mei

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[tonycries]

Super(girl) Trouper - N.K.

Synopsis. It’s a bird! It’s a plane! Look up out—it’s Supergirl. The villains fear you. The headlines hate you. The Justice League doesn’t understand you. And no one cares except for perhaps…Nanami Kento from the investigative journalism department. Tall. Blond. And sweeter than the world’s most potent aphrodisiac. But he doesn’t know that. The problem is that the villains now do.

Pairing. Nanami Kento x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem!Supergirl!reader, journalist!Nanami, DC AU, Supergirl AU, he’s Iowk like genderbent Lois Lane, nerdy Nanami, journaIism, headIines, inhibitions, you’re hated by the pubIic, but he Ioves you, saving people, saving the worId, more about finding yourself acc, miId vioIence, feeIings, aphrodisíacs, Nanami is PÚSSYDRUNK, hand j’s, oraI (fem rec.), fíngering, spítting, x-ray vision, heat vision, YOUR powers, manhandIing, matíng presses, he’s FÉRAL, he’s big, making it fit, tummy buIges, pressing down on it, cervíx smooches, struggling to take it, making HIM break, creampíes, s with feeIings, confessions, getting together, happy ending, Kenjaku mentions, Nanami with glasses, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 13.7k

A/N. Haven’t watched the new Supergirl movie yetttt but I just KNEW I had to do an AU.

MEET THE NEW GIRL IN SPACE!

SUPERGIRL: THREE A-LIST VILLAINS AND THEIR HENCHMEN DOWN IN SHINJUKU TRAIN FIGHT. DESTRUCTION PRICELESS—!

SUPERGIRL FLIPS OFF THE JUSTICE LEAGUE MID-AIR?! TAKES DOWN THEIR VILLAIN FIRST. ACCUSED OF STEALING THE SPOTLIGHT?

SUPERGIRL HANGS ZENIN CONGLOMERATE HEIR—ZENIN NAOYA—BY HIS SHOELACES FROM TOKYO TOWER! CITES ‘CHAUVINISM’ (EXCLUSIVE)

SUPERGIRL—THE NEW FACE OF HEROES OR A DARK TURN FOR JUSTICE?

That last particular headline makes you scoff.

Your eyes are darting to the byline; and immediately afterwards they’re on the verge of rolling. Who else would write such a rag of an article but Usami from the sports journalism department? And it’s not like Supergirl even had anything to do with the latest football scores or which manager had been sacked recently.

But you suppose everybody wanted a piece of you now.

“It’s rotten, isn’t it?” A voice trundles behind you—low and lightly husked. “They beg for a saviour, but in the face of one it’s revealed that what they really want is perfection. But with everyone’s definition of perfection being different…”

Nanami Kento.

“-isn’t what they really want just conforming to their mold?”

You’re turning around. 

A faint smile on your lips. “Then what can we do about all the different molds?”

Nanami nods. “No one person is correct. It’ll never be good enough.” He lets out a soft sigh before pushing up his gold-rimmed glasses; they were a delicate kind that seemed to have a faint glow whenever they caught the light filtering in from Tokyo’s busy morning. Perfectly paired against Nanami’s handsome face—in the sort of classical, movie-star manner that might have caused him to be hung up on posters in teenage bedrooms or emblazoned outside of theatres.

Or so you’ve heard human customs tend to do so.

And yet, here Nanami Kento was: standing in a cream-colored suit with ink smudges on his fingertips. It often surprised you how a perfect Earthling like this was simply tucked-away in a little cubicle at Daily Planet Newspaper.

You certainly have never seen another like so.

But you got to see his face everyday—so you weren’t exactly complaining.

Nanami’s eyes drop at the growing smile on your face, and he pushes up a strand of golden-blond hair. That was just about as mussed-up as that perfectly slicked hairstyle of his would ever become. “Apologies. It’s just- it really bothers me to see the shit being written about Supergirl with no basis. Especially in respectable newspapers.”

“Well, it is the gossip column.”

“The sports section?”

“Same thing.” It was all human mish-mash to you either way. Beside him, the corner of Nanami’s lips give the faintest twitch. You’re flipping through the latest print of Daily Planet to another page; this time one with your (Supergirl’s) face plastered centrespread. Mid-air and your red cape flying behind you. It’s been only a few years since you’d landed on Earth after the destruction of Krypton. Then only a few weeks since you’d debuted as a superhero: stealing the spotlight from Green Lantern and the rest of the Justice League as you swooped in and defeated Metallo. 

Ever since then it’d been an explosion of newspaper headlines and television shows and even sketches; both good and bad. Mostly bad. You weren’t sure what got you off to the wrong foot. Maybe it was the uniform that too-closely resembled Superman’s? Maybe it was the crude words you’d spit out at villains mid-fight? Maybe it was that one time you flipped off the Justice League for being too late to the fight? 

In your defense, you thought Earthlings said something about early birds getting the villains?

And maybe all those were correct.

But whatever it was—they would tear you apart. Then piece you back. Then tear you apart again. You weren’t the family-friendly image of a superhero that most were; and it made something at the pit of your stomach feel saturated and dark and useless to have to edit such articles time and time again. To have to write them yourself, if you wanted to get approved by your higher-ups.

Perhaps that was a part of human culture?

Fuck those windbags either way.

You didn’t understand how any other hero did it - then again it wasn’t as if you could easily ask them. You weren’t an official part of the Justice League—and you didn’t see yourself getting welcomed with open arms anytime soon. So you hid yourself away and semi-hypnotized those at your workplace to see a forgettable face whenever they looked at you - not Supergirl—even so, it was brittle at best. 

Kryptonian hypnosis wasn’t as powerful as Martians. What you could merely do was suggest. “So- you don’t think Supergirl’s too crass?”

Nanami looks up, brows somewhat furrowed. “I quite frankly don’t think it matters. Who am I to judge?”

“Oh yeah? What about too destructive? Too disrespectful of the Justice League?”

“Again, who am I to judge?” Now, Nanami’s taking a seat—his desk was opposite yours, your backs to one another as you tap-tap-tapped away at new articles everyday. “Maybe she could do with a little less destruction of public infrastructure and that’s fine, but if she’s too crass then she’s too crass. That’s just her. Just as I’m not forced to like it—it’s silly to expect every superhero to conform to the ideal. Not one person nor mold is completely correct.”

From his seat, he tips his head up and looks at your standing self.

“But, personally, I wasn’t the biggest fan of Green Lantern in the first place.”

This time, it’s your turn to attempt to keep a too-big smile off your face. 

You give him a pointed look. “I dunno. I heard she steals candy from babies—says so on Page 9.”

“Ridiculous.” Nanami cocks his head and beckons for the newspaper from you; after you hand it to him he flips through to that very page and scans it. “And precisely without proof. This is why I’ve been investigating Supergirl, beyond what these pages or secret sources say—”

From where you were, you could hear Usami loudly bragging to his colleagues a few desks over about the ‘exclusive source’ that gave him that little tidbit of information. You wanted to roll your eyes again.

“-and I’ve been working on something.”

“What is it?” You lean over to look as Nanami unlocks one of his desk drawers and pulls out a thick file. Unmarked. Your heart leaps to your throat as he sweeps it open to reveal pages upon pages of…pictures of you.

Not you—

—but you as Supergirl.

You mid-flight amongst thunderclouds. You amongst rubble. You pushing a kid behind you in order to shield him from a villain. You with your face twisted in fury as you’re pummeling that very same villain with a ferociousness that scared most - even civilians.

Which explained the headlines.

You skulking off into an alleyway before the medics and police could arrive, as you always did.

You. You. You. You. You.

And around them were notes scribbled in Nanami’s own neat hand.

Hero analysis:

Best skills: Superhuman strength, superhuman speed (comparable to that of the Flash), heat vision, physiological control, martial arts (see more on…)

Costume is that of similar style of Superman however with the added adaptabilities of…(sketch on back)

—one of the strongest debuts of any superhero in history. The supervillain Metallo has been terrorizing—

—though at odd relations with the Justice League, it seems that clashes over justice enactment—

—train—

—the greatest—

Female. 20’s to 30’s. Features may be changeable with Kryptonian powers (follow up with…). Suspected resident in Tokyo—concentration of fights here; in close contact with the Justice League who has headquarters here in Tokyo. Furthermore, seems familiar with the alleyways for her ‘disappearing act’ (for more thorough analysis see more on…) and mapping (more on…) has revealed that Supergirl tends to head in the wider direction of—Kabukicho. 

(Follow up).

Your eyes widen.

Fuck.

You have to change up the bars you hit after fights.

And just when you think your heart can’t leap any higher; he flips through a few more pages and stops on one particular piece of evidence - the biggest of them all - a frontpage newspaper clipping of you…and him. Nanami all dust-covered and dishevelled, bleeding from a cut on his forehead, as you threw his arm over your shoulders and helped him out of Tokyo Downtown Bakery. You had your face twisted in fury, and Nanami…you never noticed it before, but Nanami was looking at you like you were the Sun.

The fight had happened just last week: you’d been heading home after work when your superhearing told you something was off. An explosion downtown. 

Tokyo Downtown Bakery was a favorite of gods, mutants, aliens, and other non-humans alike. Known for it, in fact. And there was only one villain you could think of that wanted to take down such non-humans—Kenjaku.

You’d zipped there as fast as your flight could take you, and only once you were there had you heard a familiar heartbeat. More frantic now, of course. But familiar.

Nanami was trapped underneath the rubble.

Kenjaku saw your momentary distraction - the realization that made your blood grow cold - and had taken the chance to disappear into the shadows. 

After making sure that every other customer and employee didn’t have to be flown to the hospital urgently, you dropped onto your knees in front of the mountain of rubble and dug and dug. And dug. And dug. You dug until you felt the control over your physiology slipping, and small cuts started to apply at your fingertips—healing over instantly. Then getting ripped open all over as you just kept- on- digging.

In reality it must have been less than five or ten minutes, but it felt like months, before you finally flung away the last block of debris from a soft body. And Nanami Kento stirred.

That was what had resulted in the photograph, and the headlines that followed.

SUPERGIRL A WEEK INTO SUPERHEROISM AND ALREADY LETTING VILLAINS ESCAPE?

SUPERGIRL PAUSES FIGHT FOR BREAK?! MORE LIKE LAZYGIRL (Exclusive)

SUPERGIRL SAVES THE DAY AGAIN—BUT WHAT ABOUT THE INFRASTRUCTURE?

SUPERGIRL SAVES RUBBLE-TRAPPED CIVILIANS: “I owe her my life.” 

That last one boasted the picture. And the byline of Nanami Kento. 

You try to control your breathing.

“Ever since she saved me, I’ve been trying to understand Supergirl better. That fury on her face…I’ve been trying to figure out who she is-”

“To…expose her?”

“No.” Nanami shakes his head. The both of you were breathless - though for very different reasons. Excitement practically makes him glow, “To maybe try and interview her- personally. I want to see what she’s like beyond all those cashgrab headlines and the rumors. And…” 

You’re silent as he pauses.

“-and I want to thank her personally.” So soft.

“Oh.” Your voice sounds small. Smaller than you’ve ever heard it. 

 He’s then closing his file and looking up at you so sweetly—“And if you’re interested, then maybe we could work together on it? I actually got a tip that I’m about to go do some field work on right now.” A sudden burst of shyness makes Nanami’s cheekbones burn a pretty rouge as you stare at him intensely. That was one thing you loved about humans - immense control over your physiology meant Kryptonians couldn’t blush unless you made yourselves. Humans couldn’t control when they blushed and it was just the sweetest thing to you. Was Nanami’s heartbeat picking up? “That is…if you would like to? I know you likely have better articles to work on, but just in case…”

He trails off and you’re trailing behind your head and your heart.

Your heart that wanted you to say yes.

Your head that made you say—

“I’m sorry.” You feel your heart fall. There’s a simmering of anger at yourself; soothed partially by the understanding that the more time you spent with Nanami…the higher the chance was of him finding out who you were. There were countless people out to get you: villains, henchmen, reporters. And the second-best thing to getting you was getting someone you cared for that knew you. About you. 

The only powerless humans that knew about you were Clark’s- Superman’s adoptive parents. 

And whatever misery that might put you in - you’d take it twofold if it meant keeping one more normal Earthling like Nanami safe. You’re taking a step back and giving him a sheepish smile. “It’s just I have this really ah- riveting story to write about the erm- tax refunds and the economic implications of Supergirl’s last fight and…”

“Oh!” Nanami nods fervently, pushing his glasses up. Embarrassment radiated off of him like a miniature Sun, and you wanted nothing more than to reach out and tell him this was on you. But alas. “Oh, right, of course- I wish you luck with that.”

“Thank you.” You smile, lips pressed together to prevent a sigh. “I’m going to need it.”

“A journalist like you? Not in the least.”

With a nod of graciousness, you’re just about to leave Nanami’s table and pretend that the latter half of this interaction perhaps never happened. You almost wished Kryptonians had the ability to hypnotize themselves as they could to others. And you’re considering a much more interesting article about that before you’re stopping in your tracks and half-glancing at Nanami over your shoulder. 

He was hard at work gathering his things for what you assume to be the extra field work regarding his Supergirl article.

You feel your heart clench.

“Nanami?”

He looks up eagerly. “Yes?”

Your words are slightly less than steady once you speak again. “If- when you discover Supergirl’s identity…you might be…disappointed. They say she’s nothing like Superman.”

“She doesn’t have to be.”

As Nanami throws his messenger bag over his shoulder and stands to leave—“I’ll see you tomorrow, my darling.” But he calls everyone that, doesn’t he?

“And I’ll…be working late.”

“Be careful not to miss your train.”

You don’t look at him until the very last second. When his tall frame is ducking beneath the doorway to the Daily Planet journalism department; cream-colored suit and golden glasses; old movie star looks drawing eyes, but not too close so he’ll never know that you stared at him from afar. Never.

You sink into your chair.

“What was that about?”

Had your superhuman senses not told you about Shoko’s nearing presence, you would have been startled. But you’re throwing in a slight jump just for the sake of it.

“Oh- come on.” Shoko says with a roguish grin. There was a slender cigarette tucked between her index and her middle finger; as was wont to have if one was Ieiri Shoko. You honestly don’t think you’ve ever seen her without one. “Not dramatic enough. Next time try throwing in a little gasp there.”

It seems that you still had work to do on your human reactions…“What have I told you about the cigarette smell getting on the papers?” You grimace at her - this particular human pleasure was especially sensitive to your nose.

“Can’t remember.” She replies, blowing out her last puff of smoke.

Shoko was perhaps your one exception to humans not knowing about your true identity—for the sole fact that she wasn’t your average human. Smooth. Silent. And stupidly intelligent - Shoko was perhaps the best investigative journalist Tokyo had to offer.

Which was to be expected, of course, given that she was the protégé of The Question.

A normal human journalist—just with enough combat skill and power to get him inducted into the Justice League. The Question had been a master in hand-to-hand combat even amongst the most trained superheroes; which paired well with the depth of investigative journalism that he would do. He exposed criminal underworlds that led to likely half the lodgers at Tokyo Island Penitentiary. 

When you’d been reading up on the superheroes of Earth - both current and inactive - it was his sheer heroism as a mere human that’d inspired you to become a journalist as well.

The Question had hand-picked Shoko as his successor—and for good reason. After his passing due to old age, Shoko quickly proved herself to be a master with the pen; she cracked her ink like a whip. Just last week, she’d exposed that damned Lex Luthor’s embezzling which at least got him out of Superman’s hair for some time. And despite the publicity of the event, the covert nature of her heroism meant she didn’t have to deal with the constant headlines.

Shoko was no different than those at the Justice League. Than you.

But she was an enigma.

So you couldn’t have asked for anyone better to have walked in on you hurriedly changing into your supersuit in the cramped cubicle bathrooms at the Daily Planet - there was a train about to go off-course a few thousand kilometers away - than Shoko.

“Oh.” You remember it like it was yesterday. The door had swung open as you had one foot into the suit. “The lock’s broken.” She’d said.

“Uh…occupied?” You’d murmured then, in a voice higher-pitched than usual. You considered hypnotizing her twofold- no wait, there was some power to do with amnesia even though you weren’t sure whether it would be—

“I know what you’re thinking.” Shoko had smiled then. “And don’t you dare try - not because I’d say anything, but because the Justice League’s paperwork is a pain in the ass when you try to fight another superhero.”

Your jaw had dropped. “Another…?” You’d shove that paperwork up their asses- but another superhero?

“Haven’t guessed it already?” Shoko shoved a hand into her long jacket, pulling out a square piece of what almost looked like rubber. It was in the exact shade as her skin tone, and when she placed it over her face—

“Featureless.” You’d gasped. Pseudoderm. “Just like The Question.”

“Flattered you know us, Supergirl.”

But there was no more time for chit-chat—that train you’d been hearing was dangerously close to going off-tracks now, and you’d hastily begun stuffing yourself into your supersuit. To which Shoko hadn’t flinched - instead appraising you curiously. “Why don’t you just wear that underneath your suit?”

“Because…” Because you were too afraid of someone sneaking a peak at the suit underneath. Because you were too afraid of being Supergirl when you were your ‘human’ self—hated. At least as a human you weren’t hated. Because you were too afraid of walking around as two halves making up one whole, when one half was all you needed at a time to feel content.

Ultimately you settled for not saying anything at all. “Listen- please don’t-”

“Yeah, yeah- I’ve already been through this song and dance.” She waved you off absent-mindedly. “Don’t reveal your secret identity to anyone. Don’t make it obvious when you’re off saving the world.”

You felt a smile come to your face at those last few words.

“You don’t think I’m…ruining justice instead?” A rush of embarrassment ran through you for even asking.

But Shoko merely cocked her silky head. “Hah, no? And who cares what the Justice League thinks? Now go do superhero things, superhero.”

The train and its passengers were saved in record time that day. And just like she’d said, Shoko hadn’t spilled a word.

Though for all the secrets she kept- she did love hearing them.

“So…” She relights her cigarette. “Did Nanami finally ask you out and you rejected him?”

“What-” You’re turning to her with a yelp. “He did not—” She takes the moment to blow a cloud of smoke at your papers, and you’re snatching the cigarette from between her lips and snuffing it out on one of your ceramic desk decorations. 

“Hey…” Shoko whines.

Finally you’re whispering to her in a low tone - “He did not ask me out. And I did not reject him.”

“Then why’d he leave all sad and puppy-eyed?”

You’re turning around—almost as if expecting Nanami there still. “He didn’t…did he?”

“Maybe. I didn’t see. But you looked, didn’t you?” Chuckling. The Question takes the cigarette back from you, and holds it out of your reach.

“That was only because you-” You find that you don’t quite have much to say - at least not something that Shoko would pay heed to. And so you’re settling for a few grumbled curses—“No. He just asked me to be part of one of his articles.”

Shoko looks up in interest. “Oh? About what?”

“Supergirl.” You cross your arms. “He said he wanted to figure out who she was so he could interview her- I said no, of course.”

Shoko - who’d now newly relit her cigarette - takes a long drag and lets it free into the air. “Why?”

“What?”

“Why’d you say no?”

You take her cigarette and put it out again. “Because the more time I spend with him, the more likely he is to…find out. And with everything going on, I can’t risk putting him in danger.”

“Hm…” Shoko thinks for some time. “Putting him in danger? Or putting his image of you in danger?” She stares at you intently. “Are you really afraid that he’s going to be captured by villains you’ve been defeating time and time again these past few weeks? Maybe.” Then she’s gently tugging the cigarette from between your fingertips - to light it again. A final time. “Or are you more afraid that once he finds out who you truly are- he’s going to be just like the rest of them?”

You don’t bother reaching for the cigarette anymore. “I…”

But Shoko wasn’t done just yet. She blows her smoke into the air and lets it linger. “It’s just like these papers and this smoke. When the nicotine sticks to them, it’s invisible but it’s there—even if you don’t like it. But that doesn’t change its contents. Nor does that make it any less worthy than any other article here.”

You crinkle your nose. “But others won’t like it either.”

“So fuck them.” She stands. “It’s gonna be printed into a damn article, it doesn’t need to smell like rainbows and roses. No two newspapers are printed the same.”

And with that said, Shoko striding off. Cigarette and all.

And you’re left staring at a blank paper—ready for typing.

.

.

.

Nanami Kento had never quite been to this area of Tokyo.

It was one of the seedier places; an amalgamation of everything your mother advises you against. Past the bars and the spas, past the graffiti-tattooed walls and the alleyways that seemed to stretch into darkness endlessly. Past men slouched on roads - drunk or dead. Past the rattle of trains in the distance and rats who chittered at the only abode they truly ruled. Where even those cowered standing next to—and one goes to share the same fear doused upon this neighborhood, doled, perhaps to replace that of their own.

Then again, there was a strange beauty in it itself - like a giant wound mending itself.

There was a stun gun in his pocket. He wondered what this place would look like in daylight. 

He ignored the knot in his throat as he kept on walking.

It wasn’t the place you’d expect to find a superhero - then again, Supergirl didn’t listen to anyone’s expectations of her. 

Often after fights, he’d see you disappearing into the shadows of a building or a lone alleyway such as these. As if never there. You didn’t wait around for any authorities or paparazzi. And it was only after weeks of investigation that he’d managed to narrow it down to one district that you were frequenting: Kabukicho. 

Even afterwards, he’d quickly learned that it wasn’t simply the entertainment district that you were fond of.

You were fond of hiding.

Asking around for sightings of a person of your description took Nanami meters away from actual Kabukicho, and down narrow alleys and underground streets. Into clubs and behind hotels. Into the seediest, smallest establishments hadn’t even the faintest waft of a main street. Currently he was heading towards a bar he was directed towards by an anonymous tip; the tip had said that you came here at least once a week or so. Sometimes not even to drink - just to people-watch.

And if Nanami Kento knew anything about you: it was that you found humans fascinating.

He’d seen it after fights, when you’d watch families rush to one another and embrace. He’d seen it even during fights, as you analyzed villains that were easy prey.

And he wondered…did you find humans interesting as much as they found you? Or at least, he did. 

It’s after a few minutes of walking down this small street, lit only by the angry neon signs of underground clubs, that he stops before a squat bat. THE CHAMELEON—the sign said.

He pats the stun gun in his pocket. 

And with a deep breath, he’s walking in.

The stench of liquor dances a frenzied waltz with cigarettes; it reaches his nose though he doesn’t cringe as he weaves between closely-pressed tables. Patrons hunched over nursing their columns of glasses look up at him suspiciously as he walks past them. He knew he should have changed out of his cream-colored suit. 

It was barely visible in the bar, due to the faint light buzzing solely from a few spots on the ceiling, surrounded by wine-drunk flies, but Nanami managed to sit himself down at the counter. A bartender with long greyish-blue hair wiping greasy glasses with an even greasier rag looks up at him.

“Ah…” Nanami’s eyes fall to the glass and the rag - he himself was a good drinker, though the establishments he frequented were nothing of this sort. “Just a beer, please.”

The bartender asks, “Mmm, tap?”

“Do you have bottles-”

“No bottles.”

“Then ah- just a water, please.”

“No water either.” He says in a strangely melodic voice, “Just cider. Just cider. Apple, peach, and pear~!”

Nanami looks at the man warily, “Then…a peach cider please.”

The bartender shrugs then takes the rag—blowing his nose into it- before he throws it somewhere over his shoulder and fetches a peach cider for Nanami. It pools condensation onto the counter as it’s set in front of him, but he doesn’t reach for it even a single millimeter.

“What are you trying to find, young man?”

Nanami almost flinches. 

The voice comes from the seat next to him; gruff and gravelly like when one has smoked far too many cigarettes for far too long. As he turns—the man next to him laughs. He had a white, wide-rimmed hat tipped low over his face, and was wearing an equally stark white suit. It was just about the only things he could make of him - nothing of his actual features.

And though Nanami didn’t know the man, he couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of kinship as the two patrons of the bar that didn’t seem like they belonged there.

Despite this, however, this other man’s fingers found a chip in his cider glass with familiarity. 

“There are only two reasons that folks come down to a bar like this: either to lose something—pain, memories, fatigue; or to find something.” He nods his head over at the younger man, but still doesn’t reveal a sliver of a face. “And since you haven’t touched that cider of yours, young man, I’m assuming…”

“Finding something, I suppose.” Almost robotic, Nanami grasps his glass. 

He thinks he sees a flash of a smile from the other man.

Nanami continues, “Maybe you can help me? Would you happen to have seen someone come in tonight-” His heart thunders as he lists off the features written down in that file of his—and the man keeps nodding with each one. “-perhaps around my age, though-”

“So it’s love problems.”

He stops short. “What?”

“Love problems.” That man clucks out a wet laugh, then takes a swig of his cider.

Nanami responds hesitantly. “I’m…afraid you misunderstand. I’m just trying to find-”

“I know perfectly what you mean.” He displays a set of paper-white teeth, gleaming. Reaching into his coat pocket, he slaps something down on the marble counter. “Her, right?”

Nanami peers in and finds it to be a blurry polaroid of you at this very bar, taken like you hadn’t known it was happening. And you weren’t revelling like one would have expected you to after a constant winning streak against villains. You weren’t even lamenting your woes with your fellow bar patrons.

You were just…watching. 

Alone at a booth. Nothing in front of you but a water- perhaps that bartender had lied to him. 

It was a night livelier than this one, evidently, as bachelor celebrations and 21st birthday parties and seemingly drunken singing surrounded you from all angles. But you simply watched. Waited. There was something so sorrowfully beautiful about you that it made Nanami’s heart ache. 

“It’d been my buddy’s divorce party and someone had pulled out the polaroid. He snapped a picture and somehow I just couldn’t find it in myself to part with it…there’s something so haunting about it.”

Nanami merely stares speechlessly, running his finger down the edge of the picture.

“Trying to understand someone is, too, an act of love isn’t it?” The other man says. Before Nanami could respond, he’s polishing off the last few drops of his cider and getting off the chair—he seemed much taller when he was standing. “Come now. This Supergirl of yours is quite the party- after draining The Chameleon she tends to head East towards the Golden Gai. Finish up your cider and then we can go.”

“R-right.” Nanami’s hand almost falls to pat his stun gun reassuringly- but under the man’s scrutiny he reaches for the cider instead. “And sorry- what was your name again Mr…?”

“Come now, come now. We can save the pleasantries for when we walk there, young man.”

“Right.” 

Bringing it up to his lips. 

Almost. “But how did you know I was searching for Super-”

He sighs. “You journalists ask too many questions.”

And with a forceful shove, he’s making Nanami chug down the cider - blood and peaches coating his tongue. And the sharp shot of something else he couldn’t place. 

“And you can call me Kenjaku, young man.”

And then it’s black.

“I saw the way Supergirl—” Spit. “—looked at you. And I must thank you for leading her to me.”

Kilometers away, you’re in the middle of heading to the train station with Shoko. You’d both gotten off work late and were lamenting what a pain it’d be to get up tomorrow morning—

Your head snaps up.

You’re immediately looking behind you.

“What is it?” Shoko asks with no small sense of emergency.

That gasp. That thud. 

You’ve never heard it; yet you’d recognize it anywhere.

“Something bad has happened.”

.

.

.

Alleyways. Bar. Rats. Love Hotel. Alleyways. Bar. Bar. Alleyways. Alleyways. Alleyways.

Why did you have to go down so many alleyways?

It was a bar that you’d only been to once; the shadows were long and the cider was sweet—but ultimately you’d decided that you didn’t want to return. It was the day after you’d saved Nanami Kento. 

And now you were doing the very same thing.

THE CHAMALEON had wound down for the night by the time that you skidded to a halt before it - with the tar road cratering beneath you as you stopped. There’s a thundering noise that echoes down the gloomy streets of this forgotten part of Kabukicho. You don’t waste a single second longer before kicking the door open and storming inside—

“Ah~ my lovely Supergirl.”

“Kenjaku.” You spit. The bar was empty save for the man seated at the counter - a dark waterfall of hair, darker eyes - and in his hand he held a single glass of what you assumed to be cider. “Where is he-”

“Slow down, my dear.” He croons. “Why don’t you sit back? Have a drink or two? And then maybe we can-”

“Where the fuck is he.”

It happens instantaneously—in a jerky movement you’re picking up an entire table by its leg. Using a mere fraction of your strength, you chuck it at the man - not quite to hit just yet - and it flies past him with naught a hair’s breadth of space between the side of his head and the table. Crashing against the wall of alcohol bottles in the back; liquor and shards of glass explode behind Kenjaku, yet he doesn’t move a single muscle. Not a single muscle.

Not even his lips to speak. 

It infuriates you that he can remain sitting and sipping his cider without a care in the world- and so you’re striding towards him. Though striding was perhaps a kinder word.

Grabbing a bottle off the counter, he breaks its end and attempts to stab you.

You dodge.

He stabs.

You dodge.

He swipes your cheek—

“Motherfucker you better know that I don’t care what you do to me-” Each word leaves you like a dagger. “I don’t care how you hurt me-” And within a few seconds, you’ve closed the gap completely to grip him by the collar and raise Kenjaku a foot off his chair. “But what the fuck have these innocent people ever done to you?”

Suddenly, his eyes go wide and he starts laughing.

And you’re only watching in stunned silence.

You only can watch—Kenjaku laughs long and unabashed, with a strange hitch like a crow’s call - he laughs so hard that he has to wipe away a tear. It sends red-hot fury curdling in your veins.

You reel your fist back.

Tightly-coiled. Trembling with anger.

And you’re just about to swing—

When Kenjaku raises a single finger - the gesture humans often do when asking for a moment of your time - that makes you halt in your tracks. Whatever tricks he had up his sleeve, you didn’t want to risk anything that might put Nanami in danger.

And so you wait.

And you watch.

As Kenjaku’s eyes fall to the glass of cider that had been kept on the counter. He takes it in his hand. He clears his throat, “You should have been here earlier, oh- your little boyfriend was just drinking away his woes. Something about his love being a filthy alien, you see?” Those deep amethyst eyes—they were so dark that they seemed to leave a stain where they then turned to look at you.

You can’t take your eyes off of him - even as you bring your raised punch back and instead grasp Kenjaku’s neck with both hands. If you can’t pummel him to death, you were ready to strangle him.

Your hands tighten.

“O-oh.” Kenjaku’s hands claw down your forearms, but he’s powerless against you. “The truth hurts, doesn’t it?”

They tighten.

“And you already know it’s true, don’t you? You know that deep down—you’re everything they say you are- you’re everything and worse-” They tighten. His skin starts turning blue then purple. “Why else would they hate you so? They know- they know it and you do, too.”

They tighten.

And even though you had the upperhand, seemingly, Kenjaku seems to crane his head down to whisper to you.

“You were nothing. You are nothing. You will always and forevermore be nothing.”

Your breath hitches- and Kenjaku knows he’s got you.

Unbidden from your senses, you’re letting go of him - he stumbles to the ground but manages to catch himself on the bar counter. Throwing an arm over it to steady himself, Kenjaku looks down at his cider glass once more, with only a few drops at the bottom of it.

He throws back those last few ounces and holds the glass out to you- “Be a dear for me, and help your little boyfriend get me another glass, will you? It seems he’s gotten his…hands full.”

Shit.

Shit.

You’re forgetting to even fly down to the bar—you’re breaking off a leg of a nearby stool then bending the metal into something that resembles a handcuff, quickly restraining Kenjaku for the time being before darting downstairs. There was a dingy staircase in the corner of the room, of which the rusty handrailing bends and warps as you grip it with your superhuman strength.

As you do, Kenjaku calls after you…“But do be careful not to miss your train~!”

It doesn’t take long before you find yourself at the bottom of a damp cellar- running to a Nanami Kento who’d been hopelessly bound and gagged. His golden hair falls in front of his face. His skin glistens with sweat.

And as soon as you reach him, you’re noticing the sheer heat that radiates off of him.

It was as if he was on fire—

Was this…?

“Nanami- Kento.” You’re hissing - you don’t need to untie those cloth restraints, you’re tearing straight through them. Removing the fabric gag and cupping his face, you look deep into his eyes. “Kento- oh, are you alright? Speak to me-”

“Go.”

“What-”

“The train.” Tears fell down his handsome cheeks. His bottom lip was trembling as though he was cold - even though he felt like an inferno to the touch. “My darling, don’t worry about me worry about the train-”

You insist. “What about the train, Kento?”

“Kenjaku- fuck, I overheard him telling his henchmen to destruct the Yurikamome line on the Rainbow Bridge- the train is going to go over it any second now—”

Brows furrowing, you focus your supersenses. Hearing. “But that can’t be, I should hear…”

The zooming of a train. The distant rattling of train tracks that sounded different than usual - too different, too distant. 

Then it hits you.

“Kento, while you were here, did you encounter anything…strange?”

He strangles out. “The peach cider he gave me- a-after that I just…”

“I understand.” Your mind was racing a mile a minute—Kento. The train. Kento. The train. Kento. “Kenjaku probably laced it with something to weaken you, and amongst that he must have added…”

Your blood goes cold.

“Hold on tight.” And without another word, you’re scooping the man into your arms - a princess carry. You hold him to you like the most precious thing on Earth and Krypton as you crash! through the top of the cellar—past several stories without a single scratch nor ache. Past bottles of liquor and ceramic tiles. Past layers of concrete and your fear.

Once you’re out into the wild night, you’re taking in incredible lungfuls of crisp air, soothing the burning sensation in your lungs.

You could almost ignore the gasps around you- as people whip out their cameras. This time, you don’t shy from them.

Gently; you’re hovering down to the street below and setting Nanami down. “Are you okay, Kento?”

“Yes- yes.” He’s gasping as he struggles to stand- you’re attempting to help him, only for Nanami to back away as though afraid. Something painful twinges inside you.

And he must see the breaking of your expression - because he’s immediately rushing to answer. “The thing that was in that cider…it was Kryptonite, wasn’t it?” Your silence is enough of an answer. “You have to go.”

You step towards him. “We have to get you to a hospital. The Kryptonite-”

“The train-”

“Just let me-”

“The Kryptonite will poison you before it ever even thinks of poisoning me. Do you really think I’d ever- fucking ever put my life above yours?” Nanami Kento doesn’t exactly yell—but his voice carries to your superhuman senses above anything else. Anything else. “Save the people on the train. Save the world. Save yourself- for everything I love, please please leave me- save them, Supergirl.”

You’re straightening.

“I’ll be back for you, Kento.”

Stumbling back a few steps; you have to shake your head to do away with the fogginess of the Kryptonite.

And then you’re in the air once more.

Wind whipping your face. Cape thrashing behind you.

The clouds stick to your features and form condensation with how fast you’re flying to the train- fuck.

Once you get there, you’re seeing exactly what Nanami had been talking about.

The train track where the Yurikamome Line was going on top of - the lower deck of Rainbow Bridge - was completely obliterated in the middle. Throngs of metal sticking upwards. Train track rattling like a wounded snake. The train was charging full speed ahead, the driverless transit unaware of any anomaly in the track. 

Just enough of a gap that it would prove fatal to the 160,000 passengers aboard. 

Just enough of a gap that you could zip down—as fast as you could go. As low as you could afford. And as fearful as any human would have been in that moment - and just as foolhardy. 

And as the Yurikamome Line heads towards the broken railroad, you’re lifting the train once it passes. The dip in the train track; you’re making up for it with your hands and your shoulders—never letting the Line falter even a single decree—it stretches and stretches and sinks its heavy metal body down onto yours. Rolling over your shoulders. Like nothing you’ve ever felt before- you have to keep your shoulders up. You have to keep your shoulders up. You have to keep your shoulders up. 

Your body was indestructible. But you’re feeling cuts on your palms. But you’re feeling the strain on your core and your deltoids.

Every single axiom in your body was screaming—

Towards the middle mark of the Yurikamome Line, you feel a dip- fuck.

Gritting your teeth, you let out a clenched groan as you push the train up. From inside you can hear passengers scream. And from the horizon, you can hear news helicopters thundering.

Please.

A tear runs down your cheek. You struggle to move. 

Please. Please. Please.

You’re pushing the train upwards with all your might. 

Humanity above, only you know how strong you can be. 

Be strong.

.

.

.

Birds are twittering.

You would have assumed that the afterlife had no shortage of birds, too; but it’s a bit odd to you that they’re singing a tune so jolly.

Personally, since you were dead, you’d like to sing something more lamentable.

“My darling?”

It’s so quiet that you almost don’t hear it - but of course, you do. You’re Supergirl—and you hear everything everyone says to you whether you want to or not. But this one in particular sounds quite pretty in your ears - even prettier than the spring melodies of birds - and it makes you realize ah- angels…

But at the same time you’re realizing that angels didn’t exist on Krypton.

And then you’re shooting awake.

“Fucking fuck!”

Your graceful resurrection is marked by knocking your head with none other than Nanami Kento - whom you found quite understandable to mistake for an angel. As you’re clutching your forehead and letting out a few swears, he lets out nothing but the sweetest, soft chuckle—and as your vision slowly grows used to the light and unblurs, you’re seeing the most beautiful smile on his face. 

His eyes crinkled at the edges, framed by golden glasses. His cheeks had one faint dimple each. And he was looking at you with something humans had never looked at you with - love.

It couldn’t…

Was that your heart thundering or his?

“You don’t know how happy I am that you’re awake.” Nanami whispers, as if afraid to break this fragile piece. This suspension in a place that didn’t quite seem to be Earth nor Krypton. He presses his forehead to yours—“I wanted to thank you first, my darling.”

“Thank me…for what?” You ask- your voice is incredibly hoarse. How long have you been out for? 

