence broke through—“We’re going to Joypolis.”

“Yippeeeee—!”

“Hell yeah-”

“Cho, language…”

Nanami chuckles, about to say something more about the plans for the weekend when- 

BZZZZZZZZZZZ—!

In your peripheral, you see Nanami reach into his pocket and pull out his phone. Clearly, you imagine, it must be something important for him to forgo (his own) rule about no devices during dinner time. And you’re watching on in slight curiosity-

“Oh.” Nanami’s mouth slightly parts, a somewhat surprised expression dazzling his face. The longer the phone call goes on, the more dazzled he grows. “Oh?”

By then, even Choso and Yuji had quietened down. And you’re tugging on his elbow in slight concern, “Something the matter, Kento?”

He’s shaking his head, attention still on the call. “Oh?” Perhaps unable to communicate anything more eloquent, whoever was on the other end of the line seemed to have said something that made one of his blond brows raise. And for his tongue to finally work, “Have the kids stay overnight?”

.

.

.

T-minus 0 days until the long weekend.

In other words: 9 hours and 17 minutes into the long weekend.

Also in other words: 9:17AM, Saturday.

According to what you, Yuji, and Choso had derived from your instant interrogation after Nanami had set down the phone- it seems that your mother-in-law had won a raffle just that day. The prize? Tickets to a two-night trip to the hot springs of Oita. 

Three of them - and she claimed that she didn’t want to spend the holiday with her friends who couldn’t move as well as they were once able to. Might as well give the kids the time of their life, huh? There was much to see in Oita, and they were practically bouncing out of their seats once Nanami had announced the change in plans - neither had been upset about the postponement of Joypolis, either!

With their sheer excitement, the two of you had trouble setting them down for bed. And they’d been jumping on yours like a trampoline before the clock had even hit five-

“After all—” Nanami’s mother had crooned, her eyes wrinkling prettily at the ends as she smiled - Nanami had her eyes, and her smile. The very same dimple at the end of her lips, “-it’s a lot of work taking care of kids, isn’t it? Oh, I was blessed to have one as sensible as Kento, but even then…”

“Certainly is.” You’re chuckling, setting the boys’ luggage down inside her house - one lil’ Spiderman suitcase, and another that was just pitch-black in color (it’d been a long night sorting and packing).

She’s nodding her greying-blonde head, “It’s important that the two of you spend some time together, too. Can’t forget that you’re lovers, as well as parents.” Looking towards your husband, who was firmly giving Choso instructions on how to keep him and his brother safe throughout all times of the trip. 

You can feel your veins bubble up, and hope that the sinful evidence of these past few days don’t show up in your expression. “Th-that’s true, it’s quite important to have time for each other.”

“Besides- I’m sure the children don’t mind spending some time with their grandma, hm?” As Nanami finishes off his lecture, your two sons run towards their grandma and hug her tight- agreeing in tandem. 

“I can’t wait for the hot springs! Bubba says he’s going to teach me cool new swim tricks, grandma-”

“That are within papa’s safety guidelines.” Choso gulps, feeling his father’s burning stare already. “And all end up with the both of us, as well as grandma, coming home to mama and papa safe and sound and perfectly alright. With no limbs missing and also no ugly souvenirs- only pretty ones, because momma deserves only the prettiest ones.” He recites, beaming back at Nanami’s bemused expression. 

Your husband stands next to you and shrugs at your deadpan gaze. 

With delighted laughter, Nanami’s mother looks up at the two of you. There was a somewhat knowing look in her eye- “You two don’t mind, do you?”

You glance at Nanami.

Nanami glances back.

You know you’re both thinking the same thing.

In unison—

“I-if you insist!”

.

.

.

10:08AM, Saturday.

A tender goodbye.

A hasty drive home.

A slam! of a door that you’re only later recognizing as your home door.

You could barely even remember anything before you’re suddenly back inside your home and turning to Nanami with a meaningful, “Kent-”

His lips are on you instantly.

Teeth clawing.

Moaning.

Ravenous.

“Fuck- shit, you’re so—” You’re languidly gliding your hands down Nanami’s front, feeling the way his ripped muscles ripple n’ flex through his thin shirt.

And Nanami’s panting so hard that every scorching breath simmers against your face, and as you speak- your husband’s gripping you easily by the back of the throat to re-slot your mouth over his. Unable to even speak past his crashing, open-mouthed kisses. 

You’re whining as you tug down on his cold belt buckle, “Kento- mmpf, I want- fuck.”

And before you know it, you’re being pushed against the closest flat surface that Nanami Kento can find. You’re being shoved against the wall. You’re being pinned by the strength in his hips- grinding the raging hot erection already between his legs.

“Hngh, fuck.” You’re hearing him snarl in a ragged tone behind you, kissing your neck, your shoulder, down the length of your spine. “Fuck- fuck- fuck- fuck.” Each one was faster than the last, smooch after smooch after smooch, and there’s a dull thud! ringing out across the empty house when Nanami’s knees finally hit the floor.

“Oh my-” Shivering once his roughened fingertips latch onto your easy skirt n’ flips it upwards. You’re left practically bare, with only your flimsy cotton panties on as he holds up your skirt and shoves his handsome face nose-deep between your folds.

From behind.

Letting the straight edge of his nose bridge plap against your cunt, your jaw drops once you feel your husband filthily breeeeeeathe in—“Fuh-fuck, darling.”

Your knees feel weak already, “Kento, are we really just going to do this over here-”

“No.” Comes Nanami’s guttural mutter and oh…by the husky need in that tone, you already know that he’s far from sane. Already gone. “No, not at all.”

“Really?” Brows slightly raising, you almost want to look back- when another one of Nanami’s hands reach over and flip your restless body around. It doesn’t take him much to manhandle you with his incredible strength. 

Your back against the wall. Your glistening cunt facing his mouth.

You’re still standing up. But one of your legs is being picked up and thrown over his broad shoulders, now you’re being held up with partially his support - mostly his support, you imagine.

And it’s with this position that he can take a goooood, long look at your pussy. Your puffy folds spreadin’ open. Your hole clenching around nothing. She was just so dripping wet with your honeyed sap, streaming right down your thighs—“No- don’t you worry, darling.” He mutters, and you wonder just who he’s talking to - you or your pussy, right now.

“Don’t worry, because…?” You’re babbling out.”

“Because-” Nanami’s gusting out with his hot, sticky breath clinging to your cunt. And he’s leaning in closer, closer, so much closer. Until the curve of his attractive chin edges towards the end of your cunt, “-because m’gonna take you here.”

And then your body flinches with a shock of pleasure as he leans his plump lips in and presses a firm peck to the front of your pussylips.

Sloppy and wet.

“And on the dining room table-” Mwah! “And in my office-” Mwah! “The kitchen-” Mwah! “And the- fuck, the bedroom-” He’s snarling, dimpled lips curling as he sniffs your sweet folds once more. “-gonna take you all over the fuckin’ house-”

All those promises - he can’t even finish them before your husband, Nanami, has his face stuffed between your pretty legs and his tongue lapping your cunt like a madman.

Darting to every slippery nook and crevice that his tastebuds can reach- first he’s sliding up n’ down your folds, lapping up the ounces of slick that spray out of you. “Mmmm—” His head throws backwards- or, at least, it tries to. Before that dark, carnal part of Nanami’s own self manages to stop himself, and his quavering hand guides one of yours to grab onto his blond scalp.

“Roughly.” Nanami gasps between your wet pussylips, his drool drenching it in a whole new layer of gluey liquid for him to taste. 

Your mouth gapes, “You want it…”

The veins on his large hands pop out as he tightens your fist on his hair, “Roughly.”

Finally letting go of your smaller hands, Nanami’s then holding onto both sides of your waist- practically glued. Pushing and pinning you back down against the cold wall when his tongue slithers out.

So loooooong and lucious, he’s tingling your tastebuds over your swollen clit. “Mmm- mmpf-” Gurgling, gulping, swallowing the cloying wads of syrup that dripped to the back of his throat and alllll over the lower half of his face.

He’s grunting, “So sweet so- fucking- fuck- sweet.” You could feel your husband’s wet lips flapping away at your nub, before they’re finally parting and plunging between your pussylips like he was possessed. “Never gonna get used to this. This pussy- she’s the- hah, sweetest thing I’ve ever fuckin’ tasted- and I think I might just be addicted-”

“Shit- ngh.” You’re clawing at his sweaty scalp for dear life, because Nanami Kento was usually such a gentle lover. Usually so smooth. So slow. But now…“Oh my god- I don’t even want to ask what’s gotten into you today- fuck.”

It takes him a few vulgar strikes with his tongue to even think of responding- to even formulate a coherent enough answer.

And it’s only with a sloppy mwah! that he’s bringing himself to part with your dewy cunt, just the most lecherous damp noise ringing out in the air. When Nanami speaks out, it’s with his ribbons of saliva departing into your quivering hole. “Can you fucking blame me?”

Oh. Your eyes widen, “You- you really are-” Fuck, but his sloppy tastebuds are back to drilling into your entrance. His scratchy tastebuds plaster against the roof of your cunt, back n’ forth. “You really are pussydrunk? But the thing is- already?”

It’s easier for Nanami to detach himself from your damp pussy- with his two thumbs swervin’ down, he’s smearing apart your folds and spitting straight inside your hole once more. “Can- you- fucking- blame- me-”

It wasn’t even a question, and his lengthy tongue probes between your folds after each word. Slipping straight into your deepest depths, with the curvaceous tip of his muscle sticking in, in, in.

Again and again.

Preeeeeeessing into every depth, “Can you fucking imagine what I’ve been going through these- hah, these past days without you?”

“N-no?” His carnal strokes make you throw your head back with a whine, tears starting to bead behind your eyelids. “What have you been- fuck, you’re going in so deep, Kento.”

Though Nanami doesn’t even seem to hear you- “How can you blame me-” Like a mantra, he’s muttering between those swollen pussylips of yours, eating you out so raw that even the slightest movements of his lips make you see stars. “How can you blame me- hah, how can you blame me, how can you blame me—ngh.” The flatness of his sizzlin’ tastebuds moves back and forth into the roof of your cunt, making itself well at home there. “Not when I haven’t had dessert for a week now-”

“Haven’t had dessert?” You’re questioning, your senses slightly hazed by his ministrations between your legs. Is that what he’s been talking about going through? “What do you mean, baby, just last night for dinner we had-”

“No.” He says, meaningfully. And Nanami looks up at you straight in the eyes when he’s spreadin’ that wet muscle of his wiiiide open and probin’ into your hole- “I mean…dessert.”

Your back arches off of the wall, a perfect curvature. “Dessert-”

Your pussy. 

Your mewling whines are cut off by the feeling of him pulling out of your cunt with a wet plunge, strings of your slick following his movements n’ still connecting his mouth to your core. There was something crazed in Nanami’s hazy peripherals, something utterly gone. “Yes.” He spits for the nth time into your cunt, swervin’ right past your folds. Pinning you down whilst you try to run, “Don’t you fucking run- don’t you fucking know that she’s my favorite dessert, darlin’?”

And then you sob. With a loud, primal sluuuuurp—Nanami’s splittin’ you apart from the inside.

“And I’ve been without her for too long, my wife.” Perfectly molding your channel to him, the cushy tips of his fingers open your entrance up- and oh, he’s digging them deeeeply into your tiniest orifices. Scissoring in a second finger as if it already wasn’t enough to have his thick joints pushing your insides apart. “How can a husband be expected to go so long without his wife’s pretty pussy?” Gently nibblin’ on your clit, “I’ve missed her.”

“I’ve missed this mouth of yours.” You don’t think you’ll ever get used to just how big his size was, the blustering crowns of his two fingerpads opening up your insides. He filled up every cranny- “Fuck, keep going.”

“You have no idea how- hahhh—” Nanami emits a breathy laugh, like he was in utter disbelief at his own self. And you watch as your husband’s jaw hangs open to collect the glittery wads of slick that constantly leak out of you, “-how fucking thirsty I’ve been. I would eat the sweetest sundaes after work- remember the ones I bought for us? Fuck, just imagining that was you.”

You’re shivering at his admission- he’d what?

But Nanami wasn’t done yet - in fact, he was only lapping away his tongue even harder. And when you get used to the caress of his velvety underside, he’s spanking it down on your clit. “Just wishing that was you on my tongue- but nothing would even come as close.” He gasps, “So now that I have you, oh, I could drink from this pretty pussy for aaaaages with how parched I am.”

You’re tugging at his hair, and Nanami only directs you to pull at him even rougher. To use him. Teasing, “And here I thought that large water tumbler of yours was enough-”

“Oh, my love, it’s not even close to enough- look at this-” You’re being guided to look down at the ropes of sap that he was tunneling out of you- chin hitting your chest. After each movement of his fingers, your slick glazes his wrist in splats. 

Sensually, he’s ducking his head down to lick off the polish on his skin. Gleaming like glitter, Nanami moans when the candied taste hits his tongue- “You’re like a fucking waterpark f’me. And I’ve- hah, I’ve been dreaming about her for ages now. Been hungry. Been imagining-”

Lapping and probin’. A third crowned tip rovers inside and starts pushing in and out with the others, “Yes- yes yes yes yes-”

“I’ve had to run to the fucking- ngh, office bathroom more times than I can count.” He admits, spittling between your lips. “All because I spent a whole meeting imagining just how wet you’d feel on my tongue, mmm, like this.” 

You’re crying out, bucking your hips into his- and though he might’ve usually pinned your squirming hips down for moving, teasing, now…now Nanami was welcoming those half-ruts. “More- deeper-”

“And look how eeeeeasy I can slip in-” With a final cobweb of saliva, he’s trying to pry inside a fourth finger—managing. 

Nanami’s prolonged length empties out right near your cervix with harsh thuds, you could tell that he was searching for that sweet spot inside you. 

Babbling away, Nanami seemed to be getting even more drunk on your pussy with each passing second. “Wanted to feel you dripping like this- aaaaaall up in my throat- see- watch.” Your husband commands, and with your head turned down like this you can’t help but watch the way he takes a big swallow of your slick. With a messy glistening face, he grins up at you. “If you could possibly be any- ngh, any fuckin’ wetter then I’d want you to in a second.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been wetter in my life, Kento.” As if to prove your point, even more tear trails of your slick drip down - all for Nanami Kento’s munching delight, of course.

“…Yet.”

And you know one quality that attracted you to your husband the most? It was the fact that, no matter what, he would do what he promised. He would deliver.

Because with a few more sultry slams, his long index is burrowing into your g-spot. Perfectly. It’s as if that bundle of nerves was a target, and Nanami’s able to slide his trimmed nails right where you wanted him to.

Your knees bend limply as the pleasure hits you, and you wail. “Oh- there!” Too gone in your own bliss, he’s actually holding up your weight with one of his strong arms now, looped at your waist.

“Found it.” You can feel his grin against your entrance, “And you did get wetter, my love—”

And he’d found it, alright. Constantly thump-thump-thumpin’ away near the back of your pussy with his relentless fingers, Nanami made sure that the plush pads of his digits would then graze your nerves- making you twitch n’ whine n’ buck in pleasure maddeningly.

“I- I don’t think-” With one of your legs raised upon his shoulders, it was just so easy to squeeze Nanami’s bobbing throat. Almost suffocating him. You blurt, “I don’t think m’gonna last long, Kento-”

“Good.”

The firmness with which he says that one word makes your entire body quiver- and you don’t know whether it’s because of his purely carnal tone, or the way he slithers his fingers inside your cunt, presses down on your g-spot and holds it there.

Unmoving.

No matter how much you squirm or whine.

And Nanami doesn’t waste a single second before he’s immediately trying to topple you over the edge of your high, “Because you don’t have to.” He pants, “Your dear husband is here for a- hah, a reason, my wife. Don’t you know?”

“A- a reason.” You’re babbling, and you don’t know which one of you is more gone by this point.

You’re having trouble holding yourself up, and Nanami claps his chin against the end of your cunt with enough pressure to keep you standing straight. His tongue teasingly rolling out over your clit, “M’here to make you cum.” Push after push, thud! after thud! “Because don’t you know…”

“Don’t I know- fuck, don’t I know what?”

His grin is just sinful—“Don’t you know that you taste sweeter when you cum, my love?” Said in such a tender tone, even though the slashes of his fingers were anything but.

In next to no time, you’re gripping one hand into Nanami’s hair and the other onto his shoulders as you cum all over his mouth. It’s in invisible waves ridden straight from the tip of his nose n’ down to lacquer his chin with gleam, “C-cumming.” Even though he already knew, “M’cumming, Kento. Cum- fuck, s’the best I’ve ever had.”

“Mmm, why thank you, darling.” He’s crooning out lovingly, not even a hint of teasing as he takes it on. All your pushes and bucks- until the skin ‘round Nanami’s mouth was red and raw.

Until his jaw aaaaaached.

And yet, he’s still eating you out through your high, the sparks of bliss absolutely leave you shaking. Toes curled. The top of your crown feeling light and airy- “Think you’ve fucked me- ngh…” Stupid. Even though you don’t say it out loud…at least, you don’t think you do.

But Nanami puffs out a slightly drunken giggle between your pussylips as he hears that word leave your mouth - without you even knowing. Realizing. Dutifully, your husband doesn’t tease you as he plunges his tongue in n’ out, in n’ out. “C’mon- c’mon, c’mon- oh. I was right, you do taste so sweet.”

You’re whimpering as he pulls his fingers out, feeling your convulsing shockwaves peter out into almost nothing.

And even then, Nanami rolls his thick thumb over your clit a few times- just to watch you shake and whine prettily above him. “Done cumming?” He asks, once he feels your body go slightly wobbly. And when you nod- “But I really do wonder if you’d taste even sweeter if I overstim you a little, darling…”

“Oh my god-” Your chin drenches with the spittle that falls out of you unbeknownst to your subconscious, just so sensitive that they’re about the same as the tears dripping from your eyes. “I don’t know if I even can cum so soon again, Kento.”

“We’ll never know until we try.”

He’s tracing squelching wet—hearts?

It feels even more teasing than usual when Nanami’s fingers are toying with your clit, because right now he’s drawing the cutest patterns to watch you react. The way you flinch even more when he draws a big heart- and that cute hitch in your breath when it’s a little one.

“So cute…” Nanami groans, fingers nothing but a blur on your cunt. Spreadin’ you wide open, you can’t believe that your husband then has the audacity to bear his canines and gnaw down on your puffy pussylips. “So sweet-”

“Kento-” You bawl, the pleasure making your senses all bleary. “K-Kento-”

“Oho?” Those blond brows of his raise in interest, and through your tears you can make out the pinkish outline of his tongue coming out to taste his slick-glossed lips. Purring, “It tastes like you’re going to cum again, my love.”

And that’s exactly what you do.

Hard and fast. This one takes you by surprise, just a surge of white-hot electricity that shoots up your spine and leaves your thoughts all muddled.

And, just like before, he’s dragging you through it incredibly. Through every peak of euphoria. Through every flash of bliss every time his slurpin’ tongue accidentally slipped past your entrance when he was sucking you dry.

“Cum- fuck, I’ve already….” Mouth dry. Body shaking. By the time that Nanami’s lengthy tongue has finished lapping up every droplet of your slick, you’ve felt thoroughly fucked through your orgasm. You honestly wouldn’t even have been able to keep yourself standing had it not been for his unrelenting grip on you, refusing to let you fall.

You lean onto his support, feeling your joints protest at the long time you’d spent in this position. “Kento, now I really don’t know if I can cum any- hck! more.”

But Nanami Kento could read what you were saying without saying.

He knew you well enough.

And you knew he did.

Just because you didn’t know doesn’t mean he sure as hell wasn’t allowed to try.

In an instant, your husband’s pulling away—mwah! All that sloppy slick that he wasn’t able to swallow now drips all the way from the tops of his cheekbones, and all the way down his chin. Partly down his neck. Nanami then grips your hips with a loving, pussydrunken smile. “But, when I have a wife that looks like you, my darling, how can I not make you cum?”

Oh.

11:57AM, Saturday.

“Oh my g-god—” Your voice is cracking out in both sobs n’ whines, dribbling out saliva like slick as Nanami’s rutting his naked hips against the globes of your ass cheeks.

It’d taken your husband only a few minutes to manhandle you from the threshold of your house entrance down through the house. Having to hold you up where you were so overstimulated, he’d carried you princess-style. Where he’d pressed you face-down against the polished mahogany of your dining room table. 

All fours. Ass up. Cunt dripping.

You’d shivered as you heard Nanami’s pants hit the floor- his belt ending up in a heap with the rest of it with a loud clang! of metal on tile. And he was simply oooozing out thick pre at the sight of you bent over for him like this, just smearin’ it down your pussylips so that it looked like a gloss. “Mmm—” Nanami grunts out from behind you, his mouth watering at the hot feeling. “So pretty like this, my wife- fuck, so pretty.”

And you’re clawing onto the wood - trying not to make too much of a mess (you’ll have to disinfect this entire house, later) - as he just lightly smooooches your tight orifice with his mushroom tip. “Sh-shit- you’re so hard, Kento.”

“Mhm–” Nanami huffs out smugly- so drunk on his cock, you were craning your head over your shoulder to take a good look at him. “Admiring your husband?”

“Yes.”

In all his rock-hard glory. Nine entire inches.

Veins were zig-zagging down Nanami’s shaft, and they end where his sparse golden hairs start to decorate his hilt. He was just aaaaching to enter you- plump tip colored the prettiest shade of pink, almost as if his painful cock was almost shy to meet your cunt.

You can’t help but notice that it matched the blush creeping up on your husband’s ears, as he leans down and purses his lips to spit straight down to your cunt. Hitting his target dead-on, Nanami grins- “I wonder why we haven’t done it like this sooner, daring?” One of his hands attach to the side of your hips, and he’s just smearin’ apart your folds to take a good look inside. “Before me I see the tastiest fucking dinner I’ve ever seen-”

“Y-you’re so filthy, Kento.” You almost can’t even believe your ears, and you arch your back into his touch. Hamstrings quivering when you nudge your hips up into his, “Why don’t you just f-fuck me already- oh.”

“As you wish, my madam.”

Because he’s already entering you as you squeak out your demands - Nanami Kento was never a man that would leave his wife yearning and wanting, of course.

Anything you wanted, it was yours.

And the same went for his throbbing, hot cock- just the curved end of his shaft plops inside your elastic hole. Because of his sheer girth, Nanami doesn’t even have to try to push apart your tight pussylips - you’re already opening up lewdly for him.

With a cracked whine, your snug channel is gobbling his inches up with a sluuuuurp—making the blond-haired man raise his brows with a chuckle. “Oh- oh, my god.” He pants, breaths coming out ragged. “Ohhhh fuck- you’ve been needy, my wife.”

“I’ve been- hah, been what?” Pathetically, you can only turn your face ‘round to meet his and take it- because Nanami wasn’t letting you off easy just because he was rovering his thick cock inside.

No…in fact, he was pounding and pounding his flared tip past your tender orifice- or, at least, he was trying to. Despite the slight resistance of your tightness, Nanami has one hand on your hips, dragging you back into him with each thrust. “Fucking- needy-”

“Not as much as you.” You’re protesting, feeling the wetness of his precum mix with your slick to travel downwards. “You’ve been the one eating me out like you’re addicted-”

“And you’re the one swallowing me down like you’re trying to suck me dry, my love.” He’s bickering back gently, “Or…” And there was a tinge of something in his carnal tone that makes you shiver, “-should I put all the blame on her instead?”

Her.

Your sultry, wet pussy.

The one he was probin’ his split-ended cock into. The one that was making him grunt after every one of your slight squeezes. The one that was so cozily tight that Nanami had to hold onto your hips and jerk you backwards to try and fit himself all inside.

Jerking and pulling.

Manhandling.

When he feels the tight shield of you still trying to get used to his sheer size, Nanami properly loops his arms ‘round your thighs. And then he’s fucking holding you up- your heels dangling off the tile, your body supported only by the dining table and your husband.

Your geysering cunt purely at the mercy of him, him, him.

“O-ohhhhh, this pussy.” As he sinks in, it’s so good that Nanami hunches his bulky body over - as if he was breaking apart on your hole. Properly in half, breaths heaving out. With every inch of his globular cockhead spearing inside, you can feel Nanami grow more and more feverish. “Oh this pussy- oh, this- this pussy-”

You’re moaning at his broken mantra, “Nanami, are you fuck- alri-”

“The first time in- in what feels like ages that m’getting to fuck you the way I’ve been aching to.” He’s spitting out - literally, back down your sultry slit to make you even wetter for him. And with that, Nanami’s voice veers octaves higher. Crazed. “And you ask me whether m’fucking alright, darling?”

“Well I’d say you were becoming- ngh, pussydrunk already.” You’re whining out, staring into Nanami’s eyes and oh—they were so dilated.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen them this dilated.

They always were, whenever he was gazing at you. But to this extent? It seemed as if his entire iris had just turned back, and Nanami Kento was hanging on your every word, your every breath. You’re whispering, “But…but I think you’re even past that now.”

“P-pussydrunk?” He breathes out the word as if it was a joke- spits it out in almost distaste. Which was strange…because it was honestly one of his favorites. “You think I’d be pussydrunk by now?”

Confused, “Y-yes?”

Before you’re being shocked by a sudden burst from his hips, his meaty thighs striking the backs of yours until his skin there turns red. His blustering tip scrape-scrape-scrapes your insides carnally, and you can feel the line of his slit driving in even deeper.

“Oh, honey- oh, my love- oh, my wife…” Nanami’s droning on out, and if you were in any better state of mind then you’d have realized that the usually-eloquent Nanami Kento was slurring. Smack! Through your kaleidoscope of tears, you’re registering that the skin of his pelvis had just slammed into yours, a stinging impact.

Your husband pliably scoops you up, dragging your hips back down his shaft as if you were nothing but a ragdoll. Your gummy channel was being meshed apart for his upright erection, sliding down it slooooowly. Bit by bit. Inch by solid, throbbing inch. “Don’t you know that- hah-” Until you were fully bottomed out, “-I’ve been pussydrunk aaaaall week?”

All week?

Your mouth opens - perhaps to question him, perhaps to counterpoint him - but the only thing that echoes out is a sensual whine as he then starts ramming into you at a sloppy cadence.

Sloppy and fast.

Hard.

Nanami’s pulling all the way back till juuust the crown of his red tip kissed your entrance, then shoving back in until the hilt. Your orifice stretched all widely open ‘round his base, the spattering of curly golden hair tickling your folds. “Don’t you know?” Your husband asks, “Didn’t you know I’ve been- hngh, ruined on your pussy all week?”

“Ruined?” You repeat, clawing onto the table for some semblance of stability. “But we haven’t even properly-”

“Exactly.”

Oh.

He was now rutting into you like an animal, the curve of his luscious tip swabbin’ at your every ounce of space. “You don’t know how fucking greedy- how impatient I’ve- hah, I’ve been-”

And that surprised you, “Impatient?” Though, he was certainly fucking you like it. After every rugged bash of Nanami’s cockhead, he was surging back in for more  - barely even letting the springy recoil of your walls start before he’s plummeting back in.

Again and again.

A particularly hard thud! has you feeling him at the back of your throat, and your cheeks stain with a few lacquer of tears. “I almost can’t believe that- oh-”

He’s pinning down your squirming hips, and you can feel the line of Nanami’s happy trail scritch-scratch your skin. “I am not a patient man, my wife.” He says, darkly. Holding you down whilst he fucks you like a madman- “I could barely hold myself back this entire week- could barely- haaah, you don’t know how many times I’ve almost cracked n’ called off work just to be able to stay home and fuck this pussy stupid for a few hours.”

“And- and then?” You’re hiccuping, feeling his slamming tempo get even faster. “Then what?”

“Oh, you’re enjoying this—little slut.” Pure shock sparks down your body at the words he was using - absolutely filthy. “Let’s see how much you like this then-” And before you know it, one of his hands lifts off of your waist to rover down to between your legs.

Nanami’s rough index and thumb pinches your clit- “Fuh-fuck! Kento!”

“Wanted to do that for so long.” He watches with relish as you shake beneath him, “If the boys weren’t there- ngh, you have no idea how many times I’ve wanted to just reach over as you ate and pinch this cute clit. Just to tease. Just to see if you’d gasp.”

“Please- please-”

Only toying with your sensitive nub even harder - no matter what, he was always such a rough player. “Wanted to see if you’d scream my, mm, name like that.” Now alternating with his sensual drags of your clit, and rough rolls of his thumb flat. “If this hole of yours would get even wetter because—fuuuck.”

And then the girth of his length starts snaggin’ against your pussy walls, every ounce of blood in Nanami’s body flowing to his cock and swelling it up even further.

“-because I’d sure get harder when you do.”

Just as he said, he had.

Your head lolls stupidly in front of you- but of course, Nanami couldn’t have that. So he’s using his free hand to help you rest your clammy scalp back against his shoulder, so bent forwards that it wasn’t much of a stretch, honestly.

Like any good husband, Nanami Kento wanted to gaze lovingly into your eyes will he fucked you deep. 

“Aaaand then there’s this spot-” Plop! The raw vibrations start from where he’s bashing in your g-spot, set your teeth utterly on their edges. He angles his hips so that it digs a pretty bruise right there on your nerves, “-this spot that I looooove- n’ I know she loves me, too. Because she’s- haah, squeezing me so tight- never wants to let me go-”

“Right there-” You cry out, as if that wasn’t already obvious. “There there there there- faster, Kento.”

Precisely, Nanami’s smoochin’ away at your g-spot - with such incredible accuracy that your dazed mind starts to wonder whether he has some sort of superpower that lets him calculate the ratio. The speed of his hips- the vulgarity. He’s viciously gnawing down on your ear as you try to buck, “Just how many times have I squeezed my c-cock like this, just imagining that it was you-”

“You h-have?”

“Mhmmm, and all those times I’d fuckin’ salivate just imagining—” There’s almost a pout in his voice, something so starkly cute whilst he tunneled into you savagely. “But it never was quite the same.”

“I thought about you so much, too, Ken.” You admit, your thighs clenching together- which your husband easily swats away to start twisting your clit even harder. “Wanted you to fuck me just like this-”

A sultry smile spreads across his lips, “Oh yeah? And was it just like this?”

“Mhm—” You’re fervently nodding, “Just like this and I- also…” And only at Nanami’s reassuring look do you continue, “…you also had your- hah, your leg up.”

“My leg up?” Nanami asks, “Like…this?”

There’s a thud! and then a clutter once one of his meaty thighs rests up on the table, capped knee coming to rest where your peripheral vision could see. This change in angle made him just enter his round cockhead into completely deeper parts of your womb. 

Swirlin’ around your gummy walls, just pushing his bawling divot into spots you didn’t even know existed. Again. And again. And again and again and again—

“And you know what I was fantasizing about?” He’s panting out in scorched waves, hips leaving a fever pitch. 

“Wh-what?”

“Ohhh, you know…just like this-” You could hear the grin in his voice, “-fucking you rough. Fucking you hard, feeling your hot pussy for the first time in- hck! ages. I’d been missing her so much, taking her so much. My favorite lil’ meal- oh, I really want to taste you right now…”

Arching your back into his glissading abs, “Kento, don’t stop. I feel like I’m about to-” Cutting yourself off with a breathy intake of air when he’s drawin’ hearts on your pulsating nub.

“Oho–? Then perhaps I should go on- I was thinking of you exactly like- ngh, this, my love. Except for one key difference…”

“And that is?”

To answer your question, Nanami gets up reeeeal close in your ear- he glides his hot lips down the side of your face, letting his breath send shivers skittering down your spine. “It’s that not only was I fucking you rough, darling, I was fucking you with the intention of getting you pregnant-”

And then it’s white- 

And you’re cumming.

Surging even harder than any of your ones before, your heartbeat thumps in your ears like a war drum. Body at the mercy of your husband, Nanami Kento, as he bucks and bucks and bucks you through the perfect peaks of your high. Until, ultimately…

“F-fuck.” Even with your popped eardrums, you manage to catch the way that Nanami’s voice breaks as he swears his surrender. The drivelling circle at the end of his cockhead suddenly bursting into his own high- “Fuck, exactly like this-”

Hunching over. Pinning you to the bed.

He’s shoving his leaking cock deep into the goopy crevices of your pussy, letting you flood up with each miry line of his cum. “Exactly like this- just like this-” Nanami’s groaning out, webbing up your sweet insides with his orgasm. “This entire week I imagined pinning you down like- this—”

“Oh, please.” You’re blinking back the stars in your vision as one of his hands lets go to push down your hips. Wrestling you into stillness for a second-

“And then my cum- fuck, your pussy’s so hungry for my ngh, cum. She’s sucking it up like- th-thiiiiis—” You’re feeling the exact moment that even more of his ivory syrup seeps out, trickling against the back of your cervix. He’s fucking you through both of your highs almost aggressively, “And then- and then…”

“And then?”

“Oh, honey—” Nanami grins, like he knew something you didn’t. The hand pinning you down slowly scrapes down until it was plastered against your front, pushing down where a lil’ cumflation was threatening to start. A little bulge. In many ways. “-then you’d be pregnant, is what.”

3:01PM, Saturday.

It was only a few more rounds and a hasty lunch later that Nanami had cornered you again (or perhaps you had cornered him, it was hard to say with just how ravenous the two of you actually were). Until, ultimately, you were perched atop the very kitchen counter that the two of you had made yourselves lunch in. 

Your body draped across the frigid counter, your legs in the air.

Cunt directly in the line of sight of your husband, who’d just been hankerin’ for something more…sweet (and had rejected every other dessert option until it came to this).

Nanami’s looooong tongue was dipping in and out of your hole, gathering up all those creamy wads of cum that he’d stuffed in there just moments prior. As if he was forgetting his objective of getting you pregnant- and then starting all over again. 

“Mmm—mmpf.” Came his strangled moans, being completely crushed between your legs- and his two hands plastered upon either side of them as if trying to get them to tighten ‘round his neck even more. “What did I say about this being my favorite dessert—?”

Slightly leaning back, you can see the full scope of the messes that you and Nanami have made of each other. Slick n’ white cum glued across his face, a sheen that his tastebuds dart out to lick every ounce of. 

Dripping wet.

Plunging in and out.

Lavishing his mouth between your trembly, overstimulated legs for more, more, more. It was just so wet that it felt like you were melting underneath him, with all your excess staining down his throat now. 

With a shiver, you’re clawing at Nanami’s blond head and attempting to push him down- “And wh-what have I said about not talking with your mouth full?”

Unexpectedly (or perhaps not, you shouldn’t be surprised by now), this doesn’t deter Nanami a single bit. Doesn’t make him falter a single shred.