Once you clutch your throat, Nanami hastens to pluck a glass of water off the bedside cabinet. And as you drink- you’re looking around the room. The next time you speak, it’s with a slightly steadier tone. “And where are we?”

“Ah- I guess I should apologize first.” Nanami says, sheepishly rubbing the blushing back of his neck. “We’re at my apartment. You’ve been asleep for about sixteen hours now.”

Your lips part.

He hurries to explain. “Chief Yaga from the police station wanted to keep you under their protection at the hospital, the Justice League insisted on keeping you at one of their quarters- your fan club wanted you all to themselves but…I…insisted you wake up in a place that’s somewhat of a home.” Eyes darting shyly downwards. “Just until you wake up- I asked Shoko and she wasn’t sure where you lived, either. You’re a very private person, Supergirl. And Superman is in outer space right now so…”

“Oh…I…I see.” You hold the glass limply in your hand. “And ah- fan club, you said?”

Nanami nods - you don’t see any humor in his eyes. “Your rescue of the train was shown on every channel and program- every breaking news. The Daily Planet won’t stop printing, I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“That…” You feel strangely numb. “I don’t even know what to say. And the casualties-”

“Zero.”

“How did you get to the hospital?”

“Just after you left, Shoko arrived with the police to save me and arrest Kenjaku. Did you know that she’s a vigilante?”

You bite back a smile. “I did.”

He unabashedly smiles, as if meeting you for the first time. “And did you know that I know?”

“I figured by now.” Cocking your head.

“I always had a suspicion but…I don’t know what hypnosis you did but it just wouldn’t make sense in my mind. But when you came down to save me at the cellar, when you were affected by that Kryptonite it just…clicked.”

He’s reaching a hand up to softly cup your right cheek.

“It wouldn’t have made sense to be anyone else.”

It’s warm in Nanami’s bedroom. And it’s even warmer underneath the thin nightdress you’re wearing- you wonder where he got such a thing? And when you’d been put into it? It seems that he catches the questions in your gaze as it dawns upon you what you’re wearing—“I bought it for you after you got discharged at the hospital.” Nanami says. “Shoko helped you into it- althought…I did help.” With a shy blush, he’s looking away.

And you’re closing your eyes and leaning into the touch of his hand. “Thank you.” 

You don’t need to specify for what.

“And then there’s that.” Nanami surprises you as he says, reinvigorated. And how completely correct you were in him having those old movie star looks - that smile of his, with the soft little dimple on each cheek, should be on the big screen. He has a knowing glint in his eyes. “Thank you for saving me- that time at the bakery.”

You feel a little breathless. “It’s no problem.”

“No but it was- it’s how Kenjaku managed to escape. And I know how much you got torn apart in the papers for it—” His jaw clenches. “I saw it everyday.”

You look down at your hands, clasped on top of Nanami’s sweet cream-white sheets. “It’s nothing.”

And slowly - but surely - at a pace that matches the hesitant staccato of your heartbeat, Nanami’s own larger, roughened hands are sliding across the sheets. Intertwining with yours. “It’s not.” 

Your gaze was now flickering between your tangled hands and his unyielding gaze—you didn’t know which was more beautiful.

He continues, “And I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done. I know you don’t feel as if you’ve done enough to be thanked, but I can assure you- w-well, I don’t know how much my word will mean to you if anything at all, but just-”

“Kento.” You cut him off. “Kiss me.”

His lips meet yours and you never wish for them to leave; he tastes like coffee with a hint of honey and everything you’ve ever wanted. You feel as though you can finally breathe.

And he feels as though he can’t—and he’s searching for his first breath between your lips. Nanami gasps as you clutch his baby-blue button-up. 

Nanami’s hand caresses the back of your neck, and he’s cockin’ your head to the side so he can deepen the kiss. Eventually you’re feeling that initial sweetness of first contact melt into somthing…more…something that makes your skin simmer, as he’s letting his pinkish tongue brush your lower lip.

With a gasp you’re welcoming him inside.

And before you know it, you’re being laid flat on your back with Nanami hovering on top of you. With a tap at his broad shoulders, you signal him to get up—and when Nanami’s on his knees before you you’re letting your hands…wander.

“O-oh.” His breath hitches. His Adam’s apple bobs. And a sizzling heat takes over the man’s body as your fingers trace the line of this throat- the valley of his pecs- the bumps of his abs. 

All your knowledge of human anatomy led you to believe that he must be hiding immense strength beneath suits too-big for him, but even this was a surprise.

And then lower, lower, lower—until you’re reaching his rock-hard erection. 

“Shit…” The soft grunt escapes the back of Nanami’s throat—unbidden. He immediately brings one roughened hand up to his mouth, chewin’ on the insides of his cheek as he watches your workings down below. Watches through half-lidded eyes as your palm’s meeting the bulge of his perfectly plaid pants. Cupping. Caressing.

Nanami’s breath grows more n’ more ragged as you keep palming- fuck, he was so big.

You don’t even have to use your x-ray vision to figure that out - but you’re doing so anyway. And what you’re seeing are about seven- eight? Inches of his swollen cock, all throbbing and pulsating underneath your touch. And beads—no, puddles of precum were constantly tearing out from the top of his shaft, creating a mess underneath that made Nanami feel shy.

You swear he’s growing even bigger once he feels the staring.

“A-are you using your…?” Nanami asks, pushing his thick glasses up.

“Mmm, maybe.” You’re cheekily replying. And in mere split-seconds you’ve used your heat vision to incinerate Nanami’s fabrics without actually hurting him.

He gasps and instinctively goes up to cover his aching erection-

But you’re stopping him with a hand of your own. Those fingers of yours wrapping around Nanami’s pale pink cock—he’s oh-so-thick at the base of it, surrounded by a scattering of golden tresses that graze the bottom of your hand.

You’re squeezing the hilt of Nanami’s shaft and he lets his head drop backwards with a moan- “Fuh-fuck. I could cum right here and right now, you know….”

“So do it.” You’re tugging his cock- until you’re reaching the mushroomy top of it and wipin’ away a speckle of precum. It feels so warm underneath your touch—he was just melting for you. “But just know that this is going to be a looooong night, Nanami Kento.”

He gulps.

Meanwhilst you’re pressing your lips to Nanami’s while you keep a constant pace fisting his length. Breaking off from the heated kiss only to lean down and spit-

A direct glob of your saliva gluing to Nanami’s puckered tip.

He’s shivering as it gleamingly trickles down his length—then reeling you into a kiss once more. “Mmm- I can hear your heartbeat, Kento.” You smile into the kiss. “Any reason why it increases when you’re around me?”

“I’m in love with you and I cannot lie about it.” And you don’t know what you expected - banter? Denial? But it certainly wasn’t outright confession, and it certainly wasn’t for Nanami to pant against your lips—to push you back onto the coiled mattress, and shuffle his body down until he’s between your legs. 

With languid movements, he’s pressing your legs to the side until each one is pinned to the soft cotton sheets. And you let him.

Your peripherals locked with his. Nanami’s gold-rimmed glasses tracing your skin. You’re running a hand through Nanami’s blond mane as he presses a line of kisses up your right thigh, up your left thigh, before finally…“May I?”

“Please.”

The next sound escaping you is a deafening trill—as in that very moment Nanami pushes his face nose-deep between those legs. And his tongue’s darting outwards and swabbin’ up - eating you out as though he was starving.

Almost wolfish.

Mouth gaped wide open. Honed canines stickin’ against the opened sides of your folds. 

Your eyes dart to the back of your head- as you’re feeling the dots of his tastebuds push through your nightgown. He was eating you out through your nightgown—

“Kento, take a breather.” You’re whispering down at him, peeping at the ravenous man through struggling lids. The pleasure was consuming every inch of you rapidly; and before long you snake a hand to lift up the nightgown. “Let me just take this off-”

“No.” Nanami’s warm hand comes gripping yours - with surprising strength for a human. “Please- please keep it on.” He struggles.

To even speak.

To even keep his breathing even.

To even unlatch himself from your pussy for the mere moments he has to speak- he didn’t want to waste a single second. And it’s with carnal ferocity that he’s stuffin’ himself back between your legs, flattening his tongue and pressing it against your hot folds. “A-at this point, it might just be the only thing keeping me sane, my darling…if I feel you in all your entirety then I might just-” Nanami’s voice cracks. “-break.”

“What do you mean, Kento…?” You’re breathing. 

There was something…off about the handsome man. Sure, it could’ve just been the heated proximity that was warping your perception of him; but—

But that couldn’t explain the nearly-frenzied pace of his heartbeat - 112 BPM to be exact - or the furious red flush creeping down his neck, or the way he was plastered in a cold sweat. Golden tresses gluing to his forehead and the forefront of your pelvis. One of those beads of perspiration runs down his attractive nosebridge n’ ends up positioning where he was pushing and pushing his sensual face into your puffy folds. Cheeks hollowing as he’s sucklin’ on them through the barely-there barrier of your nightgown.

And you’re swiping your thumb across it - feeling the slightly-sticker consistency of his sweat. 

More so than normal.

And somehow…sweeter?

It doesn’t take your heightened senses to realize—you start to tug on Nanami’s sweaty scalp- but he’s hesitant to remove himself. Merely parting an inch or so with the most agonized groan. “Kento- Kento, don’t you feel a little different right now?”

“Hmmmgh?” He asks with his bleary eyes struggling to focus on you.

“A little different? Maybe a little…warmer?” You watch as he has to think a little bit before nodding. “Don’t you feel like you’re going to- hah, shatter on my pussy?”

“I do.” Nanami spits a glob of spittle down on your cunt, kissing it away before it trickles. “Fuck, I do.”

“Mmm—” Your back arches as his tongue straightens then starts dragging up and down your sopping slit languidly. “And aren’t you wondering h-how exactly I know?”

“How do you know, my darling…?” Sounding barely awake as he questions so.

“It’s because…” And then you’re sitting up and starin’ down at his movie-star face, eyes half-lidded and his blond hair a mess. A few strands of it were falling in front of his gorgeous eyes—so you’re pushing them away with your hand- and Nanami shivers as though just splashed with cold water. “-I’m feeling the same way.” A shiver runs down Nanami’s spine. “That aphrodisiac seems to be contagious.”

“A-aphrodisiac?” Nanami’s eyes widen behind his spectacles.

And you’re giving him a soothing nod. “Mhm. Back at the bar, it seems that what Kenjaku spiked you with was a Kryptonite solution. But what he hadn’t accounted for was the fact that sometimes…Kryptonite can have a bit of an…aphrodisical effect on humans.”

You’re leaning down and kissing his pussy-drenched lips. “Mmm, yeah, I can taste it on you still.”

Nanami’s immediately lurching back- but this time, it’s your turn to be reeling him back in. 

Keeping him delightfully hostage between your legs. “And where do you think you’re going, Earthling?”

“But the Kryptonite-” Nanami pants. Even though his eyes kept constantly flickering down to your cunt as if his favorite baked good set out right in front of him. Syrupy-filled. “It can’t be good for you-”

“At the weakened state it’s in now, it’s not bad for me either.” You smile. “The aphrodisiac shouldn’t impair you, either. But if you do not wish to fully continue-”

“I do.” The words can’t leave Nanami’s lips faster. He’s shoving your legs further apart and whispering. “I do I do I do—”

Then pressing such a harsh open-mouthed kiss against your swollen folds - so hard that it honestly felt as though he was trying to permanently imprint its outline against your pussy. And then when he’s pressed hard enough and long enough and deeeep enough—Nanami jerks away with a wrangled moan.

“But then since I’m already broken…”

And in robotic movements- he pushes your nightgown up until your tits- and he’s plastering his hot lips aaaaall over your cunt. Tongue swiping urgently between your folds and fuckin’ inside like a damn animal.

“Shit—” Moans bubble to your throat- seeping out with bubbles of spit. You’re clawing through his sweaty locks, holding onto him for dear life. “Shit, shit, shit- I didn’t expect humans to be so…”

“S’this your first time on Earth?” He peeks up at you through his long lashes.

“It is.” You’re nodding. Biting onto your lower lip.

And something seems to shift behind Nanami’s darkened eyes; he fixates them on you and doesn’t waver a single second as he lets his tongue fully out. Lavishes the tender in-betweens of your pussylips with all his sensual kisses- “Then I better give you a proper welcome to Earth.”

And it’s with absolutely no warning that he’s increasing the speed of his thrusts.

Flarin’ that sopping wet muscle out so that it stretches out your first ring of muscle- you can feel the sides of Nanami’s tongue slide-slide-sliding all down your channel. He was just so thick- you were feeling him so perfectly like this- and you can’t help yourself…you’re activating your x-ray vision to see how deep Nanami’s really going.

“A-a bit more to the left, Kento…” You murmur. “And a little deeper- ngh.”

He looks up at you in slight surprise. “Oh? You can see where I’m going, my darling?” Experimentally, Nanami stabs a few more thorough probes- deep.

“X-ray vision, remember?” You gasp. Buckin’ up in a sloppy staccato every time Nanami’s nearing with his tongue and his prominent nose- fuck, you loved how the tip of his nose pressed into your clit every time he surged forwards. “Just a bit deeper- oh, your fingers?”

With two of his calloused fingertips slidin’ up and down your vertical slit - accumulating the dewy droplets of slick you were letting out - he smiles. “I may not have superpowers, but something tells me you’re going to like this, Supergirl.”

“Oh- shiiiiiit.” It’s letting out the sloppiest squelch to have Nanami’s fingers easing inside. 

They’re so large- oh, your mouth drops as he’s burgeoning inside. Through your x-ray vision you could see that he’s scissoring inside- stretching aside that velvety channel- letting the doughy tips of his fingers probe inside like two searchlights attempting to pinpoint your most treasured spots. He’s rovering in deeeeeep- and you’re letting your face press into the damp mattress. “You’re enjoying this, Supergirl?”

“I-I am.” You huff. You’re humpin’ up into his pretty face so hard that the bedframe was creaking and moaning. Just as you must have been.

“And is your- hah, favorite Earthling making you feel good—?”

You’re levelling a half-hearted glare at him. “Bold of you to assume- but yes.” His fingers are just so close- “To the right…”

And he’s immediately heeding your every word- meanwhile, his mouth seemed to have felt a little lonely. Because Nanami hastens to latch his kiss-bitten lips around your throbbing clit. “Good. Because I’m just made to make you feel good, my darling. I need this. I need this. M’made for this.” Huffing. “Don’t be afraid to fuck my tongue as hard as you want- don’t be afraid to s-suffocate me, because m’here just to make you—ngh, feel good—”

Pushing up into you.

Pressing himself between your legs even harder.

“I don’t need to breathe- I need you to tell me where that g-spot is.”

Your head’s throwing backwards, thighs trembling around him- you’re soon wrapping your legs around Nanami’s perspired head and locking your ankles around him. Digging his tongue even deeper- he crashes and crashes them against your clit in time with his probin’ fingers. “A little more-”

“How much more?”

“Just about an inch- oh.” You’re squawking out in a way that’d be so embarrassing if it was anytime but now. “And to the left…upwards.”

He notices that you’re almost shying away from his touch with every plap! of his palm hitting the forefront of your cunt. Harder. Faster—even though he may have been a gentleman, Nanami’s fingers were decidedly not. They’re ravenous; managing to curl against the side of your walls, with your direction perfectly locating that one spot you’ve been aching to be touched this entire time. And the human wastes no time pushing against it- you think you’re seeing stars—hey, was that Krypton?

Too occupied to come up with a concrete answer, however, you’re simply basking in the pleasure that Nanami was pouring through your veins.

And he only seems too happy to have your hips hikin’ higher and your pussy pushing up all the way until his nose- with every single thrust he was battering. Your gooey insides are shuddering at the sheer force, you’re feeling a tightness start to formulate at the pit of your stomach. 

Something sore - blissfully so.

“I think…” You gasp. “No I know—” And the thing about being Kryptonian was that it came with immense control over your physiology- which also meant that you could cum on demand. But oh, how much better it felt when it was being drawn out of you by Nanami’s sweet sweet fingers.

Plunging - each time from the rounded tips of his digits and down until those knuckles, reddening at the persistent skin-to-skin contact - towards your g-spot every time. Multiple times a second.

“-Kento, I’m going to cum—”

“So cum f’me, Supergirl-” Nanami spits against your cunt. He sounds ragged- he sounds gone. His tone was a barely-there husk of what it had once been, and his eyes seemed unable to focus on anything but the pretty soakin’ pussy right in front of him. He kept his mouth so fucking full of your throbbing clit as he continued speaking. “Cum f’me…my girl.”

Shit—he’s blushing just saying it. But the effect on you is undeniable - you’re throwing your head into the fluffy pillows and finally letting loose. 

Wrenching on Nanami’s hair. Squeezing his head till he almost suffocates- you’ve got the feeling that he gladly would. Dragging your slick-glazed folds against his face and cumming and cumming.

As your euphoria rips straight through you - Nanami leaves his mouth further ajar and swivels his tongue inside as well. In addition to his fingers, he’s now attempting to squeeze his tongue inside to fuck you silly- to make your dazed peripherals roll to the back of your scalp. “This is what I’m made for.” And you’re unsure whether that was him or the aphrodisiac talking. “This is all I ever wanna do now—mmm—” He moans as syrupy juices stream down either side of his mouth and he’s sucking in your pussy. “My darling, you don’t know how badly I mean it when I say m’made for you. For this pussy.”

You whimper as he perfects his tonguing thrusts to the rhythm of your orgasm. Hitting every single peak. “Sh-shit…it’s becoming sensitive…”

“My darling, I’d rather die than leave this pussy from now onwards.”

“Never expected a gentleman like you to be so filthy.” You huff- rather difficult, considering how much he managed to take your breath away. As he prolongs your high until you’re dizzy—

And then some.

“Mmmm, I’m sensitive.” Fondly; you tug on his golden strands. Nanami lets out a rumble of acknowledgement, but he doesn’t move a single inch - merely grazing- not even properly eating you out anymore, he’s just sloppy grazing his hungry mouth against your sensitive cunt. 

Lapping up the last few dredges of your slick.

Occasionally wishing to feel the clench of your hole- and letting it dip inside—

“Hck!” Tears start to well up behind your eyes. And you have to speak to something deep and carnal within Nanami - otherwise you’re getting the feeling that he’s never going to part his lips from your own drenched ones. “Kento, you can stay here if you want…”

“Mmm-” He eagerly runs his tongue between your velvety folds again.

“-but I was really thinking that we could use my x-ray vision…” That seems to finally pique his interest, and he’s looking up at you. “-for something else. Something bigger, hm?” Pointedly, your eyes dip down.

He knows exactly what you’re talking about.

And in no time, Nanami Kento’s shuffling up your twitching body - still oh-so-sensitive from your previous high. And his hips are closing towards yours, his ruby-red tip is slipping between your legs and sandwiching between your pussylips for a few thrust-thrust-thrusts—“A-are you sure, my darl- oh.”

Before you claw at Nanami’s muscular back and crush him against your body.

Against your hips- your readily awaiting cunt.

Just that sopping, sap-covered tip of his manages to fit inside in that moment - and you’re feeling it throb like he’s always wanted to be here. Filling up the cavern of your cunt and making your toes curl- such a delicious streeeetch—! you’ve never felt before. And Nanami watches as you’re on the verge of shattering just as he already has—and he leans down to press a quick press on the edge of your chin. “M-mmmm.” 

But it’s hard even think let alone fucking speak with your soaking wet cunt wrapped around him like this. His very own taste of heaven.

Nanami’s letting escape a few botched moans- before he decides to preserve whatever is left of his dignity, and bites down on his pathetically wobbling lip. Trying his very best to keep any noise from leaving him as he experimentally moves his hips behind and probes back inwards with his plump, puckered tip. Just the round girth of it openin’ you up even more. “Sh-shiiiiiiit—my darling, am I even…”

You’re looping your arms around him and dragging him even closer. But Nanami’s too far gone to even kiss you properly- and his lips end up sliding around your jawline. “Even what, Kento?”

Bleary eyes damn-near popping out of his skull. Skin flushed ever-redder due to the aphrodisiac or simply just…you. Cock spurting out wad after wad of eager precum—he just couldn’t stop himself.

“Alive…” Nanami rasps out.

And your jaw drops at the question. “Is that…is that a joke, baby?” Although you already knew the answer- Nanami Kento was never the type to just joke.

And just as you’d expected, he’s furiously shaking his head and pumping out a few more overeager semi-thrusts. So overeager, in fact, that he’s ending up plopped out of your wettened cavern- and Nanami almost blows a fuse trying to get himself back in.

“Let me help you with that, Kento.” You giggle. Pushing aside his fumbling fingers, you’re wrapping your own around his incredibly thickened base - enough to make your mouth water.

Pointing the globular top of his shaft towards your cunt, you allow him to push inside once more. Breath hitching. Thighs shaking. Pants erratic as he does so- “Are you alright, baby?” You ask him—this time opening your legs wider to let his furious inches shovel in. “D’you think you can handle it if I use my powers to bring all of you inside?”

“Yes but…no.” Nanami admits. He wears a sheepish smile on his face - almost shy. Which was in direct contrast with the way he’s scrapin’ his right hand down your core and resting it atop your womb. He looks at you with raised brows. “Here?”

You nod. “Right there.” Then you’re wiggling your hips down in order to take him deeper—

But Nanami’s stopping you with a hand at your waist- practically glued onto your skin. He’s firm in his touch though not unkind. And Nanami’s boring deeeeply into your eyes - your very soul - as he’s giving you light, shallow thrusts. Poking himself past that ruthless squeeze of your entrance. “I…hah, I’ll need your superpowers to tell me where I am, my darling. And exactly where you want me.” 

Then Nanami plants you with a particularly hard strike that sends his long cock digging. His sides were decorated with a zig-zagging pattern of veins that massages your delicate insides.

“But as for fitting inside…” His mouth fucking waters at the prospect - and you already know with your senses. The gentleman leans down and spits in your mouth. “-we’re gonna do it the human way, okay?”

“Please-” Your nails start to dig into the shifting muscles of his back. “Please-”

And he’s not doing it the human way—not instantly. Before that; Nanami removes your palms from his shoulders and pins them above your head. Using but a single hand of his.

And you know you could easily overpower him - you just know it - but in this instance it makes something carnal twitch inside you to have the calm, soft-spoken gentleman shatter in this way on your pussy. It wasn’t just the aphrodisiac: he was using one hand to restraint yours- so hard that you feel his nail marks, he was using the other to push your knees up until they hit your tits, he was pulling his cock out until it was juuuust the pretty, pinkish top of his shaft.

And then plunging back in.

As deep as he could go - until he’s feeling the little tightness of your entrance. Then reeling back out to repeat. And repeat.

And repeat.

And repeat.

Nanami Kento was stabbing you with his cock nearly a dozen times a second—and he wasn’t sweet with it- he wasn’t fucking gentle. 

He was utterly pussydrunk and fucking you just like it. “Please, please, please—” Nanami’s attractive baritone hitches at the very end of his sentence, breaking into a million pieces just as he was. “Sh-shit, it’s like the deeper I go…the more I can’t- hngh.”

“Think?” You flutter your lashes up at him.

“Yeah.” He breathes. “That.”

And you can’t help but let out a little giggle—the way his flared tip rubbed your insides was addictive. He was so wiiiiide above his sensitive slit, and that was pushing forcefully into every one of your hidden spots. “You’re so close to my- hck! favorite spot, Kento. Do you remember where that was?” 

“Mmm, my darling- remember?” Nanami looks down at you with crazed eyes. “I can’t even remember my own name right now.”

“Then I’ll guide you.”

Though your arms were pinned to the bed, you’re able to careen your hips up into his. And that ruggedly handsome v-line of his was slowly growing redder at the repeated contact- to which you’re only pushing up even harder. “Just a little deeper- two inches?” You’re using your x-ray vision to map out the perfect route to your g-spot. “And then a little more- fuck, angle your hips a little more to the left.”

“Like this?” He asks. Beautiful hazel eyes almost fluttering shut at the onslaught of sudden squeezes that your cunt was blessing him with. “Fuck, how are you squeezing me even- deeper?”

“My superhuman powers?” You’re joking- joking.

But that doesn’t stop Nanami from asking- “Then does that mean you can…snap my dick off with that pussy, my darling?”

At first you’re in disbelief that such words could have possibly left Nanami Kento’s - the Nanami Kento’s - mouth. And then when it’s finally sunken in, you’re debating whether he was actually serious about it—he looked serious enough. “Ah…” Your lips part. “Kiss me.”

He does.

And as he does, that winding restraint of your legs tugs n’ tugs him ever-closer. Ever-deeper.

That bulbous tip of his was openin’ you up so fucking well—hidden nooks you hadn’t even known existed. And after a few more jerky thrusts, Nanami breaks the kiss with a rather lecherous slurp! and moves to huff against your ear. “I-is it all the way in, my dearest?”

“Shouldn’t you be the one to know that?” You’re chuckling before looking down using your x-ray vision once more.

“Tell me, my darling- tell me.” And Nanami Kento was always rather the stoic man—never combusting, never overreacting. But at this moment, it feels as though the longer he’s not fully stuffed in your cunt, the more and more he’s fucking losing it-

“Well…just a few inches longer until you’re gonna be- hah-” Untangling one of your hands from his, you’re running it down your core. Your womb. “-here.”

And Nanami can’t hurry up enough to pin your hands back on the mattress, replacing it with his own. He fucking moans when he realizes that - if he presses down hard enough, perhaps through your superhuman powers - you can make him feel himself bumpin’ thrusts from the outside. You continue. “But you’re actually pretty close to- ah.”

Just then your words are taking on a trilling tone.

Almost matching his in terms of neediness.

Nanami’s running his lengthy cock so deeeeep inside that he ends up rubbin’ his flared tip along either side of your channel—perfectly massaging that one spot you’ve been yearning for this entire time. It’s like a pretty target then that he’s never failing to hit over and over and over again- until you’re throbbing and raw inside.

And every one of his thrusts end up puncturing that spot. That sweet bundle of nerves that makes his mouth water- you’re shattering around his shaft every time he repeats the motion. “Deeper.” Nanami chokes out. “Deeper- now I just need you to take me even deeper. I don’t just want it- I need it.”

And pressing your legs apart with his strong pelvis- he’s murmuring as he hones in.

That target at the back of your pussy.

That gummy surface that just seemed to be calling to him.

That area at the very bottom that just seemed soaked in his never-ending precum—“I need it. I need it. I need it so fuckin’ badly.” He was slurring on his words by this point, and Nanami noses down the column of your throat. “It’s like every atom inside me is burning up. Not just because of the fuck- aphrodisiac.”

“Not just…?” You ask with widened eyes.

And he’s grinding down on the heavenly spot between your legs - so hard that the scruff of his happy trail massages your clit. And it’s such a primal sensation that you don’t think you’d ever be able to replicate—not even with your hypercontrol. “Not just.” He dips his face into the crook of your neck, hair sticking to your clammy skin. “My darling, your body’s liquor.”

Harder and harder. 

With a few more thorough strokes, Nanami’s finally - finally - bottoming out. 

You feel the moment he empties out those thick, throbbing inches with a rough bang! The velvety end of his tip swipes across your cervix- and you’re shivering at the rope of goey precum he’s leaving behind. “Sh-shiiiiiit.”

“Have I…?” Nanami’s pupils dilate. “Have I…” And he keeps fucking you in merciless thrusts.

You smile, “Why don’t you see for yourself, Kento?” He seriously didn’t realize, yet?

Nanami blinks dazedly a few times- before he’s slowly ducking his head downwards and staring at the place where you two were connected. Where your puffy pussylips were struggling to swallow down his red cock—and his heavy balls were thwack-thwack-thwacking away. And it’s enough to make his mouth water.

“Oh.”

His breath hitches as he sees that lil’ tummy bulge he was fucking into you.

And Nanami falters his hips - for just a split-second - so that he could reach down and give that tummy bulge a kiss—a fucking kiss. Coming back up with the most accomplished smile- “I-I think m’close, my darling.”

“So then cum, Kento.” You’re breaking free of his restraint to throw your arms around him again. “And I’ll-”

“No.” The blond man already knew what you were going to say. Shaking his sweaty head, “I won’t let you make yourself cum using your powers, my dear—this Earthling is going to do it himself.”

So you’re keeping your mouth shut and giving into the pleasure - and on Krypton you may have had to use your physiological control to get yourself off most of the time- but Nanami was hellbent on making you feel better than he already was. He’s slammin’ away into your g-spot. He’s using his now-free hand to roll over your clit.

Again and again and again—

As many times as he needed to in order to push you towards your high - even if it meant rubbin’ his reddened cock raw against the sopping hot insides of your cunt. In next to no time; Nanami has your toes curling at the sheer amount of pleasure shooting up from them.

And you’re babbling away into the grove of his neck, “K-Kento, I’m close…”

“Please-” He sounds very much ruined by how he’s had to push his own orgasm for yours- gladly, at that. “P-please…” A ribbon of spit glides from the corner of his mouth, and Nanami pushes down on your tummy bulge using his chiselled abs. “Cum on my cock, my girl.”

You’re both reaching your highs at the same time - Nanami’s with a few more choked-up groans and the sloppiest thrusts you’ve ever had the pleasure of receiving, and you with a few more replays of his name and the bed frame shattering underneath you. It’s solely from using your super strength to fuck back into Nanami’s cock - something you hadn’t even realized you’d been doing.

Your brain feels completely fried by the crescendo of your high- getting every peak of it smacked! by Nanami’s ruthless hips.

Again and again—he’s pumping out scalding white globs of cum.

It empties out midway down your walls and smears once he’s hittin’ your cervix. “Cum on my- cum on my…oh, fuck.” Nanami’s pupils tremble- “Don’t think I’ve ever felt like this before…”

“Mmm, me neither.” You coo up at him. Your own orgasm was taking over you nerve by nerve—flooding it with white-hot pleasure. Back arching. Knees trembling. It thrums inside of you - and you’re wondering just how potent that aphrodisiac is, because your heartbeat’s almost concerningly fast—

“S’that so?” Nanami slurs. Pressing a chaste peck to your lips as he fucks his cum inside you. “Because I’m not just talking about the sex.”

Oh.

The realization hits you like a freight truck - or maybe a block of Kryptonite. Your heartbeat wasn’t increasing just because of the aphrodisiac. Not at all.

You’re pressing your lips to Nanami’s once more, and you can see yourself doing it over and over and over again.

“Me too.”

And then after a moment, you laugh.

“Kento, we broke the bed.”

.

.

.

SUPERGIRL SAVES 160,000 AT RAINBOW BRIDGE—A TIMELINE OF THE JUSTICE LEAGUE’S NEWEST ADDITION.

EXCLUSIVE: LOCAL JOURNALIST SAVED BY SUPERGIRL (THE COVERPAGE OF THE YEAR?)

SUPERVILLAIN KENJAKU FINALLY ARRESTED! REVEALED TO BE BEHIND RAINBOW BRIDGE SITUATION AND SLANDER CAMPAIGN AGAINST SUPERGIRL…

“I spy with my little eye…” Shoko’s knowing gaze flickers between you and Nanami. “-a smile. Two smiles.”

Nanami’s warm gaze turns to you. “Ah, what’s there not to smile about?”

“Considering I’ve finally cleared up my name.” You respond. And it was true; ever since the highly-publicized double heroism in which you saved both Nanami and managed to prevent the Yurikamome Line accident, the headlines couldn’t get enough of your name. Except this time…it wasn’t a bitter taste on their tongues. 

Were we wrong about Supergirl? Was Kenjaku behind the hate campaign?

(Partially. You don’t doubt that that man had his fingers in every pot and scheme possible, but you don’t doubt that most of it was pure human vitriol. And you hoped Kenjaku continued seething…from Tokyo Island Penitentiary.)

It was sweet.

And you weren’t naive enough to believe that the criticism would stop immediately - or in fact ever - but that was alright now. That was fine. 

When you were you.

And you had Nanami beside you—

He intertwines his hand with yours- and Shoko pretends to gag at the sweet, sweet act. The both of you are shaking your heads at her dramatics; which you know she didn’t mean considering the cover page that she’d been staring at at that very moment.

That second headline.

EXCLUSIVE: LOCAL JOURNALIST SAVED BY SUPERGIRL (THE COVERPAGE OF THE YEAR?)

By Nanami Kento.

Underneath those words were a picture snapped from the night you’d save Nanami for the second time. 

You’re crashing through the ceiling of Kenjaku’s bar. You’re carrying Nanami Kento in a princess carry. You. You. You. Powerful and precise. And the way that Nanami was staring at you- oh, he had stars in his eyes brighter than the night sky in the background. His arms were holding onto you like a lifeline, and you were unfettered as you held him close like a star himself.

It was the very picture of heroism.

But to you, it was also…

“Love.” Shoko whispers. “You’re in love.”

And you’re opening your mouth in response - but you’re spared from answering, as you hear something in the distance—a scream. Downtown Shibuya. There was a mugging in occurrence and the perpetrator seemed to have a weapon.

You’re looking at Nanami and Shoko, and both nod as they recognize the hardened glint in your eye.

They’d come up with some believable excuse for your absence, surely. And if they didn’t…

You’re sweeping a glance at the mundane cubicles to make sure no one was watching- then ducking out of the nearest open window as fast as light. On strong summer winds, you’re flying off to save someone—and underneath that grey coat of yours flapped your iconic suit. You tear it open at the chest to reveal the ‘S’ underneath.

-it didn’t matter, anyway.

You were Supergirl.

A/N. Hehehehehe-

Hope you have a lovely week <3

[kamiflix]

▶︎︎︎︎ Fire In My Heart (starring . higuruma & nanami)

synopsis . What happens when the man you fell for during a vacation trip abroad turns out to be your arranged fiancé’s best friend? A mess of tugged heart strings, horribly convoluted emotions, and a whole lotta’ fornication—of which none of you knew how to manage. content . afab!reader, plot with porn, arranged marriage (nanami), one night stands (higuruma), lots of yearning, slight angst, heavy tension, nanami x higuruma, forced proximity, sloooow burn(s), fluff, 70’s/80’s song references & use, filthhh, oral sex, awkwardness, exhibitionism, strangers to lovers, eventual threesome, possessiveness, size kink, improper use of ties (bondage), dirty talk, panty sniffing & stealing, love triangle ending in a polycule, higu is a freak, prone bone, edging, pet names, virginity loss (nanami), second hand embarrassment, marathon sex, shiu cameo, praise, degrading, men kissing, dumbification, a trip to Paris (heh), drunk confessions, finger sucking, dramatics, etc.

word count . 19.8k (holy balls) || author’s note: hi, this is a milestone special lol. apologies for errors, if any. banner art from “Ikyouto Kouryuukai”

You always had a thing for people overworked and underfucked in several positions.

It was evident in the way you constantly attracted that genre of person—starting with your closest friend Shoko Ieiri, whom you dragged out of the country to vacation with—and ultimately ending with a man occupying a barstool across the way from you.

With a half empty glass of liquor swishing through a rotating cup—held only by the edge of his deft fingertips—wide-set, weary brown eyes cast your way suddenly enough to make you flinch.

Then came a mirroring drink sliding towards you from the much softer-eyed bartender.

“I didn’t order this,” You hummed easily, letting your eyes run from the dark-haired man of interest.

The bartender nodded his head back into the same direction your gaze just left, and you knew then that you’d gotten exactly what you wanted.

His attention.

Where does this take you? Right back to a game of eye-tag so doused in tension that it feels like a physical strike to your nerves.

Unknowing of how he'd recently fallen victim to your budding attractions, your mystery man sat particularly independent and detached from the room surrounding him. The only thing that seemed to pluck him out of his perpetual state of aloofness was the persistent way in which a gaze landed on him.

The gaze in question being yours, of course.

You simply couldn't help yourself, especially after he’d gone out of his way to buy you a drink.

Though, despite him being the picture perfect image of your type, you weren’t about to let this kindling flame crackle and then die out too quickly. No, you much preferred when mutual interest like this played out nice ‘n slow.

Which is exactly why you let your eyes glide down to the silently offered drink, lift a manicured nail to the glass’s rim, and then create a mild bit of distance by pushing it away.

The glass coolly slides across the bar far enough to be received as you declining the beverage, and your mystery man of interest catches it immediately. You look up again just to make sure he was watching you and you’re left with a little jump in your heart as his tired eyes mull elsewhere.

Fear threatened to take over at the momentary loss of his attention, but your worry was quickly soothed as he looked at you again. Lifting that half-drunken glass of his, he lightly tips it your way with an understanding nod of his head, obliging to your rejection.

Now, most would assume that this is where things end between you both. He offered you a drink and you politely declined it, how can tension possibly still exist there?

Simple—if you’re someone that’s of true interest to him, he won’t exactly stop there.

Which is precisely why it's of no surprise when he moves to stand up.

You'd been sipping on something you'd ordered roughly thirty minutes ago before Shoko left you to network the dance floor, trying your best not to make it obvious that every smidge of your attention was trained onto a man whose name you hadn't even gotten yet. But with the way he carries himself, it was almost impossible to do so.

The moment he stood up seemed to make your centered attention worse off. He was noticeably over six feet, a trait of which you recognize from across the room as you let yourself watch how he absentmindedly lifts a hand to make an unnecessary adjustment to his tie.

The way he walked around the bar had people turning heads and bartenders exchanging glances as if to imply he hadn't moved from his previous spot for a while up until now.