In fact, he’s actually wracking with primal shivers, the lower half of his body that was obscured by the angle below ruts—“Ohhhh, love when you go all momma mode.” He’s spitting between your pussylips, plastering those swollen lips of yours to his own. And just bubbling out in dewy wads every time he’s pokin’ his tongue inwards and swirling it all around, “Can’t- hah, can’t wait to make you a momma all over again. Can’t wait to fuck a baby into ya, my darling. All round and glowing and- and mine…”

Faster and faster. You’re wondering just how it was possible for Nanami to talk with his mouth all full, and his tongue working overtime to reach for the hidden spots deepest inside you. “And how will you do that when you’re- ngh, greedy for every drop of…”

He looks up with a darkly amused glint, “Drop of what, my love?”

“Drop of- of cum.” You’re finally managing to shrill out, and you think it may have something to do with the fact that Nanami had finally gulped down any and every bit of evidence of the mess he’d made of you. That glistening lacquer of creamy white not dotted his lips, and he was rovering his mouth over your clit and biting it now-

“Drop of cum, hm—?” Nanami pretends to think, so seriously that it reminded you of the way he’d be when he was in the midst of some important business project. “Oh, you’re right. I do need to fill you up with my cum before I can get you, ngh, pregnant.”

You’re squirming, “I genuinely can’t tell if you’re seriously that gone or not, Kento.”

“H-heh…”

And it seems that that was all the answer you’re getting for that particular answer- as for the other demand of yours, Nanami doesn’t quite answer it until you’re cumming ‘round his mouth all over again.

He licks up the tenderest spots of your insides until you feel yourself tipping over the edge - by now, your orgasm was nothing more than a few tingles that ran from the pit of your belly n’ left you all numb. 

All quivering.

You look down and realize, with a jolt, that he’d cleaned you off perfectly - and Nanami Kento always was great with aftercare, but this seemed to be something else entirely. Something filthy. And your cunt almost missed the hot splashes of cum that were once overspilling out of you.

Tears slick down your cheeks and - for the nth time that night - you muse that you can’t possibly cum again, for at least a few weeks.

“Oh yes, you can.” He answers—oh, you’d said that out loud. Fuck. “And you will-” Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. With a final few slurping smooches, Nanami wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and gets up from his place kneeled on the kitchen floor. And you can already see that his dick is rock-fucking-hard-

“After all, I have to fill you all over again, don’t I?”

7:18PM, Saturday.

You haven’t even had dinner yet.

You haven’t even had dinner yet - but Nanami Kento was making sure that you were stuffed.

Like the cutest of lollipops, looooong and hard. His blushin’ cockhead was licked pink at the very tip, dribbling out in wads of precum that leave your tongue feeling all sticky. He pinpoints the salty taste of it right against the back of your throat, and you whine—

“Sh-shoooo- mmpf.” You manage to gurgle out, and by the way that he’s swabbing every inch of your maw with his length- it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that you were claiming he was ‘soooo big’.

But Nanami wanted to tease you a little bit…

“What was hah! that, my love?” He’s crooning, overlarge hand coming down where you were seated beneath his meaty thighs. They quiver every time the lavish muscle of your tongue traced his muscles, like that was all it took to leave your poor husband on the verge of breaking.

Oh, and how cute you looked with your angrily furrowed brows, mouth full of his cock, huffing n’ puffing at the question he’d just asked. 

You were underneath his office desk by this point, and Nanami’s leaning his body back in his chair to buck up ever-so-slightly inside you. Hushing at you all the while to relax your throat, “Shhh—breathe through your- ngh, nose, darling, breeeeathe. Breathe n’ try to repeat that sentence f’me?”

You’re popping off of his flared mushroom tip with a wet pwah! “But why—? I said you’re so-”

“I want you to say it with my cock in your mouth, m’kay?” Nanami says in that stern tone of his. And you’re letting his massive palm cradle the back of your throat to get you moving your maw over his length once more, nuzzling the curly hairs of his happy trail.

You’re breathing in his musky masculine scent, “Just so mean.” Pouting, and your dear husband already knows that he’s won.

That when you perk your head up, he’ll be guiding his flushed tip to tap-tap-tap against your puckered lips. Your mouth was just so raw from so many kisses that you wince at the stinging sensation, your spit drivelling down both sides of your face.

“I said- hck!” Cut off right as Nanami plugs your dewy mouth hole with his cock, plunging iiiiin—“That you’re so- mmmpf—”

Intentionally, whenever it showed even the slightest signs that you may be emitting any coherent sentences, Nanami would buck his mean hips. Until the toned lines of his pelvis massaged your jaw, he’s lodging his beading cock all the way against the back of your throat- and then has the audacity to coo. “Awww, why aren’t you speaking, darling? I just looove your voice so much.”

“Mmmpf-” You rake your nails down his milky thighs, leaving sinful marks for days. “Hngh-” Slightly managing to find a bobbing pace that let you breath enough, “I said you’re so-”

“Aaaand there we go ag-fuck, again.” Before you can finish your sentence, he’s then reaching over to pinch your two nostrils together. A mean smile twitching at one corner of his mouth as you struggle and claw your way down his thighs even more.

Head bobbing desperately, he’s finding that that cute jaw of yours unhinges even more when he restricted your air like this. Interesting…

Finally - finally - letting go of your only form of breathing, Nanami lets you pull off of his throbbing red cock with a gasp. Lines of miry precum still connecting your mouth to his tip, chest heaving- “Fuh-fuck, Kento. What I was saying was-”

“And how can you expect to teach our new baby all those phonetics if you can’t even- ngh, string together a sentence yourself, my darling? No offense but—oh, fuck, that feels good.” He whispers, shutting you up with his girth once more.

Nanami’s cock was just so wiiiide that he made your mouth create the cutest lil’ ‘oh’ whenever he rammed himself right down to the base. Right. Down to. The. Base. 

Your husband airily asks, “Now…what were you saying a-again?”

12:27AM, Sunday.

By this time, you’d finally reached the bedroom - though, only after Nanami had taken you on every single spot inside your shared home and saved your king-sized bed for best and for last.

You were practically running on fumes by this point, and could barely even hold up the messy mating press that he’d pressed you into. With his beefy arms tangled up with yours, his thighs pressed against the backs of yours, cock probing into you deeeeeeep.

You swear you could almost taste the salty sweetness of his cockhead at your throat, just oozing out in creamy white wads- almost as if cumming was a perpetual state that Nanami was in whenever he was inside you from now onwards.

Again and again and again-

“Please!” You’re wetly gasping out, head thrown back into pillows that were drenched with your tears by now. “Please- I think it’s already t-taken by now, Kento-”

“Taken?” Nanami asks, almost in a daze. “Taken- you mean…”

And then you watch - in real-time - as the blond-haired man’s mouth parts ever-so-slightly. As understanding washes over his face. As he’s once again swatting at the door to your womb, and you can feel it splosh! with the overspilling remnants of his ivory sap. 

It trickles out of your overworked hole in a line of white, and Nanami languidly rovers his hand over to push back in those excess wads. He grins, “I almost forgot that we were s-supposed to get you pregnant, my darling.” You gawk as he continues, “To be quite honest, I’ve just been- ngh, addicted to your cunt.”

“A-addicted-”

“Can’t pull out.” He admits, slashing rude spanks into the back of your pussy with every hoarse syllable - you’re sure that you weren’t too far behind, and that your voice would give out soon. “Can’t even imagine it- can’t even dream of it-” 

You squeal as a hand at your throat helps Nanami pull you back along to every one of his rugged thrusts, his plap-plap-plapping hips almost stinging against yours now.

“All I want is her- all I need to feel—” Growing even rougher with his nudgin’ at your cervix, you wonder whether you might just pass out and see the pearly gates at this rate. “All I need to see- taste- smell- feel—h-hck! Oh, I can feel my cum swirlin’ around inside you- s’like heaven.”

With a shiver, you’re feeling him splat! out a few more wads of ivory white cum, emptying out to add to the rest of the slicked mess he’d made. You might just be reaching your own high, as well, but with how far you were overstimulated- you couldn’t even be sure at this point.

Gasps scorching as he says, “And it makes me…”

Oh, you knew something was coming up when he started speaking like that. 

“And- and it makes you?” You claw onto the dampened sheets- you might just have to change them soon, because something told you that you won’t be leaving this bedroom for a while.

“Makes me want to…do it all over again.”

4:56AM, Sunday.

“Get pregnant-” Nanami grunts, furiously pumping his reddened, raw cock inside you. Absolutely furiously. “Get pregnant- get pregnant- get- get pregnant…”

“I think- fuck, can feel it—” You’re sobbing out, holding onto Nanami for dear life by this point.

You were right in assuming that neither of you would be leaving this very bedroom for a while, because it’s hours later and you hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep - hours later and Nanami Kento was still trying to mold his thick, vein-covered cock to your walls. Still trying to get you pregnant as soon as possible.

Right now, actually.

Not even in a proper sex position by this point (you’d already tried everything there was to try), this was more of a sloppy prone bone. With your legs sprawled behind you, and Nanami’s hulking body melting down into yours.

His abs gluing to your back, his thighs shivering from behind.

He could barely even hold himself up on overworked limbs, and Nanami was left collapsed on top of you. Pinning you down helplessly. Crushing you to his sculptured body, his sweaty abs mingled with your back as he pushes n’ probes n’ cums—“A-another…” Nanami pants, and something wet hits the line of your spine—tears. Nanami Kento was crying overstimulated tears.

“Gonna get you pregnant with th-this one- I can, haaah, feel it, my love.” His hand scours underneath your tummy, and you can feel him preeeeess into the spot of your womb where you were all filled up to the brim. “I just know it- I, fuck, just know this one left that pretty pussy o’ mine pregnant.”

“Of yours?” You’re babbling away, feeling so full. You’d only have done this for Nanami - for his ravenous urge to get you pregnant with your third child. 

“Mhmmm, of mine.” He answers, grinding so that his tender ballsack scrapes your puffy folds. “Of my lovely wife. Of the beautiful m-momma to by three beautiful children- fuck, just saying that made me cum again, my love, look at that…heh.”

“I think m’close to…” You’re babbling pathetically, not even sure if you could by now.

But Nanami was probin’ against that spot so perfectly still, and by now your nerves were so tender that every tiny graze sets your teeth on edge. Vision a kaleidoscope of tears- “Kento, I think m’gonna-”

And before you can finish your sentence, you’re cumming.

Well, you’re not just cumming, to be quite honest.

You’re squirting.

Thick, watery splashes of your high that leave your husband’s sloppy staccato faltering for but a few seconds- as he takes in the constant gush of sap that was leaving you. Gush after gush. Directly following the peak after peak of your orgasm.

And what does Nanami do?

Well, other fuck you ferally through your squirtin’ high, that is? He’s slithering a hand down to roll over your clit whilst you cum, making you whimper at the delicate feeling.

Intentionally, he’s drenching his skin all a gleaming sheen to- fuck, to bring up to his gluttonous maw and lick off—

“So…baby names, my wife?”

.

.

.

1:26PM, Sunday.

You think you might have passed out some time after you’d squirted, and slept straight through until it was past noon. When you’d awoken, you discovered that you’d actually been…cleaned off and tucked safely under the covers. 

The bedsheets had been changed, too, with one of your favorite pillows fluffed underneath your head. Blankets raised high. Food on your bedside counter in case you’d woken up hungry. And your husband cuddled up beside you, waking up to your lethargic movements.

Of course, he’d taken you then, too.

It’d been slooooow and sleepy this time- and you think that Nanami had barely even registered the fact that he was awake before his primal mind was immediately filled with the urge to impregnate, impregnate, impregnate. 

A slight tear track lined down his handsome cheek and to his (thoroughly bitten) throat once he pressed his plummy cockhead inside- smiling at the whoosh of cum that’d just splashed out of you. “Hungry, my love?”

“Not that much-” You’re answering, “Since we already…” Only- you realize that your husband wasn’t looking at you at all. 

He was looking at…

A wet sluuuurp emanates once your entrance swallows his cock past your puffy pussylips, welcoming the lines of Nanami’s veins back inside once more- oh, how the tiniest of crevices inside you had missed him already. “Oh, you had been hungry.” He titters, almost to himself. “Look at you g-go-”

You’re yelping as he bottoms out, “So you were talking to-”

“Oh? What’s that?” Knowingly, Nanami’s cupping his ear to lean down and listen- the most lecherous of noises once he ruts in and out of your treacly cunt. In and out. In and out. In and out. “Uh uh? Uhhh uh—oh, I see-”

With his devilish eyes, he’s turning towards you and you almost flinch at the look in them-

“She says the baby’s hungry, my wife-” One of his hands ends up on your right tit, and Nanami brings your hardened nipple up to his mouth to suck—and, oh, the poor thing was sensitive? It made you thrash? 

Worry not, because in a singular fluid motion, Nanami’s reaching over towards the bedside table to grab one of his infamous silken work ties. Using it to tie your wrists up- “At least, my baby’s hungry- for me to fuck a baby into her.”

Again.

5:44PM, Sunday.

You’d had a brief call just before this with Choso and Yuji in Oita (with the video option carefully turned off on your side so that they wouldn’t be able to see the state their parents were now in, all bitten, broken). 

And right after- oh, right after, Nanami had all but pounced on you.

Maybe it had been the joy of seeing his sons again, maybe it had been the urgency of realizing that they’d be home by this time tomorrow. Tomorrow morning itself.

But he had you bend like a lawn chair back into your favorite mating press position, your hamstrings screaming at you to slow down- and your husband doing anything but that. “Preg-pregnant-” He’s whispering out brokenly, unable to manage anything above a rasp. “Have to get you pregnant- have to have everyone look at you and just know what I did-”

You feel his reddened tip twitch inside of you and you moan, “Yes- yes yes yes yes, Kento-” His cum spurting out in sloppy streaks. “I want it all inside, I want a baby with you- ngh.”

“Fuck, don’t say that- s’just gonna wanna make me go again.” He pleads with you, overstimulated lower lip wobbling at the feeling of your velvety, heart-shaped insides clenching ‘round him. “Just gonna make me- ngh.”

“Fuck, Kento-”

“P-pregnant…” He babbles onwards, “I get the f-feeling s’gonna be a girl, momma.”

8:45PM, Sunday.

After that, there were likely multiple more rounds that melted into one lustful haze in your mind. But the one round that you remember the most fondly out of that particular Sunday, was the one directly after Nanami had skipped dinner to go straight back into fucking you.

Your last round.

He was a crying, whimpering mess by this point - this large, towering hulk of a man that had been reduced to absolutely nothing on your pussy. You could clench and it would be enough to make your husband shed a few tears, his strawberry-red divot streaming out in pearly beads of cum. Allllll emptied out in the back of your pussy-

“I think-” He’s gasping out towards the end, feeling your slimy walls contract with what might just be another one of your highs once more. “I think this one—hnghhh.”

“Oh my-” You’re speechless-

Because Nanami only lazily probes his thick cock inside you, holding onto the front of your stomach- he presses doooown right where his mushroomy tip ended at, thudding deep into the front of your overspilling womb by now. 

Drenched in his cum.

A white, hot mess because of him.

And with a carnal grunt of your name, Nanami’s finishing out once more. With a few vulgar strokes of him swirlin’ aside the webs of sap already inside of you- you’re realizing that-

“Fuck…” Your maw drops agape, “Did you just- hngh, c-cum dry, Kento?”

“Wha—” He’s hazily turning his eyes downwards, only now realizing that the end of his shaft hadn’t burst out in creamy white like it always did these past two days. He had the faint sparks of electricity, all the twitches—but Nanami hadn’t actually cum.

You’d sucked him dry.

He was cumming dry.

The realization hits him hard enough that his breath hitches, “O-oh-” Tears glitter the ends of his molten stares, “You’re right, my love, I did cum dry.” With his palm still plastered against your front, Nanami pulls you towards him - no position at all by now, just a tangled heap of limbs. “And you wanna- fuuuuck, don’t squeeze me like that- you wanna know something else, too?”

You’re cracking your teary lids open at him, “What?”

Only for your husband, Nanami Kento, to lean down and whisper—“I think it really took this time, my wife.”

“Oh…” You’re smiling up at him, your lids heavy. “That’s…good…Kento.”

And it’s the last thing you remember before you’re closing your eyes into a deep, deep slumber.

.

.

.

“Oh, fuck-” You’re shooting upright in your comfortable bed, which only seemed to wish to drag you back down onto its springy mattress with invisible arms. And it was tempting, you have to admit.

Very, very tempting.

If only sunlight hadn’t been flowing with gusto even through your bedroom curtains, and birds and traffic weren’t twittering in competition outside. It was one of those mornings when the world just seemed a little bit brighter- and with growing panic, you’re slamming your hand out to grab your phone off of the bedside table.

Muttering to yourself, “Oh, fuck fuck fuck- fuck.” It hurt to even move your limbs out for this simple action, though that was the least of your worries right now. “It seems so late- don’t tell me I missed the pick up time for-” You tap on your phone screen—

10:45AM, Monday.

(Public holiday)

“Fuck, I did-”

3 missed messages from Hubby <3

“No- wait.”

Hubby <3: I went to go pick up the kids, so don’t worry, my love. I’ll also take care of breakfast so don’t even think about it!

Hubby <3: You just get all the sleep you need. I love you.

Hubby <3: So, so much.

You’re exhaling in relief, falling back against your pillows. Out of curiosity, you’re checking the timestamps on the messages that Nanami had sent, and find that it had actually been a fair amount of time before you’d awoken. So that means…

“Papa, where’s momma?”

Ah, Yuji’s loudly curious voice emanates from downstairs - as well as the sweet, simmering smell of pancakes and syrup. Just hearing your sons so close by makes you excited to step downstairs (and you had to admit that the thought of breakfast made your stomach rumble, too)- and yet, you persist. If just to hear what excuse your husband might come up with.

Fuck, it hits you all at once - right along with the immensely satisfying fatigue in your body. The soreness. The bruises. The bites. You’d just fucked like animals for two days.

“Ah…” Nanami’s deep voice hesitates, “She’s asleep, sunshine.”

“Still?” Choso pipes up this time, and you could almost imagine the way that his dark brows would knit together when he wanted to get to the bottom of a mystery. “That’s odd, is she sick or something?”

“Or something.”

Yuji pouts, “What’s that mean, papa?”

“Momma’s just very ah- tired, you two know how hard she works.” He replies, and your heart soars as you listen to two little voices of agreement. “Let’s let her sleep, okay? And maybe if she isn’t awake by the time we finish these pancakes- then you two can get momma’s plate ready, and I’ll go upstairs to help her down, alright? We can surprise her with a fancy breakfast just for her!”

“Yes, papa—!”

“Sounds good!”

You hear Nanami chuckle, “And make sure you plate quite a bit, kiddos, I have the feeling that momma’s gonna have to eat for two very, very soon.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, papa?”

“Heh, that’s a secret, sunshine…”

A/N. Y’all were asking for thisssssss so ofc daddy has to deliver mwahahaha…

Plagiarism not authorized.

[lapsizedgf]

toji ‘s masterlist ! ฅ ฅ

🎼 sfw , 🧁 nsfw

ᛝ check out the mini series ! • ﻌ -

2k special - camgirl lifestyle ! 🧁

fics ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

‧₊˚ ┊ hcs as ur bf 🎼🧁

‧₊˚ ┊ riding his thigh 🧁

‧₊˚ ┊ study habits 🎼

‧₊˚ ┊ going dumb for his gun 🧁

‧₊˚ ┊ ur plug & his only girl client 🎼🧁

‧₊˚ ┊ feeding ur older bf aphrodisiacs 🧁

‧₊˚ ┊ toji reading u to sleep 🎼

‧₊˚ ┊ stepdad’s culinary skill 🧁

‧₊˚ ┊ his guilty pleasure 🎼🧁

‧₊˚ ┊ doing chores naked 🧁

‧₊˚ ┊ sex & french fries 🎼🧁

‧₊˚ ┊ punishing u for teasing 🧁

‧₊˚ ┊ train ride distractions 🎼

‧₊˚ ┊ special customer service 🎼🧁

‧₊˚ ┊ patching up walls 🎼

‧₊˚ ┊ cameras in plushies 🧁

‧₊˚ ┊ ex bf on ur bday 🎼🧁

‧₊˚ ┊ nsfw alphabet 🧁

‧₊˚ ┊ brat taming 🧁

‧₊˚ ┊ spoiling u rotten 🎼

‧₊˚ ┊ overexhaustion 🎼

‧₊˚ ┊ trying full nelson 🎼🧁

‧₊˚ ┊ catboy in heat 🧁

‧₊˚ ┊ ⤷ role reversal 🧁

‧₊˚ ┊ comforting his wife 🎼

‧₊˚ ┊ crying mid-sex 🎼🧁

‧₊˚ ┊ pregnant headcanons 🎼🧁

‧₊˚ ┊ dad’s best friend 🧁

‧₊˚ ┊ ⤷ pt 2 !! 🧁

‧₊˚ ┊ teasing at the restaurant 🧁

‧₊˚ ┊ accidental matching @ prom 🎼

‧₊˚ ┊ helping his puppy gf 🧁

‧₊˚ ┊ getting off when u spend his $ 🧁

smau ⪩. .⪨

bf!toji one two three four five

roommate!toji one two three

ex!toji one two

(ㅅ´ ˘ `) please do not copy , steal , translate or repost any of my works here or on other platforms !! © lapsizedgf

[christopherbangme97]

Lewd froggo - Pillow Princess

XVIDEOS Lewd froggo - Pillow Princess free

[tonycries]

Everybody Knows That I'm a Good Girl, Officers...

Synopsis. You don’t know what’s faster - how fast you were speeding down the highway, or how fast you’re on your knees for the hot officers that just so happen to pull you over.

Pairing. Officer! Gojo Satoru x Reader x Officer! Toji Fushiguro

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, police! au, unprotected, being pulled over, thréesome, eiffel tower, oral (female + male receiving), manhandling, dynamics, cúmplay, marking, they lowkey make it a competition, implied dp, some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.0k

A/N. I don’t condone actually speeding y’all.

You were screwed. Completely and utterly screwed.

“Shit shit shit-” you hiss, eyes flitting to the flashing red and blue lights in your rearview mirror, sirens blaring behind you. The engine roared, pavement a blur beneath your tires - a stupid, spur-of-the-moment decision. You knew you were pushing your luck with your late night speeding, fueled by an empty highway and even emptier adrenaline. 

And, well, it seems like your little thrill-seeking caught up with you, quite literally, as you hastily pull over on the side of the road. Heart sinking when the police car parks right behind you - the final nail in your coffin. 

You heave out a steadying breath, trying to get your thoughts in order long enough to come up with an even slightly believable explanation. Why did you think this was a good idea, again?

Tap! Tap! Tap! 

Shit, in the heat of the moment you’d barely heard the heavy footsteps in the distance. Immediately snapping your head up to look at-

Oh.

Whatever flimsy excuse dies in your throat with just one glance at the officer knocking at your glass - the unfairly hot officer. Your face burns as you urgently roll down the window - partly out of necessity, and partly because you really wanted to see him better. Those snowy white locks, and- shit was that a dimple at the corner of the sly little smile curling his lips?

Twinkling gaze locked with yours, he rests an arm against the roof of the car - and you almost have to look away, your looming speeding ticket being the last thing on your mind at the way his arms flex so enticingly. Leaning down to smirk, “Ya have any idea how fast you were going, sweetheart?”

His voice was playful, and deep enough that it takes a second for you to find yours. Swallowing thickly, you bat your lashes innocently up at him, “Sorry, officer. I have no idea.” 

“Fast enough that’s for sure,” he huffs out a laugh, eyeing the way you squirm embarrassedly in your seat, “C’mon, license n’ registration, now.”

Fumbling through your glove compartment, heat rushes down your spine when his fingertips happen just brush against yours as you hand over the documents. While he looks them over, you take the moment to read his badge - Gojo. 

“Officer Gojo-”

“Satoru, m’not one for formalities.”

“Officer Satoru,” you press, words laced with just the right amount of flirtation. “I’m terribly sorry, I promise I didn’t know the speed limit.” And if it were any other moment then you’d be almost embarrassed at how you were fawning over him - but, well, one look at him and how could you resist?

“M’sure.” Not when he dips his head infinitely closer, hot breath fanning your face. Close - too close. And especially not when he mutters lowly, “Out.”

Which is how you found yourself strutting down the highway in a straight line, trying your very best not to tumble under the pressure of a looming Satoru.

“Keep walkin’.” And by God he was enjoying this a bit too much. Leaning against your car, arms crossed, and watching your every move. Stare so intense that a stupid little part of you couldn’t help but wonder whether his eyes lingered on you a bit too long to check for signs of drunkenness or something else. 

“Well,” Satoru’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts, whirling around to catch him sweeping you one last time from head to toe. “Seems you’re not under the influence.” And you’ve barely let a smug smile make its way onto your face before he’s plowing on, “But m’still gonna have to write you up for speeding.”

“Oh come on.” you drag out, slightly whiny yet not desperate - at least, not yet. Leaning ever-so-slightly closer to him, making sure that the tight top you wore lets him see a perfect view of your breasts. “I really didn’t know.”

Eyes flickering down. Once. Twice. 

Success. 

But Satoru only raises his brows, muscles rippling as he crosses his arms over his chest. And by the twinkle of amusement in his gaze, you knew the smug bastard was doing this on purpose. “There are consequences for breaking the law, y’know~ Even for pretty lil’ things like you.”

Inching forward, “Can’t I just be let off with a warning, please?”

“And what makes you think you deserve one?”

Something hot, and prickly coils in your stomach at his tone. “Oh I dunno…” you trail off, so close now that there was only a hair’s breadth between your two. You could feel the heat of his body at this proximity, and it was making your head spin. “I’m sure I can convince you I do.”

Satoru huffs out a laugh, grinning, “Not me, pretty girl.” And you’ve barely registered the words before the police car door slams again, and he’s nodding his head somewhere behind you. “He’s the one that’ll be writing your ticket.”

Oh? Oh, shit. 

Heart stopping, you whirl around to meet a matching, sly little smirk. “Meet, Toji, sweetheart. My patrol partner, of sorts.”

And in the dim lighting, you could make out how unfairly handsome he was. A bit older, uniform hugging him so sinfully tight - all dark hair and rugged, dangerous authority as he skims over your license. “Your superior.” the rough baritone of the newcomer’s voice sent shocks right down to your core. 

“Semantics.”

“What’ve we got here?” Toji asks, tilting his head, unabashedly drinking in the sight of you just as his colleague did. “Skipping out on your duties again, brat?”

“Of course not. Just that this one,” Satoru starts. And your skin burns at the way he addresses you, words dripping with a mean little tone as if you were nothing but a plaything, “Says she didn’t know the speed limit, and wants to get off easy.”

“‘Get off easy’, huh?” Toji hums thoughtfully. “Don’t know if we can do that, doll.”

“Mhm, the old man’s right for once. Can’t put our jobs at risk, y’know?”

But oh you’d never be fooled by their little act, you catch the way their eyes meet, a silent understanding stirring between the two. You bite your lips coyly, holding back a smirk as you unhurriedly reach out to pull Toji in by his collar. His knee between your legs, your back falling against Satoru’s front, strong arms steadying you by the shoulders. “Are you sure?”

You could feel his heartbeat quickening, as was the latter’s, toned chest rumbling at the way his partner grits out a hoarse, “Positive.” Shit, they make it so easy. 

Sandwiched between both men now, you whisper - low enough that they have to strain their heads closer to hear, “But I promise I’ll be a good girl, officers.”

Toji’s lips are on you before you know it - so hot and just as messy as you thought the man would be. One hand around your throat, squeezing lightly as he licks at the seam of your mouth. Such a desperate clash of lips and saliva as he bullies his tongue inside to intertwine with yours.

He tastes almost minty, with the slight taste of something so intoxicating that you don’t even realize you’re pushing down on Satoru, grinding in mindless little motions. At least, not until he’s gripping tightly at your hips, shifting your ass ever-so-slightly to graze against his swollen cock. 

That makes you gasp and pull apart, tiny strings of saliva snapping as you look behind at Satoru. Feeling him, so big, so hot behind you - even through his uniform. 

“Is that-”

“Shh, focus on what you’re doing, pretty girl.” he chuckles darkly. Breath ghosting your ear as a hand comes up to squish your cheeks together, forcing you to face forward. “Wouldn’t wanna make my dear supervisor here mad, huh?”

And it takes everything in you to take your mind off of how massive Satoru felt underneath you. Damp, and throbbing behind you, a wet little patch right where his angry tip was. 

The only thing that actually snaps you out of your little reverie is Toji’s voice, husky, and dangerously sweet. “I gotta say, m’feeling left out.” he sighs mockingly, fingers tightening around your throat. “And after I’m the one supposed to be writing you up? How rude.” 

You meet his eyes, half-lidded and looking at you hungrily. He liked this - seeing you all breathless and needy, so eager to please.

“M-m’sorry-” you squirm in their iron grasp.

“Now now, ‘sorry’ won’t always cut it.” Toji gives a soft, playful little smack to your ass, before addressing the other man. “Whaddaya say we do about that, brat?” 

You look up at Satoru pleadingly, only to be met with a dark chuckle. Shit, if anything, you thought that he would be the nicer of the two - but that stupid little illusion falls apart with every word that falls from his lips. And oh how he enjoyed watching your slow, dawning realization that no you weren’t going to get mercy from either of them. “Guess we should teach her some manners, huh?”

“I dunno…I don’t think her slutty lil’ pussy will learn, though.”

That felt like a slap to the face - one that had your dripping cunt quivering in- fear? Anticipation? You really couldn’t give a fuck right now, not when they’re talking over you like you’re some object. Not when Toji’s shoving his knee deeper in-between your thighs, rocking your hips lightly. You whine, “P-please. I want to.”

“Want to what? C’mon now, use your words like a big girl.” It’s Satoru now, teasing you as you hesitate in giving into what you really want. 

Your voice cracks pathetically, at the embarrassing admission. Being stuck between these two men way too much for you to handle. “I want…” 

“Say it, sweetheart.”

“Wan’ to be fucked by you both. Have you teach me some m-manners.”

And then it happens. 

Your back hits the cushion before you even realize what’s happening, sinking into your car backseat as the two officers shut the door behind you. Satoru sits on one side, while Toji pushes down the front seats on the other. Cramped, heady - and exactly where you wanted to be right now. 

Shit, when did they even open the car door? You don’t have half the mind to wonder, because neither of them waste any time. Immediately groping your tits - your waist - your thighs, everywhere and anywhere they could reach. 

Satoru’s kissing you now - drinking you in like you were his favorite taste. And you just think he might be yours, so sweet, like those cheap lollipops you saw at convenience stores. Drinking in your breathless gasps as Toji begins unbuttoning your top, letting it fall to God-knows-where and-

“Fuuuck.” he lets out a low whistle, “Kid, look at this.”

With an almost-pained grunt, Satoru’s pulling away. Eyes widening as he takes in the sight of you - braless, and exposed so shamefully for the both of them, of course. “No bra?” he mutters raspily. “Always knew you were a lil’ slut, doll.” But you knew by the way his breath hitches that he liked it. 

And Toji did too, if the way his fingers danced along your hardened nipples was anything to go by. “What did I tell you? Bet she’s got such a naughty pussy, too.”

Your head is spinning, both from his words and the way Satoru’s claiming your lips once again. Murmuring into your mouth, “Only one way to find out.”

And that’s all that is said before they’re all but ripping your skirt off your hips. The poor, flimsy fabric nothing against the two men that were now looking at your drenched panties in pure awe. 

In fact, Toji drops to his knees onto the car interior, face to face with your pretty pussy. Greedily drinking in the way your slick beads out so sloppily,  the way it glistens and clenches around nothing. Gaze heated enough that you’re embarrassed. 

“Ah ah-” Satoru tuts, seeing the way your bare thighs were trying to close - not letting yourself have even some semblance of dignity. “You said you’d be a good girl f’us, isn’t that right, old man?”

“Mhm, s’what she said.”

Shit, you can do nothing but have your legs wrestled open, Satoru’s fingers sliding so delicately underneath your panties. “You heard him, pretty.” Index sliding up and down, up and down up and- grazing your swollen folds, all the way from your base, stopping just below your throbbing clit. Tease. “So why don’t we let officer Toji here get a good look at how wet your pretty lil’ cunt is?”

Neither man waits for your answer - of course, they don’t.

Rip! 

Several things happen at once, you barely have the time to react before Satoru’s holding your panties in his fist, tattered and soaked with your slick. Your mouth drops open in disbelief as he dangles it like a badge of honor, holding it up, up, up, only to breathe in your scent obscenely. “Fuck, you even smell like the perfect angel.”

Toji - taking the opportunity - dives face-first into your pussy. Groaning at the taste - you were so sweet, so addictive on his tongue. Licking lazily up your swollen folds, letting your sweet sweet juices get all over his face as he buries himself nose-deep. 

“Oh!” you gasp, fisting his locks in your hands, “Shit shit shit-” Toji was in eating you out, exactly as he was with kissing - sloppy. Unabashed. Letting his tongue move so messily all over your cunt, while his colleague held you still. Letting him devour you as he pleased. 

“Shhh, don’t worry, sweetheart.” Satoru whispers into your ear, every cute lil’ whine of yours going straight to his painfully hard cock. 

And, well, Satoru can’t just sit here and watch Toji have you all to himself, now. Can he? Which is why he begins playing with your sensitive nipples. Twirling his hot tongue around one, rolling the other between his fingers.

Drunk off your moans and the way you’re so overstimulated by both men. Unable to decide between where your body wants to focus on - grinding down on Toji’s relentless mouth or leaning towards Satoru’s. And it’s driving you mad. 

“Hngh- fuck- Feel’s good.” you whine, bucking your hips wildly.

“Yeah? Ya like this?” Toji speaks first, words muffled around your clit. Sucking and rolling his tongue harshly across it. Over and over. Strangely in time with the quick, maddening little circles that Satoru licks around your nipples. 

Being ruined like this from both ends was way too much - so you can only nod deliriously. Shaking, bucking your hips into his touch so desperately. Letting Toji throw your legs over his shoulders, looking so fucking gorgeous in-between your legs like he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. Brows furrowing in bliss as he tilts his head back, back, back so that your juices slide down his throat. “Shit.” Lapping even faster at your pussy. “Could get used to this.”

And let it be known that Gojo Satoru was a jealous man, because he pulls away from your tits with a lewd pop! Grunting sulkily, “Move over. Wan’ taste her cute pussy, too.”

Either Toji doesn’t hear him over the lewd little squelches coming from down below, or he ignores it - probably the latter. Continuing to make out with your cunt so messily. 

But Satoru was nothing if not persistent, snaking down a hand to gather your slick on his fingertips. Immediately shoving them in his mouth and oh- You watch blearily as his eyes roll to the back of his head, sucking his fingers clean like a man possessed. 

“Oh- fuck.” his mouth drops into a soft oh! Leaning forward like he wanted to kiss you senseless, only to halt and shuffle off the carseat. Because he wanted to make out with your cunt more. Dropping to the ground beside Toji, Satoru gives him a minute shove, “Move. M’not letting you be the only one to taste this heavenly pussy.”