An exit is located not too far off behind you, so part of you figured your singular rejection is exactly the thing that'd drive him into retiring for the night. Was this your intent or goal? No, not at all.

But you liked the thrill of clinging on to the wildly false sense of hope that dwindled about inside you. The same sense of hope that sparked your intuition and made it less of a surprise to see your mystery man round the bar and relocate himself a mere two barstools away from you.

You watched through your peripherals how he fit himself into his seat—the length of his legs angling beneath the bar, and his charcoal-colored suit sleeking darker under the new angle of the establishment's dim lighting.

With him being closer to you, it was hard not to turn your head to get a better look at him and all that he had to offer you visually. Then again everything involving this man and your will to do things threads on a very, very thin line—as you'll come to find out.

Five minutes—not that you're counting or anything—roll by before anything noteworthy occurs.

Unfortunately, it's of your own actions that bring interest back into the slowly rolling interaction-, er, lack thereof...

You look back into the moderately distant clumps of people in search of Shoko, wondering just what has kept her so occupied this long. Eventually you spot her talking to a rather timid man with glasses, his gaze hardly meeting hers due to the intimidation she exuded via maintaining completely undivided attention on him.

The sight makes you smile as you set your drink down and you take this as the perfect opportunity to steal a quick glance at your fairly quiet mystery man. He'd bought you a drink, you declined it, then he came over, and since then... things have been placid. Unwelcomely so.

Has it been your turn to make another silent move all this time? Or were you both waiting for something to just happen out of the blue?

When you move your eyes to him, you feel your heart lurch in your chest.

The man is already looking at you—or, more specifically—at your legs. His eyes traveled slowly along your thighs based on how much you had revealed, making an intentionally steady descent to your calves and around the curve of them, before eventually falling onto your heels. At that final stop, his brows twitch.

He doesn't make a face or anything like that, rendering you unable to figure out what was going through his head, but he does blink ever so slowly before making eye contact with you.

...Almost as if he knew you were watching him check you out.

You start to open your mouth to say something of the quirky variety but he beats you to it.

"You declined my drink," Rumbles off the expanse of his tongue like he'd been holding the words there for longer than he meant to. The throaty base in his voice has you inattentively crossing one leg over the other.

Which, he notices, of course.

There was music playing softly throughout the room but from the moment he opened that dangerously calm mouth of his, every other sound seemed irrelevant to your ears.

Now that a conversation had finally presented itself, you had an excuse to take in every feature he had. His eyes are naturally wide in a way that should feel hollow or empty, yet does the exact opposite somehow. There's a richness lounging around in his irises, the outskirts of them indicating nights and nights lacking sleep, and the dull way in which he drags his gaze everywhere telling you that being tired is a trait he may have been born with.

All of which have you so utterly intrigued.

"I did," finally exits you, and for a split second his face dares to show emotion. An unspoken battle of attentiveness waged between you both, evident his mild reaction to hearing you for the first time. Someone could walk by and see or feel the tension already blooming between the two of you.

The man patiently waits for you to grant him with more of a response than that, eyeing how you move your hand towards the drink he purchased for you.

Your nail lightly taps against the rim and your shoulders rise to shrug, "Buying a woman a drink from across the room without even saying hello feels a bit lazy to me, sorry."

He doesn't smile at that but the corners of his mouth involuntarily move. A faint scoff leaves his nose, "I see." He murmurs, making it clear he wasn't exactly a man of many words. "Is that your type, then? A man who approaches you directly?"

Things had only just begun and the dynamic had you reeling in your seat already. Turning to face him a little more, "Depends," Your head tilts and you send him a grin, "Is that you?"

"Could be.” He offers suavely, “I've approached you, haven't I?"

You hum, tapping at that idle glass of rejection again before returning to your own cup, "Only after I've declined your drink."

He appears unimpressed by your response, eyes leaving your face and moving to your hand, "You didn't answer my question."

"I thought it rhetorical." You bite back.

His lips twitch again, "It wasn't."

Something about the blunt end of his statement has you unable to lessen your attraction for him. You liked how he was carrying himself through this conversation so far.

Sighing, "...Obviously, you've approached me."

He notes the sass in your tone but doesn’t address it in the slightest. Instead meeting you with some of his own, "Then that makes me your type, no?"

Before you can answer that, he slowly leans over with his arm extending out. You thought he was about to offer his hand to shake but it amply moves past you and plucks up the same drink you denied moments earlier. Bringing it to his lips, you’re left to watch him turn his head to the side as he sips.

And that—whether it be intentional or not—has your mind set on how you want this night to go. This stranger had already been your type in terms of perpetually presented exhaustion, a drawling voice, and calculated way of speaking but his most redeemable quality was undoubtedly his nose.

Oh fuck, it was beautiful. The gorgeously arching curve had your eyes stuck in place. You didn’t want to stare at it but shit, you didn’t realize how big it was up until now.

In the casual manner he goes about drinking, you wonder if he even realizes the sex symbolistic quality shaping his face.

Your lashes bat and your words nearly come drooling out of you, "I don't even know your name."

God, you hope it wasn’t obvious that he’d you exactly where he wanted you already.

"I don't recall you asking for it." He hums gravely.

It’s like he’d written out a response for everything hours before even approaching you! Or, perhaps he’d exchanged this set of dialogue before. Maybe you weren’t leaving the stand-outish impression you’d hoped to.

Instead of playing into his game, you take matters back into your hands, "Is that your type, then?” You mock with the slightest smirk on your face, “ A woman who shows interest immediately after you've approached her?"

"No,” Fuck. Of course he had a response prepared for this as well, “I prefer a woman who can't keep her eyes off of me, and then plays coy once confronted about it."

You scoff, "I'm not playing coy."

"It's cute how you didn't deny the first part.” He finally grins, albeit small. Then he makes eye contact with you again and lifts his brows, “Was that intentional?"

"Very." You claim.

...Just who exactly was playing into who's hand now?

There’s a small beat of suspense that splays out between you, but he eventually breaks it before you do.

"Higuruma Hiromi." He finally tells you, splitting his keen attention to return to his drinking.

You offer your name politely in return and then add, "I like how I didn't have to ask for it."

The exchange of names has him loosened up more than the alcohol. You see it in how he becomes a bit more telling in his expressions and body language. 

Higuruma shrugs, "You should never have to."

"Almost seemed like you wanted me to," You fire right back.

He can’t help but smile for the first time, thinking he was quick with his words but noticing you’re becoming quicker. "No? I'm your type, remember?” He teases, turning his head to scan the bar, “I know how you like a direct approach."

You wanted to hate how smooth he was but unfortunately it was only worsening the existing attraction you felt for him. He was supposed to approach you and say something corny like most men do—y’know, struggle to finalize your interest and completely squash whatever fantasized version of them you had in your head.

Yet, Higuruma was the exact opposite. He exceeded your prospects and then fucked a throbbing new reality right into your fantasies. 

That can’t be fair, can it?

"Alright,” You finally breathe out, feeling sick of how things are only getting worse for you. “So did you buy me a drink for the banter or are you interested in something more?" You ask.

Higuruma leans forward toward the bar and moves to rest his cheek against his knuckles as he looks at you, "Are you denying me the option of both already?"

"You didn't answer my question." You mock again.

Something on him twitches but it’s not his mouth this time. He distracts you from it with a kinder expression, "I'm interested in both."

Your brows raise, "So you expected the banter then."

"Not at all," Higuruma chuckles faintly. "My expectations were nonexistent, considering I prefer to be surprised."

You lean toward him a little, your dress shifting against your body and tempting him to dip his gaze elsewhere. Then you’ve the nerve to bat your lashes at him, "And how did I do? Are you surprised by my wit?" You joke.

Luckily it lands with another smile coming your way, "I'm surprised by you, period. Mainly because this is my first time seeing you here."

"I'm on a vacation trip with my friend," You hum, glancing and pointing back at Shoko.

Higuruma’s eyes follow before he nods at your spotted friend, "Ah, I see."

“And I'm assuming you come here often?" You ask, feeling happy to keep the casual conversation going.

He looks at you again, "More than I care to admit, yes."

"Mh." You squint skeptically at that, "Demanding job?"

If his answer turns out to be yes then it would all make sense. He looks tired, he’s still fully dressed in a suit, and he’s on his third drink of the night. 

"Yeah, I’m a lawyer.” Figures. “What gave it away?" Higuruma asks.

You gesture at his face playfully, "A little bit of everything."

He chuckles, "I get that a lot.” Then, he finally sets his glass back down and sits up a little straighter, intent on showing you that you have his undivided attention now.

As it stands, the two of you know so very little about one another. The only thing inherently obvious between you both is that you’re deathly attracted to each other.

A mutual comfort of sorts settles in between you and Higuruma, evident in how things felt moderately different now. The small talk had been nice and all, but it was overtly obvious that you both wanted much more than to pass time with words that’d surely be forgotten come the next morning.

Which is exactly why you run your eyes over the man one last appreciative time and let your head tip to the side as you say, "It's my last night here."

The sound of that has his brows perking up in interest, "You wanna make it worth something?"

"How so?" You shoot back.

Higuruma quips lightly, "Answer my question without another question and you'll find out."

You smile and finally concede, "Yeah, I wanna make it worth something…”

——

Which is roughly how you end up in the backseat of his car—his personal driver ahead pretending not to hear the heavy pants and breathy moans leaving the two of you.

You hardly remember how you got from one place to another. One second the two of you were drunkenly locking lips at the bar, and the next you were unbuckling your seatbelt and climbing on top of him after growing too needy to wait for the ride to be over.

The two of you were on your way to—what you assume to be—his place and while your concern for leaving out with a complete stranger should’ve been present, it wasn’t. Instead, the only thing concerning you was the way your dress slid up your thighs and over the curve of your ass via needy shoves from Higuruma’s big hands.

His grasp had been careful when it first met you in the bar—initially treating you all delicate-like as he cupped your jaw and pulled you in slowly for that first kiss. Then it’d traveled to the back of your neck, tugged you in to deepen the kiss, and ultimately ended up where it is now: tracing the skin of your thighs and bundling the fabric of your dress up, up, up! until your lacy panties were revealed.

One quick peek from his poor driver ahead and he’d surely be flashed by the sight of your underwear. Not that you were sober enough to care.

Higuruma’s fingertip dug into your thighs with a certain fixation for them, hauling your body impossibly closer to his own and prompting a proper grind against his clothed cock so you could feel exactly what you’d done to him thus far. It was enough to have you gasping into his mouth, your sounds swallowed up by his desperate kisses and the searing swats of his tongue that accompanied them.

Your arms were slung around his neck loosely and you couldn’t help how your hips bucked against him—the fabric of your panties clinging to your wet cunt as you ground a particularly soaked spot into his dark slacks.

"You want me now?" Higuruma scoffs into your mouth as if to scold you. Smirking before you can even answer and tonguing his next words into you, "Are you like this often? Throwing yourself on top of strangers and begging for them to touch you? Hm?"

When he pulls away, you’re given but one second to gasp as his head dips down and his nose brushes against your jawline—the sound of him inhaling your very scent giving you a short chill down your spine.

You manage a cheeky smile as you thread a hand into his hair and ruffle the strands in between your fingers, "If I say no, would you even believe me?"

His lips plaster the right side of your neck in hot kisses before he whispers, "Depends on how convincing you make it sound."

You push him back softly and his body rocks along with the movement, hands growing tighter at your hips. There’s a prominent twitch from his cock just under you at your sudden assertiveness, and the way you two meet eyes is downright filthy. Whatever visual chase you’d done earlier couldn’t possibly compare to the way you both just eye-fucked one another.

Breaking the moment, you lean to his ear, "No, Higu, I don't throw myself at people like this.” Your hands shift down and you start plucking a few of his clothes off—starting with his tie and trying to make your way down to his belt, “But, it's like I said earlier, tonight's my last night here and I wanna make it count. Sue me."

He chuckles at that, "Careful, sweetheart.” 

You’ve no idea if he was warning you about your words or the fact that your touch is trekking dangerously close to his erection. 

Your wonder is satisfied a mere second later as he adds, “I just might."

With a roll of your eyes, "Gross, does dirty talk with all lawyers sound like that?" You groan, finally pulling his belt free from the loops and tossing it to the side.

The sound of it clattering against the vacant seat has the driver up ahead—who's name you caught as Shiu Kong—peering into the rear view mirror. 

"It was a joke,” Higuruma responds to you lowly, a couple of his fingers slipping under the lace of your panties at your hip.

You scoff playfully, “A corny one.”

“You smiled.” He bites back.

Shaking your head this time, your gaze slips down to watch yourself unbutton his pants as you snort, “Jokes are meant to be laughed at.”

You barely get to unzip him before he says, “And you’re meant to be moaning by now.” 

Just like that, your attention is stripped from the task at hand (literally), and you’re meeting eyes with him all over again. It was clear he didn’t want to waste what little time he had with you. 

Thus leading you to match his energy as you always do, arching a brow and leaning in a little closer, “So make it happen.”

“Needy girl.”

——

Between the luxury car and penthouse you soon end up in, you hardly remember a pure thought ringing throughout your head. The entire ride had been filled with dry humping hot enough to have the two of you drooling into one another’s mouth, and it was like you’d blinked before you were being tossed onto some bed.

Items of Higuruma’s suit and your dress decorated the hallway leading up to his room, and the few remaining pieces of fabric between your bare skin and his was currently being glared at by a patently prurient pair of eyes. 

During the ride here, Higuruma had muttered something filthy into your ear about how he loooves making women like you feel good. Obviously you were too wrapped up in your own aroused brain to realize this was a warning of sorts.

The thing is, Higuruma was not your average eater. He didn't treat oral sex like foreplay or a thing to be done out of convenience, but he catered to the act as if it were an art to be studied and thoroughly executed.

You, (un)fortunately learn this the hard way.

After being not-so-patiently tossed onto a plush set of sheets, large, grabby hands met the underside of your thighs and were quick to sprawl your legs apart. Then Higuruma was settling himself in between them, uncaring of how hard he was and wanting-, no, needing only one thing from you at present.

You severely underestimated how infatuated a man could be with eating you out until you met Higuruma.

The gentleman was so utterly craving that he didn't even bother pushing your panties to the side. His lips met the fabric with ease, and you were left to watch him with slightly furrowed brows as he tongued through them to gather the first taste of you onto his rather famished tongue.

The first noise you let out was nothing short of embarrassing given that you flinched like a woman who hadn't been touched in months. Higuruma comforts you with a sound of his own though—a throaty groan vibrating directly in between your puffy folds in response to the teasing taste of you greeting the center of his oral muscle.

A long stripe of salivating sin swipes up all crookedly against your panty-clad cunt as he takes his sweet time figuring out how he wants to go about devouring you tonight.

When a proper dribble of your aroused slick enters his throat with one slippery descent, Higuruma's lashes begin to flutter as if heaven itself just met his taste buds in liquified fashion. Then he moans against you, a sneaky whine laced somewhere in between the desperate sound.

His hands grip the skin of your thighs and he pushes your legs out impossibly wider—like you hadn't been spread enough already! The little gasp you let out in reaction to being stretched so widely goes through one ear and out the other with the way Higuruma lets the entirety of his mouth cup your pussy before giving it a firm suck.

You thought having your panties on would be uncomfortable for you but you quickly found that it was the exact opposite with him. He'd suckled your taste hard enough to pull the fabric up into his mouth for a second, lifting his head a little and letting space grow between your now outstretched panties and your glistening cunt.

Then a cold brush of air would slip through said space and you'd shudder just to feel your underwear wetly slap! back down against you.

It was then that your hand shot down to his hair and your hips lightly rolled up for more. You felt the corner of his lips curl up to smirk as he continued with his oral motions.

At some point you get the feel that he's just taunting and your impatience gets the better of you, causing you to use your grip on his hair to push his face a little harder against your cunt.

Higuruma's hips buck against the bed hard enough to rock the entire frame at that as he lets something filthy exit his throat. Then you feel his smirk widening out into a smile before his eyes peek up at you. His tongue glides right and finally shifts under your panties for a moment, languidly licking at the lip he's met with there.

"Higuuu," You try crying out in an honest attempt for him to quit it with the teasing.

As if encouraged by the sound, his tongue simply begins to dip at the outskirts of your pussy. A thumb comes over smoothly to peel the rest of that lacy fabric out the way, and you hear him breath out something of awe at the raw sight of you.

Your poor cunt was sooo swollen from all the sucking and wet kisses he'd given you for the past however many minutes. If the sight didn't have his cock slobbering against his boxers then perhaps he'd feel bad.

With one more adjustment of his positioning, Higuruma moves his hands to your hips and then pulls you a little closer before he dives in nose first. The tip of it peppers a couple kisses around your clit just to feel the way your neglected nub twitches at the first bit of contact, and you feel a fat glob of spit meet your entrance.

The plump pad of his thumb pucks at your weepy hole a couple times before you hear him whisper, "Such a pretty lil' thing, fuuck."

Then he angles his face and you watch the whorish display of him lathering the bumpy ridge of his nose with all your profoundly drooling slick, his mouth returning to taste you directly for the first time.

Once he gets a full taste of you, he doesn't stop until he's satisfied—your gorgeous string of whines 'n moans drowned out into the air and battling for volume against the sloshy shlicks! coming from your cunt as Higuruma does what he'd been dying to do from the moment he first met eyes with you that night.

The feel of you against is tongue is something he just can't get enough of, his mouth is moving haphazardly along your slit to work your drenched folds further apart.

Then comes his thiiiick fingers, which work your insides out steadily in scissors-like motions. You feel him prodding against spots you weren't even aware you had, promoting the prettiest arch in your back as your body uncontrollably squirms against the bed to escape him.

Your breath had run from you many moments ago and you struggled to capture it back into your lungs, much too wrapped up in the pleasure thrumming all throughout your body.

Higuruma's a feral eater but he's neat with it, making sure none of your delectable slick escapes the jail of his mouth, and thoroughly pursuing any slips that dare to trickle elsewhere.

It's not until after your fourth or fifth orgasm—coaxed via his tongue alone—that you feel your legs turning to mush, jittery shakes noticeable as you use that grip on his hair to tug and then push at him all confusedly. You were at a point where you didn't even know what you wanted anymore. On one hand, his mouth was absolutely perfect against you, but on the other hand, you couldn't quite take it anymore.

Your whines were of pleas to convince him to give you a break yet your hips insouciantly bucked up at his face. And fuck if all of it didn't drive Higuruma mad.

Nothing could top watching you lose yourself in the pleasure he was able to give you.

Well, except for you giving him a rather rude shove just as his tongue flicks over your overstimulated clit. The exhale you release is one of near exhaustion but he only takes that as encouragement.

Grabbing at your wrist and lifting his head away from your cunt for the first time in a while, his eyes meet yours with a perfectly ticked-off glare, “As much as I love your hands on me, gorgeous, you’re interrupting my meal.” His tone is low and raspy in a way that shows his vocal cords have been well saturated with your taste.

The moment of grace you're given directly after only comes because Higuruma is busy snatching the loose tie that's been hanging around his neck off, and then lifting over you and taking the both of your hands into his grasp. Crossing your wrists with one another, your lashes are cutely flopping whilst you peer up at him with pleasureful tears coating your waterline.

A few minutes later and you find your wrists tied up over your head 'n anchored to the bed.

Your voice comes out all shaky, "H-Haven’t you had enough?”

His eyes lazy flick up to you and for the first time, he crack a crooked, but genuine smile. Cocking his head to the left, "No one’s ever eaten you out properly, huh?” He asks as if he already knew it to be a fact.

Blinking, “…What gave you that impression?” You huff.

Higuruma scoffs and looks back down at the sopping spread of your pussy, admiring the way your slick oozes out of you in pretty glimmers. Before losing his train of thought, “The dumb question you just asked.” He soon shoots back to you.

Your brows furrow, “Hiro—“ Before the rest of his name can finish its departure from your tongue, he's diving back in and you're left moaning all over again, “F-Fuuck!”

The man was no longer eating you out as if starved, no. He was now feasting upon your sloppy folds with a prideful passion of greed guiding ever nasty swipe of his tongue.

It wasn't long before his fingers joined back into the fun, stuffing you nice 'n full to prepare you for the next way in which greed would express itself into you.

Through the entire time he spent satisfying his oral fixation for you, his poor, fat, neglected cock was left to sob out something creamy down below. His balls ached from the lack of stimulation but fuuuck if he wasn't gonna prioritize his cravings over what his body claimed it needed.

When he finally lets his head fly back—after watching you fall apart on his mouth for the nth time of the night—you see as he pants, as if he was the one who'd just been slut out on a mere finger and tongue combo.

Casually muttering, “I think she’s ready for me now," as he shifts back to sit on his heels and works the weight of his cock out from the damped fabric it's been confined in all this time.

Your head shakes slightly but your cunt is busy twitching with readiness—clearly matching his greed with some of her own. “I don’t think I can…" You tell him while he comes up to untie you. Never quite finishing your sentence, you end it off with a sheepish, "Hiromi...” to gain his attention on you.

As if it had ever left to begin with...

He arches a thick brow your way, “You don’t think you can, what?" Another cocky smile is bearing across his lips, "You talked such a big game earlier. Surely a little foreplay hasn’t worn you out already.”

Foreplay?? He just ate you out for two hours!!

At that, you roll your eyes and playfully scoff, “Oh, fuck you.”

He hums, “You’re about to,” and then slots a wet hand to your hip, tapping slightly with his instructions of, "Flip over.”

You do exactly that with utmost swiftness. No matter how many pouts you sent him or how bratty your words were, your body couldn't deny the incessant desire for him. That feeling has been buzzing through you all night and now was not the time to try 'n ignore it.

“Oh fuck,” Higuruma lightly smacks your ass as you roll over, helping you to get in position as he throws a leg over you and sandwiches your limbs together. Grinning at how ruined you are for him already, “S'this your type too? Having a stranger's big cock stretch you open jus' right after a long day? Hm?"

You're drooling from every hole already—reduced to nothing more than a wet, needy mess of a woman below the man you met only a few hours ago.

If he'd mentioned anything personal to you between the bar and now, you wouldn't be able to remember it by tomorrow. But the way he fucks? Oh, you'd be remembering that for weeks to come.

And how could you not? There's nothing more memorable than the swollen, plump rounds of his cockhead smearing in between your puffed pussylips—sweetly streeetching you open to take the rest of his length.

"Yesss, Higu'." Your voice is immediately moaned into a pillow as the soft material smushes against your face, back arching some. "This is my type t-too.. hahh, I love it."

You're obviously just babbling whatever you can in agreement with him, but he couldn't much care.

With a firm thrust of his hips, his cock slides in deep and you're biting down at the pillow already due to his raunchy tip slathering in a messy greeting. “God, you’re nasty.” He huffs out a breathless little chuckle, already losing his own mind from the warmth that's currently swallowing him, “I think I like that about you.”

“Mnngh-, y-you just like how good I feel.” You say back to him, feeling one hand hold your hip to lift it up a few centimeters as the other presses into the slope of your spine.

The arch he forces you into is just filthy and you're almost annoyed by how snuggly his cock fits because of it. Your salivating walls twitch and throb out to his shape, folds kissing his wide base with him just nesting in place for a moment.

He snorts, “No, I like this—how bratty you pretend to be.” Then his hand kindly flies up to the back of your head so he can shove your face down, and his hips are reeling back.

Shit.

Fingers slot through your hair just to grip at you nicely and his cock pivots left inside you, “All that talk just to get a good fucking as if a simple please wouldn’t have brought you the same results.”

“Hiro,” You moan breathlessly, fingers dug into the sheets for support and toes curling up as mindless pleasure washing over you in hefty waves.

“Ohhh, I know, I knowww, sweet girl.” He coos with a condescension that has you spilling glossy gushes around the thick of his shaft, each spill decorating his thumping veins. “Don’t cry like that, I’m just givin’ you what you wanted. You wanted me to fuck you like this, didn’t you?”

The weight of Higuruma comes over you next, smothering you into the mattress and having your entire body jump involuntarily. You don't know whether or not you cum or cry because of it, but either way your reaction is adding a certain wetness to the situation.

Then you're just nodding in an all too fucked-out manner, “M-Mhmmm.”

“Mhmmm, yeahhh, you did.” He mocks, hips rocking down into you tenderly so he can stir up your insides jus' right, “Now tell me it feels good—tell me it feels good to get what you wanted, c’monnn.”

Higuruma's words of encouragement are enough to make your mind go blank, “I-It feels s’good Hiro,” His thrust gets unintentionally sharper and you're still going, “Ngh! You feel s’good.”

“So do you,” His voice gets louder with base as the heat of his mouth slanders against the crown of your ear, “I’m tempted not to let you go.”

Him being addicted to you was the one thing both of you wanted to avoid, but the heat of the moment got the better of you and he feels how your pussy hugs him in reaction.

Licking at your skin, "You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He whispers.

“Uhuhhh.” You nod again.

“Use your words, hun. I can’t understand you when you mumble.” Fuck, you don't think you'll be lasting the number of rounds he had planned for you if he continues to speak like that. “C’mon, talk to me all pretty like you have been all night.”

“Yes, Hiromi.” You eventually mewl, “I-I’d love it if you-, ah! didn’t let me go.”

“Fuck, you’re so good for me.” He praises huskily, dick achingly hard within the sleek confines of your cunt, "Bet you want me to keep you around after this, just so you can get the cock you deserve whenever you want it, huh?"

Your body tries to inch away from the strong roll of his hips and how soppily his cockhead is lapping against your sweet spot, "Ohmygod," He easily follows your chaste movements by bucking into you. "M'gonna cum Hiromi."

His bottom lip pokes out to pout, "Aww, again? A little bit of talking really gets you there like this?" He asks as if he's not right there with you, his fat balls taut with the need to pump something sinful into you.

You're a complete mess and your mind is going all blank on you, "M-Mhm."

"M-Mhmmm," He mocks again, "My poor baby, when's the last time you were fucked properly?"

Cunt fluttering around him, "I-I don't-"

"Shhh, not you." A bulky arm comes wrapping around your frantically twitching frame and two fingers suddenly slide right into your gaping mouth. Voice still hot against your ear, his other arm snakes down so he can tap at your clit, "M'talking to my pretty girl down here."

And that is all it takes for you to choke on his fingers as you leave a splashing mess on him, eyes rolling back, back, back! until only the whites are showing.

Higuruma fucks you good. Talking right through your every orgasm as if he had no idea how to shut that filthy mouth of his, cooing and mocking you all through each mess.

You'd hadn't been fucked that good in so long, you're pretty sure you were the first one to tap out not too long after leaving a squirting slob of cum on him.

And Higuruma, ever the cunt-connoisseur, made sure to end the night by "lightly" licking you clean.

During that act is when you actually fall asleep and he's pretty sure you're the kinda woman he'll be thinking about for a while after this.

You may not have kept up with him fully—at least not to his standards of doing so—but he does appreciate how you allowed him the opportunity to slut you out exactly as he'd hoped to!

——

The morning after was nothing short of a blur. 

You departed without giving Higuruma much of a goodbye, but you’re hoping the little note you left with your phone number attached to it will be enough. Part of you felt bad knowing that he’d be waking up to a half empty bed—considering that’s definitely not what he fell asleep in—but the other part of you felt as though Higuruma may appreciate the lack of you in his arms, per not wanting to get too attached.

And bearing in mind the way things play out for you going forward, you’re sure the latter of your preferences are closer to validation.

Shoko had a field day upon hearing you recount your details of the night as you two exchanged stories during the flight, and it wasn’t long before you found yourself right back home.

The first day back to reality was a painful reminder of why you’d left in the first place. 

Walking into the lobby of your family’s company building for the first time in weeks was dreadful, to say the least. Employees greet you all politely as you pass, but their heads only dip in automatic acknowledgement of the chairman’s daughter—aka, you. It’s a fake routine you’ve grown both accustomed to and very tired of. 

Nothing real ever comes from these small interactions and the majority of the people in this building view you as some sort of pawn in your parent’s game. Which, unfortunately, is exactly what you come to find out you are.

You made way towards the elevator and mashed the button for the thirtieth floor, shutting your eyes for a moment to collect yourself and get your thoughts back into that working mindset. Your phone buzzed against your palm with a message from your father’s assistant, urging you to make your way to his office a little faster.

A sigh escapes you and with each floor you pass, you feel the weight of impending doom press into your shoulders. You'd hardly been home for more than twenty-four hours and you already wished you were back on vacation.

When the elevator doors finally open to your designated floor, the hallway outside your father's office is quietly expecting you. His assistant shoots up from her desk immediately.

"Miss," She greets ever so politely, a tremor of nerves caught in her voice as she does so. "He asked that you come in right away."

You wave a hand her way and let an unimpressed smile carve itself into your face, "I got your text, thanks."

You watch as she hurries over to the door and knocks once before peaking in to announce your arrival to the room. After which, you step right inside and watch your father's assistant give you nervous eyes just before the door shuts behind you.

As the soft click serves as the only sound in the room, you turn your attention elsewhere and immediately realize something is off.

Your father's seated behind his desk with his hands neatly folded together, a composed expression you only see when he's conducting board meetings plastered across his face.

In your head, you wondered if that was any way to greet one's child after not seeing them for a few weeks, but you suppose your father has never really viewed you as such. You've always been less of a daughter to him and more of a strategic asset liable to be moved at any point in time, for the betterment of the company.

While harsh, you—and everyone else around you—knew it to be true.

Before you or your father could greet one another outside of distasteful looks, the sight of some blonde man sitting in front of his desk makes your brows twinge up some more. You thought it weird that you were called here in such a hurry just for someone else to be there as well.

Your father notices where your eyes have gone and just as you open your mouth to say something, he's cutting you off with a gesture towards the empty chair beside the blonde stranger, "Sit down."

Whatever this was, you hated it already.

Not that your feelings stop you from doing as you're told, considering it was much too early to start an argument. The moment you seat yourself, you turn your head to get a better look at the man next to you.

Safe to say, you've never seen him before.

He seems tall, he's got these broad shoulders that are concealed only by the tailoring of his tan suit, and his facial features are sharper than ever. A fawning pair of brown eyes glance your way and gently meet yours, matching the concern and confusion etched into you.

It was clear that you weren't the only one curious about this sudden meeting.

"I've called you in here because there's an important matter we need to discuss regarding the future of the company," Your father says, snatching both the blonde man's attention and your own all in one go.

His statement is enough to have you feeling nervous but you do your best to steel your emotions until the real bullshit comes flying out of his mouth like you know it will soon.

Continuing on in that tiresome drawl, he looks directly at you, "As you know, our company has been in negotiations for several months with another firm concerning a potential merger."

You can't do much except nod your head slowly, "Right.."

Your father gestures to the man beside you, "This is Nanami Kento."

On queue, Nanami looks your way again and then moves his hand out for you to shake, "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Unfortunately for him and the respectfully offered handshake, you decline it rather rudely. Looking down at his open hand and then turning back to your father with a cocked brow. "And?" You ask, ready to get to the point of this meeting.

Nanami's hand remains outstretched for an awkward moment before he retracts it, pursing his lips together at the feel of embarrassment washing over him. Had he made such a bad impression on you already?

"The Nanami Group has agreed to the merger," Your father finally gets out, leading to your brows lifting in surprise.

Well, now you felt bad for declining the handshake...

"Oh." Glancing at Nanami again, you have a softer expression on your face as you go to apologize. "That's wonderful, I'm—"

You're cut off by the slow addition of, "On one condition." soothing into the air.

Your head whips back into your father's direction and whatever expression of excitement you had, drops with utmost quickness. "What condition?" You ask with a pointed look.

His eyes shoot down to his desk as if to avoid yours. "You're to marry him," He responds shortly, gesturing to Nanami as he speaks.

Aaaand there it was! The bandaid had finally been ripped off.

For a moment, you swear you heard the old man wrong. Surely he didn't just say you have to marry the man you just met less than five minutes ago?

"...Pardon?" You breathe out.

Your father maintains that eerie calmness of his, "The union between our families will solidify the partnership between our companies."

Some of his words mull through one ear and out the other because you're too busy trying to figure out whether or not this was really happening to you. 

The man who raised you was actively informing you that he'd basically sold you off for the amelioration of the family company.

You only manage to tune back into what he’s saying when he finds the gall to hum, "The merger between our families will then be finalized after the marriage produces an heir."

Across the desk, Nanami shifts slightly in his chair as he chokes—a clear sign that the conversation had become uncomfortable for someone other than just you.

Meanwhile, you manage yet another scoff, "You're joking."

"Not at all," Your father chirps, "The boards of both companies felt it would ensure a lasting partnership between our two families."

"Oh okay, so not only am I being married off," You begin slowly, "But I'm also expected to start producing corporate successors? I'm to be married and bred, all in one go."

You watch the way he rolls his eyes and gestures a hand out to wave, diminishing both your words and your feelings, "You make it sound so harsh. This agreement merely ensures stability between both families.” He claims before adding, “A-And you've already agreed to it.”

The stammer in his voice told you more than enough. You knew right then that whatever agreement he was referring to was probably born out of some form of manipulation or miscommunication.

Blinking, "I beg your finest pardon?"

A document is slid your way just as your question finishes off.

"Years ago,” Your father nods, “During the board's succession program. You remember.”

No the fuck you don’t.

Well, you do. But you definitely don’t recall signing your consent to this arrangement.

You know what he’s talking about took place when you’d first joined the family business but, at the time, he’d told you that the documents you were signing was "standard procedure for future executives in family companies"

Now you're seeing that this wasn't the case at all.

Silly you for thinking it was all just meaningless paperwork.

As you snatch up the document, you notice your signature sitting clear as day across the bottom. Shaking your head, "Nowhere on this does it say that I'm supposed to be—"

"Clause seventeen." Your father directs.

Your eyes narrow as they flock there immediately.

In the event that the chairman determines a strategic marital alliance beneficial to the company, the undersigned consents to participate in such union for the purpose of securing corporate stability and lineage...

Your gaze stops for a moment, jaw agape and heart clenching up in your chest. Especially as you continue reading to see that it only gets worse.

...The parties involved acknowledge the expectation of producing a direct heir to reinforce the partnership between two family entities.

"Oh you've got to be fucking kidding me." You scoff.

"Language." Your bastard of a father has the nerve to scold, leaning back in his chair with a casual creak. Shrugging, "You signed it willingly."

That sentence alone is enough to start an argument between the two of you that stretches on for at least thirty minutes. All of which Nanami sits there listening rather uncomfortably due to feeling like he’s overhearing things he really shouldn’t be.

You bring up past family issues and the current relationship between your mother and father—scolding the old man for doing the same thing to you as was done to him years ago. Arranged marriages shouldn’t be some type of tradition in your family but with the way things are looking now, that seems to be what was becoming of it.

Despite his discomfort, Nanami sits there in awe of you. When his parents informed him that he’d be marrying a woman he’d never met, he didn’t even think to argue with them the way you are with your father now.

And he hadn’t even seen you yet!

Part of him supposes that’s because he was raised differently than you—having been told from a young age that his role in his family matters little to nothing if the future of their company isn’t his top priority. Whatever childhood dreams he had were crushed a long time ago and replaced with only the thought of doing what’s best for the company, even if that now meant marrying a woman he knew nothing about.

But seeing you now…

Nanami knew then that knowing nothing about you wouldn't matter much longer. The mix of passion and honest frustration you so openly expressed towards your father directly in front of him was nothing short of endearing to the blonde witness.

And by the time you flung that signed document back into your father’s face and went storming out the room, Nanami was certain he’d fall for you even if you swore never to look his way.

Which is why he shoots up to his feet just as the door slams behind you, ignoring the way your father murmurs something to him about not bothering to chase after you, and giving the man a curt nod before doing exactly that.

As Nanami opens the door, he spots you making way for the elevator and does his best to keep up with you without looking like he intended to follow you (even though he did).

Like a lost puppy of sorts, he trails behind you and enters the elevator alone with you just before the doors begin to shut.

His eyes fall to the way you’re mashing at the button to another floor—trying not to chuckle at the way you accidentally press seven other buttons to various floors in the process. His posture stiffens up as you side eye him sharp enough for him to feel it, and he worries that following you in here may not have been in his best interest.

…Even though he wanted to speak to you after witnessing everything.

Lifting a fist to his lips, Nanami clears his throat. The elevator begins its slow, creaky descent and he keeps his gaze fixated straight ahead as he breaks the silence, “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t pity me,” You breathe out without thinking, immediately regretting the harshness of your voice. 

His shoulders tense up at how immediate your response was, heart skipping a beat now that your aggravations were being directed towards him. Even his face was getting warm like you’d complimented him or something.

A quiet moment passes before you slowly release a sigh, “While it’s appreciated, I’m afraid your sorry is worth nothing to me.”

Nanami nods, “Understood.” His single word of comprehension soothes your nerves over juuuust a tad. Then, he glances over to you—appreciating the side of your face, “I hope you know I had as much control in this as you did.”

You didn’t have any control in this—obviously—so his words provided a light sense of comfort to you. Meeting his gaze, you lift a brow at him, “Your parents see you as a means for breeding just as mine do, I’m assuming?”

His mouth opens but you watch the way they twitch as your bluntness throws him off. Clearing his throat again, his eyes darted off, “That’s uh… That’s one way to put it.”

“Well,” You huff, turning to face forward, “At least I’m not alone in that regard.”

Nanami doesn’t say it, but he hopes to find more regards to comfort you in as time passes. While the marriage itself isn’t what he wanted in the slightest, he can’t find it in himself to complain after his eyes have taken you in.