“Hah- ya think you can eat her out the way she deserves, brat?” Licking at your inner thigh, “Lemme show you how a real man does it.”

“Watch and learn, old man.” Both men push your legs as far apart as they’d go, spreading you so shamefully for them. You reel from the stretch and the sinful sight below you. 

Because immediately, they’re making out hungrily with your cunt together. Sloppily and needy - tongues bumping into each other, intertwining, burying their faces between your legs as they eat you out like a little competition. Satoru’s licking up and down your slit, pooling your slick on his tongue, while Toji’s wrapping his pretty lips around your ravaged clit. 

“Sh-shit. Satoru- Toji. Ah! M’so close.” you squirm as they moan into your wet cunt, the vibrations sending white-hot pleasure running up your spine. Drinking in your little whimpers like they were addicted. 

“Like this?” Satoru groans. “Feels good being eaten out by the both of us?”

The car fills with your breathy moans, and it’s hard to speak with the way they’re alternating between flicking your clit and squeezing your tongue through your swollen folds. Stretching you out, thrusting at a frenzied pace - you don’t even know who is who at this point. Just getting off with a needy, “Ngh- fuck, yes yes yes- Feels s’good!”

“Like being our little whore, doll?”

Maybe it was Toji’s words - so filthy even when he was calling out to you sweetly. Or maybe it was the way Satoru was grinding his jaw as he plunges his soft tongue deeper into your plushy walls. Probably it was how they both looked at you - like you were their last meal. 

Because you’re cumming, and cumming so messily all over their mouths. “Shit. S’too much. Ah-”

And neither man stops - almost like it was difficult to part. Letting you drag your sloppy pussy incoherently all over while they continue to flick and dip their tongues. Big, fat tears pricking at your eyes from the overstimulation.

“Heh, you’re gonna make her cry.” Satoru grins, as he finally parts. Your slick glossing so prettily all over the bottom half of his face - and his partner wasn’t any better. Rising from in-between your thighs looking very decidedly not sorry for eating you out till you cry. 

You watch, speechless, as Toji swipes a thumb over his lips, watching in wonder the way it becomes sticky with your juices. “Could get used to this all over m’face, right?”

“Mhm.” the other man hums, absentmindedly fumbling with his shirt. Revealing smooth, milky skin - he was so deliciously sculpted, all toned muscled and a slutty waist that made your mouth water. Shit, he was a masterpiece. 

But Satoru - that impatient bastard - doesn’t even give you the time to admire the entirety of him before he’s unbuckling his belt. “Though I think she’d look better with something else.”

You gasp as he pulls down his pants, tugging just enough that his swollen cock springs out. Absolutely massive and such an angry red, weeping tip dripping all the way down his length. He was so long - the type of long that had you knowing that won’t be walking properly tomorrow. 

“How crude.” Toji titters, but shit how he loved the way you seemed so cockdrunk from the mere sight of Satoru’s dick. It almost made some tiny part of him jealous. 

“Whatever, dibs on her cunt,” Satoru grunts, one hand moving to toy so messily with your dripping entrance. Pointedly ignoring the heated glare thrown his way by Toji, and the way he begins rolling your clit between two fingers. Almost like a little standoff - with you stuck in the middle. 

Toji breaks first, “M’your superior, I should be the one to fuck her pretty pussy.”

“Aw come on.” the other man whines, and it would almost be comical if it wasn’t for the way his long fingers were massaging your hot core. “Think of it as a ah- learning experience. After all, who knows whether you’d hurt yourself trynna fuck her the way I can.”

“You mouthy little-”

“Now, pretty girl, let’s see if y’can walk the talk.”

And oh you should’ve known better than to think you’d be stuffed inside the backseat of a car with two police officers without them throwing you around like a rag doll. 

Immediately, Toji’s manhandling you, fingers digging into your waist as he pushes you on all fours. Lining his aching bulge right in front of your soppy mouth, saliva seeping into his pants. 

Well, there was no use wearing soiled clothing, right? You watch, cunt clenching in anticipation as he shoves down his pants in record speed. 

Oh, the universe was playing a joke on you - because Toji was just as big. If a bit thicker where Satoru was longer. Prominent veins glistening in the dim light, precum dripping all the way down to the maintained tufts of black at his base.

Shit, your eyes flit between the intimidatingly big cocks. One in front of you, grazing his fat tip across your lips, and the other positioned right over your sloppy entrance. You weren’t going to make it out alive. 

“Having second thoughts?” Toji scoffs, edging his hips closer. Greedily taking in how fucking pretty you looked with his precum glossing your mouth, messy and dripping down to your chin. “Wan’ tap out?”

You barely even have to your head “no” - because Satoru’s answering for you. Spreading your pussy lips with his thumb, taking one, long look before chuckling, “Course not. Y’should see the way her needy cunt is sucking my thumb up.”

“Well then. Guess we’ll get to the real fun.”

With that, Toji’s stuffing himself into your mouth. A low hiss leaving the back of his throat as you take him so well, lips bulging around his thick cock. Tonguing at the sensitive slit in a way that makes him lose his mind. 

Not even giving your a proper warning as he pushes in inch by fucking inch, watching you choke and gag around him. Not stopping till he’s got your nose pressed all the way against his toned pelvis. “Shit, relax yer throat. Fuck, ah- just like that, doll.”

And if you thought he was mean then you weren’t prepared for Satoru at all - not with the way he was immediately squeezing his thick head into your snug cunt. Head thrown back as your heavenly walls can’t decide between pushing him out or milking the fucking soul out of him. 

“S’tight, fuckin’ love this pussy.” Satoru gasps, jaw clenched, trying not to just fuck recklessly into your cunt until you’re drunk on his cock. But God is it difficult to keep his sanity when all he gets in response from you is a choked, wet gurgles. Body bowing into both of theirs as you desperately try to relax both your throat and your cunt. 

“Gonna stand around waitin’ or am I gonna have to ruin her pretty pussy for you?” Toji taunts, voice strained as he begins thrusting in quick, harsh strokes into your hot mouth. “Talked big, huh, kid?”

“Fuck off.”

And Satoru’s never one to lag behind. After all, he did graduate at the top of his batch at the academy - he can’t lose face in front of you or his annoying superior either. 

So he tightens his grip on your hips, hard enough that he’s pretty sure it bruises. Pushing down on your spine to arch your back deeper onto his cock.  “I dunno.” he drawls, “What do you think, sweetheart? Want me to fuck into this tight lil’ pussy? Ruin you on my cock?” 

Of course, the only response he gets is a low, wet moan. Luckily, both men understand it as a loud, resounding “yes”. 

“Awww, look at her- hah- Cock-drunk little slut can’t even speak.” It’s the last thing that spills out of Satoru’s mouth before he’s pushing past that tight ring of resistance. No care or concern for your poor pussy because shit his thoughts were too mangled with how heavenly you felt around him. 

“You got this, pretty.” he whispers, fucking into you in small, shallow little thrusts just to fit himself inside you. “Take me all like the good girl you are.”

And oh were you such a good girl for him - Satoru thinks he could almost cum on the spot as he finally bottoms out. Sucking up his cock so fucking sinfully as his heavy balls smacking your ass, already so wet with your slick and his precum. 

“There ya are.” Toji hums, the image of you choking on his cock while you struggle to take Satoru’s making his head absolutely spin. He can’t stop himself from leaning down and kissing hotly down your spine, making you buck and gag deeper around his dick. In the haze of it all, he catches Satoru’s amused gaze. Spitting out, “What?”

“Softie.”

“Oh, shut up. You can’t even handle her pussy.”

And Satoru took that personally, because he’s reeling his hips back, back, back - all the way till his angry, weeping tip just kissed you sloppy holes. “M’gonna show you, softie.” Body moving before his mind, he starts fucking into your pretty cunt recklessly. Hands groping all over your body possessively, hips moving in rough, harsh thrusts fueled by pure need and the urge to ruin you. Over and over-

Toji only smiles at the little show, your garbled whines every time Satoru hits your poor cervix going straight to his cock - quite literally. And if he angled his head just right, he could see the way your cute cunt was stretching obscenely. Barely-lucidly, he wonders whether your throat would bulge around his just as much. 

He taps your cheek, signaling you to blink those pretty eyes so tearily up at him. Balls squeezing painfully, he really can’t help but pump his cock into you faster, matching Satoru’s merciless cadence - ruining you from both sloppy holes. “Sorry, doll. Gotta big ego, so we can’t be outdone, now, can we?”

And then it’s like something snaps because suddenly every movement becomes sloppier, more erratic. Toji’s got a hand around your throat, feeling each thrust as he ruins your gorgeous face. Abs flexing each time he drags your lips on his cock up and down up and down up and- like some toy.

Satoru wasn’t any nicer either - becoming so fucking messy as he fucks you from behind like he was claiming his win. Faster, sloppier. 

Biting his lip at the way your ass jiggles each time his hips snap into yours. Pulling you back by the hair to bounce you like some little slut from both ends. And, maybe if you were in any better state of mind you’d have said something about the way they were using you like their favorite fucktoy - but right now you were so close. Dangerously close. It was too much. 

And they probably feel it because suddenly Toji’s leaning down, murmuring hotly against your ear, “S- fuck. Ngh- Close?”

“Fuck, I can feel it too.” Satoru voices from behind, so hoarse with desire, “Suckin’ me up so hah- t-tight it’s almost hard to fuck her.” It’s his cue to reach down deftly and start toying with your ravaged clit, still so sensitive and sore from before. Drawing erratic little circles on it, pinching with his fingers. 

You’re letting out throaty, muffled moans of their names, making Toji’s hips stutter. Holding you still as his aching balls smack your ass. “Hngh- shit. Keep doin’ that, brat, this one here loves it.” 

“What did I tell ya? S’like this pussy’s made f’me.”

And if they couldn’t feel it then they certainly could see it. They could see the way you were getting messier, pussy dripping all over the carseat now. Mascara running down your face, saliva and precum trailing down your chin. Honestly, it was fucking hard to look at you without cumming right there, too. Because you looked completely and utterly fucked out. So close that it was almost painful. 

Maybe that’s why both men speed up their pace impossibly, no reason or rhyme. You feel a wolfish bite on your exposed neck - Satoru - fingers frenzied on your clit, thrusts stemming from such a carnal, depraved part of him. Falling out of sync with Toji as they get so sloppy with the goal to get you off - and get you off so hard that you can’t think about anything but them, them, them-

“Cum, doll.”

This orgasm is more obscene than the last. Far more. Because you honestly don’t even realize you’re cumming, not until you’re seeing stars behind your eyes and feeling Satoru and Toji slamming harshly into you. Once. Twice. Before spilling into you in unison. 

And it’s so much that you don’t even know if you can take it. 

Toji’s salty on your tongue, pumping thick, hot ropes of tongue into your mouth. Pulling out purposefully like the smug bastard he is to see his seed all messy and dribbling down your face. While Satoru’s much the opposite, keeping his twitching cock stuffed into your tight pussy while he paints your walls white. Not letting you waste a single drop.

But oh he didn’t mind when you finally pull yourself off of Toji’s dick. Cum smearing so sloppily all over your face, and shit he doesn’t think you’ve ever looked prettier. 

And Satoru really doesn’t mind when you look back and pull him into a kiss - Toji, too. If you can even call it that, a messy clash of teeth and tongue and cum. So much of it. Swirling and sucking on your tongue, bumping into each other. Just pure fucking filth. 

It gets Satoru’s dick so hard and throbbing all over again at how obscene it all was. Some weird little part of him is almost disappointed as Toji breaks the kiss - but not for long. Because his superior shifts, splaying himself out beneath you, while he pulls your limp body on top. 

Ah. Great minds really do think alike, he thinks as Toji drags his tip lazily all over your cunt. Pooling your juices on his fat head, grazing your poor, abused clit to where your sloppy pussy was quivering and still stuffed full of Satoru’s cock. Well, not like you didn’t have room for one more. Right?

It’s all you can do to babble deliriously, “W-wha-”

“Shhh, doll. We’ll take care of it.”

“After all, sweetheart, you did say you’d be our good girl…”

A/N. This got taken down the first time I posted it LMAO. 

Plagiarism not authorized.

[whimperingeto-deactivated202602]

always say that tonycries is that type of author that we read and need to stop and understand, be shocked, and go back reading again. and i looooove it

[cbini]

honey’s

pairing: hwang hyunjin x afab!reader

warnings: sex shop owner!hyunjin, exhibitionism, fingering, sexual enhancers, dirty talk, nipple clamps, pussy pumping, vibrators, ~special guests~, slight reader x special guests, rule 63!, spoiler alert… minsung minsunging, overstimulation, protected sex, cumming in mouth, cum kissing

a/n: thank you to my 🌵 anon for sending in the ask that inspired this baby! i hope this little fic does it justice and that you (and everyone else) enjoy it! happy new year my friends!!!! 🪩🥳🎈🍾 also this is the pic im referencing at the beginning! i feel like it would look super cool in hyunjin’s specific art style.

the store’s a lot more artsy than you remember it being. 

it’s the same store you bought your last little friend from, and now you’re in dire need of a new one. that’s your newest revelation, courtesy of one too many accidental edging sessions when your vibrator slows to a stop just as you’re about to cum… no matter how long you charge it for. 

it might be less embarrassing to buy a toy or two or three online, but you want to hold it in your hands. you want to see it for yourself before making your big decision. 

this is the prettiest sex shop you’ve ever been in, but it surely didn’t look like this the last time you came. maybe the shop is under new management? the walls are stark white with nearly floor-to-ceiling length pink and white cabinets spanning some of the area. glass shelves line the cabinets to display toy sets and other erotic memorabilia. you’re amazed by how the newly decorated shop manages to look both minimalist and maximalist at once. 

there’s a cursive, LED sign on the wall that reads: honey’s. 

and luckily for you, it seems you’re honey’s first customer of the day. 

despite the contents that fill the shelves before you, your eyes are first drawn to the erotic paintings that are hung on the walls. the paintings are beautiful, and you’re struck by the sensuality that emanates from them. couples lovingly entwined, tongues clashing, a dripping cunt spread open like a blooming flower. 

you’re drawn to the one in the far corner, feet carrying you there before you even think to look at the selection of toys the shop has to offer. 

it’s a woman, bare chested and beautiful, but you’ve never seen anything like this before. painted inside the swell of her glass-looking breasts is a snowy landscape that beholds a quaint little log cabin with warm lights aglow on the inside. there are snow capped trees and a rounded snowman with a top hat and carrot nose. the breast closest to you is cracked open and spills crystalline snow down the woman’s body. 

“i haven’t had time to take down all of my christmas decorations yet,” comes a voice from behind you. you whirl around to find the most handsome man you’ve ever seen in your life; of course you’re going to run into a literal sex god in this damned store. “that one’s my favorite.”

“it’s- wow, yeah. it’s beautiful! i’ve never seen anything like it before. do you know who the artist is? i don’t think i see a signature.” you’d love to see if they have any other works this unique.

“ah, i don’t know if i’d say artist right yet. i just- well, it’s only something i do in my spare time.” 

your eyes widen and you point at him, then the painting, then back at him again. the man laughs and shyly nods his head. 

“i kinda did all of them.” his head turns to the side and you see him eyeing his own paintings that adorn the white walls of the building. “oh! please, that’s not important. can i help you find anything? are you looking for something in particular?” 

it’s just then that you see the nametag on his shirt. hyunjin is written carefully on the laminated paper, completed by a flower hanging delicately off the end of the n. owner/manager is printed neatly underneath. 

it might be his job to help you, but his questions still catch you off guard. are you looking for anything in particular? another vibrator might be nice, but what if you want to try something different? or maybe you could buy more than one thing. you don’t know where to start though, so his help would actually be appreciated. 

“i actually kind of- well, i dunno what exactly i’m looking for. just browsing for now, i guess?” comes your answer. hyunjin hums and points to one of the shelves that’s closest to you. he must know you need some guidance. boy, do you.

hyunjin steps closer to the shelf and picks up one of the display toys, holding it out to you. god, embarrassingly enough, just seeing this gorgeous man holding the phallic shaped toy has your pussy throbbing in the confine of your jeans. 

“these are popular,” hyunjin notes, fingers gently gliding over the ridges and bumps of the toy. “our rabbit vibrators sell really well. we carry three kinds, see? this pink one right up here is a thruster, so if you like deep penetration this might be one you would enjoy. the one i’m holding is a- wait. yeah, this one rotates. the shaft rotates. see these little beads? those just give you some extra stimulation inside. and then lastly, this one over here is a g-spot massager. the tip curves so it vibrates right on your g-spot.”

you have to fight your jaw from dropping. this is his job; it’s literally his store. of course he knows about every single one of its toys and their functions. as he’s describing them though, you can’t help but imagine him using them on you. would he tie you up? make you beg for him to turn on the vibrations before fucking you senseless? maybe he’s not the type to make you beg and grovel for him to give you what you want. he seems like a sweetheart, a real loverboy. what if he just made you cum over and over again for his pleasure too? could he make you squirt? you bet he could. easily.

“these little ears are important too though.” hyunjin’s fingers stroke the small rabbit ears of the toy, and then he shows you his ring and middle fingers, moving them one at a time. “they vibrate too. you put ‘em right on your clit so she gets some stimulation too.” he must see you staring in awe at his hands, so you don’t even notice the small shy smile that graces his features. 

hyunjin puts the toy back in its display and turns around to walk to another shelf, and you follow him blindly. you listen as hyunjin tells you all about his best selling toys and his more unique ones. he even takes you by a section of the store that has lingerie and roleplay outfits. the man is truly good at his job. he’s well versed in the products that he carries, but he’s even better at making you fucking horny. at least you know you’ll have absolutely no issue cumming when you get home, whether you have a new toy or not. your hands and the memory of hyunjin’s erotic words will surely be more than enough to get you there. 