He’s never believed in love at first sight and he knew for sure this wasn’t that but… there was something about you that had him thinking all of this would be worth it in the end, somehow.

——

The next few days, weeks, and soon months of preparation feel like you’ve entered an unimaginable level of Hell.

You were trying your best not to be a drama queen, but you can’t exactly help yourself when the announcement of your engagement was merely the tip of the iceberg.

Due to your outburst in your father’s office that day, he thought it best to have you and Nanami constrained into the same home for some time before you two were to be wed. 

The apartment you resided in beforehand had been purchased and provided under the family company, but now that you were forcefully engaged and clearly not fond of it—it was in both company’s best interest to have you and Nanami grow used to each other in one way or another. So, in other words, shoving the two of you into some house together with curfews and security placed all around simply made sense.

Living with Nanami wasn’t the worst thing in the world since he’s nothing short of a gentleman, but you still hated every waking hour of it.

Your father may have been able to drive you into a relationship and a home with some stranger but he couldn’t force you to interact with the man so, you didn’t!

There was one bedroom designated for the two of you but Nanami insisted that you sleep there and he take the guest bedroom down the hall so that you’d be somewhat comfortable. You appreciated that much from him but it didn’t stop you from avoiding him at all costs.

Even if he was the first face you were greeted with every morning, even if you two had silent dinners together, even if you were forced to head to work together, and even if you quite literally could not escape the damn man—you refused to open up to him.

He could put a ring on your finger and a baby inside you directly after, and yet you remained firm with your decision to never pretend to be happy in your impending marriage.

Nanami of course is fine with whatever you decide to do. He would accept your comfort over fake happiness any day. 

So if he had to stomach scolding from both his parents and yours about how the two of you are the most awkward couple ever to be seen—he’d do it a thousand times over knowing that you’re content with the way things are.

The concept of distant lovers proved itself in the most outward way through you and Nanami. While labeling the two of you as “lovers” without the addition of its artificial origins is quite the stretch, neither of you could pretend that nothing existed between you.

Especially on Nanami’s end.

He understood that your distaste toward him came from the lack of control you had in your being together, but no matter how he looked at it, he couldn’t bring himself to care at the same level you did. Not when he was so utterly enamoured by all that you are.

You distracted him from the realities of this compulsory relationship. He knew he was attracted to you from the day you walked in that office, hardly spared him a glance, and proceeded to curse your father out right in front of him.

Then there was how snappy you’d been after, how tense you looked every time you and him occupied the same room, and how distant you keep yourself nowadays.

Nanami knows he should be on the same page as you—protesting against this union through refusing to get close to you and keeping things strictly cordial.

But… he can’t.

There’s a stubborn thump of longing in his heart that’s highlighted for him every time you enter a room, his eyes find you in every crowd, and he feels himself wanting nothing more than to gently wipe the stress right off that pretty face of yours.

He swears he could do it too—if you’d let him.

Unfortunately, you’re far more stubborn than he is when it comes to matters of the heart. In the few personal conversations the two of you have just barely managed to have, he can tell your mind is constantly elsewhere. Constantly distant.

You could be sitting a few feet away from him, looking him directly in the eyes, and actively engaging in conversation with him but he can still see that something-, or someone else is on your mind.

And of course he doesn’t know it but that’s another issue for you.

How can you be expected to get close with Nanami on your own accord when Higuruma is still lingering around in your mind?

Perhaps it was because being with him was the last time you got to do something for yourself. Or maybe it was the simple fact that the night with Higuruma still replays in your head while you’re at your most vulnerable. Or, even worse, possibly it’s the way that man hasn’t reached out to you once and how much that bothers you.

How fair is it that you’re still thinking about him all this time later as your life is falling apart and yet he’s probably not doing the same at all, considering the way he refuses to contact you?

Was that single night with him really not enough to have him wanting more? Had you meant so little to him because you were a mere stranger? Would you ever see him again—and if you did, would he even rejoice in the reconnection?

At some point, you find that the more you let thoughts of Higuruma plague you, the further you distance yourself from your fiancé. While that was your preferred outcome, you felt that it wasn’t fair to Nanami to have someone else on your mind like this.

It was one thing to avoid him out of parental rebellion but it was another thing entirely to do so because of another man who’d clearly forgotten about you some time ago.

——

Hence why you allow yourself one day to try getting to know Nanami about seven months into your engagement to him.

Yes, seven months in. That’s seven months of dry conversation, seven months of stubborn avoidance, seven months of trying to prove to your parents that you’d never be happy in this, and seven months of Nanami suffering from feeling his heart long for you more and more despite the lack of reciprocation.

While the change is certainly unexpected on his end, he doesn’t shoot down the opportunity to get somewhere personal with you for once.

You woke up that day telling yourself that if he started a conversation with you, you wouldn’t be as dismissive as you usually are with him. When you ran into him in the hallway first thing that morning, you greeted him with a smile that made his heart skip several beats.

Not only was it unfair for you to have neglected him for so long—for reasons outside of your parents and the overall dynamic of your relationship—but it was also unfair how much of an effect you seemed to have on the man. 

His cheeks hued a soft shade of pink upon being greeted so kindly and the awkward little murmur of good morning wishes that came your way in response had you feeling rather good about your new little plan.

Perhaps giving Nanami a chance wouldn’t be so bad after all. Maybe you wouldn’t have to fake being happy for the entirety of your being with him. Though, you know deep down that’s exactly what your parents wanted from the get go.

At least it’ll be on your own terms though, right?

The entire day of giving Nanami a chance goes by at a normal pace. You share a breakfast with him instead of skipping out on it and starving yourself for half the day as you normally do, the two of you not only head to work together but you’re also spotted acting like an actual couple for once, and the day later concludes on quite the sweet note.

Which brings you to the end of said day where you’re just pushing away from the dinner table and helping Nanami to collect the dishes and carry them off to the kitchen. He gentlemanly takes your plate before you could even turn with it and leads the way, to which you slowly follow after.

This is where the real rare part came in. Before today, you’d always bid him goodnight after sitting in uncomfortable silence and forking at food you hardly had a taste for. But now—now that you’d spent the day trying something different—you figured you shouldn’t let things end as they normally do.

Nanami has moved to wash the dishes by the time you enter the kitchen, and you come to lean against the counter to watch him. He caught on to your change in attitude earlier that day, so it doesn't surprise him too much to see you changing other things in your routine like this.

“Thank you for today,” He starts out easily, sponge in hand and skin soaked up to his wrists with soapy water.

Your brows twinge at that almost instantly, “You don’t have to thank me for that, Kento.”

Ah, the sound of his name on your tongue has never been sweeter. 

Nanami’s hands are still against the submerged dishes, and you catch the way his shoulders tighten ever so slightly before relaxing again. Then he shakes himself out of his surprise, “I do though,” He says a moment after, his voice a tinge quieter. “It meant more than you think.”

His delicately spoken words have you seeing things from a new perspective for once. You’d spent all this time so wrapped up in being trapped in a relationship that you nearly forgot he was just as trapped as you were. It’s not like he signed up for this, the only difference between you and him was the fact that his parents spent their whole time raising him into being exactly what he was now: a product of marriage for the company.

Meanwhile you had been blindsided by your parents for years.

When you take everything into consideration, you realize both you and Nanami are living on two different sides of the same coin. During the past few months you spent resenting him as much as you did your situation, you’d been incredibly lonely and now you wonder if he’d felt that way his entire life.

To be raised the way he was is nothing short of cruel, but at least with this engagement he wouldn’t have to live in that cruelness all alone—so long as you take the blame off his shoulders and replace it with a feeling of understanding. To be trapped in a relationship is one thing, but to be trapped in a relationship with Nanami Kento doesn’t have to be as horrid as you’ve spent months convincing yourself it would be.

The kitchen you both occupy is calm now that his thanks has settled into the air. Sounds of dishes clinking softly, the warm water splashing against his skin, and the distant hum of your shared home gave you a domestic feel for a mere moment

Your eyes find Nanami, quietly admiring his acute focus on getting those plates and utensils clean. You knew this from the day you met him but, he was never a bad looking man. Hell, he had a list of redeemable qualities.

Months you’ve spent living alongside him, existing in the same space, eating across from him, and yet this feels like the first time you’ve allowed your eyes the liberty of lingering with no resistance. Between your appreciative glances, something of guilt swells up inside you—as if you weren’t supposed to be looking at him like this after spending so long ignoring him.

But at the same time, he is your husband-to-be.

You push yourself away from the counter and then round it, still taking all of his build in for the first time. His back is the first thing that yanks at your attention as you pace somewhere behind him.

Gaze tracing the line of his back, you notice how structured and broad it is—a feature you noted upon first sight of him in your father’s office before. The tension of the day rests clearly in his posture and the way he holds himself upright. His dress shirt pulls across his shoulders whilst his hands busy against those dishes and you nearly walk into the opposing counter-side when the fabric stretches just enough to tease at something bulky resting beneath.

You swallow thickly and turn your head away sharply to distract yourself.

Because you’re standing behind him, you miss how he grins to himself—having felt your eyes on him, but not daring to comment on it. He’d acknowledged the same thing you did: the two of you are engaged and fully allowed to gawk at one another.

Nanami had indulged in it more times than he’d probably ever admit to you, unable to focus on anything else whenever you’re around.

With the way you’d turned your head away to stop yourself from drooling over a man you willingly ignored for far too long, you notice a small radio tucked neatly into a corner. Curiosity quickly gets the better of you and you snatch the item right up into your hands.

Toying with the buttons rather cluelessly, you wonder why Nanami’s got a radio sitting in the kitchen when you’ve never heard the man play music a day in your life.

Even though you’ve been avoiding him like the plague for as long as you’ve known him…

You’re not sure what exactly you press but something soft begins to leave the radio and you're quick to locate what appears to be the volume knob, turning it and letting the sound of Be Like a Woman replace those domesticated noises that were starting to get to you moments ago. 

It’s a little staticky at first, just barely crackling the song to life with grainy distortion before the device remembers its own function and plays out smoothly.

The moment your ears pick it up, you smile to yourself and fall into a slow sway.

Behind you, the sound of running water comes to a steady stop. You don’t turn right away as the music settles fully, wrapping around you and your idle sways to it.

As if delighted by the tune, Nanami’s eyes locate you from over his shoulder with passive quickness.

It takes you a moment or two before you glance back at him, spotting an outstretched hand, and then biting back a smile at the implication. “You can’t be serious.” You murmur, even though you’d already set the tone for dancing.

“Humor me,” Nanami hums, a kind smile working wonders at turning your heart to mush. “One dance won’t kill you, will it?”

You continue to gape at his hand as if it’d go away without you saying something. Sighing, you’re careful with the way you bring your eyes up to meet his.

This is what you wanted, isn’t it? To try?

“I suppose not.” You respond while moving to take his hand and let him gently bring you closer. 

His palm is moist from the water he’d hastily dried off and it tightly locks against your own. Then as he guides you toward himself, his other hand lifts before stopping just short of your waist. There’s a question and request for consent in his eyes—to which you grant by looking down at his not-yet-connecting hand, and then back up at his face to nod.

Nanami’s touch eases into your side and both of your bodies sway right into one another. Your free hand finds his shoulder to rest on, and just like that the two of you are dancing.

It’s naturally a mix of slow ‘n awkward at first but what makes it an act to relish in is the way you both feel the romance bundling about.

The subtle clumsiness of it all is enough to make you break eye contact first, looking off to the side as you sway together. That is, before Nanami tilts his head toward the direction you’ve focused your attention into and whispers, “You’re good at this.”

God, his voice was much too endearing for you to ignore—especially all close to you like this. You shake your head and let your eyes roll playfully, “We’re just swaying back and forth, it doesn’t take much skill.”

Nanami chuckles at that and you feel your heart thumping a little louder. "Then I suppose I shouldn't be too proud of myself," He murmurs.

You release a soft huff, the sound light and easygoing—much unlike how the two of you have been for months.

Your bodies continued in their dance with one another, everything steady and close as the music continued to envelop you.

Soon your hand shifts slightly on his shoulder, fingers brushing the fabric of his shirt and feeling how firm he is beneath it.

Nanami's reaction is near-immediate.

He inhales sharply to show that the touch had clearly caught him off guard, composure thinning by the second. Then his jaw tightens a bit and you see a faint flush creeping in along the highest points of his cheekbones.

Cute.

Unable to control your grin, "Kento..?" You murmur.

Instead of answering right away as he usually does, Nanami seems to be lost in thought before he responds. His hand tightens at your waist just a faction and his mouth is slow to open and close with words struggling to leave him.

"I've uh..." He starts, only to stop shortly after.

You're patient with him and give no sense of hurry with how you're staring up at him.

Clearing his throat, "I've wanted to do this for a while." Nanami admits quietly, eyes dropping.

Your brows raise, "What, dance with me?"

His gaze flickers and something in between shy and utterly embarrassed flashes over him. The way he shakes his head all slowly makes you want get the sudden desire to bite him or something.

"...No," The honesty in his singly spoken word makes your chest clench.

Swallowing thickly, "Then what?" You ask.

Your dancing gets impossibly slower and you're left to realize just how close you two are. Breaths are shared, gazes are locked onto everything but one another's, and it's almost like the music had stopped playing just to highlight the mirroring beats of your hearts.

Nanami's head tips to the side and he leans in, stopping just short of pressing his lips to yours, and leaving your breath to hitch.

Were you really gonna let him kiss you? That easily?

His lips graze yours and you're unconsciously gripping onto both his hand and his shoulder with something anxious building inside you. You didn't realize how badly you wanted this until it was—quite literally—dangling in front of your face.

“May I?” He utters, oh-so-sure your rejection will be what follows.

To his surprise, you’re already nodding.

And then it happens. Then his lips are meeting yours and you're feeling the way he flinches as if he hadn't initiated the whole thing.

Something vibrates inside his mouth but you're unsure whether or not it's a hum or some sort of whine. Nanami kisses you in a tentative way, testing something delicate with every soft slip of his mouth to yours.

Your hands leave each other and he carefully wraps the both of his arms around you as your arms do the same with his neck.

For a first kiss with the man you've been engaged to for seven months—it's not exactly what you expected.

Nanami is surprisingly shy with it, almost as if he doesn't know what the hell he's doing. Because of this, you're guiding him through most. of it and he's blindly following your lead.

Even so, the kiss is quite sweet, and when you pull away, your eyes widen out at how much he's blushing.

You didn't know a man's face could go so red from a single kiss. Especially a kiss without tongue. You hardly did anything!

When Nanami's eyes open, they meet with yours briefly in hopes you won't comment on how embarrassed he seems to be.

Luckily for him, you find the hues of pinks and reds on his face endearing enough to move your hands up to his face and cup his cheeks into your palms. He's warm against your skin and you hear his breath stutter when you pull him in for another kiss.

It's clear that you never really know how badly you wanted or needed something until you have it.

This time around, the kiss is needy. Your lips part over one another and he lets you slip your tongue into his mouth, groaning at the connection, and pressing forward with you until your lower back meets the nearby counter.

Nanami keeps kissing you like he doesn't know how to, but you find yourself enjoying the liberty of leading him through it.

That is, until he grunts into your mouth and you feel something solid twitching against your front. You try to ignore it at first, telling yourself there's no way he popped a boner from kissing you, but that grows increasingly difficult as his hulking frame melts into you entirely.

You nibble on his lower lip a little, whispering, "Kento.." as if ready to scold him.

Nanami panics. Fuck, why do you choose now of all times to call out his name? He's already trying his best not to cu-

"Are you hard?" You ask.

Fuck. Why would you ask him that? Can you feel it? Has he accidentally rubbed up against you?

"U-Uhm-," Nanami chokes on his own breath. "I-, what?"

You snort.

There's no way you find this funny, right?

"I asked if you were hard," You repeat nonchalantly, caressing his face, "Did kissing me like that turn you on?"

"Well.. uh," He gapes at you like one big himbo, "I-Is it that obvious...?"

Now you're giggling, "I mean, I can feel it."

"Sorry," He looks down to avoid getting even more turned on from the way you're staring at him. "I told you I've been wanting to do this for a while and-, well... I didn't mean to get so excited from it, sorry."

"You don't have to apologize for it, Ken." You comfort sweetly.

The nickname makes his situation worse by a long shot, sticky dribbles of precum promptly oozing out of his blushing tip. God, did you have any idea what you were doing to him?

With the way you remove an arm from around his neck and begin to trail your hand down his body, it's clear that you most certainly did. "I just didn't expect you to be so reactive like that," Your tone is different now.

Something sultry is in your voice and it's making poor Nanami nervous beyond belief.

He'd never gone this far with a woman.

Shrugging, "Well, most virgins are rather sensitive to touch, I'm sure." Nanami says timidly.

Your hands freeze against him and you blink. "You're a virgin?"

He nods.

The way he kept avoiding eye contact with you, the sound he let out when you initially kissed him, and the way he flinched at your touch shifting earlier all make so much sense now.

“Does that... turn you off?" Nanami asks, voice airy. "Me not being experienced?”

“What? No, of course not!” You pull him closer and then push up to peck at his mouth, “If we’re really getting married then, I’ll take care of you, Kento.”

That makes his head spin with dizziness and his cock throb. So much so that he's hardly even thinking straight as he asks, “You want to wait?”

You blink again. “You.. don’t?”

Because of the nature of your relationship, you always just assumed Nanami would prefer to wait 'til marriage, and now that he's admitted to you that he's a virgin, you were sure on that fact more now than ever.

You never had a preference of when sex between you two happened since you spent most of your time failing to think of a way out of this engagement.

“I’m sure our parents would prefer it if we did.” Nanami tells you.

Oh.

It was true, both of your parents would probably prefer the two of you doing things the more "traditional" way, but with that rebellious streak still lingering inside you...

“Perhaps we shouldn’t, then.” Flies out of your mouth without second thought as you're pressing up on him—tits neat against his chest.

“I agree.” Nanami rushes out, thinking only with what's drooling in between his legs right now instead of his head. “Let’s have something for ourselves."

——

And have something for yourselves you did.

While one would think that after a softly whispered claim such as that, the two of you would end up fucking like feral beasts within the next few minutes… that’s not quite how Nanami loses his virginity to you.

Instead, you two agree not to do anything that night.

Nanami mentioned something about not being ready for it by the time you both made it to the bedroom, but in actuality, he was a bit fearful to have sex. He told himself that kissing you would be enough for the time being, and you went right along with it.

…Until the following morning, that is.

Now, after you and Nanami finally seemed to resolve whatever thick walls of tension had been between you both, you took it upon yourself to share a bed with him. Nanami, having been crushing on you from the moment he laid eyes on you, would’ve been a fool to deny you of your wish to do so when you’d asked.

Which is exactly how you two ended up in the position you’re in now—snuggled up together in what used to be his bedroom but would soon be shared between you both.

Nanami remembers vividly how he told you he wanted to wait to take things to the next level but that request seems to have been tossed right out the window as he stirs awake first. He’d always been one to think with what’s in his head instead of what’s in his pants but it seems a simple night of sleeping in the same bed as you is enough to change things for him.

This isn’t the first time he’s woken up with a troublesome throb coming from in between his legs—especially not since he’s been living with you—but it’s downright ironic how he just told you he wanted to wait and now his body was desiring otherwise.

Nanami keeps his eyes shut for a while, hoping his boner would magically go away before you wake up.

Unfortunately for him, you don’t even have to wake up for his situation to get worse.

His eyes end up shooting open as a soft breath of air flutters against his naked chest, making him keenly aware of your resting face smushed up against him. Then other sensations occur; the scent of your shampoo trickles up into his nose, your chest snuggly presses into his side, and your entire leg has been thrown over him somewhere in your sleep.

His gaze lifts up to the ceiling in hopes he can ignore how those combined factors do nothing more for him than lead his cock to weep small dribbles of precum against his sweatpants. 

Nanami had gone to sleep in only his sweats due to the fact that you’d already been in his room by the time he got in the shower last night. He never found an appropriate time to slip in to grab the boxers he’d conveniently forgotten, so now he was dealing with his tip leaving a prominent wet spot against the grey fabric concealing his erection.

Fuck, he’s sure if you were to open your eyes now, you’d be met with the nasty sight. The worst part about it is the fact that you laying on top of him is only making it worse by the second because his brain just won't shut up.

He can’t help but wonder how you’d react seeing him like this—knowing you’re the reason he gets so uncomfortably hard. Would you scold him for it? Tell him off and call him a perv even after the lighthearted events of last night?

Or would you comfort him? Show him another side of you he’s only ever dreamed of seeing?

Either way he knows he’s screwed since his cock twitches at both thoughts. 

And then you shift.

The hand you had laying idle on his chest slides down a little and his dick bobs its thick head up against his sweats. Being so sensitive to your touch was faring much worse for him than he expected it to.

Your head moves a bit as you stir awake and Nanami’s heart is pounding so hard in his chest that he wonders if you can feel it. You turn to groggily look at him, immediately met with his half-lidded eyes meeting yours as the morning sunlight highlights the flush decorating his cheeks.

You blink a few times before mumbling, “Morning Ken.”

The arm Nanami’s had comfortably wrapped around you grips you ever so slightly. Then he whispers back to you, “Good morning, love.”

Warmth settles into your heart at the sound of that.

“Are you okay? Your face is all red,” You point out, lifting your hand away from his chest and up to feel his forehead.

“I’m fine,” He lies, knowing you’re just one glance down from realizing he’s everything but.

You nod though, moving to sit halfway up and extend your arms over your head to stretch. Nanami watches you carefully, having spent night after night dreaming he’d wake up to this very sight.

Seeing you wearing a shirt of his because you were too lazy to go grab one of your own last night, gaze following how the fabric hugs you—Nanami is forced to adjust his hips a bit.

He feels utterly perverted staring at you like this while his mind works up the most sinful imaginations of you so early in the morning.

You’re likely about to depart from his room and yet he’s laying there wondering how your hands would feel exploring every inch of him.

“Kento,” He flinches at the abrupt utterance of his name. Then he focuses his attention back onto your face and notices where your eyes have finally fallen. “Do you uhm,” You point at his crotch, “Do you want help with that?”

Something especially wet slides down the side of his cock—as if he were literally drooling from his tip. Glancing down at himself, then back up at you, “You can ignore it if you want. I just—“

“I don’t wanna ignore it, though.” You admit, leaning closer to him.

Nanami’s breath catches for a moment and he tries to sit up, only to be stopped by your hand meeting his chest and lightly pushing him back down. Eyes softening on you, “What are you doing?”

“I told you I’d take care of you last night, didn’t I?” You remind him.

He gulps, “Yes but… I didn’t think you’d want to do something like this. It’s embarrassing and..."

As he speaks, your hand is traveling down the smooth, yet firm board of his abs—feeling him tense 'n twitch the lower your touch gets.

It's not until you're playing with the drawstrings of his sweats that he lets out a rather submissive noise. "...A-Are you really going to touch that?" Nanami squeaks.

You smile at him innocently, "Touch what?"

The usual base in his voice is all but lost as he gulps, "My cock."

"We agreed to have something for ourselves," Your fingers halt against his drawstrings and then slip under the fabric, skimming over the light tufts of blonde hair just above his base. "So unless you want me to stop, I should like to have this for myself."

Nanami shakes his head slowly, chest rising and falling as his nervousness runs rampant throughout his body, "N-No, don't stop."

Those words are exactly what lead you to jerking your fiancé off on that slow morning, eventually working his cock out of his sweats and kissing at his flushed skin as your hand travels up 'n down his length.

It was more intimate than it was inherently sexual up until Nanami began returning the favor. In the middle of your lips locking against his, you felt a hand creep in between your legs—palming your pussy just to feel how wet you got from jerking him off.

As Nanami's big hand lightly squeezed and then rubbed over you through the cottony shorts you were clad in, you both began to pant heavily into one another's mouth.

The room got hotter and both of you got needier, your thumb teasing his sobbed tip as it traveled through his slit, and his hand wasting no time in locating your core without all the measly fabrics in the way.

He hadn't even seen you and yet he was muttering into your mouth, “God, you’re gorgeous..." Two long fingers gliding up 'n down your leaky entrance, “I’ve thought this from the moment I met you.”

“Mgh-, Kento,” You gasped in return, your hand growing shaky around his dick whilst your wet lips messily detached from his.

Nanami may have been unexperienced and shy but the second half of that seemed to go out the window the moment he felt how aroused you were. "Can I feel how gorgeous you are in here?" He politely asked, fingertips rounding your oozy hole and daring to slip inside.

As you nod, he watched your face intently to see your expression twist up in response to his digits greeting your warmth. Then your hand had tightened around his cock and he hissed out some sort of low curse.

It wasn’t long before the two of you were making a mess around each other’s hand. But that didn’t seem to be enough for either of you—especially not Nanami who’d been waiting for this day for months.

When you soon strip what’s left of your clothes off, tossing them across the room, and then throwing your leg over his body to straddle him, he gapes up at you in pure awe.

There’s nothing sexier than watching the woman he’d silently fallen for get on top of him with such a starved look in her eye.

And the way you move to grab his cock—angling it against your cunt and furrowing your brows with great focus—has his jaw left open. Drool slips out the corner of his mouth and nothing can compare to watching you slooowly sink down on him.

Nanami never thought himself to be big or anything like that, but considering the way you struggle and flinch as he enters you…

He nearly gets nervous all over again before your head tips back and you slip further down, fluttering walls swallowing him in thankfully with a sloshy squelch ringing out upon each quivering inch.

“Kento,” You husk out, moving one hand to his lower abdomen for support just as he grabs at your waist.

“You say my name so sweetly,” Nanami compliments with sweat causing his blond hairs to cling to his forehead. Eyes batting up, “Does… Does it feel good?” He nearly moans, “Do I feel good inside you?”

You’d thought it be obvious based on the whorish way in which your face is twisting up—tears coating your waterline from the long stretch of his cock.

Each time you think you’ve met his deft base, you found yourself still traveling down on him. Nanami’s cock stood up straight with no curve, giving you nonexistent room to run or escape his sheer size.

“Uhuh, yes,” You eventually whimper.

He seems a little unconvinced below you, “You keep squirming, though. Are you sure?”

“Kento,” You lock eyes with him and his cock twitches against the lathering edges of your inner walls, “You feel fuckin’ perfect inside me.”

“O-Oh.” Then his hips snap upwards uncontrollably, and your body jerks along with it as you moan out. “Sorry,” Nanami huffs, repeating the movement despite his apology, “Fuck-, sorry. You feel s-so good-, ngh.. so wet ‘n warm.”

It was almost like he couldn’t help himself. As soon as he heard your praise and saw the way his your cunt lips bulged around the very wide ‘n thumping base of his cock, his hips moved on their own.

He was fucking himself up into you and watching how pretty your tits looked bouncing along with the rest of your body before he knew it.

Hearing you cry out, “Kentoo! Nngh, right there.”

“There? Do I feel good there?” He asked, punctuating his words with a sharp thrust.

Your goopy insides gobble up everyyyy inch of him so perfectly that he feels like he’ll cum in you without realizing it any second now. Especially as you begin to rock your hips along with him, gaining your own momentum and fucking yourself down on him to further paint his cock with filthy traces of your slick.

“Hahh, your hips won’t stop moving,” Nanami grunt, brows taut together, “Do you like my cock that much?”

His only response to that is a wild throb around him.

To which he smirks briefly, “S’that-, hahh.. S’that supposed to be a yes?"

Left to whine helplessly, your hands clasp over his wrists and he maneuvers them to hold them instead as you nod.

“Say it then,” Nanami hums, “I want to hear more of you, instead of her.”

Her..? Your brows furrow, “Wha—“

Oh. As Nanami’s thumb darts across your clit, you understand quickly what he meant.

“F-Fuuck,” You moan, “Yes-, just like that, Ken’.”

Something pitiful ‘n creamy gushes up into you but neither of you really acknowledge it.

“Yeah? Fuck,” Nanami curses lowly, his pupils dilated out, “More, p-praise me more… Please?”

Your fingers clench at the skin of his large hands, hips rolling back ‘n forth with needy vigor as his dick knocks around every nook of your cunt.

“Ken, s’good. Ah! You’re doin’ so good for me,” You praise all prettily, head tilting a little once you realize he’s left most of the movement to you, “J-Just-, mngh! Just go a little harder. You can be rough with me.”

His eyes soften, “Are you sure? I don’t want to-“

“Kento.” You scold, “Fuck me.”

That flips a switch in Nanami’s head and you lose the hand holding with him as he grabs ahold of your body and promptly flips you over. Your back clashes into the fluff of the bed and he slips out of you for a second too long, hurrying to stretch at your wet core once more.

“Is that it? S’that how you want me, sweetheart?” Nanami heaves with a different look in his eyes. Before you can even answer him, he’s got two fingers pulling your pussylips apart to watch that glossy, debauched sight of his cock entering you again. “Yeahhh, this is how you like it. Goddd, I’ve fantasized about this, y’know.”

Your legs are captured into his hands within the next moment and he’s got you in a meann mating press as if to prove a point. It’s almost like your little permission of a harder fucking had challenged him or something.

Nanami’s voice sticks against your ear, “Got off just thinking about how good it’d feel inside you and n-now—“ Both your body and the bed jolt up with his rude thrusting, the mushroomy head of his dick kissing at your sweet spot, “Fuck, now I’m in here.”

“Uhuhhh,” Your jaw slacks and you’re the one drooling as if fucked-out now.

He lifts his head for a moment just to hold eyes with you. Whispering, “Deep in here too, huh?”

You pout, “D-Don’t get cocky.”

“I’m just being honest, look.” His hand moves to splay out against the fat bulge of his cock nestled inside of you.

You moan, nibbling at your bottom lip to conceal a slutty little smile, "Yeah, but you also-, mmh.. you also came inside me."

Nanami smiles back at you for realizing he’d already experienced an orgasm, "Hahh.. accidents happen..”

"No, you meant to do that,” You tease back with your arms wrapping around his neck.

"I have an obligation to breed my girl, do I not?" With that, another load is being french kissed against your womb, globs and globs of an impossibly thicker substance filling you.

You tug him down for a kiss and your lips tangle against one another as you whisper into his groans, "I suppose you do."

——

It would’ve been lovely if that intimate morning was the very thing that solidified your relationship with Nanami. The days after were filled with a more loving relationship, leading both of you to assume things from there on out would work.

And it should’ve! It really, really should’ve.

But you were forgetting one rather important factor.

It was foolish for you to think life was gonna let you fall for another man without throwing a surprise at you.

The following days after you and Nanami finally seemed to break down whatever walls were being held up between you, something changed.

You noticed Nanami on his phone more often, heard him chuckling on calls at inappropriate hours of the night, and caught a newfound light lingering in his eyes as if you and someone else were brightening his every day.

Now, you know Nanami wouldn’t be dumb enough to have an affair going on during his engagement to you—especially when he’s the one who had less of a problem with the arranged marriage to begin with. But, at the same time, he started to act differently.

Not with you, of course. Just… with everything else.

He almost seemed happier in some ways. You wanted to rejoice in the positive energy he radiated now, but there was a shadow of doubt casting over you at every turn.

Something bad was on the uprise.

And that something rears its ugly head on the day Nanami calls you out to help a “friend” of his move into the city.

You almost said no—and maybe you should’ve—but with the way he asked all soft ‘n hopefully like he just wanted to include you in more parts of his life now that you two were somewhat happily together, it was too hard to turn him down.

Besides, you told yourself that this is what you wanted, right?

Hence why you’re pulling up to an address for some luxury apartment complex Nanami had sent you, and aiding him with unloading a truck full of boxes.

Swirling around as the sun casts its warm glow down onto the right side of your face, you glance down at the box that’s found itself in your hand for a moment. It was rather large ‘n heavy when you swiped it up so obviously you grow curious about what’s in it.

The word Gavels is printed out over the top in Shappie, making you snort a bit. “Ken, is your best friend a judge or something?” You ask curiously, looking over his way.

Nanami waves a dismissive hand at you playfully, “Ignore him and his weird assortment of items. I couldn’t tell you why he has that, honestly.”

You chuckle again and open your mouth to say something just as you catch the apartment complex doors swinging open. Unfortunately, your words die out on your tongue along with your smile the moment you see a familiar face strolling towards you and Nanami.

Your heart sinks to your ass and you think you’ve lost all sense of movement as you and the familiar face in question lock eyes.

Higuruma nearly trips—just barely managing to catch his footing before making a fool of himself. Quickly taking his eyes off of you and hoping he’s just imagining things, he makes way towards your fiancé.

You hoped for a second that he wasn’t the best friend who’s been bringing Nanami’s energy up lately. There’s no way, ri—

“Kento,” Fuck. “Is this one giving you some trouble?” Higuruma asks before reaching his hands out to take the box Nanami’s holding, “You’ve been out here for a while, I was starting to get worried.”

Nanami, none the wiser, smiles softly as he keeps the box close to him, “No, no, I was getting distracted by my darling fiancée here.” Then he gestures your way with a tilt of his head and gives Higuruma your name to introduce you. 

And god is it awkward.

The two of you don’t bother meeting eyes, Higuruma introduces himself as if he doesn’t vividly remember the way you were drooling his name out into his bedsheets some months ago, and both of you can feel how things are about to play out from here on out already.

After the thin-lipped, unnecessary exchange of names, Higuruma steps forward to try helpfully taking the weighty box out of your hands.

“Ah, no, it’s fine,” You shake your head and step back a bit, “I’ve got it.”

He ignores your claims, “No, please, I insist. This is one of the heavier boxes left.”

His hands meet the ends of said box, brushing over yours.

Tension shoots throughout your body as if you’d been shot and your voice bursts out of you with more conviction in it than necessary, “Really, I’m fine.”

As if he handn;t heard a thing you just said, Higuruma’s eyes steady onto yours and it’s like his hold on you returns all in one moment. Memories of that night wash over every thought you’ve had since and your breath is nowhere to be found as he finally takes the box from you. Sternly humming, “Allow me.”

Again—awkwaaaaard.

You clear your throat and try to recompose yourself by looking away, “There’s uh, there’s a lot of gavels in there…” Maybe if you pretend not to know him, that’ll help your situation? “Are you a judge?”

Hopefully he doesn’t remember you.

Higuruma stops to think for a moment, then smirks, “Depends…” He trails off for a second much too long. “Is that your type?”

The question—the theme of which had been repeated to you multiple times throughout that night you spent together—has a chill churning down your body and straight to your cunt. You almost wish you’d forgotten about him now because it was clear he damn sure didn’t.

Nanami nudges his arm, turning to him, “Are you flirting with my fiancée, right in front of me? Have you no shame?” He teases.

Higuruma sends him an innocent smile, “You hate it when I flirt with you, so I thought I’d try something a little different.”

The two men carry on with banterful conversation that somehow manages to exclude you, but you’re stuck reeling over the fact that this is truly happening to you.

Your fiancé’s best friend is the same man you slept with on the day before you got engaged.

What the hell are you gonna do now?

——

Simple; you’ll treat Higurma the same way you treated Nanami for the first seven months of your engagment—avoiding him like the fuckin’ plague.

Even being in the same room with him was like torture though. 

Higuruma was shameless with how he sent you these accusatory looks, as if it were somehow your fault that you two spent a night together just for you to end up marrying his best friend.

Who seemed to be a little more than that to Higuruma as the weeks passed by, might you add…

Maybe it was just that shamelessness of his, but Higuruma wasn’t exactly subtle with how he eyes your fiancé. Like, not subtle at all.

You’re not blind and you’re far from stupid—you know what a yearning man looks like.

The only confusing thing about it was the fact that Higurma shared those gazes between you and Nanami as if he were experiencing bi-panic every single time he interacted with you guys.

Nanami seemed clueless to all of this. Which, checks out considering he’d spent so long as a virgin and probably doesn’t have the best sense of picking up on flirtatious or romantic looks. 

None of that takes away from the tension building between the three of you though.

You could keep yourself distanced from Higuruma all you wanted, but if he had any say in the matter—which apparently he did—this wouldn’t last forever.

In fact, it only lasts until the night before your wedding.

Because you kept Nanami in the dark when it came to what had happened between you and Higuruma, he would constantly bring the three of you together. You would all meet up for lunches, go out for drinks, and linger a little too long in conversations that should've felt harmless but never did.

The three of you fit together rather naturally.

So much so that after a long day of being with the both of them, you just barely managed to break off into your Higuruma's kitchen for a moment to breathe. It was hard pretending that he didn't have you uneasy, particularly on nights like this where Nanami instead the two of you spend time at his place.

You were supposed to walk down the aisle tomorrow and yet the marriage had somehow become the least of your worries.

Now you were stress cleaning a spotless counter, panicking in thought of how the your married days would play out if Nanami planned to never break his friendship with that devilishly handsome lawyer.

And what would you even say if Nanami ever found out about—

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Higuruma murmured, voice like a cruel drag of burning smoke to your spine.

You swirl around, already looking for an escape.

He naturally steps in your way before you can even depart from the counter, “Don’t try doing it now, either. I just want to talk.”

Shit.

Letting your shoulders slump, “What is there to talk about?” You ask.

Everything about the conversation you begin to have with him goes by with rapid fire questions and responses.

Higuruma enters the kitchen fully and makes his way towards you. Keeping his voice low, “Aren’t you curious?”

You remain where you are, too fearful to make any sudden movements just yet, “Of?”

“Why I didn’t contact you.” He clarifies.

“No.”

He stops just short of entering your personal space and a stupid smirk appears on his face, “Liar.”

“Asshole.” You shoot back.

He scoffs, “That was cute.” Stepping closer again, “But you don’t mean that.”

You finally manage to shift further back, “It doesn't matter why you didn't contact me, considering I’m engaged now.”

“I’m well aware,” Higuruma chuckles, “To quite the astonishing man, might I add.”

The compliment rolled so easily off his tongue that it almost made you jealous. But, in the recent time you'd come to know Higuruma again, you'd learned that he and Nanami had been "friends" for years.

Friends remaining in quotes due to the questionable way in which Higuruma's voice softens whenever he speaks highly of his best friend, how his eyes showcase something of longing within them, and how he admires your partner in a manner well beyond something friendly.

"Fine, I'll bite." You soon sigh as you fold your arms, “How could you not call, or text? I didn't leave my number for no reason.”

“I knew you were curious." He hums victoriously, "Anyhow, I was busy, and—“

That ticks you off faster than you expect it to and words shoot out of your mouth carrying solid repugnance, “People make time for what and who they care about.”

Higuruma also decides to speak without thinking, staring you down as he says, “How could I care about you? I spent one night with you.”

That hits much harder than you expect it to.

You thought you'd moved on but the feelings you'd been harboring for the man come back all in one moment, “Wow.”

“I'm being honest. I hardly knew you,” He shrugs, “We had a wonderful night, but I was swamped with responsibilities directly after—especially between work and preparing to move.”

“I don't even know why I asked.” You scoff, rolling your eyes elsewhere and attempting to turn away, "Fuck you"

Higuruma bites back a smile. That’s fair—he thinks, hating how your immediate response for him never fails to rial him up. It’s one thing (amongst others) that he couldn’t stop thinking about after that night with you, “You did that already."

"Save me the cliche responses." You nearly push past him, "If you have nothing of substance to talk about with me, then i’m—“

He steps in your way again, flying a hand to your waist that you don't even try to remove. Then both his words and voice comes out softer, “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

Your jaw tenses, “It’s worth noth-“

“You don’t have to lie to me,” He interrupts as if he knew exactly what you were gonna say. “I know it’s worth something to you, don’t be so stubborn.”

For the first time since he'd entered the kitchen, you manage to meet eyes with him, “Why should it be worth anything to me when the night we spent together wasn’t worth anything to you?!”

“I never said that.” Higuruma claims.

“Well, it was heavily implied.” You scoff, yet to remove his hand from your waist. “Where’s Kento?”

“Asleep.”

Your tongue clicks, “Ah, so you’ve ambushed me. Got it.”

The man laughs, “Not at all. I only want to talk.”

“You don’t have to be this close to talk to me.”

“It’s the only way you’ll listen, as I’ve come to learn.”

You ultimately smack his hand off, “...It’s wrong to touch an engaged woman in this way.” Higuruma scoffs and you send him a glare, “Something funny?”

A smug look takes over his usually tied features, “We both know you don’t really want anything to do with Kento or that arrangement you’re trapped in.”

You're left offended, “You don’t know shit.”

“Oh yeah?” Higuruma challenges, “Then why—“

“—and I don’t owe you any sort of explanations. I don’t need you to save me from this, or to sweet talk your way back into my life.” You explain, despite yourself, “I don’t need you, period.”

He takes a moment to let your words settle, then the corner of his lips quirk further up, “Does lying to yourself like this help you cope?”

“Cope with what.” You breathe.

“Cope with the fact that you don’t feel the slightest thing for Kento—and you may never be able to—because you’re still stuck on that night we had together.”

“I… I-I’m not-,” Your words tangle up, “I’m not stuck on anything.”

“So answer me then,” That hand returns to your waist and he takes up the space directly in front of you, his other hand coming to your chin to tip your head up, “Why have you been avoiding me?”

His touches should've felt disrespectful to what you had built with Nanami thus far, but in the moment you found yourself forgetting that.

The contact leaves you blurting your truth out, “…It’s awkward to face you.”

And he's annoyingly quick to ask, “Why?”

“Because..."

Higuruma gets closer, “Because, what? Because you can’t stop thinking about it? About that night? About me?” He leans to your ear, “About us?”

Your resolve crumbles, “…Fuck you.”

He lightly grabs a full hold of your jaw and lifts your face further up, “You want to so badly, huh? Haven’t even let poor Kento kiss you because of it, I bet.”

It was ironic how wrong he was with that statement.

But you don't get to argue about it because the man in question walks in with a loud clearing of his throat, "What’s going on here?”

You instantly shuffle away and nearly trip over yourself, muttering, “Shit.”

Higuruma remains casual and swivels around, “We were just talking, Ken’.”

The nickname on his tongue makes your stomach twist up weirdly but you refuse to label it as jealousy for sure.

“You two seemed rather close for a conversation,” Nanami says, nearing you already and bringing a warm hand to where you'd bumped into the counter, “And you hit your hip, are you alright?”

The fact that he noticed that makes your heart churn with guilt, “I-I’m fine.”

“Your voice is unsteady,” He points out, glancing at Higuruma. “What kind of conversation were you two having, exactly?”

“One of the past.” Higuruma replies for you.

“Hiromi.” You warn.

His dark brows furrow, “What? Surely you don’t mean to hide it from the man you’ll be married to by tomorrow.”

“Hide what from me?” Nanami presses.

Putting it all out there, "We slept together. The night before you two met, actually.”

Those words open an entirely new can of words that span out for the next few minutes, ultimately resulting in a series of confessions. Many truths come out all at once.

Nanami asks you if that's why the two of you spent seven months like strangers, to which you naturally deny. Then he asks if you have feelings for Higuruma and you begrudgingly admit that you do, only to get rejected again by the man—since he had a confession of his own to get out.

The night was a lot, all because Higuruma decided to ambush you in the kitchen.

Hell, with the way things play out, you nearly wonder if the two men had planned this sorta thing. Especially when all feelings have been expressed and you realize it's a three-way mess of romance with only one not-so-obvious solution.

Of which Higuruma is the one to explain by making his way in between you and Nanami.

His hand intimately glided hand along Nanami's shoulder, then his neck, and soon grabs his jaw at the same time he grabs your hand and pulls you closer.

Higuruma leans over as if to kiss Nanami before whispering, “Let me be yours.” He starts, turning to you to kiss your hand fully, “And yours—if you’ll both have me.”

Obviously, the two of you let out a choke.

“What?” You snort.

Meanwhile Nanami’s face has gone beat red, “You’re suggesting a throuple? Hours before I'm to be married??”

Higuruma meets his eyes, “Yes. Think about it, how could your family deny another powerful union?” Then he looks to you, “Same with yours. Two brilliant men at your beck and call—twice the chances of you getting pregnant, as you've mentioned they so desperately want for you.”

With all that's transpired, you hardly even remembered doing that. But, you knew he had a point.

A damn good one too.

——

And to solidify the threeway agreement you all come to after a rather hasty conversation... the three of you rightfully make your way upstairs together.

Nothing else mattered when you had two genres of your type catering to both you, and one another, within the confines of Higuruma's bedroom.

By now, your body was trembling between them as you found yourself caught right in between the raw heat of pent up arousal. Nanami's hands were gripping your hips firmly, his fingers grounding into your flesh as he thrusted deep into you. His familiarly thick shaft kept your sloshing pussy stretched with each deliberate push of his hips.

The slick sounds of skin clashing against skin crowded the room, and your muffled moans vibrated against the cock Higuruma had curving all nastily into your mouth. There was a steady rhythm between the two men that swiftly guided your body back 'n forth between their much bulkier ones.

Nanami’s stiff cock easily broke you open from the back, while Higuruma’s leftly curving length slathered against the center of your drooling tongue.

A low groan rumbled right out from Higuruma's chest, his hazed eyes locked onto your teary ones—loving the way your swollen lips stretched around him, “Ohhhh fuck, I bet you’ve been wanting this, huh?” He puffed hotly, mixing his questions with praises of, "That's it, sweet girl." and, "Take me juuust like that, mhm."

Even if you could answer him, Nanami wasn't letting up with how his pace was building. His hand slides up the delicate arch in your spine, forcing you to feel every twitching vein 'n inch of his like he'd done before—the sensation sending rapturous sparks through your core.

"Our greedy girl," He grunted, not even noticing the way Higuruma began to lean closer to him. "S'tight in here-, fuck. You were never gonna be satisfied with one or the other..."

The dual stimulation was enough to have your eyes cloudy as pretty streaks of tears ran down your face. Higuruma would do his best to wipe them from you, but when he saw how Nanami wasn't doing much better—even with how filthy he managed to speak to you—he couldn't help but get distracted.

Higuruma's cock throbbed against the roof of your mouth, your cheek hollowing out so you can swirl your tongue along his veiny underside and draw a crisp hiss from him. Then his hips buck forward and push you further back onto Nanami—making the blond gasp while you gag.

You're too busy doing exactly that to see how the Higuruma takes his hands off of you for a moment to grab at Nanami's face, tugging him over and kissing him. Nanami's thoroughly fucked out and can hardly think with the combination of your cunt quivering around him as his best friend devours the inside of his mouth.

Then Nanami's pouring his words out against Higuruma's lips, "A greedy pussy like this needs two cocks to fill her right."

Higuruma whines at that as if his dream were actively coming true. "That means we hafta' take turns ruining her, right?" He mumbles.

You barely realize what that means before Nanami's withdrawing from you, leaving your pussy all aching 'n empty—slick arousal dripping down your thighs.

A gasp hitches out of you as Higuruma then moves to take his place behind you, grabby hands pawing at your ass to spread you out for him to see. His plump tp presses against your entrance to tease you just once before he sinks in with a smooth thrust. The angle instantly hits differently—deeper, brushing against your candied walls in a way that causes your fingernails to curl into the sheets.

Meanwhile Nanami kneels in front of you now, his erection overtly rigid and shimmering with your juices. He cups your face a moment, wiping drool from your chin. "Messy girl," He whispers lovingly, tapping at your bottom lip. "Open up nice and wide for me, yeah?" He instructs.

It was clear he gained a little more confidence with the presence of his best friend.

The taste of him soon mixes with the prior taste of Higuruma on your tongue as you bob your head, feeling your tongue sore from all the weight that's rut against it for the past however many minutes.

Higuruma's hips slap harder against your skin, his palm calming down on your ass with a slight smack. You push back against him and he scoffs, "You should see the mess you're making. Should be ashamed of it, really."

Then Nanami's distracting you all over again with his hand tangling into your hair and his words landing down on you, "Swallow around me-, mhm."

You cry out around his cock, the thrum making him thrust a little more erratically. Higuruma's following soon after by burring himself impossibly deeper before choking on his own breath and spilling hot 'n sappy cum inside you.

A few seconds pass, and while he's pulling out of you to watch his seed chase after his tip with stringy shlicks, Nanami's impolitely releasing his own few thick ropes of cum down your throat.

Panting, you're slowly eased down onto the bed by the two men—who waste no time in cleaning you of their mess—and you all flop into some semblance of relaxation.

You're barely lucid but you feel Higuruma pressing kisses into your temple as Nanami keeps wiping at the lower half of your face. Then, the lawyer whispers, "I'll make it all official by morning—documents and all."

As if you cared about any of that now...

Nanami nods along though, pulling you closer and leaving you to wonder—if both men really were to become your husbands, and nights like this would occur more often...

Which one would get you pregnant first?

tags:

@hiromihigurumaswife @clownerylynn @mnicfz @soupydumplings @themossiestchick @iiakithegoat @nanamimylife @izukuuu @mspineapplelover @thecrazyfangirlthings

@rzaau @wondrous-me @pearlydays @bobis-notmylover @letter123goanony @jaehyunsleftnut @chuuyan4kahara @lishenluv @chlefnikkl @maxxthefan

@eeveemainfr @ashsummer @brieflyinfiniteglitch @reinleelife @hxteurgutz @a-court-of-smut-and-sluts @almamelancolica @babblybebe @crispytreats047 @smoki-reigns

@minastoe @wonderfullymickey @re-tired-succubus @bitt3rk0i @longhairedfeline @luna5607 @yeagerbombxxx @fd3h @amigojuice @kebablove

@toffeebrat @hxteurgutz @pearlsalmi @datsbel

additional tags of interest: @blkkizzat @cupidstrace @uhnosav @madamechrissy @yenayaps

another author’s note: and just in case anyone asks... no, im not going to nearly match the wc with my follower count like this ever again. i just got caught up in the plot!

[kamiflix]

▶︎ Fever (starring . pervy roommate!toji)

synopsis . In which the overwhelming heat in your apartment sends you and your perverted roommate into a different kind of heat. content . afab!reader, mutual masturbation, heavy tension, implied perv x perv, not-so-dry humping, dirty talk, filth, spit, size kink, rough sex, teasing, thigh riding, high tensions, slight spanking, man handling, groping, nipple play, perversion, degrading, oral sex (f!receiving), pussy slapping, toji’s realllll nasty, praise, both of you are super needy and stupid, finger sucking, etc.

word count . 7.3k || author's note: no, not fever by enhypen. fever by vybz kartel, lock in w me now. fic based on this request! (not proofread) banner art by rororogi mogera <3

You told Toji to get that old piece of garbage you both called air conditioning fixed months ago.

Ever the cheapskate, Toji promised you he’d handle it himself. That was four weeks ago and now the machine has finally croaked—having breathed it’s final breath of cool air into your apartment somewhere throughout the night.

It’s the following day since then—where you've returned after a looong, exhausting day of work—and now the apartment is hot. The sun is outside blazing against the building’s exterior but due to the lack of cool air circulating the interior, you're left irritated rather quickly.

The heat occupying the air wouldn’t even be that bad if you had a fan or two but the ones you did have are more tasks that have fallen victim to Toji’s lack of handling as they lay broken in dusty closets.

And as for the man in question, he's laid out on the couch in nothing more than his boxers as if he owns the damn place.

Lazy bastard. He doesn't even pay his rent on time!

Ignoring the fact that you make up for it most months, it is all the more annoying to see him lounging around as soon as you get home. Especially when the house feels like what you imagine the inside of hell's darkest ass crack to be. Too much movement would surely result in one of you passing out from overheated exhaustion.

It's with great urgency that you strip yourself of your things, purposefully making an unnecessary amount of noise as you toss your keys onto the nearby counter. The sound seems to pull Toji's attention away from the TV ahead of him, earning a lazy turn of his head as he glances back to you.

He can't even get a full greeting out before you scoff.

"Toji," His shoulders slump in instant reaction to the sound of scolding in your voice. It's way too fucking hot for you to start an argument with him now. "You've been home all day and you still haven't fixed anything."

He grunts from across the way, turns his attention back to the TV, and then rolls his eyes, "Can't work in the heat, doll."

"You wouldn't have to if you fixed it as soon as I said something months ago." You throw back at him, pulling your body through hot air just to get to your fridge.

You wanted to be disappointed to see that there's no water in the freezer nor fridge, really. But when you look back over to where Toji's been sitting on his ass all dat—spotting more empty water bottles than you can count—you find an expected wave of disappointment slither into you.

"Said sorry for that already, didn't I?" He asks, the lack of true care in his voice doing nothing to ease your irritation with him.

At this rate, you'd be sending out offers for a new roommate by tomorrow morning.

The freezer is opened back up for a moment, your hand diving in to try and get some sort of cooled relief, even if only for a second. Unfortunately for you, that seems to be yet another thing in your apartment in need of fixing.

You let the freezer door slam and your forehead follows after it as you rest yourself against its outside. Sighing, "Sorry doesn't fix anything, Toji."

You couldn't see it but he was smiling at that. The only reason he's lasted this long in this apartment with you is because he doesn't mind your nagging too much—it keeps him on his toes most times. But after not listening to you for months, he wonders if he'll actually get in trouble with you this time around.

When he turns to get another look at you, he's met with the sight of your back as you make way towards the bathroom. Toji figured you're off to shower in hopes of cooling yourself off in the process.

Unfortunately for you, the building you live in has the opposite issue most complexes do and instead of running out of hot water, your place has an issue producing cold water. This wouldn't be so bad if the person who showered before you was conscious of how much he used.

But when annoyingly mild tempered water hits your fingers, you're left knowing exactly who to blame. Again.

He may enjoy living with you because he doesn't mind hearing you cold him, however you are slowly starting to dread sharing this apartment with him more and more as each day lugs on.

——

After a warm shower, you tuck yourself off into your bedroom only to find that it is undoubtedly the hottest room thus far. You try to ignore it as you pull on some shorts and a t-shirt that won't have you drenched in sweat come next morning but naturally it's difficult to do so once you lay yourself down.

You toss and turn against your sheets—comforter practically tossed to the floor, and body already beginning to perspire in a thin layer of sweat—until you manage to doze off for a solid ten minutes. Apparently that was all it took for your body to decide that sleeping under this heat was going to be impossible.

Which is how you end up out in the living room. Toji wasn't occupying the couch anymore so you tried to sleep there, figuring that if he could spend the whole day in one spot, you could spend a night sleeping there and it would provide you just the slightest bit of coolness in comparison to what you bedroom had given you.

Yet, every slight shift in your movement somehow made you impossibly hotter. The couch cushions did nothing but toast your skin and the humidity in the air led you into peeling yourself right off of the furniture and trudging towards the last known resort.

Toji's bedroom.

Now, you're no stranger to your roommate being quite the pervert—which is why you avoid his bedroom at all costs—but sometime back during the winter season, you do recall a few weeks were your apartment's heating system gave out and it was established then that Toji's bedroom had been the chilliest. He ended up sleeping in your room for some nights because of that, cuddling up against you in the name of sharing body heat.

So now that it's summertime, you're standing outside of his door hoping that something similar still applies to the temperature of his room. Your room is obviously the hottest, the living room and main area of the apartment barely fairs any better, and all that leaves his room to be hopefully a few degrees lighter than everywhere else.

You push his room door open sluggishly, nearly doused in sweat from head to toe as you trudge towards his bed and smack at his foot while you walk by. "You up?" your voice cuts through the air carelessly, earning a low grunt from the man sprawled out across his mattress. "Cool, move over."

That seems to wake Toji right up. His eyes peel open and he lets out a huff heavy enough to add to the heat occupying the rest of the apartment, but neither of you have the energy to say anything about it. "Why're you in here?" he asks as he scoots his large body over to give you some room.

For a short moment—and a short moment only—Toji wonders if the heat has finally made you come to your senses where he's concerned. He hoped that maybe a wet dream involving him brought you into his bedroom.

The weight of your body makes the bed dip in a bit as you shuffle onto his sheets right beside him, instantly melting into the faint frigidity it provides, and letting out a short sigh. "It's cooler in your room, so I'm sleeping in here tonight. You better get that shit fixed tomorrow."

Toji looks over and feels the excitement he had to share a bed with you rapidly die inside him as he's met with the sight of your back facing him. This wasn't the worst scenario possible, but he was really wishing for something more interesting to have led you into this position next to him.

He doesn't say anything in response to you with his mouth and decides on letting his eyes speak for him with the way they slide down your body. The shirt you have on was hugging your torso due to how much you'd been sweating, glued to every slight curve and dip of your frame, and leaving him unable to look away quickly enough.

It didn't take a genius to see that you were at ease beside him rather quickly. Toji is suddenly very appreciative for the slightly chiller conditioning of his bedroom. Technically it's still hot—as too much movement could quickly result in exhaustion just as it would in any other area of the apartment—but with you laying beside him in shorts small enough to drive him insane, he figures it's all worth it.

Meanwhile, you don't have to be facing Toji to know his eyes are on you. You could practically feel the way his gaze crawled over you, eventually settling onto the scarce fabric of your shorts that did little to conceal the entirety of your ass. There's a sudden and prominent urge to adjust the way your clothes are sitting on you, and Toji watches as you slowly move a hand to tug your shorts down an inch.

The scar at the corner of his lips shifts as his mouth twitches and he fights off a smirk.

He would never touch you without your permission or anything like that, but he was aware that you knew the real effects you had on him. Even laying beside him was enough to make his hips shift against the bed.

There was only so much space between your body and his, and his mattress wasn't the largest thing in the world so most movement was easily acknowledgeable. Even so, you decided to ignore it as best as you could.

Even though you could tell his hand had lifted from his side and moved somewhere towards his legs. Your eyes squeezed shut and you hoped silently that Toji wouldn't do what you figured he was about to.

Surely it was too hot for that.

Right?

At first he wasn't going to do anything. It started off as his fingers going off to pinch and tug at the fabric of his gym shorts, giving the steadily rising erection in between his legs some space to breathe. Then he told himself he wouldn't give it any attention and try to sleep it away.

Toji was on the same page as you in the beginning, he really was. Jerking off with you trying to sleep beside him was way too hot of an activity under all this warmth.

And yet, he's palming at his dick within the next twenty minutes. You drifted off just enough for him to be able to move without you noticing, and while he didn't touch you, he did lean over to glance over your shoulder to make sure you were fast asleep before his hand had wrapped around the bulge that'd formed against his shorts.

You'd shift around in your sleep a little and he'd twitch against his hand, watching the way your hip looks adjusting against the bed. Oh, the things he'd give to perch his hand there instead, turning his body over to cup yours and rubbing the outline of his hard cock up against the natural curve of your ass instead of his palm like some loser.

The thought alone brought his bottom lip up in between his teeth. Then he was moving his hands beneath his shorts and letting out a quiet breath of air. He didn't intend to jerk off like this. Seriously.

When his hand first makes contact with his dick, he shudders. Toji's tugged at his cock in thought of you over the years more times than he could count, but somehow this was different. He'd never done it next to you like this, where leaning over a couple inches brought your scent into his nose and the natural warmth of your body closer to intertwine with his.

Even back when he'd shared a bed with you during the winter he managed to control himself each night and refused to stroke himself. Well, right next to you, at least. He most definitely got off like a whore the very second you were gone.

Toji ends up spitting into the palm of his hand as quietly as he can manage before he pulls his cock free and rubs at the head whilst staring at your body. You seemed so upset with him earlier, sending those slight jabs his way. He's sure if it was a bit cooler, you would've cursed him clean out like you normally do.

But just the thought of the few comments you'd made thus far is enough to have him leaking into his hand as he finally wraps his fingers around his thick shaft and jerks off. The sounds of his actions are a bit loud, schlick after schlick after sopping schliiick. Technically you should've woken up, but the fact that you didn't made him all the more horny.

He knows you'd get annoyed if you caught him like this—the fact that he can't even handle you sleeping in his bed is definitely enough to piss you off.

Little did he know, you were pretending to sleep the entire time. You were in and out of your slumber, sure, but you certainly weren't able to get a full night's rest when the sound of your roommate touching his wet cock next to you was loud enough to drive any woman insane. There was an image of it somewhere in your head, courtesy of accidentally walking in on him in the bathroom a couple times in the past, so it was a little difficult to sleep with those thoughts combined with his strokes all in one hot night.

Not to mention the way he was panting behind you with not one care in the world for how noisy he was. Hell, some of his breaths managed to slither towards the back of your neck.

You made the mistake of adjusting yourself again and accidentally pushed back towards him, your ass nearly making contact with the side of his body. Toji had to grip at the base of his dick to stop himself from cumming just then, his next breath choking its way out of him before he could help it, and his other hand moving to pull his shirt up.

He went to bite down on the fabric to hopefully help with the sounds threatening to spill from his lips but it didn't help much.

The man resumed with his strokes and it wasn't long before you felt something land on your butt in thick spurts.

Despite the fact that you already had your eyes closed, they squeezed shut a little harder as you fought the urge to flinch. You hoped desperately that what you just felt wasn't what you thought it was. There was no way Toji managed to cum on your ass while you were "sleeping", right?

You figure that right then is as good a moment as any to stop pretending to be asleep and let yourself yawn—giving him a sign that you've stirred awake. Toji's body tenses up almost immediately, his eyes widening a fraction as he realizes what exactly he just did. He gulps, frantically looking around the bed to see what he can use as an excuse for the white mess currently drooling down the side of your ass.

Fairly enough, he has half a mind to snap a picture before you turn over. Just so he can have something to remember this by, y'know?

He doesn't though, considering how he moves to tuck his dick back into his shorts and clears his throat.

After which he moves to prop himself up on one of his elbows, and you feel something brushing against your butt. You can't help the way your eyes broaden.

Then you peek back at him from over your shoulder, and your gazes meet for a breif moment. There's not an ounce of guilt on his face and he only holds the eye contact with you for a few seconds before he looks back down to focus on what he's doing.

You follow along with the redirection and angle yourself back just enough to catch sight of what exactly is brushing against you. You see a cloth in his hand and watch silently for a few seconds as he wipes you clean.

Somewhere in your mind, you wondered if he was going to casually explain that he just came on you and then try to go to sleep like it was no big deal.

To your surprise, neither of those things happen.

The next bit of eye contact that's exchanged between the two of you is awkward. He's still wiping and you're just starring at him as try to figure out what you're supposed to say to him. What exactly was the proper way to react in this situation?

You're too hot to argue, too tired to be disgusted, and fainly aroused since you've always had a mutual attraction for the man that you've been trying to ignore for as long as you've been living with him.

“Sorry,” Toji’s the first to break the ice. “Had this in the bed,” he moves his other hand up and within it is a convienent bottle of lotion. Part of you wanted to laugh at him because of course he has enough junk in his bed to use as a cover up for what he'd really just spilt on you. "Saw some of it got on ya'," he finishes off with a half-apologetic grin on his lips.

You obviously knew that wasn't true since you heard every little detail of what he'd been doing—from spitting into his hand, to thoughtlessly huffing out your name under his breath. Toji wasn't fooling anyone here, but you'd let it slide for now.

“Might wanna change out of these,” he suggests in reference to your shorts, tapping at your butt once he's done wiping you off, “I could lend you somethin’, or—“

“No, it’s fine.” is all you say before you turn your head away.

With no warning, Toji ends up watching how you slide your hands down and swiftly remove your shorts—tossing them off the bed and then laying yourself back down as if to sleep.

He blinks.

Then his eyes unfortunately find themself on your panties because surely you were doing this on purpose now. Coming into his room this late because of the heat, sleeping next to him and nearly rubbing your ass against his body, and now clad in nothing more than a thin shirt and even thinner panties?

If he squinted hard enough at the right angle, he swears he'd catch sight of your pussy.

You heard him scoff behind you, then the weight in the bed shifts around as he decides to pay no mind to your attire this time. He already got off, so naturally there should be no need to go again.

…Even if you're clearly testing his patience.

——

Minutes fly by. Neither of you get a wink of rest.

You're starring blankly at the wall in front of you and Toji's left blindly looking up at the ceiling. Both of you tried to go to sleep, honestly.

But Toji kept adjusting his legs to stop the constant twitching of his cock and you repeatedly rubbed your legs together as if to lightly soothe the ache that'd came about after that whole fiasco of his seed ending up on you.

At this point the only thing occupying Toji's bedroom were two idiots in heat. Whether or not that meant heat in the literal sense or in the physical sense was beyond understanding to either of you.

After thirty minutes of you two staring into space and waiting on the other person to make a move, both of you manage to get some rest.

Though, it doesn't take much longer for you guys to realize that this was the worst possible outcome. Somewhere in your sleeping, your bodies naturally find one another. You'd think that under the hot air some distance would be created, but it seems as though you both had unintentionally different plans.

The next time you wake up, it's to the steady sound of something thumping against your ear. When your eyes flutter open, you're met with a naked chest and the feeling of something weighty wrapped around you.

The weight in question seems to be Toji's arm and the thumping you hear is coming from his beating heart. You lift your head a little to look up at his face and he's already giving you a half-lidded, groggy stare.

“It’s hot as shit in here ‘n you decide to lay on me? You’re tryin’ to kill me.” He mumbles, the very vibration of his deep voice involuntarily causing you to shift against him.

Both of your limbs are already tangled with one another, so the next movement of your body wakes you up fully as your clit presses somewhere up against his thigh.

You try to nudge at him playfully to distract yourself from the sensation that invoked, “No one’s trying to kill you, Toji. Hush.”

None the wiser, your roommate tries lifting his legs to move over a bit and accidentally grinds the firm muscle you'd already been pressed against, into you. You turn your face away just in time to hide the expression that tugs out of you, but fail to swallow down the sound that follows.

“Mmnh,” The sound floats out of you before you can control it.

Then Toji's brows scrunch up—as if he has any room (literally) to be confused, “Fuck was that?”

Your head shakes, “Nothing.”

That singular word flips some type of switch in his head, resulting in that same leg lifting up a few inches in between yours, and simultaneously pushing your body further up against his whilst rubbing between the dampened fabric concealing your core. Your jaw falls open helplessly this time and Toji eyes the way your hand flies down to his chest as if to grab at it.

Technically you were trying to brace yourself, but the breathy bit of air you release along with all the movement makes him cock a brow.

“You sweatin’ down here?” Toji asks bluntly, now dragging his leg back down just to cop a bit of a better feel than the first time.

It would be obvious to anyone with eyes that neither of you were in your right mind at the moment. He was openly teasing you and you weren't shutting it down like you normally do. Perhaps it was the heat or the lack of proper rest under it—but either way—the two of you were clearly falling victim to the same sensations.

Your lashes flutter again and you hunch forward towards him a bit, “That’s not-," his leg adjusts again, the bulky muscle in his thigh flexing, "Toji.”

“What? That’s not what?” He grabs at your chin and tugs your face up to look at him properly, “Talk to me, doll. Tell me what that is I’m feelin’.”

The forced eye contact makes you throb. You suppose right then that the heat had finally gotten to you. Otherwise you wouldn't be feeling the way you do at the moment.

Right?

Your body adjust against him slightly and you fight the urge to let your eyes fall back as pleasure jolts throughout your body from the feel of your clit catching the firm build of his leg. “It’s not sweat, Toji.” You admit honestly.

There's a singular beat of silence that passes, filled only with your hardly discreet way of grinding against his leg, and him aiding you through every faint gyration.

“Mh.” His hum rumbles lowly, “So, you’re horny.”

You drop your face down into his chest out of embarrassment and you playfully smack at him, “Don’t say it like that!”

“Say it like what? It’s true." Toji cocks his head over and watches how your body is betraying your embarrassment. Then he finds himself smirking all over again as he his face back toward you, lips angling to your ear, "Your pussy’s droolin’ all against my thigh right now—should I have said it like that instead?”

You almost moan, “N-No."

“Hah.” Now he's smirking in full force, hands having gone to your sides just to feel your body twitching as they slide lower and lower, “Go ahead ‘n move your hips—rub one out against me, baby.”

There's a groan that snakes out of your throat in response before your hand curls into a frustrated ball against the planes of his abs, “Don’t call me that.”

Toji's hands grip at your hips and his voice seductively caresses itself throughout your eardrums, “Want me to do it for you?" Your head shakes in response to his question and he tuts, "Alright then rub that pussy against me, lemme feel her real good.”

And what more permission did you need?

You pluck your body away from being sandwiched to his, sitting up at some half-angle and let your hips buck forward just once. Toji smiles and wastes not one second in dragging his clammy palm around to properly grope at the fat of your ass.

“Mhm,” he hums encouragingly, to which you let off an airy sound that has his cock aching for attention all over again. “There you go. Keep making yourself feel good, pretty girl.”

“Toji," his name leaves you in something just short of a moan, and it's overtly apparent now that both of you are overcome with a mutual neediness.

His hand squeezes at your ass with each rock 'n shy rut of your hips—guiding you with your steady grinding over his thigh. Then you feel your clit roll at a rather juicy angle, quickly resulting in your upper half flopping back down against Toji.

He feels a hot pant fan out across his chest and he has to bite at his lip again to stop himself from making all kinds of noises. This was everything he'd fantasied about and more if he was being completely honest.

“So fuckin’ sexy,” Toji compliments with a greedy tug of your body, weeping a webby lather of precum from the slit of his cock in reaction to having your tits pressed against his naked skin—your perked nipples rubbing against him in a fashion near to the way your clit traveled his thigh beyond your panties. “My dick’s gonna start hurtin’ if I don’t do something. Can’t keep watching you like this.”

You're the one holding back responses now, instead answering him with a sudden kiss against his left pec. Toji's lips separate and he breathes out something soft once your hand slips down to the waistband of his shabby shorts.

“Can I?” You whisper against his skin, lips smearing.

Toji looks at you like you just asked him the dumbest question in the world. Then he scoffs, “Go ahead.“

You waste no time in dipping your hand beneath the dark fabric to haul his cock free. In your hand is a weight nothing could've prepared you for.

Toji's got a freakishly heavy cock, to say the least. It's massive within your fingers and when you look down at it, you almost moan from the sight alone.

Even though his room was rather dark, there was enough moonlight spilling in from the distant window to have the cum gathered around his plump head glistening. Your thumb pushed up and slipped right against that pretty slit of his, earning a sharp crack in his breathing.

Toji feels your the pad of your thumb applying pressure before he groans. Then you stroke downwards towards his base, feeling the dark, sweaty hairs of surrounding it tickle your skin.

“Shit," You mutter.

He—annoyingly—starts smirking at you again, “Big, ain’t it?”

Your eyes roll, then you turn your head back up to look at him, “Shut up.”

The next few minutes consist of you jerking him off whilst you continue grinding against his leg. Toji mutters filth under his breath that you're too horny to hear, and both of you are now sweating against one another for entirely different reasons.

Toji expects this act to be the very peak of his expectations, but amid your perfected strokes—because fuck if your hand isn't the best thing he's felt around his dick in weeks—your mouth meets his chest again, and he's quickly caught off guard by the way your lips wrap around one of his nipples. Your tongue swirls aimlessly, tugging the bud further past your lips whilst indulging in two other fruitless acts of pleasure simultaneously.

For a while you were convinced that Toji's laziness translated in the bed as well since he damn sure wasn't doing much aside from letting you rub all over him in every available aspect.

That was until he felt your breaths coming in shorter and your hand gripping at his cock a bit tighter to brace yourself for something. It was rather adorable how quickly you tensed up against him as your orgasm approached. All he could do was sit there and swallow down his groans as you gripped his cock and moaned against his nipple, clit throbbing at his thigh and cunt leaking your panties into a soaking mess.

The moment your body starts to convulse and he realizes you're cumming, his hand slides under your panties and he palms the bare skin of your ass before applying a hefty bit of pressure—weighing your body harder down against his thigh so you have no room to run from the orgasm that crashes over you.

Feeling you cum against his leg is easily one of the best feelings in the world in his opinion. He would have the air conditioning broken for months if this would be the result every night.

Not that he tells you this, of course.

As you're panting and trying to steady your breathing, Toji finally decides to stop being lazy and causes your hand to fall away from his length as he suddenly shifts about to push you over.

You land on your back and gasp, blinking rapidly before he's positioning himself above you—cock dangling nastily and sloppily kissing against the skin of your naked thigh. Toji's big arms bracket the sides of you body and you stare up at him innocently, as if you didn't just rub one out on his thigh and leech onto him throughout the entire ordeal.

“What’re you doing?” you ask.

“You want me to fuck you, right?” Toji hums, abruptly hooking an arm under one of your knees and lifting your leg up. Then he's doing the same to your other leg and your breath is tangling around somewhere in your lungs. You're barely given a proper moment to process what's going in before he's dipping down in between your clammy legs as if it's second nature, "Gotta make you cum for me first."

"But I just—"

"Nah," Toji's smiles once he's got a face full of your pussy in front of him—your flimsy panties the only thing between his starving mouth and what was about to serve as a refreshment for him, "Not like that. On my tongue."

That's the only warning he gives you before diving in.

It should've been too hot for half of the things you two had done so far and yet here you were anyway—letting him grind the entirety of his mouth against the gorgeously swollen mound of your pussy, his teeth baring out to tug your panties over to the side so he could properly suction his lips to you. Your underwear is kept to the side by a singular thumb that he angles over, and his mouth is nothing short of disgusting against you.

In fact, the entire lower half of his face is nasty when met with your pussy. The tip of his nose nuzzles against your frazzled clit, and his lips motion outwardly before he sucks the slick out from in between your folds—tongue coming through to lap at it as if rewarded. When he groans, you feel the sound thunder against the entire lower half of your body.

Toji's busy going to town until you both are a mess of mixed sweat and pleasureful tears. Your hand found his hair somewhere in between his long tongue curving up inside you, and since then you've been grinding upwards against him, practically riding his face whilst he fucked you right back down into the matress with his mouth alone.

The same mattress of which rocked with both of your combined movements. The volume of your moaning and his groaning was surely enough to earn a noise complaint from a nearby neighbor the following morning but obviously neither of you cared.

Between Toji's tongue and the heat that continued to make you sweat into his sheets at a ridiculous rate, your next orgasm comes far heavier than the first one had. So much so that you were squirming all against your roommate, trying to push at his head as if you didn't want to cum—your poor mind scrambled from everything that'd taken place thus far.

It's not until after you spill something weepy into his mouth that he peels his mouth off of you and wipes at his mouth, licking the remnants that smear across his hand immediately after.

Yet even then Toji doesn't give you much time to recover. If anything, he gives you no time to recover whatsoever.

Your eyes are still stinging from prickly tears of pleasure, and as you're blinking them away, you catch sight of him crawling his way back up over you. Next thing you know and his mouth meets yours in a singular, haphazard kiss that consists of a slanted tongue sloppily breaking past your lips and a groan pouring into your opened mouth.

Then his cock slips against your exposed folds, a thumping vein felt mapping the outskirts of your sensitive clit before he angles one hand down to grip his base. Your body latches onto his all over again, arms wrapping around his neck despite the sweat on your skin making the both of you slip 'n slide against one another.