“you must be so tired of hearing my voice now, i’ve been talking your ear off for twenty minutes! please, feel free to look around some more and i can wait for you at the register.” hyunjin lightly bows to you a couple of times and swiftly turns around to make his way to the cash register. 

in truth, you’re not ready for him to leave you yet. you enjoyed listening to him talk, not only because it gives you spank bank material for later but because you can tell how much he genuinely enjoys his job and cares about his customers finding pleasure. you grab a box of the g-spot rabbit vibrator from earlier and immediately make your way to the counter to be close to hyunjin again. 

the glass counter is just as erotic as the rest of his store. flavored lubes, condoms, bullet vibrators, cockrings, and sexual enhancers line the glass shelves of the counter, and you can’t help but look diligently at everything that hyunjin’s store has to offer. 

the laminated piece of paper that’s taped carefully to the top of the counter catches your eye when you place your new vibrator in hyunjin’s reach.

demonstration model(s) wanted!! come find hyunjin to discuss options if interested :)

hyunjin watches you read the notice once, twice, and when you look up at him he’s already looking at you. you can’t place the look on his face, but it makes you even more curious about the letter. 

“demonstration models? like for what?”

“for honey’s, honey,” hyunjin says, playing coy with you. “sometimes people come in and don’t know what they want. what they’re into or interested in… i can explain how things work all day, you know, but it might just be easier to show them.”

no fucking way. 

a demonstration model for sex toys? 

hyunjin must see the confused look in your eyes, and he gives you a goofy giggle in response. it easily lightens the mood and makes you laugh with him. 

“maybe it sounds scarier than it is? i mean, i would be the one using them on y- um. the model! you know? or maybe it’s just plain weird? no one’s really asked about it, so, i dunno. i just think it could be helpful! something fun and an easy way to show customers how things work.” 

hyunjin… hyunjin using sex toys on you? using you to sell his products and help people explore sexually? you’re trying to explore sexually after all, so maybe it doesn’t actually sound as bizarre as you originally thought it did. 

hyunjin hasn’t even moved to start ringing your rabbit vibrator up, and you place your elbows on the counter and scrub at your eyes in contemplation. you can’t believe you’re about to do this.

“what if i might be interested? in that? would i be okay?”

hyunjin’s dark eyes trail from your eyes to your lips, and he licks his own. holy shit. 

“i think you’d be perfect.”

that’s how you find yourself naked and waiting not even fifteen minutes later. you didn’t notice the small, black velvet loveseat that’s nestled to the side of the counter. you can’t help but think it’s a little cute that hyunjin had already prepared for this even though no one had asked him about his demonstration notice. 

goosebumps prickle on your legs when hyunjin runs an elegant hand up your thigh and smiles at you, brown eyes squinting and cheeks bunching in delight. 

“that’s fucking gorgeous,” he coos. hyunjin’s fingers are treading tenderly on the mound of your cunt, tracing patterns that only he can make out. you haven’t shaved. you didn’t exactly leave your apartment in preparation to be played with and possibly fucked in public. hyunjin visibly loves the hair that adorns your nether region though, so you can’t help but preen under his much wanted attention. he’s propped delicately on the edge of the couch so he can take all of you in fully. 

the first touch of his fingers to your cunt makes your eyes flutter. 

“that’s right, that’s perfect. just enjoy it,” hyunjin hums. your pussy’s already wet; it’s been soaked for as long as you can remember, and hyunjin’s deft fingers quickly make themselves comfortable with your aching cunt. your legs are already spread wide, and with his hand on your thigh, you wouldn’t dream of closing them now. 

hyunjin drags his hand away from your center so that he can lick two of his fingers and bring them back down to your clit. he rubs it just firm enough to have your toes curling, and he gives you a wicked grin when he sees how your body reacts to his touches. as if you’re not already wet enough, hyunjin leans down and spits directly down onto your clit. he catches it with his fingers and spreads it around. 

“fuck, listen to that.” you can’t help but listen to it. you’re sure the shops across the street can hear the wet sounds of hyunjin’s fingers and spit making an even bigger mess of your cunt. he works his fingers faster, and you hold your breath when the sloppy sound gets louder throughout the open space of the shop. 

just as you’re about to start fucking his hand, he pulls away. hyunjin leans towards the counter, but he’s not gone long. he turns his body back towards you and shows you one of the jars that came from the center shelf of the counter.

you silently read the words in swirly font and whine, and all hyunjin does is giggle.

“read it for me, angel.”

“m-make- make me cum. clit s-sensitizer,” you stutter. “it’s- oh hyunjin, ‘m already so sensitive.”

he only hums in response and unscrews the top of the small jar, taking a small dab on his index finger. “it’ll make your pretty pussy feel even better. hyunjinnie’s just gonna put a little bit on your cute little clit, okay?” 

he does just as he says, taking his index finger and gently rubbing your clit with it. the coolness of the gel makes you shudder, and hyunjin soothes you with a warm hand to your side. 

“we’ll just give it fifteen minutes to settle, yes? it’s gonna get your clit all tingly. make it so much easier for me to make it cum.”

he sounds so confident in it, but you know he wouldn’t have trouble making you cum even without the gel. you don’t have time to wonder what you’ll do for the next fifteen minutes while you wait for the clit sensitizer to sensitize because hyunjin tells you to just sit there and look pretty. he still has a store to run, so you settle on watching hyunjin piddle around the store and restock some things. 

it doesn’t take long for you to start feeling the impact of that little amount of gel hyunjin rubbed on you. he was right though, as he always seems to be. your clit starts to tingle slightly and it sends a shiver down your spine. 

everything catches up to you quickly, and before you know it, your hand is between your spread legs rubbing at your sensitive clit. 

“o-oh, hyunjin. hyunjin!” you cry, and he looks over at you from his spot in front of one of the displays. his eyes are dark and yearning, and you find yourself putting on a show for him without a second thought. 

hyunjin once again joins you on the velvet loveseat and licks his fingers again, bringing two down to tease at your clenching hole while you circle your clit. 

“gotta- hyunjinnie, you’ve gotta be gentle with me. please? i haven’t had anything inside in a while.” you’re not even being coy, you’re telling him the truth, but he moans all the same.

“promise i’ll be gentle, sweetheart. gonna get you ready. get your pussy so relaxed you’ll wanna take it all.” you don’t know what all entails, but you already want it. he looks at you and with your nod of confirmation, works one long finger inside of you. your head thunks against the backrest of the loveseat, and hyunjin curls his finger just right. 

“i- oh, i’m gonna cum, like, right now. hyunjin, ‘m gonna cum already!” you’re squirming so hard you almost knee him off the loveseat, but he follows your movements diligently so he can help get you there. 

he almost growls at your confession and keeps the pace of his finger steady inside you. your fingers slip and slide against your clit, and hyunjin looks at you in awe. the combination of his reverent gaze, his fingers, and the tingling on your clit is too much to handle. 

“see? you feel it, angel? keep rubbing like that and i’ll keep my finger in this little hole, okay? go ahead and cum so i can give you another.”

it’s easy to cum with hyunjin coaxing you like that, and your back bows off the loveseat when you do. your legs clamp shut around his and your hand, but they both keep moving slightly until you’re pulling your own fingers away and tapping at hyunjin’s delicate wrist. 

he looks into your eyes from his spot beside you, and you smile at the same time. 

“how was that?” hyunjin asks. like he really needs to.

you scoff, but it turns into a genuine laugh. “that was crazy! i don’t think i’ve ever cum that fast in my life. except for maybe, like, the first time i ever used a vibe.” 

hyunjin laughs too and sucks his finger clean. if he keeps that up you’ll be ready to go again in no time. the clit sensitizer is still definitely putting in work. 

“well get ready, honey. we’ve got a long day ahead of us.”

hyunjin does have to work, despite you sitting naked and pretty on his little velvet couch. you watch him respond to several emails and pack a few orders to ship out later in the week, but ultimately the day is going by a little slowly. nothing nearly to complain about; spending time with hyunjin is proving to be one of your new favorite things in life, but you do wonder how long he’ll want you like this if no one other than you steps foot into honey’s today. 

your thought quickly proves moot when the door chimes, and you hear the voice of someone talking on the phone.

“okay. okay- yes~ you’ll just have to see when you get home, jagi. i just walked in. yop, bye.” 

oh holy shit, it’s happening. 

you’re hidden from the entrance by the many displays in hyunjin’s shop, but the second the customer steps closer to the counter you’ll be spotted. 

hyunjin gives you a wink and rounds the counter to go greet his second customer of the day.

“lee minho-ssi, back so soon?” hyunjin teases. 

“yeh,” comes the man’s quick response. “take me to your nipple clamps.”

you have to fight a whimper at that. what is this sorcery? even thinking about hyunjin using nipple clamps on you has your own nipples hardening in record time. you can hear the two men talking from the other side of the room, and you’re aching to be touched again. 

it doesn’t take too long for you to hear steps coming your way. you see hyunjin first, and in his hands is a pair of nipple clamps. he wiggles his eyebrows at you before stepping behind the counter and waiting for the other man to follow. 

minho is just as gorgeous as hyunjin is, how unfair is this! he’s carrying another pair of clamps in his hands, and all he does is blink when he sees you behind the counter. 

“hyunjinnie, i think that sex doll is alive,” minho says, eyeing you up and down. 

“my dolls are in the back~” hyunjin sing-songs. “my demonstration model! hyung, my model.” 

“ah, i see,” minho responds and taps a small finger on the glass of the counter. 

hyunjin reaches back and pets your head. 

“so look, you’re not sure which one to buy, right? we can help you decide!”

you thought hyunjin had a wicked grin when he was acting mischievous; he has nothing on lee minho. that crooked front tooth would be cute if he didn’t have such a naughty glint in his eye.

hyunjin takes the pair of nipple clamps that he’s holding and sits beside you on the loveseat once more. you’ve never worn clamps before, but they’ve always peaked your interest. the particular ones that hyunjin is holding don’t look too compromising. the tips of the clamps are covered with rubber to help hold them in place and provide a cushion for its wearer, but hanging off the end of the clamps is a cluster of black feathers. 

“okay, honey. see this little screw right here?” hyunjin brings the clamp closer to your face so that he can point out the screw to you, and you watch him fiddle with it. “i’m gonna losen it before i put it on you, yes? we can tighten it as we go once i know you feel comfortable.”

“thank you for taking care of me, hyunjinnie.” you can’t help but say it. he’s been so good to you all day, and he leans in and places a soft kiss to the breast closest to him in thanks. 

your nipples aren’t as hard as they were a few minutes ago, but hyunjin blows lightly on one, then the other, causing them to pebble and harden once again. he starts with one nipple, slowly easing the clamp shut on the peak of it. you gasp at the pressure. it’s not bad at all, definitely a unique feeling, and it has you biting your lip and squeezing your thighs together. 

“i think your little dolly likes it,” minho hums. he’s leaned against the counter, casually clamping and unclamping one of the clamps he has in his hand.

“you want it a little tighter or is it fine like this?” hyunjin asks, flicking at the cluster of feathers and grinning when it tickles the sensitive skin of your chest. 

“little- little tighter. yeah,” you breathe. you can handle that. your thighs continue to squeeze sporadically as hyunjin tightens the screw on the clamp. “t-there! that. holy fuck.”

hyunjin repeats the process with your other nipple, clamping it softly and tightening the tips of the clamp to your liking. when he’s done, he gets up to stand by minho so he can get the full picture of you. he nods his head firmly and sits back down beside you once he’s looked his fill. 

“yes, no, maybe so?” hyunjin asks, looking at minho for confirmation. 

“the feathers are a nice touch. do they tickle?”

“y-yeah, um. they do a little bit,” you respond. 

hyunjin takes your breasts in his large hands and jiggles them, causing the feathers to brush against your skin with the movements. you quiver, and a whimper leaves your lips. 

“definitely a contender. let’s look at the other one,” minho suggests, and hyunjin gently unclamps your nipples. they’re tender already just from the short amount of time he had them on you, but you find that you really don’t mind the feeling. they ache, and you wish that hyunjin would soothe them with his tongue. 

the other pair is a little more intimidating, but you have a feeling that this is the one minho’s going to go with. hyunjin says this pair is considered a nipple grip. the silver outline of a flower goes around your nipple, and there are four small screws that hyunjin will need to tighten in order for the grip to stay in place on your nipple. he repeats the process with you delicately just like he did with the last pair.

the biggest difference between the pairs is that this one has a weighted ball chained to the grips. the screws stimulate your nipples and give you that perfect mix of pain and pleasure, and the weighted ball definitely adds to it.

“depending on your partner’s preferences, you can change the ball. you can go heavier, lighter, whatever,” hyunjin tells the other man, and he nods. 

“how’s the weight?” minho addresses you again. 

“it’s- not too bad? i think i’m ge- getting used to it, kinda.” you bite your lips and look down at your nipples. you already know they’re going to be swollen when hyunjin takes the grips off you.

“not too bad?” minho asks again, and you shake your head. he moves to stand in front of you though and crouches down so he’s eye level with your face. he uses both hands and lifts the balls of the nipple grips with one finger each, taking the added weight off of your nipples. your breath hitches in relief, but it doesn’t last for long. minho takes his hands away immediately and the balls drop, and you squeal. the weight tugs on your overly sensitive nipples, and hyunjin holds you as you thrash. 

minho pets your hair and smiles that devilish bunny smile again.

“i’ll take them both.”

much to your enjoyment, hyunjin does soothe your nipples with his mouth after he rings minho up for his purchases and sees him out the door. his lips are plush and soft, and his tongue flicks at your nipples just gentle enough after their rough treatment. 

your hands card through his dark purple hair, and he sighs against the skin of your chest. his arms are wrapped protectively around you, almost as if he’s enjoying this as much as you are. 

you’re both pulled out of your shared moment of relaxation when the door chimes once again. “yah, hwang hyunjin! where are you hiding?” 

hyunjin grumbles against your chest and pulls away with a grimace, like he’d rather stay here than do anything else. he pats your thigh and slowly gets up, adjusting himself in his pants before making his way to whoever now stands inside. 

“ah, hyung. no need to yell, i’m right here!” you hear hyunjin let out an undignified oof! and you have to hold in a laugh when you assume he just got bearhugged. “changbinnie hyung, i can’t breathe.”

you don’t hear much else for a few minutes. hyunjin must be walking with changbin while he peruses the store. at least with minho, he announced right away what he was looking for. now, with this new guy, the anticipation is almost killing you. you’re lost in your thoughts when you finally see hyunjin once again returning to the counter, this time changbin is right on his heels. 

“oh? who’s this?” he greets you normally like you’re not sitting there ass naked on a loveseat. changbin bows his head lightly and waves a hand at you. you wave back. 

“changbin hyung, my demonstration model!”

they must have talked about this before because changbin snaps his fingers in acknowledgement, an excited ahh! leaving his lips. 

“well, your model is really going to come in handy because i have no clue how to use this,” changbin says, fiddling with the box you’re not sure how you missed him set on the check-out counter. hyunjin hums in acknowledgement and opens the box to remove its contents, and even you’re confused with what it is. a breathing mask?

once again, the spot next to you is taken by hyunjin. he lets you hold the toy, the whatever it is, and you turn it over in your hands. 

“have you ever heard of a pussy pump, sweetheart?” it still sends you reeling that hyunjin can just talk like that so freely. 

you’ve heard of one before, but you didn’t know this is what it was. 

“here, watch me. this cup is gonna go over your cute little cunt, right? i’m gonna put some lube around the edges so it seals tight and place it right over your pussy. you can hold it in place for me, and then i’m gonna squeeze this bulb right here on the end of this tube, you see? every time i squeeze it, it’s gonna create a suction that makes your pussy all puffy.” he looks at changbin, and the older man nods along to show that he’s paying close attention. hyunjin looks back at you again. “it’s gonna get your pussy all chubby because of the increased blood, and it’ll be so sensitive and feel so good. it might sound a little scary, but all we have to do is press this little release valve right here, and it’ll break the seal so i can take it off.”

you’ve never done anything like that in your life, and truth be told it makes you a little nervous. trying new things is always a little bit nerve wracking, but even though you just met him today, you trust hyunjin. 

“hey, if you don’t want to do it, that’s okay. i can just buy it and test it out first with someone when i get the chance. i’m a big boy, i can figure it out myself,” changbin says, sensing your nerves. 

but you want to try it.

“yeah? you do?” hyunjin asks. he seems to be pretty excited about your decision himself.

“yeah, i- well. it sounds kinda hot?” 

“it’s so fucking hot, what the fuck?” changbin cuts in, and it sends all of you into a fit of laughter. 

soon, hyunjin helps you spread yourself further on the loveseat. you’re damn near folded in half, and hyunjin kneels on the floor in front of you while you hold the cup against your sopping pussy. 

“ready?” he asks tenderly, and changbin grunts in response. you nod your head yes and reach down with your unoccupied hand to grip hyunjin’s shoulder. 

the first time hyunjin squeezes the bulb, it shocks a gasp out of you. it’s more the sound that does it, you can’t really feel the suction just yet, but hyunjin keeps going when you tell him he can. you’re feeling it soon, and your body sings at the way both hyunjin and changbin stare openly at your cunt. you can feel it enlarging, the lips of your pussy and your clit.