Toji smiles into his next set of smooches, trailing his kisses down to your jaw, and eventually the warm side of your neck before feeling you roll your body upwards—cunt kissing the head of his dick as he slides it downwards in one heavy motion.

“Awh, look at you grindin’ on my tip like that. You want this fat cock inside you, huh?” His voice slathers itself into your skin and it's making you impossibly hotter underneath him, but you couldn't be bothered with it right now. Which is exactly why you nod in response, and he leans up a little to look you in the eyes whilst releasing his length from his grip, “Yeahh? Here, take it then—let me see you put it in.”

No seconds are wasted as you dip your hand down and comfortably wrap your fingers around him, giving him a couple tugs that he can't help but glance down at. Toji eventually obeys your short tugs 'n pulls by letting his body follow the motion until his tip is getting snagged by your goopy entrance—globs of slick sobbing all over his first few pudgy inches.

The very moment he starts sliding into you, you're whining and he's left moaning above you.

“Ohmygodd,” His dick easily stretches you out a bit more than you were expecting it to, the sheer girth of him jerking a gaspy little call of his name out of your lungs, “Toji-, Toji!”

“What, what? What’s wrong?” He pauses rather quickly to ensure he's not hurting you or something, hardly even halfway inside you and staring down at your twisting face with worried eyes.

You’re panting, nails having moved to dig into his arms already, “You’re too fuckin’ big.”

That makes Toji grin before he huffs, “No such thing.” and pulls back to spank your cunt with the weight of his cock a couple times. He only tops to spit at his four fingers before smacking you with his dick again, inching in afterwards and reassuring you with a rather gently murmured, “She can take me.”

Your head shakes but there’s an eager glimmer in your eye whilst you whisper back to him warningly, “Just… go slow.”

“Mmmh, I’ll try,” He tells you before leaning down to kiss your cheek and whispering, “Just for you.”

Then he's nudging his way into you—inch by inch until his chubby balls are left flush against your sweat-glossed skin and his tip is bumping against your hilt.

He looks down and sees his cock bulging against your skin. Then he thumbs at your clit and tutts—popping a pout at how puffy your pussy lips are around his dick already. “Look at that slutty pussy—she knows how to take cock juuuust fine.”

Your walls constrict around him just once and the next thing you know, Toji's rocking himself in 'n out of you perfectly. Your insides seem to mold to the shape of him in a matter of minutes, getting used to his wide size and taking him in deeper as he moves along.

The sounds of sex practically cloud the room, his cock fucking into you faster than you can keep up with and your mushy walls sucking him in farther than he can comprehend. Sweat drips off of his body and onto your and the both of you are an utter mess of one another.

Every now and then he'd lean down to kiss you but the gesture always comes shabbier than the last, lips maligning across one another whilst warm saliva is exchanged and left across both of your faces.

Your hand makes the mistake of moving to his lower abdomen and pushing at his body just a few seconds after he starts fucking you down into the mattress—the bed rocking and shaking beneath your bodies—and Toji seems ticked off for half a second.

Then he nods his chin at your wrist, "Move your fuckin' hand and feel it, feel that dick inside you. Stretchin' you out real good."

He's not entirely sure if it's his words or the way he starts plowing forward even faster, but the slippery squelches one of those invokes from you most certainly is not something he imagines. Then your moans increase in volume and Toji figures he doesn't need a neighbor scolding the two of you for this tomorrow so he brings a hand up to your chin and then props his thumb up to your bottom lip.

“Open up, doll.” He orders plainly, to which you take his finger in without him even having to ask. Toji smiles at the sight, “Atta girllll, now suck on it.”

You do exactly that for him, the action suppressing how loud your moans are for a while until his cock knocks across your cervix and leads you to bite down on his thumb. The sensation is sudden and sharp, which nearly makes Toji's eyes cross for a moment.

Words couldn't describe what that little bit of pain did to him, honestly. All you both know is that within the next few seconds, something creamy is flooding your insides and making you two many degrees hotter than you'd been earlier.

Your brains turn off in sync after that and he's just thrusting mindlessly for another minute or two, as if to make sure he's properly bred you or something. Then his fingers move to the side of your neck and his thumb slides out of your mouth—leaving a thin trail of saliva in its wake—and his entire hand goes off to cradle the back of your head.

You gasp once Toji lifts you up from the bed in one, freakishly strong tug, still humping his dick into you slightly before your mouths collide somewhere in the air. You're hauled all the way up until he's sitting back on his heels and you're appropriately sat on top of him. Both of your arms and hands are everywhere on each other's body, and it feels like something utterly depraved as taken over.

The kisses you share is a slop of tugged lips and sucked tongues, mingled with breathy moans and murmurs of your names until his hands find the underside of your thighs and move to bounce you up and down on his cock.

A whine is punctured directly out of you as you're lifted, gravity aiding Toji in plopping you right back down onto his cum-smothered base. Then his mouth finds one of your tits and he's drooling all over you.

You thought you were unsure of what had gotten into you but apparently Toji was far worse off. It's like the heat of the room was of no concern anymore. The only thing that mattered to him was having your body be thoroughly appreciated by every part of him he had to offer.

He's even mumbling into you while his tongue swirls around your nipple, “So fuckin’ hot it here,” he puffs, “Making me lose my goddamn mind—fuckin’ you like this. Hahhh.”

You're babbling nonsense with your arms wrapped around hims head, “Tojiiii-, aanh! You feel s-so good inside me.”

Which, makes him feel all proud inside for the nth time tonight, “I know I do." His hands grasp at the thick of your hips again and he squeezes your skin just once before moving you vertically around the sticky inches of his length, “Feel good when I bounce you up ‘n down my dick like this too?”

You’re nodding stupidly. Then his hands find your asscheeks and he's groping you the way he's always wanted to.

Plap after plap after plap bounces against the walls and his cum has evenly started to leak down against his balls and drip onto his sheets—which were already a mess to begin with.

Then his head flies back and his hair is sticking to his skin due to sweat, “Fuuuck, I’m gonna cum again." He warns, tipping his chin down a moment to meet eyes with you, "You ready for it, doll? Hm? Gonna fuck it into you.”

He earns another dumb nod of your head as you press into him. Whimpering, “Fill me up, Toji. Pleeease?"

The next and final load that he shoots into you comes in uneven bursts, painting your walls in a sluggish fashion before both of your bodies go still against one another. Well, safe for you shuddering as you release right along with him.

You're still hugging his head and he's still got his arms wrapped tightly around you but that only lasts for a few seconds before both of you feel another wave of heat draft over you. Then, for the first time in forever, you're remind of how you ended up in his room to begin with.

Toji lifts his head up to kiss your shoulder, “I uh-, fuck." He snorts into your skin—regretting it directly after since the sweat on both of your skin is beginning to make your bodies feel glued to one another, "I would’ve put on a condom but uhm… s’too hot for that.”

You scoff at him, “Liar, you ran out of condoms three weeks ago.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” He mumbles back.

Then he realizes there's no way you'd know that unless you were just as much of a disgusting pervert as he was and had been tracking the number of condoms he had in the same way he'd been tracking how many pairs of panties you'd allowed to go missing over the past month.

Pulling away from your shoulder and blinking, “Wait a damn minute.”

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[thezeninclan]

where they would cum — naruto boys

features: naruto, itachi, madara, kakashi, tenzou, hashirama, tobirama, kiba, shikamaru, konohamaru, asuma, deidara, jiraiya, and genma

minor notes: these drabbles include a female reader who exists in the village of konoha as a shinobi and no uchiha massacre has taken place!

on your belly

naruto — there's something dangerous, nearly feral, about the way he looks down at you when he leans over your body. its like kurama breaks free and takes over the ninja, like the whiskers on his face darken to black, his eyes glowing red and bright and ferocious— and it thrills you. utterly, and completely thrills you. naruto smirks, and in any other moment you might have been embarrassed about the fact that you both know then and there that he can smell your arousal. but you're too far gone to care. it's all you can do to hold on, clawing at his broad back, clutching your legs around his hips as you ride through the pleasure of his cock against your insides. he pulls out at the last moment, the way your fingers wind together as both of your hands work furiously over his cock, and the sinful moan that spills from his lips as he comes is almost enough to send you headlong into another orgasm. his cum splatters over your belly, icy hot and plentiful, and you expect him to collapse on top of you, caging you beneath his firm body and holding you there, as he usually does, but this time his holds his ground. his hands are at your belly, fingers moving through his spend as he works it into your skin, spreading it across the softness he loves to kiss, as though marking you with his scent, marking you as his. he growls, nearly purrs, and as you meet his feral red eyes, you both know kurama is pleased.

itachi — he loves the way you can quiet his mind, send the swirling storm of thoughts into quiet symbiosis, cooing the firestorm. you take him in his arms, make him feel protected, instead of what is usually the other way around. it's intoxicating, to be around you. when he makes love to you, when he wraps his arms around you, and your legs wind around him, he loves how you pull him down until he's chest to chest with you, like he can become one with you completely. you'll try for a child soon, he knows. but for now he contents himself with pulling out of you just enough to release on your stomach, to feel the warmth of your skin on his most sensitive part, to run his fingers through the liquid and it excites him to no end to picture little uchiha's running around the compound.

on your chest

yamato — there's something about the way you look, flushed, breathless, dripping with sweat, that overcomes him, makes him feel half wild as he looks down at you. he can't tear himself away from you, not even for a moment, and has been late for many a meeting because of this weakness, much to kakashi's delight and his chagrin. but every once in a while, when he feels particularly wound up, pent up, that he indulges his secret sin. he pulls out of you as he feels his orgasm bridging, a frisson of pleasure building at the base of his spine and rolling through him like a jolt of lightning, and rolls over to the side. your eyes are half lidded as you look up at him, confusion bridging into understanding as you recognize the familiar pose. even without asking you roll into a sitting position, as though reading his mind, and kami he loves you so much, even in the throes of passion and pleasure he drops a hand to your cheek to stroke it lovingly. he works his cock quickly as you push your breasts together, flinching slightly as your fingers pinch your nipple, still sensitive from the force of your orgasm, and the breathy little moan you let out is enough to send him over the edge. his cum sinks onto your skin, slipping down your breasts and onto your stomach, a fist of prideful pleasure tightening in his belly. kami he just loves you so much.

konohamaru — somehow, he knows, just knows, that this is all naruto's fault. he blames the hokage for having made his introduction into the world of sex be all bare breasts and long legged, until the memories of his sexy jutsu captivating his adolescent. even as an adult konohamaru has the same weakness, and the day he had met you he knew all at once that you checked all his boxes in perfect harmony. and when he's leaning over you, his spend dotted across your perfect chest like spilled pearls, your face flushed and eyes half lidded from the throes of pleasure, the aftershocks of your orgasm still trembling through you, he can't quite but thank the gods for naruto.

on your face

deidara — its a work of art on its own, the way your eyes look as you gaze up at him. the way your lips are swollen and half parted, wet by the tongue that drags across them seductively enough to make him dive back down into your arms. but there's nothing more beautiful than the way you look on your knees, his cock kissed against your lips, his spend streaked across your face like oil paint on a canvas. he smirks, near feral, and just the sight is enough to make him half hard again. he never feels more pleasure at the notion that art truly is an explosion.

shikamaru — he let out a long, sated sigh, breathing out a curl of smoke and thinking about the fact that he had never been this happy. your fingers clawed at the skin of his naked chest, nails dragging across his nipple in a way that made him flinch and his hips stutter, pleasure-pain rushing through his chest as he moaned. your fingers wound absently around the fabric of the yukata you had hastily pushed down around his waist, leaving his ass bare and ready to be fondled by you as you guided the thrust of his hips. your mouth was so hot, so wet and warm, that he wished he could live in it. not that he spent much time free from the tangle of your limbs, with the amount of time you spent fucking, the honeymoon period having never ended after your marriage three years prior. he gasped out a moan, leaning forward in his zaisu, and winding a hand through your beautiful hair, warning you silently that he was about to reach his peak. his cum marked your face, spilling across your cheeks, your lips, your chin, and you looked so beautiful he couldn't resist kissing you, his tongue entering your mouth, his hand cupping your bare breast, both of you already knowing he wasn't going to be going anywhere for the next hour.

on your ass

kiba — it's his animal instincts. it must be. it makes him feel wild, ferocious to see you like this, on your hands and knees, your hair messy as its tossed over your shoulders, your back bowed to tilt your hips up towards his. your skin is glistening with a mix of heady sweat and saliva, because he just can't stop himself from licking you, tasting you, mapping every inch of your body with his tongue. your thighs are parted, wet for the same reasons, and he longs to taste you again, to bury himself between your legs and eat and eat and eat until the neverending starvation in his belly is sated. but he can't, not yet, not now. his cock feels fit to burst, and he can't stand being parted from you for a second longer, pushing back into you until his hips are flush to your ass, and kami you feel so fucking good, he can't stop the growl that leeches from this lips. he comes quickly, pulling out with rabid ferocity and spilling over the curves of your perfect ass, unable to resist biting into it and leaving another bite mark among the sea of half healed ones.

tobirama — his brother had told him it would be like this one day, like him and mito, had told him that one day he would know what it meant to be completely consumed by another. but before you, tobirama had though his brother a fool. even worse, a god of shinobi, brought to heel by something so simple as love. but from the very first moment he had come across you, had taken your hand to shake and seen the way your lips arched into a smile, he realized he was a fool too. it's like heaven and hell, like sweet escape and even sweeter torture, to be with you, to be apart from you, even for just the moment it takes to pull out of your sweet warmth. but there's something wicked about the way you look covered in his spend, the way your ass reddens from the slap of his hips, the way your sweat speckled skin looks glistens like diamonds. kami, he truly is a fool, but much like his brother, there's no place he'd rather be than in your arms.

on your pussy

jiraiya — the toad sage can't help but be mesmerized by everything about you. the way your hair drapes around your shoulders, the mastery of your genjutsu, the way your eyes shine in the moonlight, the softness of your skin, the brightness of your smile. but fuck, if one of the most impressive things about you wasn't the way your pussy sucked him in. you're both sexual beings, he knows that. knows that you've had other lovers before him, but he couldn't tell— not from the way your pussy sucked him in like a tight-fist, like a virgin. it was near agony to pull out, to not cum in you like jiraiya so obviously enjoyed, but during times like this, when the cleanup was too messy, or you two had stolen the time for a quickie, when he forced himself to pull out as he came, splattering your skin with drops of cum that nearly sizzled your beautiful skin. you moaned, looking so beautiful covered in his spend that he couldn't help but seize your lips in a messy kiss, sighing in pleasure as he began to mentally draft the next volume of icha icha.

genma — he was a pervert. he knew it, you knew it. half of konoha knew it. he kissed you like a fiend, all tongue and teeth and exchanged spit, addicted to the way your body felt beneath his, all soft curves to his hard edges. your hand fisted in his loose hair, tilting his head down towards you, so you could kiss even more deeply, practically consuming each other. your legs were wrapped around his naked hips, his favorite belt, and he thrust into you with abandon, unable to resist the wet heat of your pussy, still fluttering around him after your orgasm. he was gonna cum soon, he knew from the reckless thrust of his hips and the fist of pleasure forming below his stomach and there wasn't enough time to properly make love to you since you were both supposed to report to the hokage in five minutes. genma pulled out begrudgingly, cum spilling across the lips of your pussy instead of inside you as he longed to do. he admired his handiwork, breathless and feeling lose from release of pleasure, and couldn't help but run his fingers through the spend, dragging it across your skin like he was painting. yeah maybe he was a pervert, but he loved it, and you loved it— and at the end of the day that was all he cared about. you

in your mouth

asuma — he's addicted to you, he thinks. utterly and completely addicted. he's never been dependent on anything in his life, not even his cigarettes, not the way he is to you. he wishes he could retire, could spend all day every day in your arms, in bed with you, cooking with you, eating with you, showing with you, sleeping with you. it's heaven, or the closest he's ever come, and the sole reason is you. he fucks you languidly, relishing in every part of you, the clench of your pussy, the bounce of your unbound breasts, the salty wetness of sweat on your skin he draws up with his tongue. asuma pulls out begrudgingly, desperate to chase the tightness, the heat of your insides, but the tiny thread of reason he clung to was telling him otherwise. instead he takes himself in hand, swinging a leg over your body to perch on your stomach, his cock brushing the plush suppleness of your lips. he cums across your perfect mouth, moaning too loudly when he sees the way your tongue darts out to lick your lips, and he could almost cum again just as the sight. asuma collapses beside you in the bed you share, pulling you into his strong arms and kissing you deeply. he wants to breed you, to get you full and pregnant and fill your house with little asumas, but for now this was enough.

kakashi — your eyes, he thinks. it's the way your eyes seem to pin him in place as you look up at him. he has more than enough experience with the look of fear on an enemies face when his eyes are upon them, and he thinks he must have much the same look on his as he meets your gaze. you've raised yourself up on the legs folded beneath you, one hand lazily stroking his bare thigh, your nails digging just firmly enough into his skin to cause a frisson of pain to rush up his spine, the other hand on his cock, doing things to him that he can only describe as sinful. your lips are swollen and reddened from the length of your lovemaking, your tongue dragging down his cock and paying special attention to his head. he gasps out a moan, the sound like it was dragged from the depths of his belly. his hips jerk forward as he comes, automatically seeking the warmth and comfort of your touch. he comes like a blast of raikiri, barely having the energy to do more than fall to his knees before you. he weakly opens his eyes, and nearly goes mute. his spend is on your tongue, your lips, the corner of your mouth, and the way you look drinking it down is utterly sinful.

inside of you

madara — there was no better place for madara than between your thighs, not the battlefield, not the winners circle. no, he'd give it all up just to stay pillowed between your legs. just as your happiness elevated his, your pleasure heightened his. when his hands push apart your thighs, your arms wrapping around his shoulders to pull him down flush against you. it's as though the gods had made his body just for yours, the way your hips fit into the cradle of his, the way his thighs made the perfect hook for your legs, the mold of your lips against mouth. kami, it was a miracle. he hates to leave you, even more to pull out of you, not when you're so hot, so tight, so wet against him. to feel himself spend inside of you, awash with pleasure and contentment, is the most powerful feeling in the world.

hashirama — there was nothing in the world hashirama loved more in the world than the way you felt in his arms. the way your bodies moved in unison as he made love to you, when your arms were wrapped around his shoulders, your body twitching in his arms as pleasure ran through you, the way your breath mingled as you kissed and kissed and kissed. your pleasure was as important to him as his own, as it was his highest order of duty to provide for you in every way. and the best part, the highest honor and highest pleasure, was to come with you. to feel you clench around his cock, tight as a fist and so utterly warm that hashirama was sure you could melt him more than you already had, and the feeling of your body sinking fully into pleasure, tight as a coil as you both achieved orgasm at the same time was the highest accomplishment of his life.

also posted on ao3

[tonycries]

Cola

Synopsis. Hot DlLFs.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Higuruma x Reader, Gojo x Reader, Ino x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem!reader, DlLFS (and MlLFS too!), age gaps (reader and JJK men are ALWAYS aduIts), arranged marriages (Toji), cIan Ieader!Toji, sIight exhíbitíonism, sIight bóndage (Nanami), mentions of kids, bréeding, manhandIing, matíng presses, HEADLOCKS, p sIapping, p talking, spítting, fíngering, rings and píercings, rockstar!Geto, headIines, use of ‘mómmy’ (Ino), miIking, overstím, súgar dáddies, running from it, oIder men, síxty-níne, talking you through it, pressing down, making it fit, he’s BIG, counting inches, overworked Higuruma, creampíes, cúmpIay, sIight cúmfIation, pIot, pet names, swéaring.

A/N. MWAHAHAH.

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - The Arrangement.

“O-oh, sh—”

“Shhhhh.” Toji’s voice is dangerous. Low. His chin was hooked into the crook of your neck - and you’re getting pushed back down, down, dooooown his- 

“Oh my…” Your mouth waters, weak arm reaching out to grasp the edge of the futon.

But Toji’s guiding it to his shaggy salt-and-pepper hair. Making you tug. Making you wrench.

His other palm - calloused after what you assume to be countless years of training his Heavenly Restriction - comes up to plaster over your mouth. “Unless ya want them to hear.” He mutters, referring to the council of elders seated behind the sliding doors. 

You knew it was part of the ceremony: to make sure that you and the older clan leader…affirmed your new union.

An arranged marriage, of course. The marriage of the century in jujutsu society’s highest circles. 

But even after a lavish wedding, and an even more lavish title suited to you, you still couldn’t believe that you were married to Zenin Toji.

Perhaps expected considering that the two of you had met just a few weeks ago; you’d announced to your council that you were ready for marriage. And they’d then presented you with a list of all the potential candidates for husband—every eligible bachelor from the Kamo clan to the rather obscure Fujiwara clan. The list had gone on and on with their names and ages.

And at the very end you’d spotted—

Zenin Toji—Age: 38 (once divorced). 

As soon as the elders had noticed you focusing on that one name, they’d dismissed you with a nervous chuckle. “Oh, that’s just Toji. Ignore him, he’s just there out of obligation-”

“But why would I ignore him?”And that had effectively shut them up.

Although what you really wanted were more answers.

Toji.

Toji.

Most of the other candidates ranged across their twenties, and they were names you’d heard of in mere passing during those stuffy clan functions. Toji, however, was beyond that age range and once divorced—and you’d heard of him almost too well. You knew him without ever knowing him.

You’d heard of the newly-appointed Zenin clan leader as he fought against every single elder to claim his rightful title as head - the first one since…ever without a speck of cursed energy.

You’d heard of the terror of the Zenin clan - or so they whispered - who could bring down battalions with a single swipe of his cursed weapons. He didn’t need cursed energy—and what they feared above all was the power of raw humanity underneath it.

But…you’d also heard of the merciful man. The first Zenin clan leader to grant his wife a divorce when she wished for it, thus leaving him printed once more upon a paper listing jujutsu society’s bachelors. 

Leaving him impressioned in your mind.

Zenin Toji was an enigma you wanted to understand.

And you laughed at the expressions upon your elders’ faces as you announced that the sole candidate you were interested in was none other than the notorious Toji. You could count on one hand how many had readily agreed to your union with the older man—and that would be exactly zero fingers. 

However, the meeting had proceeded as tradition dictated. Your council of elders reached out to the uptight council of the Zenins - and they’d reached out to re-confirm thrice that the man you were really looking for was Toji. Wasn’t he much older? Wasn’t he fearsome? Wasn’t he difficult to understand?

You waved off their worries and met him over a fragrant tea ceremony. 

To be quite honest; there wasn’t much talking between the two of you - although the Zenin elders kept up a constant stream of chatter with the elders of your own family. Meanwhile you simply looked at Toji over the rim of your ceramic cup—and—watched—

And he met your gaze just as intensely.

By the end of the tea ceremony, you nudged your elders to proclaim your approval for a union.

And Toji nodded his own approval.

The wedding preparations were accomplished in a week. It was a wedding for the history books - you heard that your council of elders were pushing to get it written in already - and it ended off with a lavish banquet that lasted into the long, long hours of the night. 

As sunlight started seeping into the horizon, you and Toji got up from your seats at the head of the table. And you made your way to the master bedroom—where rows upon rows of elders sat outside in preparation for the consummation.

They were here to hear you-

“Fuck.” You can’t stop the sudden whimper that escapes you at the feeling of Toji hiking up one of his muscular thighs. He still had his wedding robes on - dishevelled upon his frame, the graze of expensive Zenin cotton n’ silk makes you shiver—

And as soon as you do, you feel one of his large palms settle at the base of your spine.

Toji keeps you pinned down - deliciously helpless - once he reaches that upright leg forwards and rests his heel atop your scalp. Stepping on your sweaty crown. Keeping you pinned in one place as he fucks you- with a sheer audacity that makes your jaw drop.

“Careful.” Toji’s low tone trundles out. You’re bent into such a shape that it makes his cock thicker- stretchin’ out your snug channel with a sultry squeeeelch! “Keep your mouth open like that and you’ll catch flies.”

Leaning down as far as he could, he then spits.

“Or you’ll catch me.”

A few more vicious strokes that leave you gaping.

A few more changing angles- Toji was the type to not just straightly thrust. He was stirring his cock ‘round in somewhat circular motions of his hips as he pummeled inside, managing to hit eeeeevery single nerve-ended spot inside you. “And- hah, and we wouldn’t wanna explain that to those old toads, heh?” Asking you. And then…not you. “Isn’t that right, fuckers?”

There’s restless murmuring from outside. 

“W-well, maybe if you—fuuuuuck.” Just as soon as you’re mid-sentence - as though Toji had been waiting for this exact moment - he reaches forwards and slams! his ruddied tip into you hard enough that you can feel him in your damn throat. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-” 

“Loud.” Scoffing. “Though I bet they already know what’s happening- hah.”

You were in utter shambles. 

Toji’s cock was sensually curved towards the right - the perfect angle to spot those areas where you were most sensitive and stimulate them until you were crying. “Y-you’re so shameless—!”

With a roll of his forest-green eyes, the clan leader crouches his body further forwards and accelerates his pace. His heel pressing down even harder.

With this position he had you in, Toji couldn’t keep his palm glued to your drivelling maw anymore. And he was letting it aaaaaall out—the more n’ more pretty moans that were leaving you, the more he’s speeding up his hips. Purposefully thumping his blushin’ red tip down your most precious spots. 

And as if that wasn’t enough, he’s using his free hand to sift apart your stuffy pussy. Pressin’ aside your folds and getting a good eyeful of your entrance - getting flooded with his rock-hard inches, and then emptied out for him to do it all over again. And again. And again and again and—“And who was it that decided to marry me?”

You don’t know what’s hitting you harder: the shock of being called out, or the sudden wad of saliva that he’s spitting between your legs. “Well…me…”

Toji nods. “Pretty young thing like you…for what reason could you want to marry- me-” Every space between his words was punctured with a targeted strike to your g-spot. “Money? Name? Power?”

Your head’s getting foggy - you don’t even realize that you’re drooling before Toji looks down and tuts. He watches as a slick puddle formulates underneath you—“Did you wanna marry this ol’ clan leader for power, doll? S’that what you wanted?”

As much as you could, you’re shaking your head- difficult, given the way he still had the heel of his foot on you.

“No? Then what?” Toji pretends to think. “Hmmm, could it be that your clan elders pressured you into this, doll?” And just at that moment, he stops- even though it seems as if he wanted to say more. “I’ll kill you all if—”

It wasn’t targeted towards you. 

But you’re vehemently denying—“No. No. Not at all…” Sobs and sultry moans strangle in your throat, and your poor, poor hips are driving back into his as much as you could. “Please- oh, I j-just wanted—”

“Let me think.” Now that he’d started his vigorous pace up again, your eardrums were crackling with the constant pap-pap-pap! of Toji’s toned hips hitting yours. He was just so large - in every possible way, it was as though he was engulfing you with his massive body, with his shaft stretchin’ out your insides in ways you’ve never experienced before. “Is it because- haaaaah…” Toji breathes, the cloud of his heated breath wafting down your arched spine. “Is it because you knew that those other- boys couldn’t fuck you as well as I could?”

Your jaw drops- “Fuck.”

But it seems that Toji had found his footing. He drags you even harder against him - the ramming of your two bodies almost violently shaking the flooring beneath. “Is it because you knew that- mmm, this pussy would always be satisfied with me?” Whatever little jostling you’re experiencing at his movements, he’s considering it a nod. “Is it because you’d been greedy? Because you’ve been yearning-”

Somehow, he’s tipping his head backwards and managing to perfect a stream of spit down onto your stuffed cunt.

“-for someone more mature. Someone that knows how to handle a pussy, doll?” Voice dipped in lust. “Have you been yearning for Zenin Toji to fuck you properly?”

“Y-yes—” You pitch out softly. Sniffling. Seeing stars behind your eyelids. “Toji, m’so close…”

“So cum, then?” He snickers, as though it should be the most obvious thing in the world. “What’re you waiting for? Permission?” Leaning back and projecting his voice - though, not for you. “Just so y’know, I’m gonna make my wife cum.” 

“Oh-oh my god—” The words crackle in your throat as a final bash to your syrupy-sweet spot leaving you careening into your high. Stars of pleasure burst behind your shuttered lids - and you’re dragged through wave upon wave of white-hot bliss. 

It overtakes you like nothing you’ve ever felt before.

And Toji was only more than happy to prolong them using his length. Hitting you right when your peaks were at their highest - and if you were in the right state, then you’d wonder how he even managed to time them - and making your veins feel molten within. Making you whimper and thrash into him. Thrashing and thrashing—fucked like you’ve never been before through your orgasm.

You’re so hazy afterwards that you barely even register the shuffling outside the bedroom - as the elders started making their way back to the banquet. Mission accomplished, you suppose.

And Toji takes his foot off your head. 

“Haaaaah, fuck.” He hisses. “Want to give them an encore, my wife?”

You couldn’t nod faster.

Before you know it, he’s tipping his head back and calling out - at the elders—

“Get ready for an encore, fuckers.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Parent-teacher DATING?!

“Ms. Teacher…” 

Itadori’s sweet, sweet voice breaks through your conversation with one of the parents; and you’re looking down to see him clasping one end of your flower-patterned apron. Pink brows furrowed. Chubby cheeks puffed. And how could anyone resist that face?

So throwing an apologetic smile at the parent, you’re leaning down slightly so that you could hear the little boy better. “Yes, Yuji?”

He cups a hand over his mouth then leans in towards your ear as if to whisper. “I have a secret to tell you.” And he does not whisper.

Still, you bite back a giggle and ask. “Oh, really? How exciting. Do I get to know that secret, Yuji?”

He nods.

Then leans in once more-

“My papa has a big, big crush on y-”

“Yuji—!”

You didn’t have to look up to see that it was none other than Nanami Kento, Itadori’s father, pushing past a few gossiping parents and kids playing jumprope- heading in your direction. He quickly clasps Itadori’s arm and gently tugs the boy away, “I am so, so sorry—I have no idea what’s gotten into him-” Nanami pinches the top of his nosebridge with a sigh. “He seems to have gotten it into his head that I have f-feelings for you, and…”

You watch, almost astounded, as the ever-stoic Nanami’s ears burn bright red.

“A-and I sincerely apologize if he made you uncomfortable in any way-”

“Oh, no.” You’re raising your hands up and fervently shaking your head. “He didn’t make me uncomfortable at all. Did you, Yuji?”

“Yup!” Those tufts of pink hair atop his head bounce as he nods as well, beaming - happy to see that you were on his side, at the very least. He then turns back to Nanami. “I didn’t make Ms. Teacher uncomfortable, papa. I just told her what you told me-”

“Sunshine…” Nanami grumbles, though with less panic in his voice this time.

And you’re biting back a smile as you look between the handsome father and his son; it’d been two years since Nanami had adopted Itadori, according to what the man had told you when he’d first enrolled the boy in Tokyo Jujutsu Elementary. Since then, you’ve had the privilege of watching over the father-son duo as they become closer, as they found family in one another, as they opened themselves up to both the school and you. 

And although you knew you shouldn’t have favorites as a teacher - you can’t deny that one of the best parts of your day was seeing the two. 

Yes, the two.

It didn’t quite help that Nanami Kento was the talk amongst the single ladies and men at pick-up. Tall. Tender. With his broad shoulders and his blond hair—always slicked back, not even a single strand out of line. 

Nanami was the type of man to hold doors open for students, other parents, and teachers alike - he’d happily stand there for half an hour as an entire grade passed by, if he had to.

Nanami was the type of man to not worry about what anyone thought of him as he let his energetic son paste stickers all over him, or use the play make-up he’d snagged from Kugisaki.

Nanami was the type of man to buy you a large bouquet of roses for Teacher’s Day- roses. And he’d apologized for at least fifteen minutes about not meaning any sort of innuendo, and he’d completely understand if you didn’t want to take them—you’d cut him off then n’ there by taking them with a gracious thank you. Even if others at pick-up shot you knowing smiles. 

So could you blame yourself if you happened to form a crush on the man?

And hearing what Itadori had to say about it now…

“I wouldn’t mind, y’know.” You speak once you’d ushered Itadori to play with some of his friends—Fushiguro and Kugisaki had just been dropped off. And Nanami was still standing next to you, watching as his son scampered off after causing perhaps the most chaos he’s ever experienced in his life. 

But ah…your voice was low enough that it couldn’t be heard by anyone around you two. Perhaps not even Nanami himself- but of course, he heard.

Of course, he heard.

He turns to you with widened eyes, “I uh…I- excuse me?”

You turn back to him with a grin, “How about coffee sometime this week?”

“I have a better plan.” As soon as the first bout of shyness wears off, he’s clearing his crackling throat and answering you. “How about dinner?”

.

.

.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuh-fuck.” Nanami wrenches between clenched teeth. His hot breath sticks against the side of your throat; and every single puff makes your skin erupt with perspiration. 

Which worked for him—it just let the movements between your two ravenous bodies proceed even faster, slipperier, sloppier. Nanami has you pressed flat against his neat mattress, in a bedroom that was humble and meticulously organized - and with Itadori at Fushiguro’s for a sleepover, the two of you could let those ancient bedsprings creak as much as they liked. 

Nanami could fuck you as hard as you liked.

He’s grinding that golden happy trail into your front; both palms pressed flatly atop your inner thighs to keep them open. To keep you stretched as faaaaar apart as you could go—because fuck- Nanami’s cock was thick enough that he had to pin you down n’ squeeeeeeze his inches inside as far as they could go. 

Rubbin’ his prominent veins along your walls. Entire body tensing up whenever you clench-

“Fuuuuuuck.” With a heavy sigh, he’s letting his head tip backwards. And honestly—you don’t think you’d ever seen a more attractive sight. 

You’ve always known that Nanami was ripped underneath those office button-ups of his - but this was damn-near Herculean. The way his shoulders were defined and pulled taut as they closed in on you, the way his chest was absolutely luscious—you almost wanted to take a bite. And you’d guessed that with energetic Itadori as a son, he hadn’t had the time to hit the gym lately.

Because there was a layer of thickness over his muscles that left Nanami softer and stronger- the soft curve of his belly pushes down on your core. 

Jostling your body back n’ forth with every honed thrust.

Banging at the back of your cervix and your throat- “Fuck. It feels so good, Kento.” 

“S-soooooo fucking good.” And you wonder which one of you two was more gone on your syrupy cunt: you or him. Nanami struggles to keep his damn head up- collapsing into the crook of your neck and letting out botched groans- every single time his sensitive tip slid uuuuuup your channel into its deepest depths. He almost sounded as though he was in pain as he wept—“F-forgive me, darling.”

Perking your head off the plush pillows, “What for, Kento?”

“Well it’s just…” And his foggy glasses were still on his face - which Nanami pushes up his nose bridge. “I haven’t felt this good in—forever. So forgive me if I’m a little…”

And then he’s surging his hips forwards and giving you a good thwack! with the rounded end of his shaft. Enough to make stars appear in your vision-

“-rough.”

And then it’s like the floodgates have opened.

Because Nanami’s grip on you grows hard enough to leave fucking nail marks, his sweat splashes with the urgency of his movements. “And I wanted to f-fuck you all niiiiiice and slow like this pretty pussy deserves.” Those strong arms keep manhandling you open as he shovels straight into you. “W-wanted to show you that a mature man like me could- hngh, make you feel the best you’ve ever felt.”

“But I already do…” You huff out, arms thrown needily around his neck. 

Yet Nanami doesn’t seem to hear—he doesn’t even seem to register. At least, the only acknowledgement that you get of your response is the way his body flinches ever-so-slightly at the mere sound of your voice. “And yet…” Those hazel-brown eyes of his widen as they run down your body, ultimately resting where your pussy was bloated all ‘round him. “And yet, one kiss of these pretty lips and I’m done for.”

“D-done for…” You repeat - mostly because you don’t know what else to do.

Don’t know what else you’re capable of doing other than wrapping your weak legs around his waist. Your hamstrings stretch and scream; and you’re sobbing yourself as his pace seems to accelerate.

“I can feel myself…” Nanami speaks through a watery mouth. “-getting fucking addicted—shit, like some hormonal punk. I should know better. A man my age…”

“Oh- oh, Kento.”

“I should know better- I should fucking know better.” He admonishes himself - though that doesn’t stop or even slow down the feral pap-pap-paps! of his pelvis hitting yours. Through scrunched-up eyes, he’s gazing upon you. “C-can’t believe you got some old man like me-” Despite your instant protests. “-to finally break.”

After a few more sudden strikes - almost animalistic - you’re managing to string together enough syllables. “But…I don’t mind, Kento.”

And that—that might just be the one thing that makes him falter. “Pardon?” He blinks up at you with glazed-over eyes.

Nodding, “I promise I don’t mind.” In fact, you’re tugging him in with a fistful of his blond strands between your fingers. “I- ngh! want you to go even harder…if you can-”

“Of course I can, my love.” The both of you are startled by his instant answer. “I-I mean, if you know that it means I might leave a few marks and—even more marks.” Perhaps most notably on your spongy cervix, welcoming his bashing thrusts.

But you don’t mind. Like you said.

You’re nodding even harder, “Yes, please.”

So polite. How could he ever refuse?

And in the blink of an eye, the blond-haired man leans over to clasp that patterned tie draped over his bedpost. It’d gotten thrown there sometime after the frenzy of getting home - quite convenient for when Nanami wanted to throw it loosely over his clammy neck and give you the other end to hold onto—

“Don’t be afraid to pull if it gets too much.” He puffs out at you in a breezy breath.

“Too much?” You ogle up at his handsome face. You half-jokingly wondered whether the bed - and perhaps you - would be in one piece by the time that Itadori gets home tomorrow. It was going to be a never-ending night…

“Mhm, because this is going to be rough, darling.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - Controversy.

WHO IS ROCKSTAR HEARTTHROB GETO SUGURU’S GIRLFRIEND? HOW CAN WE BE HER?!

GOLD DIGGER?! BASSIST OF 6EYES SHUTS DOWN MALICIOUS RUMORS SURROUNDING BEAU: SAYS THEY ARE ‘BULLSHIT’. 

DILF OFF THE MARKET: GETO SUGURU CONFIRMS RELATIONSHIP OF ‘YEARS’ HE SAYS. 

Everyone knew of Geto Suguru. Or so it seemed when they were screaming his name and cursing yours—everyone wanted to be with him. 

Or be him.

Who wouldn’t? Thick rings. Grey-black hair. Feline smile.

A 6’2, long-haired dreamboat that just-so-happened to be the bassist of the hottest rock band on the charts right now: 6Eyes. They’d been discovered quite early on - when they’d just been out of high school, actually - and had maintained a steady presence in the music scene ever since. Shattering record after record and filling stadium after stadium. By the time you’d gone with some of your college friends to one of their concerts, they were already titans in the industry—and you’d been an instant fan. 

So imagine your surprise when your friend announced that one of the security had invited your group backstage. 

That was the night you’d met Geto Suguru - you’d locked eyes and the both of you had just known.

You signed that NDA. You met for dates under disguises. And you’d even met his young adopted daughters- oh, you adored them.

Several months later, when TMZ or some other site had broken the story of Geto secretly dating a fan over ten years younger than him - and that was when scandal ensued. The fandom was rabid—and you understood.

Though Geto, who was rather used to biting headlines and speculation, told you that the whole thing would blow over soon enough- you holed up in your shared penthouse. You turned off your social media notification. You tried not to turn on any celebrity news channel. 

And you decided: the very least you could do is make a good first impression…

“Easy now…easy there…” Geto holds the recorder in one hand n’ the side of your hips in his other. You’re maddeningly aware of both the rolling tape and the way his puckered, pretty tip is getting guided to your entrance—“Don’t strain yourself now. Trust Suguru.”

Just the very first inch of it slipping lusciously between your pussylips and easing inside.

Geto was always so thick, donning numerous veins that creep up the sides of his shaft in zig-zagging patterns. And the sheer girth of him intruding is enough to make you gasp-

“Mmm, that’s good.” The older man murmurs with a smile- long, greying hair forming a curtain around the two of you. “Let’s try again. A little louder this time.” Before he reels his hips back the mere inches he’s squeezed inside, and then rammin’ right back in again - it sounds the loudest squelch! as you’re taking even more of him. “Ohhhh, that’s good. Maybe I can use that as the outro, heh?”

“Maybe just use it for the entire ch-chorus.” You hiss.

“Trying to take my spotlight?” Geto leans down to kiss your swollen lips- or so you think. He’s pressing his pierced mouth against yours and gnawin’ down on your lower lip.

“Scared of- mmpf. Scared of being ousted by the young new talents?”

The edges of his lips curling upwards. “A rock veteran like me? Oh, I don’t think I have anything to be scared of…”

And you can only moan straight into his greedy, greedy maw as you’re jostled back and forth. Geto’s thrusts were oh-so-merciless and puncturing deeeeep into your womb—using the smooth Prince Albert’s piercing atop his flared tip, he’s torching every hidden spot and nerve-end inside. Mazin’ around your walls and pushing into those little ridges that just made your back arch into him-

His eyes crinkle at the edges as he smiles. 

“Hey hey-” The only thing snapping you out of your frenzy is Geto’s sharp tuts. He stalls your restless hips by hooking his fingers into your thighs and throwing them over his broad shoulders- dragging you back into him. “Don’t run away, gorgeous—the studio session’s not over yet.”

“I wasn’t running away.” You huff.

“Sure seemed like it to me.” He grins - that silver piercing of his glinting in the dim lighting. It was the type of Cheshire-cat grin that you knew wouldn’t bode well for you…and as soon as you’re thinking about it, Geto opens his sensual mouth and spits—straight between your lips.

The wad lands softly on your tongue.

And Geto himself reaches a second ringed hand up to close your jaw- to urge you to swallow. “Remember to keep those vocals hydrated, gorgeous. We’re getting to the good part now.”

You think you could gasp at the audacity—but what’s leaving you instead are a series of long, lewd moans. Mewls. Pleas. 

He’s drawing them out over and over again by hiking your thighs up his shoulders and pressing you into a mean mating press- lunging his body down into yours. Crushing your pliable self underneath him. Slashing your cervix with loooooong thrusts and his ropey precum puddling sweetly at the back of your pussy.

“Yeah- yeah, louder now.” Pushing the recorder even closer. “Louder, girl.”

“I am—oh.” With the way he was fucking you like he almost hated you - though it was rather the opposite - your sentences warble with hiccups and gasps. The lines of his veins were somehow massaging the exact hidden spots that drove you wild. 

“You got this.”

“Fuck-”

“Louder. S’just you and me.” This was exactly what he wanted to hear - his favorite melody was you. “Just a bit of chopping up n’ remixing- this is perfect. Gonna sound so fuckin’ pretty to my bass.”

“Fuh-feels so good-”

“Mhmmm, I know, gorgeous. Now let the listeners know.” 

Making your noise pitch upwards in volume. 

After a few more strokes, he bores down at you with a thoughtful expression. “Now…why don’tcha try calling me ‘Sugu’ for the recording?”

“You want me to be sappy? Okay, rockstar.” You’re unable to bite your tongue fast enough- though your snapping only makes him even more excited.

Amethyst eyes glistening. “Oh, don’t be a diva just yet, newbie.” The older musician brings the audio recorder closer to catch your every breath, “Trust me. I’ve been in this industry for a loooooong time- c’mon now. Listen to your- heh, vocal coach—say ‘Sugu’.”

How you loved riling him up just as much as he did to you. “Then give me something good to moan for, baby.”

“Don’t test my patience, superstar.”

Though he does as you say. 

You should have expected it all the same; the rockstar had mapped out every single good spot inside you. And it was with a near-photographic memory that he’s inching his length backwards- until it was just his lavish red tip lickin’ up your entrance.

Just for a second…just for two…

Before slamming into your g-spot so hard n’ suddenly that you almost sob.

Making your cunt mold to the exact texture of his circular piercing- hitting your sensitive area first, before then pushing his smooth tip into it as well. You’re feeling every bit of him—and you’re making sure that your future audiences can hear it, too. 

“S-Sugu—!” You’re thrashing in his arms- and he’s crashing and crashing his hips into you. Gluing the heated, stinging pink skin of his pelvis against yours so ferally that you can’t keep up with his pace no matter how fast you’re attempting to buck and bounce.

“Oh, that one’s going in the intro for sure.” He titters. 

“S’fucking mean.” You whimper as he pushes down on your lower half - purposefully, so that his scruffy happy trail scratches your clit.

“Sugu knows best.” So sweetly, he kisses your forehead—and you wonder whether the loud smacking sound that he leaves behind is more for the recorder or to make you squirm. Shy, much? “Now how about I fuck you pregnant n’ we just announce the baby on the album?”

You pause for a second - before a smile twitches at your lips. “A rockstar baby? You read my mind.”

He reciprocates. “Always knew you were made f’me.”

The headlines were sure to love this.

♡ CHOSO KAMO - MY UNCLE’S GF?!

Someone had suggested playing two truths and a lie:

You weren’t a lot older than Choso- at least in his eyes. That didn’t matter to him.

Choso has always wanted you.

He’s over that now, though.

Choso’s palms are sweaty ‘round his lightweight beer as he utters the words; words just a little louder than he intended them to be. Maybe that was the pre-game finally kicking in—but he couldn’t blame it on that, either. Had it been called three truths and a lie, then Choso would have also confessed that he was stone-cold sober as he murmurs two of his deepest secrets to the little circle of drunk college kids. 

And you.

You…you’re looking at him like you’d already guessed he’d say that.

Had he really been that obvious? Choso first met you three years ago, during his sophomore year in college, when he’d gone home for the holidays—and discovered that, this year, Sukuna had been dragged home, too. Except…his uncle hadn’t come alone this time.

He’d brought along- you. 

You were the one to greet him at the door—and Choso remembers his breath catching in his chest. He remembers feeling his heart bang against his ribcage. He remembers his eyes widening- and his mouth gaping stupidly as you introduced yourself.

So caught up in you, he’d been forced to ask Sukuna for your name again-

“Back off.” His uncle had scoffed, crimson eyes narrowing. Honestly - Ryomen Sukuna was the only person alive that could make cotton candy-pink hair look intimidating. “Don’t think I don’t see the way yer looking at her.”

He’d probably stammered something intelligible-

“Look all ya want- if she feels uncomfortable, she’ll thump ya herself. But you can’t touch.” Sukuna set his beer bottle down. “M’actually serious about this one.”

And Choso could see why - you were the first person that Sukuna had ever brought into the Itadori family home. You were smart. You were funny. You weren’t afraid to put the pink-haired man in his place. You were fucking gorgeous—

And…you were Sukuna’s girlfriend. Ten years older than Choso.

Which is why - no matter how badly you made his heart flutter - Choso had vowed to never, never so much as even think to act upon his feelings for you. 

He just had to grit his teeth and avoid prolonged conversation with you during every family function and gathering you attended with Sukuna- of which the man was making an appearance at every single one now. Almost as though to provoke him even more. 

And Choso was forced to make peace with the fact that he’d never make peace with his feelings.

That is…until the two of you broke up.

He’d heard news about it just a few weeks ago, actually- his father had said something about Sukuna being down in the dumps after you’d broken up with him. Something about not making enough time and drifting apart—Choso hadn’t heard the details, he’d been too overwhelmed with the guilty glee that’d shot through his body and made his heart pound. And then just tonight - oh, how he wished he could kiss whoever was looking down at him (but no, that was saved for you…) - Choso just-so-happened to run into you at the bar he was attending with his friends.

So of course he had to invite you over to their table.

Of course, he had to ignore your protests about being older than them all. None of that shit mattered. 

Of course, he had to sit right opposite you on the table and divulge his greatest secret - one he’d been keeping to himself for three years now.

You’re just opening your mouth to respond-

When Choso’s feeling a harsh smack! on his back and one of his friends crowing in his ear. “Atta boy! You never struck me as the type to like MILFs, man.”

“Technically I’m not a MILF yet.” You giggle, fixating your gaze upon him. He almost flinches. “But you’re right…I never thought you’d be the type to like older women. I’m ten years older than you, Choso, you know that right?”

Choso mumbles almost too quietly to hear. “Th-that doesn’t matter to me…”

“Yeah- and you’d probably like that ‘ma’am’ shit, eh?” His friend guffaws, making the now-bashful Choso - whatever courage he had liquified - duck his head. “Oh- sorry I didn’t mean—”

“No, no.” You dismiss the babbling college boy. “I’m not offended at all. In fact, you might be right.”

The table bursts into wolf whistles-

And it’s a blur until you’re ragging with the banter a little more - before discreetly excusing yourself to go to the bathroom. Choso’s staring up at you - totally not admiring your back like some pathetic lovesick fool - before catching your gaze and your pointed wink.

And then he’s scrambling right after you. As discreetly as a sledgehammer.

.

.

.

Nose buried into the crook of your neck. Mouth gaped wide open- letting out the sweetest crackling moans into your skin. 

Choso had you pushed against the bathroom stall - clean, don’t you worry - with his arms wrapped around your body n’ his cock shoved between your legs. Dragging in and out in a way that was so messy—he’s roverin’ around his globules of cum with that fat tip of his, and then reeling his hips rapidly backwards to spray it down your walls over and over.

He’d cum as soon as he’d put it inside.

And it wasn’t his fault.

Honest! 

“Oh- oh.” And now he was panting desperate breath after breath between thrusts—“I’m sorry…the condom broke, baby.” Choso’s lower lip cutely trembles as he speaks. “Can’t help it. And then your pussy’s just so warm and welcoming a-and…”

His breath hitches as he hits that one gluttonous spot that makes you clench.

“-and I just- can’t- when you’re squeezing me like that.”

Basically hypnotized, Choso’s slender fingers dip down between your legs. And so swiftly - that you’re almost surprised at his nimbleness - he pulls out of your wet hole n’ clasps his hand around his barely-wrapped length. The rubber condom had been too tight around him, and it’d shattered into a million pieces—Choso looks up at you through his doe-like lashes, and waits until you’re nodding.

That’s when he’s wringing off his broken condom and squeezing out whatever wetness it held. Pushing out the cum back onto your pussy. 

Making such a mess. 

Those pure-white droplets that end up splattered back down on your pussy- warm and utterly unwholesome. A sinful cover. He wasn’t leaving a single ounce wasted. “Sh-shit.” Choso’s mouth gapes wide open. “It’s all your fault…”

Just the cutest trickle of saliva makes its way down his lips - and you’re reaching upwards to wipe it away. “Awwww. Ever done it raw before, Cho?”

After a brief bout of hesitation, he shakes his head.

“I’ve never done it before.” He confesses. Your eyes widen, so he was a virgin…

“Then are you sure you can handle it, baby? No need to push yourself if-”

“No.” He gasps. Sharp. Shot-through. It leaves his lips before he even knows what’s happening- and then you’re clenching again in a way that makes his brows twist together, and his fingers dig into your waist. “No, no, no, no-” Eyes frenzied. “We don’t have to stop f’me, baby. We don’t even have to slow down—”

Cum-coated; his thickened cock gets sandwiched between your lips then jerked back and forth a few times. By now he was so wet with slick n’ sap that it was making him slip a few times before he’s actually managing to get it in again—and that, too, with your help. 

You reach down to help grip Choso’s raging-hot erection, and guide it inside your cunt: an action that leaves the other man blushing down to the roots of his hair. Even his tip throbs just a little harder—“Th-thank you, ma’am.”

Your brows raise in amusement- and it only hits him then. So he was into the ‘ma’am’ thing.

“I mean- baby.” He sounds so utterly ruined. “Thank you, baby. Promise I can handle it now, m’kay?”

And oh…you can’t deny that it was just so fun to tease him. “Hmmm…I dunno, Choso-”

Chocolate-brown bangs sticking to your skin, he’s lurching his face away to bore straight into your eyes. “I-is it because I’m younger?” He asks with a hint of desperation, and your lips part as your ex’s hot nephew keeps steamrolling away with his pussydrunken mouth. Poor, poor Choso. “Because I promise I can handle it. I can fuck you- ngh, the best. Promise m’gonna make you feel sooooo—”

Choso’s hips were hammerin’ away at a pace you’d never have suspected- and his hips end up crushed against yours. So close that the scruff of his happy trail scratches your clit raw.

“-g-good.” A single tear track runs down his face - you’re unsure whether he’s talking about you or himself.

“Easy there, tiger.” You’re pushing back on a stray lock of his hair- darker now with perspiration. The sweet gesture makes Choso huffs. 

It wasn’t doing him any favors, however, as that only made him look even cuter. You’re craning your neck and planting a chaste peck on his bubblegum-pink lips—only for Choso to take control of the kiss and softly bite down on your bottom lip. “Baby-” He rasps. And with just how sweet Choso had always been to you, you could’ve almost forgotten how strong he was- how easily he could bounce you down on his cock- how needy he was for you. Feral. Even though you had him wrapped ‘round your finger, he was jostling your pussy’s inside like craaaazy. “Don’t do that. Don’t baby me- I need to be taken- ngh, s-seriously by you, m’kay?”

“Oh…” You’re letting out a heated breath as his tip empties out at your cervix.

And to prolong that sensation; Choso claws his hand up and pushes on the lower part of your stomach. Right beneath where your cunt was expanding and contracting with his cock. “Feel how big I am?” He doesn’t stop putting pressure on that spot until you’re nodding - “How hard? How much I’m leaking?” Just on cue, a splatter! of precum leaks between your pussylips.

And with something like a broken whimper- Choso snakes his fingers down to push the leakage back up your channel. 

“O-oh—this pussy’s so fuckin’ wet. And I can handle it- I can handle it.” He utters more to himself. The more he’s speaking, the harder and longer he’s fucking you, the more ruined he sounds. “M’not as innocent as you think, baby.”

“Oh? Do tell.” You smile.

Such a gorgeous, gorgeous smile that he almost hesitates wiping away with a roll of his thumb - stimulating the nerves of your clit. But it makes you break out into the prettiest lewd expression that leaves him rutting his hips even harder, “Do you have any idea how fuh-fucking long I’ve waited for this? How badly I’ve wanted to- ngh, stuff my cock and fuck you like an animal?” As he trails off, he feels his stinging tip start to twitch even more wildly. Dangerously. “Fuck—”

“H-how long?” You’re asking with a smug smirk.

Choso’s blinking a few times just to let the question register- and finally muttering. “Even when you were dating- him. Ever since I first saw you…” And then he rubs his thumb at an even more steadied pace, matching it to the pushes of his spearing cock. “You were wearing that red dress of yours- hah, and I could see the strap of your pretty pink bra peaking out…the one with the bows on-”

That makes you gasp.

Which Choso takes advantage of to plaster his lips against yours n’ suckle on your tongue. 

“And then-” Barely managing out through kisses- through stabs of his length- through the pleasure. “And then you called me ‘baby’ as you were getting ready to leave, and I- ngh, knew you were teasing me for being younger—fuck, I h-had to run to the bathroom just to jerk off.”

Rovering his mushroomy trip straight into your nerve-ended g-spot; you’re arching into his chest as you feel Choso lose his grip on his sanity.

Already having been so loose.

He’s babbling as he cums long and hard, and oh-so-deeeeeply into your cunt. Mouth ajar. Body collapsing against yours - caging you even further against the bathroom wall. “Baby- fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-”

“Shit, so much…” Just feeling the ribbons upon ribbons of creamy-white sap he was emptying out. Hot. hypnotizing. Every stroke managed to hit your best spots, and every push meant your pussy was getting overloaded with his cum. The inches of his shaft were curved just perfectly enough that he’s managing to slip aside your walls and use his tip to circle and circle those webs of cum at the very base of your pussy. All over. 

Soon enough, you’re feeling a layer of it make its way down your inner-thighs—and Choso still didn’t seem like he was going to stop anytime soon. You moan, “H-how can you cum this much- mmpf.”

He captures your lips in another sloppy kiss. “Must be the stamina of a younger guy.”

“Choso you’re pussydrunk.” You’ve never heard him sound so drawling and dreamy.

“Hmmmm…” He’s nuzzling the crook of your neck, leaving bite marks that will be entirely too difficult to explain when you’re going back outside. “Did you cum? Promise I can- ngh, make you cum, too…” Grazing your skin with his lips.

“Prove it, then.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - 6…9?

“It’s a fuckin’ pandemic, isn’t it?”

You’re looking at your boyfriend over the rim of your book, “Excuse me?”

Sukuna was seated on the armchair in the corner of your bedroom; just having finished a video call with his brother and his nephew. The bright chatter (at least from their end) had died down some minutes ago, and they’d bid your boyfriend goodnight—which was rather the same routine for these biweekly calls. Despite how much the two of you visited, Itadori Yuji always found it too hilarious to put strange filters on his grumpy uncle.

Except, tonight…Sukuna had sat in the armchair for a few minutes longer.

Usually; he would join you in bed.

Usually; he would grumble - though with a fond smile on his face - about whatever Yuji had been chattering about before. 

He was practically an honorary father to the boy, and it always made you smile to see. 

Usually; he wouldn’t look up at you as expressionless as if he’d seen a ghost- as if his soul had wafted away. And ask you about some…pandemic? Did Yuji put something in his head again?

At the confused expression on your face, Sukuna was heaving out a sigh—pushing up those glasses that were totally, most definitely not glasses and merely a tool he uses to…see…better up his handsome nosebridge. Sukuna was in his late thirties, and silver was beginning to tinge the edges of his pink hair, climbing up his temples. His crows’ feet creased as he frowned at you, “The…67 thing. It’s a pandemic.”

“67 thing?” You gape, your book plopping down on the bed. 

“You heard me.” He scoffs. “I’ve been thinking it’s mass hysteria- every brat at his kindergarten keeps repeating it. But there seems to be no pattern or cohesion. I thought it was just those damn kindergarteners, but the other day I even caught Jin saying it-”

“S-six…seven…thing.” You’re repeating - for no reason other than to confirm to yourself that what you’re hearing was real.

Sukuna straightens in his chair, “See? Now it’s got you—”

“Kuna, like the meme?” You’re shaking your head, “The one from the song? Oh my god, it’s not mass hysteria-”

He crinkles his nose. “The hell is a…meme?”

“You don’t know what a—” How has he been Yuji - of all people’s - uncle but still had no idea? You continue, “It’s basically an Internet inside joke- it’s been over for a while now but the kids are still obsessed with it.” Finally gripping your book once more, you level him a look. “You didn’t seriously think it was mass hysteria, did you, Kuna?”

Sukuna crosses his bulky arms and looks away. “Tch—”

And when he catches you giggling, he barks-

“What?!”

“Oh- nothing.” And from the smile upon your lips - Sukuna knew that whatever was coming out of your mouth next wasn’t about to be anything sincere. 

Which is why he’s raising himself off the sofa and climbing up the foot of your bed.

You continue, “It’s just you’re getting old, Kuna.”

Joking; nothing ever riled Ryomen Sukuna up more than teasing him for not understanding some new slang or lyric. 

And with how much he riled you up sometimes—you had to get back at him somehow, alright?

Soon enough, he’s pinning you down to the bed - with his toned pelvis pressing down on your waist, and his arms creeping upwards to keep your wrists pushed against the mattress. “Say that shit again. I dare you.”

You’re leaning up as though to kiss him. “Old man.”

.

.

.

Sukuna’s tongue was zig-zagging wiiiiildly between your legs- striking the soft circle of your entrance and then swervin’ as deeply inside as it could go. Deeper. Deeper.

No matter how fervently his mouth was glued to your pussy. 

No matter how ravenously.

His hips rut off the bed with every single lick—and that fat, throbbing tip of his kept shovelling n’ shovelling at a synchronized pace with his tongue. 

He had you twisted in sixty-nine with your pussy latched onto his lips. 

Sukuna’s own cock squeezing out heavy volumes of his salty precum near your lips, then promptly pushin’ them inside with his thrusts- Sukuna was so loooong and rock-hard that he was managing to swab across every spot and directly target the back of your throat. Playing with that dangly in the back.

You’re moaning as he squeezes two ringed-decorated fingers into your tight cunt. And he grins as he feels the vibrations—“Ah ah- s’rude to talk with your mouth full.” 

Just then, Sukuna’s planting a smack! on your pussy that makes you pull off of his shaft with a loud pop! “H-hey…”

“What?” He trundles. Reaching his hips up and guiding his needy tip back into your mouth, “Speak.”

All because he knew that you’d attempt to nonetheless- and it would end up with the most lewd noises being muffled into this cock. It would end up with his eyes scrunching shut, his head throwing backwards at the shocks of pleasure. “Th-thought I told you to speak? Hah- not babble. Cock got your tongue or something?”

And…it would end up with you being all huffy n’ puffy. “That’s not even f-fair…”

“Heh- fair?” From where he’d been nipping at your clit, Sukuna pulls off - just to confirm he wasn’t hearing things. He wasn’t. And though you couldn’t see his expression from this angle, you could practically hear the amusement in his tone. “What happened to me being old, huh? You surely don’t need me to go easy on you.”

“I d-didn’t say that…” You’re stubbornly answering him - though the constant drives of his fingers were driving you absolutely mad. Sure. 

“Good.” And then you’re feeling two more consecutive smack-smacks! atop your bloated folds. “Because, babydoll…m’barely even started.”

In no time, Sukuna has you manhandled so that your stomach’s against the soft bed. Your back’s against his thoroughly toned front - so incredibly strong; he was bulky—with a layer of thickness to him that made your skin tingle with want - and his erect cock placed between your legs. He takes a few moments to wetten your core up- because no matter how many times you’ve taken him, you think you’ll never get used to Sukuna’s sheer size.

And before long you’re clawing onto the headboard for dear life—as he damn-near molds your tender cunt to his size. Startin’ at the tip-top of his bloated shaft, and then bouncing you down- down- down so many inches greedily. 

Utterly greedily. 

“Oh- oh, fuuuuuck.” Hands shooting forwards to grab onto more of the mahogany frame.

But Sukuna stops you right then n’ there by wrapping his right arm around your neck; like a wreath, your pants are immediately cut off. And his muscles bulge as they tighten—the defined ridges of his biceps pushing against your throat - it’s sensual enough to make your mouth water…“And where’d you think you’re going, huh?”

“Nowher- mmpf.” Cut off immediately by the tightening of his muscled restraint. 

“Lying’s not a good look, brat.” Then his second set of fingers snakes down to spank! your stuffed pussy- right atop your bloated folds. The shockwaves that run up your spine are enough to make you buck and whine—and enough to make him drag you back into him. Again and again. “Wasn’t stuffing this mouth earlier ‘nough to teach you a little lesson?”

So stubborn. “Not at all-”

He’s spitting straight between your lips.

And when Sukuna’s fucking you; it’s with harsh, pointed jabs - scouring deeeeep into the bottom of your pussy and leaving the mark of his cockhead. That rounded bruise you feel throb-throb-throbbin’ away every time he repeats the action—he fucks you like he hates you.

And he’s only growing faster, harder by the second.

Only tightening his headlock and wrenching your body back into his. Again and again.

Over and over.

Until the globes of your ass were stinging with impact, and you’ve memorized the pattern of his happy trail. It’s practically a part of you. 

Sukuna’s rugged cock knew aaaaall the right spots. Making your pupils roll around in the whites of your eyes, and leaving you wondering just how he had this much stamina still…“Awww, c’mon now.” His low voice trundles in your ears. “Get your act together, girl. You don’t wanna be this cockdrunk for someone so old, huh?”

“I-I—”

“What was it you called me?” He growls, sharp canines nipping at the shells of your ears. “Huh? What was it you called me? See, this fossil ‘ere has some trouble…remembering-”

Every syllable of his was punctured by a thorough glide across the velvety channel of your pussy- “Ummm, then in that case, I didn’t say anything?” You try your luck.

“Nice try.” Sukuna grins. “But m’not that geriatric yet.”

Another spank. “Please-”

“What did you call me?”

“I-I just meant-”

And another. “What did you call me?”

“An…old man.” You feel embarrassed just letting the words slip between your lips.

You didn’t think he could get even rougher with his movements - his shaft was throbbing, and his pelvis was smack-smack-smacking into you. So hard that you’re propelled forwards by the sheer force; and Sukuna roughly lurches you back with his headlock. “I might be an old man- cheh. I might not know all these…damn Internet memes- but I do know how to fuck this pussy right.” To prove his point, he scours in-between your pussylips to squeeze your pretty clit. “Look at her- she’s in love with me.”

“O-oh—” Eyes fluttering shut. 

“I know how to make her cry with pleasure. I know how to make her- mmmngh, squeeze like she doesn’t want me leavin’…heh.” He continues muttering into your ear as his hips grow more fervent. “I know how to make her feel so good—”

Your teeth grit. “Shit.” And you recognize the twisting sensation at the pit of your stomach. “K-Kuna, I’m gonna cum-”

“And even better.” He chuckles. Gnawing at the top of your ear shell, before moving down to bite the tender crook of your neck - like a wolf catching his prey. “I might not know those fuckin’- memes like the youngsters do. But I do know how to make this pussy- cum.”

“S-sooo close—don’t stop.” You’re bouncing n’ bouncing back into his pistoning hips. 

Feeling the pleasure well up. Feeling your head start to spin a little as you near your high- 

You’re crashing past your tipping point. And Sukuna gives you one, two, three good strokes to fuck you through the bursts of white-hot pleasure running through your veins - before he’s suddenly setting you free of his headlock and letting you drop straight into the plush pillows. 

Reeling his damn cock out.

You don’t know what’s louder: your disappointed groan or his rough cackle.

“What? Wanted this old man to be nice in bed or something?” As soon as you’re looking over your shoulder, you’re met with Sukuna’s priggish grin—his sharp canines peaking out at the edges of his lower lip. 

Grumpily, you nod. “Yes? What- can’t last or—oh.”

Another smack. “That’s not gonna work on me again- sorry, babydoll.” And before you know it, you’re being flipped right over - getting your legs thrown over his shoulders and pushed into the meanest mating press you’ve ever experienced. “Because m’not letting my bratty girl properly cum until I’ve had a good few rounds to blow off some steam. And m’sure you can keep up- heh, if not…”

“And um- how many rounds might that be exactly?”

Sukuna smirks. “67.”

“I hate you.”

♡ INO TAKUMA - “M-mommy!”

AITA for seducing the HOT rich MILF (40’sF) that I (23M) pool-clean for while her ex-husband and kids were away?! In my defense, she’s reeeeeally hot.

You freeze.

Ino freezes.

The world itself seems to freeze; all except for the ruby-red tip of Ino Takuma’s cock. Shoved deeeep inside your cunt - deep enough to leave a permanent bruise there - and throbbing away wildly—he’s cumming with that particular title escaping his lips. 

And then his lower lip wobbles once- twice- before he ducks down and attempts to hide his face in his arms. 

“Hey hey-” Swiftly, you reach down to push his hands away - you’d be disappointed not to see his pretty expressions as you fucked him even further. All pouty lips and doe-like eyes—Ino Takuma was so pretty, and perhaps that’s what drew you to the younger pool cleaner in the first place. “What’s the matter, Taku?”

“I-I didn’t mean to call you that- honest!” He stammers out.

To which you’re cocking your head with a sly smile- time to try something. “Call me what, Taku?”

“Y’know what it is…” Ino grumbles, huffing. And when you simply continue to stare at him in slight confusion, he’s rockin’ up into your wet cunt as he speaks- “The way I c-called you—mommy- oh.” Just as you’d predicted, his velvety length jolts at the mere utterance of that title. Excitedly spurting out a few creamy-white wads of cum that glue to your cervix.

So messy. He was so fucking messy.

How ironic, considering that his entire job was to clean your pool.

You’d been introduced to Ino through one of your friends - those networks of older rich women with far too much time and money on their hands. Juggling kids and businesses. And you’d just been complaining to them over a gold-flaked brunch that your last pool cleaner had moved towns, and with your kids now entering middle school, the pool was left without use and starting to gather leaves. 

That’s when they’d shared Ino’s number with you—a reliable pool cleaner. Just graduated college, and so easy on the eyes if they did say so themselves…

You’d huffed that you’d tell their husbands- meanwhile you on the other hand had just recently gotten divorced. One too many nights of your husband coming home with a cloud of mysterious perfume around him, or a lipstick stain on his collar - at least you’d gotten a good chunk of everything in the divorce!

But that was all in the past- maybe love just wasn’t for you.

You had your kids. You had your gorgeous hillside mansion. You had your hobbies and friends- men just weren’t…for…

Fuck, that’s when he’d showed up at your door. 

Bright and early. Beaming with all his gorgeous pearly whites; the sweetest smile on such a killer body. Ino showed up in nothing but an unbuttoned flowery shirt and swim trunks—their lightning-yellow color perfectly complemented his slightly-tanned skin and messy brown hair. Slightly tawny from the Sun.

“Er, I hope you don’t mind.” Ino had said, a sheepish smile on his face. “I thought I’d get changed for the job before I got here.”

Mind? Mind?!

In simply what world would you mind—it took every speck of reason and rationality in you to dart your eyes away from the plane of his chest, his washboard abs. Sultry shoulders. Slender waist. There was a scattered happy trail that ran between his six-pack and- beneath his swimming trunks. 

Fuck. 

Instead, you focused on the tight necklace of shells around Ino’s throat. “C-come in.”

On the first day, you stayed inside - only peeking out occasionally from your bedroom window - as Ino cleaned your pool. You tipped him heavily.

On the second day, he’d told you that it was completely okay with him even if you used the pool whilst he was cleaning—and you took that as your sign. You donned a bikini you hadn’t gotten the chance to use in years, and sprawled yourself out on the nearest sun bed - making occasional conversation with him almost as an excuse to ogle him.

And if you weren’t mistaken, you’d say that he ogled you too. 

But you really did discover that Ino was a sweetheart- and made you giggle like a schoolgirl, too. How embarrassing you felt admitting this!

And a part of you was almost relieved when your kids arrived home from school - escorted by their driver - so you could resume your mundane lavishness. But a bigger part of you was already yearning for when you’d see him again…

And so continued the third day.

And the fourth day.

And so on to the fifth and the sixth.

Before you knew it, Ino had been employed as your pool-cleaner for at least a month—and he’d quickly grown to become someone you and your kids were quite fond of. Even your driver had caught on, and shot you a knowing smile every time you asked him to escort Ino back to his downtown apartment. Perhaps feeling jealous of such an occurrence, your ex-husband had showed up with tickets to an amusement park - already having planned a day trip for your kids.

They’d, of course, begged to go. And so you’d agreed.

Leaving nobody inside this vast mansion: but you, Ino, and the growing tension between you two. 

The only thing was, right before he left, your ex-husband had the audacity to stop Ino and snipe at him. Low and threatening. “Touch her and I’ll make you very, very sorry.”

So, of course you’d fucked Ino as soon as they were out of the house. 

Squeezing your robe-covered thighs ‘round his waist—just so perfectly curved to meet your embrace. “W-we really shouldn’t be…I mean- I’m old enough to be your-”

“Works just fine for me, pretty.” He’d cut you off. Pulling on the gauzy material of your robe to let your tits spill out- fuck, he was in heaven.

Enough so that it’d taken just putting it in for Ino to cover your luscious inside in his sap. To watch the satiny liquid seep between your pussylips and leave his pelvis gleaming with a sheen. To wrench out the most pathetic calls of your name—and one particular title that made him want to get swallowed up by the Earth.

Again and again.

Ino’s cock was longer than you’d expected - and all this time, you’d been wondering where the hell he’d been hiding all that in his swimming trunks. Just reaching over six pretty inches. Just smooooth and leaned ever-so-slightly towards the left. It’s making his bulbous tip drag across every sweet spot inside you, and your thighs quiver as you take him.

Every single inch. You’re arching your back and mustering up your strength to grind your hips forwards and back, forwards and back.

Milking him—

“C’mon, baby.” You’re cooing down at the handsome man. He blinks his teary eyes open- and you just can’t help but lean down n’ kiss them away from his cheeks. “Call me ‘mommy’ again?”

“C-can’t…” Ino blushes down to the roots of his chocolate-brown hair. “It’s embarrassing-”

“But it gets me so wet, Taku.” You pout—and his eyes widen at your admission. You watch as his pupils shift down- as if making sure. “Pleeeeeeeease? Just once?”

And in response, you smush your thighs harder around him. You’re sure you leave red, red welts on his skin - but that wasn’t registering in his mind right now. Nothing was. Nothing but the smooch of your soft velvety insides embracing his cock, and the sensation of cum sploshin’ around inside you. “Fine…but only because I wanna impress you…” His breath hitches. “-mommy.”

You shiver. “Oh, I liked that—”

And he does, too, because your cunt’s just suctioning on his length as if you were trying to take his soul. His fucking soul. 

The thing is- Ino would have gladly given it to you at this moment.

“It feels good- it f-feels s-sooooo good.” Tears begin to crinkle at the corners of his eyes, and Ino’s fingers dig into the sides of your hips as he bucks upwards. “Fuck, it should be illegal for it to feel this good- mommy.” And he can’t fucking help it—it echoes before he can stop himself. 

“Taku, I think you like saying that more than me.” With a soft chuckle, your dominant hand ends up wrapped around his throat. “C’mon now- a little faster for mommy.”

“Sh-shut—ngh.” No matter how hard he attempts to regain control- it doesn’t work. He pushes upwards into your soft, syrupy cervix as though marking it.

After a few desperate thrusts, he asks you- “Is this okay?”

“Hmmmm…” You pretend to think - and the ruined expression on his face is oh-so-completely worth it. “How about a biiiiit faster?”

His jaw drops- but he doesn’t complain. He’s grabbing onto either side of your thighs now, and plunging straight into your deepest depths—multiple thwacks! every second, it feels like. “H-how about-”

“Just a little faster.”

Doubting himself. “Is that even possible-”

“But you’d do it for- heh, me won’t you? You’d do it to make me feel good?”

Nodding and nodding. “Yes, mommy. A-anything for you mommy—” Broken moans and pleas cycle at the back of Ino’s throat, and he’s planted his feet flat on the mattress to push himself up ravenously. “M’just here for you to use me.”

Your eyes widen - your smile grows.

“Just use me-” He gasps, face reddening as he follows your instructions. “Fucking use me like a toy. Use me- fuh-fuuuck—”

“A liiiiiittle bit—” Your head tips backwards as he’s entering the perfect pace - rapid enough to leave your thoughts stupidly muddled, but still steady enough that you’re feeling every single ridge, vein, and curve. Giving your walls such a good massage—“Th-that’s perfect, Taku.” You squeeze his pretty neck tighter, and you’re hearing him let out a little hiccup of a sob. “Mommy’s so proud of you.”

Oh, and you thought that he was ruined enough already?

You thought that he was reaching his limits?

Because after that particular sentence - oh, you’re evil for that - Ino digs his digits into the flesh of your thighs and rams deep into your womb. His pistoning cock resting there for a brief few split-seconds as he sputters—“L-let me make you a mommy all over again.”