“do- do you like it? is it okay?” you cry, voice shaky. you’re nervous. what if they don’t like how it looks? it’s getting so tight in the cup, but it feels so good. changbin bites his bottom lip and cocks his head like he’s in disbelief. he lets hyunjin answer for the both of them.

“good enough to eat, baby, god. it’s gonna be so fucking swollen when i take this off…” hyunjin licks his lips. “so damn sexy.” 

you preen again, arching your back and pressing your palms into the velvet of the loveseat.

“can you take it off? i- fuck, i’m so horny,” you whine. hyunjin presses on the valve and your mouth drops open when the pressure is released from your cunt. hyunjin slowly brings the cup away from your pussy and sets it on the seat beside you. his mouth has dropped open too.

he slides his fingers through the wet, swollen mess of your cunt, and you cry out. changbin whistles when hyunjin presses the meat of your pussy lips together. your clit almost peeks through. hyunjin plays with you for a few moments, feeling all over your swollen lips and your clit, pinching and probing like he’s checking on his work. 

he didn’t go too far with the pumping, but your pussy is definitely fatter and darker than it was before he started. 

“hyung, look how swollen that little clit is,” hyunjin breathes. he spreads your lips with his fingers and pinches at your clit. it’s almost enough to send you careening off the couch, but changbin’s come close enough for them to both hold you in place. “when you try it with a partner, hyung, it’ll feel so good around your cock. it’ll be so hot and tight inside. wanna feel?” 

you whimper. it’s already so overwhelming to have hyunjin’s hands on your body like this, but adding changbin’s too? you don’t know if you can handle it.

hyunjin spreads the lips of your pussy and scoots to the side so changbin has more room to feel of you himself. changbin’s fingers are thicker than hyunjin’s, and they feel so fucking good when he slips them inside of you. he thrusts them deeper, making your pussy squelch, and hyunjin hisses through his teeth.

“tight fit,” changbin grunts, and you nod your head. you’re tight for them. “ah, mercy. those puffy lips… shit, hyunjinnie, i’m buying one. i’m sold. hurry and ring me up, hyung has to go jerk off now. and you, cutie. if he doesn’t make you cum today, tell him to give you my number.” 

despite how much you can see changbin wants to stay and talk to hyunjin, he leaves in a hurry with a new, clean pump that hyunjin pulled from the back room of his shop. you can’t see it, but you do hear changbin hold the door open on his way out for someone else to come inside.

“oh? what’s this? you just missed minho, he was here not too long ago!” hyunjin says to the person that entered the store. 

“i know! he got me something but i’m not sure what. i want to surprise him too!” 

it’s a woman, her voice is chirpy and bright. you can’t wait to see what she looks like.

while hyunjin is busy with his new customer, you busy yourself with your swollen cunt. it feels so different after being pumped. hyunjin was right, you’re sensitive, but you don’t know if it’s more from the residual sensitizer gel or the pump itself. maybe it’s a mix of both. 

you can’t believe your clit fucking feels like that. it’s big, swollen all puffy and slick between your fingers. you want to wait for hyunjin, but you can’t bring yourself to. you pluck at it lightly, but it’s so swollen you can almost jerk it off. oh, isn’t that an erotic thought, so you do just that. your fingers move shallowly up and down on your clit, pinching and rubbing it between your sticky-wet thumb and index finger. your other hand runs up your body to play with your still aching nipples, and it’s not long before you’re making yourself cum with a shaky moan while hyunjin sees about his customer. 

you can hear them stop talking at the front of the store, but it’s not enough to get you to be quiet. you’re still mewling by the time you finally see hyunjin again, and he rounds the counter once more with a toy you’ve dreamed of having for years. 

hyunjin’s too busy staring at you to notice where he’s walking, and he walks right into the pointed edge of the counter. he heaves a dramatic hiss, eyes squinting shut as he brings a fist up to his mouth to bite at. 

“woah, are you alri- woah,” comes the voice from earlier. 

your own eyes leave hyunjin to land on one of the prettiest girls you’ve ever seen in your life. she’s mousy, cute and lithe, with big eyes and a little button mouth. her eyes go straight to your still-pulsing pussy, and you spread your legs wider for her. 

“is your pussy always that juicy or are you just happy to see me?” she says in a daze. hyunjin slaps a hand to his forehead, but that doesn’t deter the girl at the counter. 

“jesus, jisungie. this is my model, remember? the demonstration model i’ve been looking for? we just tested out a pussy pump before you got here.”

“no fucking way!” she exclaims, eyes glancing from your cunt, to hyunjin, then back to your cunt. “i’ve been wanting to try one of those. did you like it?”

you nod at her, and she nods excitedly back, gums and pretty white teeth on display. 

“it’s, um-! sensitive. i’m so s-sensitive down there. everything is, like, heightened.” that’s an understatement. you already want to cum again, and you just came. 

“that’s perfect! hyunjin, can you try the toy for me?”

hyunjin starts pulling the toy out of its box, and he shows it to you when he sits down beside you. you’ve always wanted one, a wand, you’ve just never allowed yourself to splurge on one before. it plugs right into the outlet that’s situated below the loveseat, and you’re already thrumming with need. 

“you know what this thing is, don’t you?” hyunjin asks you with a smile. “you ever used a magic wand before?”

“no, just- just regular vibrators. i’ve wanted to though. they always look like they feel so good,” you respond, and out of the corner of your eye you see jisung bite her lip. 

“this one’s got several different stimulation modes, alright? four vibration speeds and four different pulsing patterns, so you can pick which one you like the best.”

“oh, minho’s going to love that,” jisung answers absentmindedly, pinching at her plump little bottom lip. “it should work on cocks too, right?”

hyunjin snorts a laugh and looks back at his friend. 

“it’s not for you?” 

“i mean, i’ll use it or whatever, but i want to use it on minho first,” comes jisung’s response. she’s explaining herself to hyunjin like that’s the most obvious answer in the world. 

“doesn’t that, i don’t know, defeat the whole purpose of the demonstration right now?” hyunjin asks. he’s about to demonstrate how the wand works on your pussy, not a dick. he shakes his head with a smile like he’s just used to jisung’s antics.

“no! no, nope. hell no. demonstrate away! haha, um. please? yeah.” 

hyunjin shakes his head again and finally holds the wand to your still puffy cunt.

“spread your lips for me… theeere you go. perfect, angel. that’s perfect, so you’ll feel those vibrations right on your clit. you ready?” 

you can’t get over the way hyunjin talks to you, talks you through things. he’s a dream. when you give him the go ahead, he turns the wand on its lowest setting, and it already has your back bowing. you have to fight to keep your hand steady where it spreads your pussy lips open for hyunjin. it feels so good; you’re only on the first setting, and you can already tell the wand lives up to its hype. 

“ready for me to go up one?” hyunjin asks, and at your dazed nod he clicks the button to go up one level. the vibrations get louder, and you can definitely tell they’re a little bit stronger this time. if you were at home, you’re already certain this would be your preferred vibration setting. it’s perfect. your toes are curling. 

hyunjin asks you again if you’re ready for another setting, and he changes it once more. 

“o-oh, god. that’s- oh wow, that’s s-so much,” your teeth chatter with it. 

when hyunjin gives you the last level of vibration, you almost shatter apart. it’s too much, too rough on your sensitive and overused pussy, and you’re pushing his hand away quickly. hyunjin immediately pulls the wand away from you and sets it to the side so that he can soothe an elegant hand up your stomach.

“that setting would have made me squirt all over myself in like three seconds,” jisung announces with wide eyes. “it sounded like a fucking drill, no way!” 

“the wand’s a lot, do you wanna be done?” hyunjin coos, kneading at your stomach like a cat. the softest, most gentle cat in the whole wide world. you shake your head though, determined to feel the four different pulsing settings and show jisung everything her possible new toy is capable of doing. 

you bring the head of the wand back to your pussy yourself, much to hyunjin’s surprise and satisfaction. he looks up at jisung and quirks his eyebrow, and she gives him a wink. you press the wave-looking button on the wand, and the first level of pulsing begins. it starts off with bursts of vibrations that get slower and slower until it gives one last quick succession of pulses, and then starts again. you stay on that setting for a bit to get acclimated to it. you can only imagine how crazy it would drive you if you were close to cumming, how the pulses slow down and make your cunt ache before the quick burst of them at the end. 

“you’re so fucking pretty,” jisung breathes, and your eyes flutter when you look up at her. “oh my god, baby, don’t look at me like that. you’ll make my pussy wet.”

“it’s not wet already?” hyunjin asks, incredulous. “how could you see this view and not get turned on right away?” 

“i’m actually trying really hard not to shove my hand down my pants, thanks.”

their back and forth doesn’t phase you at all, and you roll your shoulders when you click the button again to go to the next setting. the second pulsing setting is a lot different than the first; it’s almost like this one is revving like a car engine. the vibrations start soft and progress quickly, and you’re adjusting your hold on the wand so it settles slightly less directly on your overstimulated clit. 

hyunjin has a steady hand on your thigh that’s closest to him, gripping and kneading the warm flesh while he dutifully watches you use the wand on yourself. 

you bring a hand up to your forehead to wipe the sweaty strands of your hair away from it before hitting the button on the wand once more. the third setting is a little bit more similar to the first. there’s a long vibration that trails off into a sequence of quick bursts.

“that one’s- that one’s good, oh,” you whimper. 

“yeah? that one feels the best so far?” hyunjin asks, and you nod back at him. “here, let me hold it, sweetheart.”

his hand reaches down to hold the wand in place so that your wrist can catch a break. you tap his arm and shakily tell him to try the last setting, and he does with your go ahead. the last setting has your hands scrambling for purchase on the velvety fabric of the loveseat, and jisung is quick to kneel in front of you and hold both of your hands. her hands are bony and a little clammy, but you’re sure yours can’t be any better. 

the last setting starts high and goes low; you can feel your thigh start to quiver in hyunjin’s grip. you’re so close to cumming, and it’s almost like hyunjin can read your mind. almost as soon as he starts the fourth setting, he clicks the wave button three times so he can go back and find the third pulsing setting once more since it was your favorite. your hands squeeze jisung’s, and she squeezes back.

“oh my god, baby, are you gonna cum?” she asks, and you can’t even answer her because you’re too busy letting out a squeal. the intense vibrations push you over the edge in no time, and you snatch your hands from jisung’s grasp so that you can shove the wand away from your pulsing cunt and snap your legs shut.

two pairs of hands settle you and help you come down. hyunjin’s pressed close to your side, and his hands now caress every inch of skin he can find. jisung’s smaller hands massage your calves and rub at your ankles from where she’s kneeling on the ground. 

“h-holy fuck, holy fuck,” you breathe. hyunjin already turned the wand off, but you swear your ears are still ringing with the sound of it. your bones still rattle with the feel of it.

“ten out of ten, would recommend? i trust your verdict,” jisung says. 

“t-ten, yeah. ten definitely.”

when jisung leaves, she does so with your number now in her phone and a promise to have lunch this coming weekend. she also leaves with a brand new magic wand.

hyunjin waves his friend goodbye, and when you hear the jingle of the doorbell, he rushes to lock the door behind her. one perk of being the owner of a store is that you guess he can close shop whenever the hell he wants.

he comes back and is on you in a hurry, and you’re met with a bruising kiss. despite all you and hyunjin have gotten up to today, this is your first kiss. it’s messy, but you have a feeling he likes messy, so your tongue keeps batting at his and you refuse to mind the mess of spit that seeps down your chin. 

“let me fuck this pussy, baby, please? please, i’ll beg for it,” hyunjin moans against your lips. a man who’s not too proud to beg? you hit the jackpot today. “you’re a goddess. fuck, please, i’d do anything to have your pussy!” 

you were going to let him fuck you whether he begged for it or not, but this certainly helps your case. your cunt’s still swollen and oh so sensitive, and you can’t help but rub at your clit with your own shaky fingers. it doesn’t take long for you to snatch your hand away though, the sensitivity proving too much for right now. hyunjin watches and busies himself with haphazardly reaching behind him to blindly search for a condom in his counter filled with trinkets. he knocks over a few things in his haste to do so, but he comes away victorious with a little black packet. 

he hurriedly unbuttons and unzips his pants to pull them down his thighs, and that’s when you see his cock for the first time. it’s long and thick, beautiful just like him because of course it is. the tip is a ruddy pink-purple and it’s leaking steadily in preparation for you. hopefully some other time he’ll let you put it in your mouth.

he sees you watching, so he puts on a show for you. he’s just as good as you are, slowly stroking his pretty cock in an equally pretty hand from base to tip. he circles the tip several times before dragging his hand back down the length.

“i’ve been hard all day because of you, you know that? everything we’ve done went straight to my cock, sweetheart, you’re a dream come true.” 

it’s funny he says that because you’ve thought the same thing all day. 

hyunjin tears the foil packet with his teeth, and you’re licking your lips in anticipation. once he has the condom safely on, he bends at the knees and positions himself at your drippy hole. the swelling has started to go down a little bit from the pumping earlier, but it’s still puffy and more swollen than usual. 

“gonna be gentle with you, honey, like you told me to earlier. ah fuck, my cock… get you drooling on it,” he grunts. the pressure from the head of his dick at your tight little hole already has you mewling high in your throat. 

“take- takin’ such good care of me, hyunjinnie, all day. made my pussy feel so good all day! no one’s ever made me feel like you have,” you breathe, and hyunjin groans loudly into the air. his head is thrown back as he breaches your hole, hand cocked on his hip, and his eyes squeeze shut. 

he fucks you with the bulbous tip of his cock until you’re going crosseyed. 

“d-deeper, deeper please! gimme all of it, please.” he said earlier that he’d get you ready for all of it. maybe this is what he meant. 

when he fucks all the way inside, all of your breath leaves your lungs in an exhale. your mouth is open, eyes rolling, toes curling, hands balling into fists at your sides. you don’t know what to do with yourself, and especially when hyunjin steadies himself on his feet and grinds his lithe hips forward. 

“oh my fucking god,” hyunjin breathes. “your fucking pussy!” he grits his teeth and swipes a hand through his sweaty hair. it slams down on the backrest of the loveseat, and all you can see is hyunjin hyunjin hyunjin. 

he fucks you like he means it. he’s gentle, just like he said he would be, but you can only imagine the power his hips must have when he’s rougher. 

hyunjin presses in to the hilt and stops, grinding his hips deep and stilling as he’s all the way inside of you, thighs pressed tight to the backs of yours. he’s so deep it feels like he’s in your fucking throat. the tips of your fingers push against his stomach as if to push him back, but you don’t want him to go anywhere. you need him inside where he belongs. 

“‘s deep, oh my god. y-you’re-! hyunjin. hyunjinnie, ‘s so fucking deep inside.”

“my angel wanted it deep. i’m giving you what you want, no?” he coos, taking your hands from his stomach and entwining them together to rest on your thighs. you just nod nod nod your head, bobbling like a bobblehead because hyunjin’s got you so fucked out on his cock. “fucking deep because your pussy’s just sucking me in.” 

it is; you want to keep him there forever. snug and hard inside your cunt where he belongs. 

hyunjin makes to thumb at your clit, but you’re quick to stop him before he can. you’re too sensitive, clit sore and achy in ways that you haven’t felt in a long, long time. you’re already satisfied with the amount you’ve cum today, and you’re not too sure you could cum again at this point anyways. maybe after a few hours of downtime you can. 

it’s not long before hyunjin’s hips are faltering, his thrusts becoming choppy and uncoordinated. he’s been hard all day, desperate and waiting for the chance to be able to fuck himself inside your beautiful pussy. 

“perfect pussy for me,” he hisses, halfway to delirious by now. “‘m gonna burst! fuck, i’ll cum. i’ll fucking cum if you keep looking at me like that.” dazed and cock-drunk, like he’s the best you’ve ever had. 

hyunjin’s cock slips from your cunt, and you’re about to cry for him to put it back when he steps onto the loveseat, feet framing your hips, and strips his cock above your mouth. your jaw drops open, immediately sticking your tongue out and whimpering at the taste of yourself on the latex of the condom. he rips the condom off of his dick and tosses it blindly on the floor, holding your head for balance with one hand and jerking himself off with the other. 

it doesn’t take him long at all to cum, you’ve had him worked up all day and fucking your pussy was something out of his wildest dreams. he cums with a shout, not bothering to bite his lip or quiet himself because he wants you to know you make him feel good.

hyunjin’s cum coats your tongue, and before you get the chance to swallow it, he’s bending down to kiss you messily. it’s wet. so sloppy and dirty that is has you desperately wishing you could cum again, and hyunjin slips your tongue into his mouth to suck on. he pulls away breathless and drops back to the ground but plops halfway onto your lap when he settles beside you on the loveseat. you’re both breathing heavily, and hyunjin regards you once and then gives you a dazzling, sleepy smile. 

“would you go to dinner with me?” he asks. there are shadows on the reflection of the floor which must mean the sun is setting.

“i’d love to. can you give me like thirty minutes? i can’t feel my legs.”

[christopherbangme97]

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[holeforzenin-deactivated2026032]

౨ৎ Scissoring with best friend Yuki before your wedding reception :3

cw - cheating, scissoring + a tiny bonus at the end :3

The bridal suite carried a faint haze of expensive perfume and champagne, sweetness clinging to the air and mixing with the sharp undercurrent of nerves. Layers of white fabric rustled around you as you stood halfway dressed, bodice snug against your ribs while the untouched veil rested neatly on the chair like a promise waiting to be fulfilled.

The quiet was broken only by the soft click of the door, Yuki slipping inside with careful ease, shutting it behind her softly.

Her eyes lingered on you, taking in every inch of you dressed in white—hair done, gown, the careful touch of makeup that made you look almost untouchable. The corner of her mouth curled until it broke into a feral grin, sharp against the softness of the bridal glow. “Mmm,” she breathed, voice low and cutting through the silence, “you look so pure”. Her gaze darkened as she stepped closer, grin widening. “Shame you’re about to ruin it with me”.

Before you could even form a reply, Yuki had you caged against the vanity, the cool edge of it pressing into your lower back as her body closed in on yours. Her lips crashed onto yours—passionate, and rough enough to steal the breath from your chest.

The careful swipe of lipstick you applied earlier smeared in an instant, staining both your mouths as her kiss deepened. Her hands were already restless, gathering up the heavy folds of your gown in greedy fists, tugging and shoving until the satin and lace bunched high around your waist, leaving your legs bare and trembling beneath her touch.

“Mmm, C’mon babe,” she whispered against your mouth, her breath hot as her fingers hooked into the thin band of your panties and yanked them sharply aside. The motion was impatient and practiced—her knuckles brushing your thigh as she forced the barrier away. At the same time, the fabric of her own dress bunched higher and higher until the hem rode up over her hips, baring the slick heat that’s sticky between her legs. She pressed forward without hesitation, the soft, wet slide of her bare, soaked cunt grinding lewdly against yours. “One last fuck,” she taunted, voice breaking into a low laugh, “before you play house with him”.

The grind was wet and immediate. Your clits slid together with a sloppy kiss that had her sticky juices melting into your pussy, your thighs already slicked up and warm as the sound of your wet pussies smacking filled the quiet room. Behind you, the vanity rattled with each shove, drawers quivering in their slots as Yuki bore down harder, her hips snapping against yours with reckless force.

“Fuck, hear that?” she moaned, as her fingers dug hard into the curve of your ass, dragging you closer so she could rut against you harder. Each thrust made the slick between you grow louder, and wetter, until it was all you could hear over your own gasps. “Your perfect little bridal cunt kissing mine on your wedding day. You’re dripping all over me—look at this mess”. She taunts in your eye, her nails pressed into your skin as she ground forward, hips rolling to smear the mess across both of you.

You whimpered softly, the sound muffled as you buried your face against her shoulder, desperate to hide from the sight and the shame curling in your chest. But Yuki wasn’t having it—her hand came up, fingers gripping your chin as she wrenched your head back, forcing your eyes to meet the mirror in front of you.

The reflection was damning: your gown hitched up indecently high, white fabric bunched around your waist in tangled folds, while her leg hooked over yours to lock you open. Between you, your pretty cunts slid together in messy, slippery strokes, every wet grind painting the mirror with the image of how obscene you both looked tangled up like this.

“Watch us,” she ordered, her tone sharp enough to cut through your whimpers. Her grip on your chin tightened, holding your gaze locked to the glass. “Watch how nasty you are,” she laughed, sliding down rougher, your cunts mashing together roughly so the obscene squelch of slick filled the air, “scissoring me in your gown while everyone’s out there waiting for you”. Her eyes burned in the reflection, wild and satisfied. “What would they think,” she purred, lips curling against your ear, “if they saw the bride dripping down my thigh instead of walking down the aisle?”.

Every grind left a wet streak across her slit, the swollen tips of your clits colliding with sharp, needy bumps that sent sparks racing hot and fast through your stomach. The heavy layers of your gown fell around you in a tangled curtain, muffling the faint squeak of the vanity against the floor. But nothing could hide the filthier sound—the shameless, lewd squelch of your pussies kissing over and over, each sloppy smack echoing in the small bridal suite until it felt deafening.

Yuki pressed her forehead to yours, sweat shining through her makeup. “Cum on me. Right here. On your wedding day. Let him smell my pussy on you while he says his vows”.

Her hips snapped faster, movements messy and desperate, the rhythm breaking into frantic jerks that left your body trembling helplessly against hers. The tension in your stomach coiled tight, then tore apart all at once—the climax ripping through you so intensely it stole the breath from your lungs. Your cunt convulsed against hers in desperate pulses, slick gushing hot between you and spilling down both your thighs. Yuki followed almost instantly, a sharp, fucked out moan tearing from her throat as she grounds harder, riding the spasms out until her own body shuddered. The two of you clung together, panting and dripping, leaving a dark, glistening stain spreading into the carpet beneath your feet.

After she fixed her dress like nothing happened, licking your taste off her fingers.

“Go on, bride,” she teased, while winking at you. “Hope he doesn’t notice you already fucked yourself out before the ceremony”.

*****************************************************************

BONUS - Post-wedding headcanons :3

cw - she’s literally crazy, piss kink in one of them, some ass play bc she has a nice ass duh.

— While you’re seated next to your new husband at the family dinner, Yuki texts you under the table. You sneak a glance and nearly choke on champagne: a close-up of her ass spread wide from behind, two fingers knuckles deep in her pretty cunt with strings of fresh slick steeping between her finger, captioned “Don’t you miss this already? Bet you taste my horny pussy on your tongue still”. She must’ve took it after your scissoring session earlier. You squirm in your gown while she smirks from across the table, knowing exactly what she’s doing to you.

— While you’re trying to play the role of blushing newlywed, your phone buzzes. It’s a short clip: Yuki on your bed at the hotel, straddling a pillow and smearing her leaky pussy and ass against the fabric while her thighs straddle it, moaning, “This is your pillow, baby. Hope your hubby likes the smell of my pussy when you get home”. The camera pans down to show the dark, wet patch spreading across the fabric beneath her ass.

— On your first dinner date as a married couple, Yuki sends a photo that nearly makes you drop your fork on the floor: her butt is pressed against a mirror, cheeks spread open from the angle so her asshole is puckering right at the lens. The message reads: “Mmm every time time you kiss him, just remember my asshole kissed you back first”. You can’t even look your husband in the eye without feeling your panties soak.

— Sometimes she calls when she knows you’re not alone. Her voice is steady at first, then breaks into needy moans as you realize she’s touching herself while furiously bouncing on a dildo on speaker. “Guess what I’m sitting on, bestie. Wish it was your face, huh? Bet you’re dripping just hearing me fucking myself”. You had to excuse yourself, heart pounding in your chest, while she laughs breathlessly into the phone.

— You’re out running errands with your husband when a video arrives: her ass is arched in the air, her addictive holes on full display, and her middle finger is teasingly circling her starry asshole while it flutters on the pad of her finger. The text: “This is where your tongue belongs. Don’t forget it”.

— Even when you’re at a family service, she won’t stop. A video comes through of her bouncing sloppily on a pink dildo on the couch, juices clinging between her thighs while thick rings of cream smear on the base of the veiny dildo, her voice taunting: “Pray for forgiveness. You’ll need it after this”. While delivering hard slaps on both of her jiggling asscheeks.

— Surrounded by people outside, you nearly choke on a drink when a clip comes in of Yuki squatting over her phone, pissing down her thighs before rubbing it into her slit with a moan. Text: “Still want a taste?”.

— You’re mid-conversation at brunch when your phone buzzes. Yuki’s filming herself on the counter, legs spread to her tits while she’s slapping her squirting pussy until it gushes slick down her twitching asshole and onto the counter. Caption: “Wish your tongue was catching this mess :(”.

— Your phone lights up with ten photos in a row: close-ups of her cute asshole, her horny pussy stretched around her lengthy fingers while she humps a pillow and rubs herself everywhere. The last shot is her licking her fingers clean, text overlaid: “Mine, not his”.

— During a meeting, your phone vibrates with a picture of her lying on the floor, ass in the air, a toy buried deep in her pussy. The caption just says: “I should be under your tongue, not this toy. Quit pretending you’re not thinking about me”.

— In the end, it didn’t even take a week after your wedding before you found yourself back in her hotel room, flat on your back with her straddling your face. She’s shaking her ass above you, smearing your lips and chin with the slick dripping freely from her excited pussy. You happily lapped at her greedily, tongue plunging into every gush of her juices, your groans muffled against her heat. Your eyes rolled back at the taste, overwhelmed by the wet, sweet mess of her, while her tight little asshole twitched insistently against the tip of your nose with every rock of her hips. “Mmm, that’s it. Gosh you’re such a pathetic slut, cheating on your husband just so you can slobber on my pussy, and rub your nose on my ass”.

[holeforzenin-deactivated2026032]

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ GRIMY OLD MAN TOJI<3

Tw- honestly don’t read this unless you’re weird af. Toji’s a PERV. Somno, daddy kink, light anal play, squirting, not proofread one bit.

Grimy old man Toji! who’s cock immediately starts twitching in his pants with sheer excitement when you disclosed to him that you’re still a virgin and wasn't very experienced in the sex department on your first date.

As the words left your mouth, Toji's weathered face lit up with a lecherous grin. His jaded eyes narrowed, revealing hunger as it slowly roamed over the smooth valley of your exposed tits. he already knows he’s going to have so much fun with you. "Well, ain't that a treat" he rasped, his voice gravelly and filled with intent. "Don't worry doll, I'll take good care of ya, I can even teach you a thing or two".

Grimy old man Toji! who’s sickly infatuated with the relatively noticeable size difference between the two of you. The way your big, beautiful eyes peer up at him while his massive frame is towering over your smaller figure— a lustful glint floating in your eyes as you stared up at the older man, fully paying attention to the words coming out his mouth like a good girl while he spoke to you.

You look so cute and innocent, he’d be lying if he says he can’t make out the dark red hearts gleaming in your eyes. it makes him want to slap his leaky cock across your face and watch as his pearlescent pre-cum drips and moistens your soft skin.

Grimy old man Toji! who loves rubbing your sticky pussy while you’re peacefully sleeping next to him at night— he lowly chuckles to himself when he hears the adorable, involuntary whimpers that escape your rosy lips as your face scrunches into unbidden pleasure from his touch. He fucking loves how sensitive and delicate you are. His gnarled fingers, rough from years of labor, glided smoothly over your soft thighs to softly pinch your messy folds.

Your pink, dainty panties are slightly pulled down to your upper thigh, allowing him to gain more access to your sex as his lengthy fingers trace teasing circles on your sensitive clit— being so careful he doesn’t wake you up or he’d just might have to fuck you back to sleep and he wouldn’t want to ruin his poor girl’s sleeping schedule. His breath heavy with anticipation fogged the air as he leaned closer, his piercing eyes fixated on the moistening bud between your legs. So pretty.

Grimy old man Toji! who shamelessly stares at your round ass any graceful chance he gets— As soon as you get up to go somewhere or grab anything, his eyes quickly leaves the television and zero in on the subtle sway of your ass like a damn vulture. watching how the chubby flesh bounces as you walk away. His wet tongue immediately dragging over his lips and licking his faded scar, hungrily.

His perverted cock instantly stifled at the alluring sight as he imagines his rough hands forcefully gripping your hips still and rubbing his aching dick between your supple cheeks and watches as it disappears between them.

Grimy old man Toji! who has a interesting habit of stuffing his face into your sloppy pussy while you’re lying on your stomach, engrossed in a book. His face is buried between your butt, his nose digging between your creamy folds as he desperately stiffs your drooling cunt like some gross pervert. Both of his hands are caressing the curves of your ass— spreading it apart even more so he can smell better.

When he’s done with your pussy, he quickly shifts his focus to your small puckering hole. Toji’s a fair man so it would be both disrespectful and unfortunate to leave any of his girl’s pretty holes neglected. Especially with how preciously the little hole was winking up at him while he was teasing your pussy— clearly longing for some attention as well.

When his grizzled fingers found their way to your tight, untouched entrance, he couldn't help but cooed at the way the hole clenched at his touch. With taunting slowness, he circled the rim, teasing it with the pad of his thumb, making it flutter and yearn for more. A loud husky laugh escapes his lips when he spots how much your cunt is gushing out more juices from his lewd action. "You're a dirty slut baby, did me playing with your little ass get you this wet?" he chuckles, licking his lips. “Yer so filthy for enjoying this”.

Grimy old man Toji! with his strong, sturdied hands and teasing smirk has a “peculiar” way of showing affection— he loves lifting you onto his lap, making sure to place you down directly on his hard, veiny erection so your warm pussy is nestled right on top of the clothed bulge. His angry tip nudges between your slicked folds, parting them and making you feel as if you were sitting on a hard bump.

His calloused hands are firmly gripping your waist, holding you down so you don’t try to get off of him. Soon enough it'll get way too hard to ignore it when he starts grinding your clothed core on the huge, tented bulge for friction.

Grimy old man Toji! who convinces you to wear a jeweled plug while the two of you were invited to his clan’s meeting. He’s sitting in the chair next to you with a sprawling manspread to cover up the traces of his aroused cock, his hand shamelessly buried under your kimono. Long, skilled fingers swiftly toyed with the pink-heart indent of the plug that’s warmly nestled in your asshole. He loves tugging on it harshly when you're least expecting, your soft, adorable mewls only fueling him and sending more blood rushing to his length.

He wiggles the plug inside of you, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips as he watches your feeble attempts to hide your sinful expressions. The coolness of the metal grazes against the tight walls of your core with each deliberate motion he makes. Who knows maybe he’ll make some fuck ass excuse to go to the bathroom and replace the plug with his fat cock, filling up the cute little gape.

Grimy old man Toji! who's soo obsessed with making your frothy cunny squirt all over his cock while he’s mindlessly drilling your stupid brains out in full Nelson — yes, of course he knew he always does an amazing job at pounding you into a mindless little slut everytime he dicks you down but having you make a filthy mess with your pussy straying out liquid like a water fountain all over his balls and thighs— soaking his whole mattress was the sweet cherry on top.

He lets out a deep, sultry snicker when he hears how disgustingly sopping your little pussy is for him as he’s cramming his entire length into the tight space— his sharp mushroom tip repeatedly bopping against your musty g-spot with every fast thrust of his hips into of you. Every prominent vein on his rigid length glides along your inner walls, eliciting a sensation so intense that your entire body quivers and your toes curl inside of your patterned socks.

His fingers are deeply ensnared in the soft flesh of your thighs, his grip possessive as he restrained them against the rhythmic movements of your bouncing breasts while he thrust into you with the unrelenting force of a madman from underneath. His larger frame effortlessly carried your weight, making your mind hazy from Toji‘s unbelievably powerful strength. The furrow of your brow and the tears welling in your eyes were like a literal testament to the overwhelming sensation of how hard and mercilessly he was invading your tender pussy. He truly has no pity.

But no matter what, your pussy couldn’t stop leaking all over the poor man’s cock. A rich, creamy mess coated every inch of his pulsating shaft as his muscular thighs trembled. The loud, nasty squelching echoed loudly, making your face red— knowing exactly what was to come.

“Come on girl, squirt on my fucking cock. I know you can do it” he urged with a loud groan at the tight squeeze of your compressed walls around him from his orders. He knows exactly how much you enjoy it when he tells you what to do and luckily for you, he sooo happens to be bossy as well. “Make a mess for Daddy, come onn you can do it baby”.

He plants a gentle kiss on your shoulder blade before anchoring his heels stiffly against the mattress. With a precise movement, he lifted you slightly, adjusting the angle to hit your sweet spot even better. Your back arches against his abs instinctively, pressing your chest forward. “S’close daddy, m’so close!” You cried out, your pulsating hole fluttering around his shaft uncontrollably, desperate to drain his heavy-filled balls.

"That’s it, you’re so fucking wet f’me. Leaking like a nasty fucking slut” he growled in a tone filled with desire, causing his voice to sound hoarse. “Let it go, need ya to squirt like a fucking fountain all over me, ya hear me?”

His cock was throbbing like crazy, veins bulging, the head swollen with blood. Your moans turn into desperate pleas as you clawed at his beefy forearm.

His thrusts are so deep and unforgiving. You can feel the tip pounding against your cervix as he ravages your poor little cunt like a feral beast. Toji never holds back when he fucks you— the thing is he fucking can’t. Not when your pussy is this warm and heavenly, it makes him lose his mind and control the literal second his swollen tip breaches into your slicked entrance.

Your breathing quickly turns into puffs of air, tongue lolling out from your gaping mouth. “Oh fuckkk—“.

You were seeing white at this point. The pressure quickly tightened in your stomach, feeling a million more times intense than it normally felt. Your body jolts on top of his from the foreign sensation, so overwhelmed that you didn’t notice the muscular hand that snaked its way to your clit, frantically rubbing the pulsating bud as your whole body tenses, and your vision blurs white. You cry into the late night as the wash of pleasure crashes throughout your being; it has a rush you’ve never felt before but it leaves you utterly gratified. 

“D-daddy m’gonna– Ohh!” you whine and babble, your clouded mind makes it so hard to form any complete and coherent sentences anymore from the intense pleasure.

“Fuckfuckfuck that’s it, thatsss it”. He grunted, biting his bottom lip enough to make it bleed as his cock twitches at the sight of you squirting in front of him, the translucent liquid spurting all over the place and coating his thick shaft and body as your pussy fluttered around him over and over.

“Atta girl, Atttaa girl. God, this pussy is so fucking slutty, was made just f'me, wasn't she baby?" he purrs into your ear, praising you and attempting to calm you down while he helps you ride out your high. His relentless hips never stop rutting inside of you, trying to savor the mess as much as possible. It was so overstimulating, your whole head goes blurry from everything. His long fingers still abusing your clit, making your whole body shake on top of his.

“Toji— fuck! s’much stopstop fuck!” You cried out, your sharp nails violently sinking into his beefy forearm of the fingers that are assaulting your sensitive clit— definitely leaving more nasty scars.

“Shh shh baby, don’t be a greedy girl. Daddy has to cum too”.