Your breath catches. “Do you even know what you’re asking for, Taku-”

“Fucking yes.” His glazed tip twitches dangerously in a way that told you he was oh-so-close to cumming again. Again.  “Yes, please- fuuuuck, let me get you pregnant. Let me make you a mommy for the third time. I-I promise I’ll be the best- ngh, dad and nothing like that asshole. I’ll take care of you and cherish you and-”

You kiss him to shut him up.

“But of course, baby.” You hum. “But you have to be quick before my ex-husband finds out.”

He’s never cum harder in his life. 

Verdict: NTA (drop the fucking tutorial, OP).

♡ GOJO SATORU - Sugar, sugar…

Gojo Satoru wasn’t technically a DILF - but he was a sugar daddy.

And they called you a gold digger.

Gojo called you business-savvy.

It was a rather unique situation: the relationship between the two of you had started out as a regular sugar daddy-sugar baby relation. You met Gojo Satoru at some stuffy ol’ business function when you were the arm candy of some other businessman—one who’d been ignoring you in favor of one of his business associates the entire night, of course.

Whatever.

You’d gotten used to this routine by now - and so you’d drifted by the grazing table with microscopic clean cuts and cheeses you couldn’t even pronounce. 

And that was exactly how your knight-in-shining-suit had sidled up next to you.

With two champagne glasses in-hand and a flirtatious smile upon his face, he handed you one of the drinks. Then you gestured at the businessmen you’d arrived with- and Gojo had the audacity to roll his eyes and pretend to retch. That was when you knew you’d get along.

Tall. Toned. With twinkling blue eyes—and just the slightest bit of silver creeping into his already-white hair. Gojo Satoru was as handsome as he was rich—and considering that both aspects occupied a fair share of the conversations tonight, you were rather flattered to be in his presence. Though the CEO of Gojo Corporations didn’t waste time: “Y’know, if I was lucky enough to arrive with an angel- I’d never leave her sight. Why waste time with some geezers over such a gorgeous gal?”

You smiled.

And you left that night with Gojo instead.

From the boxes of jewelries and flights around the world - to the tabloids and online speculation that couldn’t get enough of you. 

CEO of Gojo Corporations finally finds love?!

Gold digger or gold-hearted: All we know about Gojo Satoru’s girlfriend!

Is it sugar baby season? The newest IT Girl’s best red-carpet looks so far—

But of course, there was always some truth to those headlines. Perhaps. 

You were Gojo Satoru’s sugar baby. You were in a transactional relationship- though he never laid a hand on you. Not unless you initiated it.

So…what was it really?

You got your answer a few months into this limbo of lust—the two of you finally started dating. 

And to be quite honest; it wasn’t that big of a change at first. The two of you went out for romantic dinners either way. The two of you dodged paparazzi and rumors every step. The two of you bantered and teased as much as you did anyways- the only change would be that Gojo Satoru finally let loose when he fucked you.

Though, at times, he still did like to let his sugar daddy side peek through…

“A-awwww- just look at you.” Gojo’s hands were rubbin’ furiously down his length - from those curls of white cozily decorating his base, up to that poor, pretty tip that just wouldn’t stop cumming. Up and down. Up and down. 

Salty-sweet heaps of cum were pouring out of his cockhead and splashing down your front- your stomach, your inner thighs, your cunt. He watches as it creates a little waterfall effect—and Gojo reaches down to pat your stuffed pussy with his long fingers. “No matter what pretty trinkets n’ expensive lingerie you wear- you always look the prettiest covered in my cum, sweetheart.”

“S-Satoru—” You’re squirming underneath him. Hands clasping the silken sheets.

Your fingers were decked-out in diamond rings. Your lacy lingerie was tugged n’ pulled aside for access. 

Around you were bracelets upon necklaces upon every piece of jewelry that your heart could desire - Gojo had taken it upon himself to empty out Tokyo’s luxury stores earlier. All for you, of course.

All to drown you in—whilst he attempted to do the same with his fucking cum-

“I fuckin’ loooooove it when it covers you like this.” He hisses- nose scrunches in a feral way as he glides his fingers across those splatters. Those smears. That ruinous mess. His favorite was to see you like this: pull out game, who? You often scoffed whenever Gojo claimed that his was unmatched. “Love the way it looks like your pretty pussy can’t keep it in-” Just another light tap on your cunt. “Love the way it looks so pretty on your skin like this—mmm, you’ve got me obsessed, girl.”

Your thighs were shaky- but not shaky enough to stop you from attempting to pull him even closer. They’re wrapping around his waist, and careening him close ‘nough to kiss your puffy pussylips with his throbbing tip. His length doesn’t stop sensitively twitching for a single second—“O-oh…greedy for more, my girl?” 

“More.” Just barely managing to wrangle out. “W-want some more—”

“Fuuuuck.” He whispers underneath his breath - something so ragged in his tone. That blushin’ tip of his was twitching in excitement already, and Gojo probably doesn’t even realize before he’s slotted his still-erect length between your legs and his rockin’ away at a slow pace. “You seriously want more?”

Your eyes squeeze shut at the sensation of him intruding your hole- seemingly only growing bigger every time he feels you clenchin’ around nothing. So needy. 

“Yes-” You’re nodding furiously. Perhaps had this been any other time, then you’d have been almost embarrassed at your unabashed eagerness. “B-but this time, I want it inside, Toru.”

“Inside?” Gojo’s pale brows fly to his hairline. “But you’re already stuffed so full, my sweetheart.”

And then he’s smearing his fingertips between your bloated folds- teasin’ them apart and taking a good look at your entrance. He can’t help himself - he’s spitting straight into that puckered hole—and watching at the glossy wad slips down your crevice and only adds to the mess he’s made previously. You’re shivering as he runs his nimble digits up n’ down your slit and presses on your clit.

“Yes, but—” You keen, arching into his firm core. “But you never really came inside, Toru.”

“Oh…” Those glossed lips of his part.

And you’re taking the opportunity to throw your arms weakly around him- “And I want it inside this time.” Though Gojo loved teasing you with his creamy-white sap—making you beg for it at times, he’s never properly cum inside.

He always thought it’d be too soon: you were younger, after all. And a pregnancy at this point might derail your plans-

“But I want it.” Had he been babbling this entire time? The sheer determination in your eyes sends a jolt of dark-black need through him - far more primal than he ever thought possible. Far more. Gojo’s blue peripherals glaze over as he clasps his cock even tighter, as though afraid he’s so hard now that it’d fucking fall off.

“Shouldn’t fall off now.” He whispers breathily.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Gojo quickly amends. Before he uses the pointed tip of his shaft to web up those dollops of cum he’d spurted ‘round your thighs and folds—it creates a gloss of white that he thinks would suit the insides of your pussy so well (did he mention that he was the one to pick out your lingerie colors?) ‘Round and ‘round.

It devises the most sinful sounds between your legs. And your breath catches in your throat: “A-are you gonna cum inside or not, Toru? Hurry-”

“So impatient.” He’s tutting. Voice low and husky. “I hope you know that if I fuck my cum inside—then m’gonna fuck you pregnant, sweetheart.”

Goosebumps scatter across your skin.

But Gojo doesn’t let you squirm, he doesn’t let you move about restlessly- he’s pinning you down with his hips and rumbling lowly in your ear. “M’gonna make sure it takes.” A rough sliiiiiide of his length sandwiched between your cushy pussylips - drooling for him by now. “M’gonna stuff you so full that you won’t even be able to walk—” Another rough slide. A thrust. “M’gonna give you the most precious gift of all - in my eyes.”

“P-please—!”

As you’re letting your head tip backwards, Gojo reaches his hand up to and clasps your gorgeous, gorgeous face. Smushing your cheeks together in a way that was so pathetic - “Are you okay with that, pretty baby?”

You’ve never heard him sound so serious.

And you’ve never yowled an affirmation faster in your entire life—

In the next few seconds, Gojo’s stuffed rawly all the way to the hilt and is messin’ up your insides with determined strokes. Once. Twice. Thrice- he punctures through your clingy walls and hits all the best spots - memorizing your g-spot and running his flared tip along it. 

And honestly, it doesn’t take much - the two of you were already so overstimulated already - before you’re feeling the wave of euphoria start to build up in your stomach already. Almost as lewd of a sensation as the clear twitchin’ mess that Gojo and his length had turned into—babbling, gasping, sobbing as he runs his fat cock raw on your velvety walls. Fucking raw.

You were going to make him an actual DILF.

“Y-you’re gonna get it now…” It’s the last thing he’s getting out before a flood of white sap enters your tight cunt. Getting absolutely drenched from the inside. “When have I ever forgone you of a gift, my girl?”

“Never—” You’re keening out. Rushes of pleasure start up between your legs- before crackling through your veins and ultimately ending up at your brain.

Hazy and startling at the feeling of him fucking you through both your highs. Thrust after thrust. Gush after gush of both pleasure n’ his milky-white cum. 

Underneath the overwhelming sensation of your orgasm; you can feel his spurts of cum start to trickle between your legs. It was just as warm as your skin was getting, and creating a little puddle beneath you that Gojo takes one looks at and gasps- 

“Now now, are you wasting your gift, sweetheart—?” He cocks his head, genuinely ruined. 

“N-no?”

“Or do I just have to- heh, regift it to you again?”

“Shut up.”

♡ HIGURUMA HIROMI - Ms. Babysitter.

“We have to be quiet, angel- fuck. Fuck.” Higuruma’s voice sounded ragged—

Ruined. Nothing but carnal desire creeping up into the edges of his tone; giving you a jolt, considering that you’ve known the older man to be nothing but utterly calm and collected.

He was one of the best parents that you babysat for. 

One of your college friends had recommended you for the job - the hot lawyer in your neighborhood needed someone to look after his young daughter whilst he worked long nights? You were agreeing before you’d even heard the hours, you can’t deny—and despite how hasty of a decision it had been, you thoroughly enjoyed working under Higuruma Hiromi.

And being under Higuruma Hiromi…though that didn’t come until a few weeks after you’d been employed. 

The first night, you’d barely seen him. Dark hair. Dark circles.

The main thing you remember was that he looked exhausted—and some strange part of you was actually enticed by the hard-working man. Especially when he was such a gentleman…

Fuck, that suit fit him so well.

He addressed you oh-so-respectfully; unlike some parents who were tempted to treat you like a live-in server. Hands behind his back. Jet-black eyes to himself as he gave you a two-minute tour around the house- you’d been thoroughly enjoying yourself admiring his broad shoulders in that suit, when a sudden call from the office meant your tour had to be paused. 

Higuruma had pinched the bridge of his nose with a groan. He’d sighed.

And he was out that door before you could even confirm bedtime- which hadn’t been too much of a problem, to be honest. His daughter was extremely well-behaved and didn’t hesitate to let you know. 

She also didn’t hesitate to let you know that her dad was very, very single.

You let her stay up just a liiittle past her bedtime. 

And then the second night, he’d apologized for his hastiness - telling you that a recent case had them fighting to prepare before the court deadline, and there’d just been so many fucking tax audits to go through.

You nodded like you understood. But what really intrigued you was when he’d told you that his daughter had just loved having you over. Though a part of you was simply satisfied that you did your job well (buttered popcorn and K-pop Demon Hunters wins again!), you can’t deny that it made your heart…flutter hearing it from the older man like this. 

It made you realize that you had a little crush.

So of course, you made him a regular.

And the pay was so good that you were able to weed out your other clients to focus predominantly on Higuruma and his bizarre babysitting schedule (some nights he worked until 3AM…)—you guessed the overtime was paying off. 

Though your interactions were limited mostly to the brief conversations before and after- though you never did cross your boundaries. That all came to a head when one night - about a month or two into your babysitting gig - Higuruma suddenly perked up after a late night at the office. It was 3:31AM when he quietly let himself inside the house, sighing as he finally tugged off his tie.

It was 3:32AM by the time you got up off the couch and offered him some cookies you’d made with his daughter in the morning.

3:40AM when he suddenly remembered- and suggested resuming that house tour you didn’t get to finish. And though you’d been a bit hesitant—for nothing other than the fact that you might wake his sleeping daughter up, he promised that the two of you would be quiet.

Then, finally, 3:47AM when he was telling you to be quiet in bed-

“Wouldn’t wanna wake her up, hm?” The prominent outline of his nose runs down the side of your throat - and it makes you shiver. Fuck, you always have thought that that was one of the most handsome parts of him. 

A soft moan strangles in your throat as he slots his thickened tip between your folds—feeling it like this, your mind’s reeling with the question of how the fuck he’s going to fit like this.

Higuruma always did strike you as the type of man to be big; but this was enough to make your mouth water and your eyes damn-near bulge out of your skull. From here, you were feeling at least seven or eight inches of his erection, furiously hot, wrapped in throbbing red veins and having the most luscious precum dripping out from top. He seemed hard enough to fucking ruin you - just how you wanted it. 

And as if reading your mind, Higuruma runs his slippery wet tip down your pussylips, and trundles in his low tone. “Are you sure you want to do it? We don’t have to rush into anything if you don’t want-”

“I do.” Cutting him off mid-sentence.

Although by the way that Higuruma’s stern lips were quirking up ever-so-slightly—you’re taking it to mean that he didn’t exactly mind. He keeps one hand underneath your ass, so that you can be pushed up into his roverin’ hips, and his other one caresses your cheek softly. “Hm, is that so…? Then I guess what I meant to say is…can you take every single inch, sugar?”

You gulp. Your eyes dart down nervously to his twitchin’, throbbing length. “Yes.”

And you’ve never been more sure of anything.

Higuruma merely horses out - “Then buckle up, angel.”

Before you know it, his round, ruddied tip is probin’ inside. Sifting your gluey walls from side-to-side before spreading you up so maddeningly open.

He spots your sweet areas with a few dollops of pre- as soon as Higuruma found himself inside you, he was fighting back whimpers of pleasure. The older man’s achin’ cock doing all the talking for him as he shovels his way in—

“Sh-shit.” Your eyes sprint to the back of your head as you take him. “Shit, you’re so big-”

The way you’re moving your hips around as though confused whether to buck right down or make him ease up- it’s just so cute. And he plants a reassuring hand on the side of your waist, “Easy now.” Higuruma hushes out, “Eeeeeeasy, angel. You can take it for me.”

“Right there—” You keen out as his flared tip rubs along your g-spot.

And although he knows what you meant, that doesn’t stop Higuruma from throwing you a ravishing smirk. Letting his second hand run down your core- “No, sugar. Right here.” He pushes down right where he knew your womb would be - that soft pressure making your walls clench around him wildly, until you could feel every throb of his engorged tip even in your brain. “And you’re gonna take it f’me, right?” 

Jostling you hard with every thrust—so that you’re nodding away. Almost pathetically. 

“Mhm…exactly what I thought.” He coos - so lovingly thrusting away between your quiverin’ legs. Higuruma’s skin slap-slap-slaps against yours at a steady pace, “Just a few more inches now—keep quiet, please.”

“I’m t-trying.” Gnawing down on your lower lip. “How many more?”

“Ah, just one inch…two…” And after a prolonged thrust- so deep that you swear you’re feeling it in your throat, Higuruma cracks a grin. “Maybe more.”

Five more?

Five more?

And you were already on the verge of being fucked absolutely stupid? You’re letting a groan escape you—lewd and louder than you intended- and before the realization hits you, Higuruma himself swiftly reaches over to where his work tie had been dangling off the side of the bed. Bunching it up, shoving it between those pretty lips - he couldn’t have anyone waking up now, could he?

And that’s exactly what he’s telling you: “C’mon, angel…” Shoves getting deeper and longer. Rougher- as he rams his thickened inches past where you don’t think anyone’s ever gone before. And throughout it all, the older man was so steady with you—“C’mon- c’mon. You can do this—fuuuuuck, you can do this. This pussy’s gonna take all of me, right?”

Nodding and nodding.

“Yeah? Because you’re my goooood girl, right? Taking me so well.” He continues rasping - tone pitching higher and higher as he goes on. “My good- fucking- girl—”

“O-oh, fuck, fuck, fuck-”

“You’re my goooooood fucking girl, huh?” The stubs of his five o’ clock shadow rub up against your skin. The deeper he thrusts, the hotter his body seems to become on top of yours. More and more. “Can you count how many inches m’putting in you?”

Tears flow down your eyes, “Y-yes- mmpf.” Somehow managing past the tie. “Ah- four? Five. Six.”

Higuruma’s eyes widen.

“Seven—” Your voice seems like it’s on the verge of cracking. “Eight.”

It’s just too adorable how you’re sweetly attempting to respond to him even with the gag in. And Higuruma can’t help himself as he leans in and kisses you through the tie.

It’s hot and it’s messy.

And it ends up with him smiling against your stuffed lips, “Finally bottomed-out.”

Hazily, you’re blinking a few times. It clears your vision enough for you to jerk your head down and see that it was indeed true, Higuruma had stuffed himself inside your pussy until his thick base was kissin’ your pussylips. Just the most innocent peck.

“And now…” Except…fuck, except he was reeling right back again. “-for the fun part.”

Right back until that rounded tip stretched your hole out.

Right back inside-

“Makes me wanna put a baby in you- I swear. Taking me like this.” 

A/N. TONY’S BACK.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[pineapple-frenzy]

Matching pfp comm for @/apocalypse

[darklinaforever]

[finalsquidmissile]

Aang: Do you think they're going on adventures without me?

Katara: Go back to sleep Aang

[nootpnolife]

Working on some edits rn, im dyin

[seismictoph]

                 At  this  point ,  she  didn't  know  what  to  expect ;  what  to  do  or  how  to  be .  Being  unable  to  control  the  situation  like  this  was  the  most  nerve  wracking  part  of  it  all .  However ,  Toph  trusted  Zuko  enough  to  take  over ,  to  take  care  of  her .  She  didn't  know  what  experience  he  had  &  truthfully ,  Toph  didn't  want  to  know .  Too  many  things  were  going  on  in  her  head  right  now  to  let  in  room  for  something  that  didn't  matter .

                 The  more  his  hands  wander ,  the  lighter  she  felt .  As  if  she  could  pass  through  his  fingers  like  sand  on  the  beach .  She  wanted  to  tightened  her  grip  around  him ,  fearing  she  might  fall  from  his  daze  but  Toph  pressed  on ;  breath  increasing  the  longer  Zuko  continued .  Every  time  he  came  back  up  &  their  lips  met ,  she  eagerly  returned  the  gesture .  Connection  broken  as  Zuko  continued ,  Toph  unwilling  to  stop  him  this  far  in ,  her  own  hands  having  too  much  fun  of  their  own  exploring  up  his  chest  &  drawing  the  design  to  the  best  of  her  ability  with  dancing  finger  tips  to  etch  into  memory .

                 That  however ,  came  to  a  halt  when  he  nipped  at  her  ear  &  breathed  her  name  back  out  to  her .  Surely  she  could  have  died  in  that  instance .  He  had  no  right  to  use  his  voice  like  that ;  to  bring  down  once  sturdy  walls  with  a  mere  whisper ,  tone  laced  with  a  desire  that  did  not  need  vision  to  be  seen .  Instinctively ,  thighs  squeezed  around  his  waist  &  just  in  time  as  position  changed ;  hair  spiraled  out  underneath  her  &  the  robe  from  earlier  this  evening  threated  to  come  loose  and  expose  her  to  his  heated  gaze .

                 His  own  loose  hair  teased  heated  skin  &  using  it  as  a  guide ,  Toph  gripped  the  back  of  Zuko's  head  gently  but  firmly ,  commanding  him  back  down  again  to  kiss  her  again ,  like  the  spoiled  brat  she's  not .

[heirtoagni]

Zuko didn't resist the gentle pull of her hands…. if fact, it sent a shiver down his spine. She wanted more? Good. Because he wasn’t planning on stopping.

Their lips met again, charged with a pent-up passion that had been building for months. Every touch of their mouths was electrifying; every breath shared between kisses made his heart beat faster.

When she tightened her thighs around his waist and pulled him closer by his hair… oh. That did something to him…. something primal ignited in his chest. He kissed her more deeply this time: slowly at first, then with increasing intensity as he slid one hand under the fabric of her robe… caressing the warm skin just above her hip…

His other hand remained resting beside Toph's head as he leaned over her. Their bodies aligned perfectly, even though there was no real experience guiding them, other than instinct…. that of loving their partner and… of being united.

The more they continued, the more he was losing control… and she could clearly feel it, if she was paying attention. She could feel a growing excitement between his legs.

[nootpnolife]

INSANE FACE CARDS

[tonycries]

Love Thy D!LF - T.F.

Synopsis. Yes, your neighbor is a hot, pérvy D!LF. Yes, he’s a total tease. No, you don’t think your poor new bed frame is going to stay in one piece…

Pairing. Toji Fushiguro x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, older! Toji, voyéurísm, pánty-stéaling, male mast., exhibítionísm, he is so DOWN BAD, matíng presses, marathon s, víbrators, oraI (fem rec.), face-sítting, p slápping, p talking, BRÉEDING, mentions of kids, PÚSSYDRÚNK TOJI, proposals, overstím, creampíes, shóoting blanks, he’s a tease that’s shírtless half the time, Megumi’s a real one, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 8.1k (PHEW)

A/N. Apartment building wouldn’t last a week if he was my neighbor.

Neighbor (UGH): another pair of those cute lil’ pajama shorts made their way onto my balcony again, ma.

Your neighbor was a tease.

Ever since you’d stepped foot into this apartment building a mere few months ago, it seemed like everything and anything he did was to rile your poor head up into a frenzy - and, well, down there…

Because, for lack of a better term, Toji Fushiguro was hot. 

Once your landlord had off-handedly mentioned that the occupant of the apartment right beside your own was a single father, you’d imagined a sweet older man that doted on his young son and would likely steer clear out of your way. 

What you certainly had not expected was for your housewarming gift of a fresh batch of cookies to be oh-so-blatantly greeted by a staggeringly gorgeous man that took up every inch of the doorframe. Shirtless.

Bzzt–!

Your skin burns with the realization of just how deeply you’d been reminiscing back to that heavenly sight, hastily snapping your eyes back onto your blaring phone screen.

Neighbor (UGH): well? hurry before i start to like them too much <3

Ugh, you’re rolling your eyes at that mischievous little heart placed at the end of his text. It was absolutely embarrassing how that was enough to have a tiny squeal slipping through your lips involuntarily. Calling you flirty nicknames, flashing winks your way, lingering his hands just slightly whenever he helped carry your groceries upstairs - Toji did everything. 

You find yourself giving your reflection a slow one-over in your phone camera - just in case. Before padding eagerly down the treacherous pathway that carried you out of your apartment and along the five steps down the corridor to your neighbor’s door. 

Heaving out a shaky breath, you knock.

And Toji Fushiguro never made you wait. He never had you standing in the hallway for more than two seconds before that heavy wooden door swings open…almost as if he’d been suspiciously standing by for this.

“Took ya long enough. Heh, I was beginning to think you almost wanted me to have it, doll.”

Oh.

Oh.

Shit, you should’ve known - and it takes every ounce of will in your body to keep your gaze locked with the forest-green eyes sweeping down the expanse of your figure. Greedily. 

Because Toji was showing off what looked like miles upon miles of slightly-tanned, bulging muscles that were just about seconds away from ripping straight through the thin, white undershirt that stuck to him like a second skin. Molding to every curve and dip down, down, down- 

It’s not something new exactly, and if there was one thing you’d learned during your time here, it was that your eccentric neighbor wasn’t shy to show skin.

Especially around you. 

In one hand was grasped the soft fabric of your cotton shorts, swallowed up by his thick digits. The other propping up on top of the door to flex his strong biceps in a way that makes you gulp. 

You notice with a jolt that Toji’s pinkish tongue briefly peaks out to swipe over that sinful scar sitting prettily at the very edge of his smug smirk. Moving to hum cockily, “Cat got yer tongue?”

He knew what he was doing. 

God, this was already shameful enough without him making it worse. You were only grateful that so far you’d been called over for only a few sundresses and t-shirts - nothing scandalous, yet. 

“No-” you’re mumbling out. Trying oh-so-hard to not let your eyes flicker to the too-tight strain of his boxers around his thick thighs. Failing. “Just wondering how you probably need those shorts more than me, anyway.”

He didn’t - in fact, you’d prefer him without one.

A fat thumb of his finds its way to the hem of his boxers, tugging down so tantalizingly slightly to give you a sexy flash of skin. Lined with a sharp hipbone, and a dark happy trail - “S’that your way of tellin’ me you want me out of this, ma?”

“You wish, pervert.” You try to swipe at your shorts, only for Toji to dangle it far, far away from you. “I just meant those b-boxers look like they’ve seen better days. Years, even.” 

“Hah?” Toji’s dragging out mockingly, leaning his broad shoulders against the doorframe. He’s crossing his hands, letting your sight be obscured by the display of his strong, rippling forearms. So close now that you feel his breath fan your face, could smell every waft of his cinnamony masculine scent. Grin only widening, “M’being nice enough to take the time outta my day to hand over your cute lil’ pieces of laundry and this is how ya talk to me? I have better things to do, y’know.”

Huffing, you’re ready with a quick apology on the very tip of your tongue to get this over with as soon as possible. That is, before-

“He’s lying.”

Both of you snap your heads down towards the direction of the sullen, deadpanning voice. And you already know by the wearied sigh at the end who it belongs to. 

“Why, hello there, Megs-” you’re smiling, reaching out to ruffle those spikes of black hair that’d magically manifested beside the door. Ignoring Toji’s affronted grunts of “he never lets me do that.”

“He’s lying, y’know.” Megumi blinks his eyes up at you, and you silently wonder just how it was possible for a six-year-old to look like he’s seen all the horrors of the world already. He’s ruthless. Pointing a sharp, accusatory finger up at his father, “He doesn’t have better things to do. He’s been giggling disgustingly to himself in front of the door for the past-”

“That’s enough- why don’t you get some homework done, my son.” Toji’s clapping his hand immediately over Megumi’s mouth, wrangling his tiny, thrashing body over one shoulder before briefly disappearing inside. 

“Just tell her!”

“I’m taking your iPad time away!”

It’s just about all that you hear from inside before he makes his appearance again - shaggy, black tresses now disheveled, high cheekbones flushed, and from the corner of your very obvious staring you notice a pearly bead of sweat disappear between his cushiony pecs. Though, your eyes follow, you didn’t mind…

“Tch- kids these days, right?” he’s gasping in a few hurried lungfuls. Planting the shorts into your open palms, his calloused pads linger on your hand. “S-so uh, I take that the dryer’s not working, yet?”

You’re sighing, rubbing your fingers over your throbbing temples. “Yeah, I told Higuruma- our landlord to look at it, but he’s still on that business trip and won’t be back for a while. Sorry about all this, Toji.”

“Please-” he’s waving. “You worry your pretty lil’ head too much, it’s not like m’complaining now. Am I?”

“Yeah but-”

“Besides. Why don’t I take a look at it?”

“What?” your brows scrunch together, and the thought of Toji being inside your home made your words tremble ever-so-slightly with- anticipation? Excitement? Want? Whatever it was, it made his dark brows raise, and you’re sure you had an utterly unexplainable look on your face right now. “Do you even know how to?”

He’s scoffing, eyes rolling at you with practice. “Asking me if I know how to fix shit- of course, I fuckin’ know how to fix a dryer. Probably better than ol’ clipboard Higuruma himself. You need to be taken care of, y’know.”

And, yes, that might be so - but more than that came the idea that Toji had to enter your home to do so. You couldn’t help but think of something else. Making you mutter out a heated, “I’ll…consider it.”

He smiles a smug smile, a tiny dimple digging into the very end of his cheek. “Tha’s what I like to hear, ma.”

The very second that door shuts, you’re rushing back to your own apartment. Shorts clutched to your thumping heartbeat and thighs slightly weaker than they were just a few minutes ago. Slightly…hotter. Ready to scramble back into your bedroom and create just a bit more laundry for tomorrow. 

And only a few seconds later does Toji find himself doing the most pathetic fistbump behind closed doors. The beginnings of a sleazy smile on the very edges of his lips. 

“Smooth, dad.”

“Now I’m serious about no iPad-”

Megumi’s running back into his room before that rasping threat has even left Toji’s predictable lips. Grumbling, he’s making his way to that godforsaken frog-cased iPad cushioned in the middle of the sofa, possibly to hide it away for a few hours.

And then, he sees it. 

Now, one of the very reasons that Toji had rented this apartment in the first place was for that idyllic skyline winking up from over his balcony. Towering buildings, flashing lights, all overlooking his living room couch - which, unfortunately for him - or, well, fortunately more like - just-so-happened to be positioned right next to your own balcony lined with laundry. 

So it wasn’t exactly a surprise for him to catch a fluttering piece of cotton or ratty sleep shirt of yours for him to tease about later. 

With a sigh at the flashing piece of fabric, he’s shuttering the sliding window open - ready to call your pretty self over again before-

“Shit.” Toji hisses, deep baritone wavering. His brows are raising down at the stray cloth, prominent Adam’s apple bobbing with a gulp. You really wear this type of shit? Well, he shouldn’t exactly be surprised but…

But this?

Because wrapped easily around his long fingers was a pair of pretty, pretty lace panties. Panties. All pink and see-through enough that Toji thinks he could see his own fingerprints through that flimsy excuse of underwear. 

All of a sudden…his hands mindlessly raise up, up, up - mere inches away from his nose when…fuck.

“Damn, woman.” he’s spitting, snapping back to his senses. Ignoring the tightening in his pants to speedwalk his hasty way over to his bedroom in search of his phone. Just a few clicks away from texting you- “Gonna be the fuckin’ death of me I swear-”

And, see, Toji Fushiguro isn’t the type to stutter. 

He isn’t the pathetic type to let anyone else’s voice shoot a bolt of electricity down his spine - to choke right in the middle of his sentence. 

But, you always did throw him off, didn’t you?

Because he’s letting his maw slack open in a sharp gasp- no, shudder at the muffled, drawling sound from beyond the walls. Fingers loosening around his phone in sheer shock when he snaps his head towards his shared wall where your bedroom was. 

Where he could hear your honeyed voice. Moaning. 

And Toji gulps…before locking the door to his bedroom.

Like an animal, he’s immediately sneaking up to press his greedy ear against the wall where it was emanating from. Aching for every tiny gasp and whine, he could just imagine the way you were splayed out across your plush mattress, fingers buried deep.

So cute.

“Please- it feels s-so good.” Comes your cute mewl, followed by the buzzing vrrrr—! of what he assumes to be that hot pink rose toy of yours that’d accidentally gotten delivered to his address last week. And Toji almost snickers.

“F-fuck-” he breathes out shakily. Unabashedly listening for more, more, more- “Ya can’t be serious- what a treat.”

And Toji knows he should be the bigger person and stop listening, he knows he should ignore the sultry way your trembling moans were sending shockwaves down to his tight boxers. But he can’t.

“Ngh- r-right there-” you’re whimpering, and Toji tuts at the way he could’ve found your sweet spots much earlier. “-yeah- hah- jus’ a little more- Toji-”

His phone clatters! to the ground.

Did you just say…his name?

“Fuck-” One massive hand of his comes down to clap over his jaw-dropped mouth, biting back an answering moan coming from something dangerously dark, primal from inside his heaving chest. 

Shit, he can’t breathe - he can’t even think right now because every drop of blood in Toji’s entire body was sprinting down to his heavy cock smacking down his thigh. Rock-hard. Angry. Just twitching when your voice repeats his name louder. 

“Toji—!”

Ah, there it was again. And with it, he can feel every shred of his sanity being thrown away. Only once- twice was enough to get Toji addicted. To have his melty mind yearning to hear it again. And again. And again and again and-

Toji feels pathetic. 

Like some hormone-hazed, younger version of himself when his hands frantically fumble their way to hook into the elastic band of his boxers. Feeling absolutely zero guilt when he tugs-

Toji was hard. Painfully, furiously hard just from the mere sound of your voice. Swollen and sobbing. It was enough to have his fat, strawberry-pink tip smack! against his toned abs, smearing down a wet glissade of precum that makes him hiss. All but drooling at the scratch of your panties being wrapped delicately around his sensitive shaft. 

“Oh god.” he’s breathing out, thumbing over a wet glide on the bawling divot of his swollen head. It’s pooling like a translucent little puddle, wet enough that those pearlescent beads gloss a wet trail all the way down to his wrist. And he’s popping the salted-caramel digit into his mouth. “Wh-who the fuck do ya think you are ta get me this hard, ma?”

The fat curve of his thumb latches on to plug up the very ends of his cock, stopping himself from wasting a single precious drop before listening.

For anything.

“C-c’mon–” Toji lets his heavy body lean against the wall after a few more sloppy squelches that pull from your saturated cunt. He could already hear how dripping wet you were. How needy. “Wanna hear your hah- pretty lips talk-”

Toji’s sinking his sharp canines onto his lower lip to hold back a groan. Because as much as he loved to hear himself talk - hearing you moan was worth more than anything. Even if it cost him his rationality to quieten down. Please- 

Ah, his prayers are answered.

Because the wall slightly jitters with your vibrating voice once more. “Oh- sh-shit it feels so good-”

“Heheh, does it?” he’s grunting, drawing a slow wetness of swirls on the underside of his slit. Hard enough to send him seeing stars. “Tell me- t-tell me more, ma.”

And could you read his mind?

Because whatever’s left of it certainly seems to think so at the way that no sooner are the words spilling from his babbling lips that you’re feeding his blessed ears with a few more syrupy sweet whines. And Toji shivers when he hears the creak of your bed.

Damn…he could make it break. He’s sure. 

The thought is enough to send his hips rutting into his fist, furiously fucking up into it like he was angry. Like he wishes he could do with you-

“O-oh-” Toji gasps out a hot, condensed breath feeling the slight massage of your thin panties at his twitchy balls. He’s unsteadily picking its sticky cloth apart to press it even deeper into the drenched tufts of black at his hilt, down every thumping vein that’s lightning-bolted down his length. “This thing b-barely even wraps around my cock, doll.”

He’s hot. So, so hot. Latching onto the hem of his undershirt with his teeth to swipe across his sensitive nipples. 

Burning.

And, really, he didn’t know what was worse for his poor self - your noises from just the other room, or the way your panties felt so good down his cock in this one. 

“Good fuckin’ girl.” He twirls your panties around his fat hilt, meshing against the creamy pink at his hefty base. Fucking it up, up, up with pound after pound that half-leaves the poor thing in tatters. Well, he sure hoped you didn’t like this pair too much. “Probably so fuckin’ oh- wet now, huh? Did I do that? Didn’t know you were s-such a slut f’me.”

Every slobbering drag down his length has Toji’s dark brows knitting together. Back and forth back and forth back and- So hard. 

So hot and heavy. He could barely catch his breath, sweat perspires across his forehead, and Toji could almost taste the metallic tang of blood when he’s holding back every rasping ah! ah! ah! just to hear your voice. 

It was agonizing. 

And he couldn’t help but imagine the way you were probably toying your tired fingers over your clit - the way you’d probably be so shy at how he could so clearly hear you. Killing Toji that it was the only thing he could do.

SLAM!

“Shit-” Toji’s snapping his head up at the mindless way his free hand had come smashing down onto the nearby drawer for any shred of balance. Sharp ears searching desperately for any sign that you’d heard-

“Ngh- yes- jus’ a bit more-”

He breathes out a guilty sigh of relief when the saturated slurps of your cunt only continue. Filling his mind sloppily like his favorite song. Gulping in a harsh wad of saliva before spitting a thick stream right onto the very edge of his plump, reddish head. His hulking body wracks with a violent shudder as it drip! drip! drips down every tender spot on his swollen cock. Beading down to cover his heavy balls in a thin sheen of spit. 

“Look what you’ve done.” he’s spitting. Other hand coming down to rub lazy, massaging circles around his bulbous, cum-filled sacks. The sheer stimulation enough to have his head lolling drunkenly against the wall.

“M’so close-” Your voice only makes Toji fuck into his hand even harder - if only it was you. You, you, you - the only thing playing around his currently stupid mind. “-g-gonna cum ah-”

That makes him bawl out another furious wave of precum staining your panties see-through, glinting with every flutter down his raw cock. Faster. It was building and building up so close-

“C-close already?” he’s snickering, bending at the knees with how weak he was. Toji’s biceps flex and and ache with just how wildly he was fucking up into his fist, abs rippling with each wild buck. He half-wonders if he’d be able to see that pretty frilly pattern of your panties imprinted on his cock the next day. Over and over- “I woulda m-made you cum sooner.”

Would your beautiful eyes roll to the very back of your head when you did?

Would you beg him to cum, too? To fill you up. To breed you. Shit, that had his hefty shaft twitch in his hands, electricity flashing behind Toji’s eyes. 

Would you moan his name - oh, please moan his name.

“P-please-” Toji finds himself gasping, and his entire body was hunched over now. Pathetic. Waiting for any second that you’d reach your high - he was a gentleman, after all. “Cum f’me- ah fuck fuck fuck-” Twiddling a manicured thumb in a slow line underneath his sensitive slit, it was making him moan so dangerously loud. “-please- cum on this fuckin’ cock, ma.”

“Fuck! Toji-” Comes your yelp, and it makes his mouth water. Breath held in a choked-up gasp in his puffing chest, “-m’cumming.”

He could see it already - just how pretty you’d look with your head thrown back and your back arching into his cock when you finally reach your high. 

Now, Toji doesn’t know what overtook him to drag those drenched panties up to his face - to press it thoroughly against his nose and smell your essence. Breathing it in. drinking it in. But he can’t pretend like he hadn’t imagined it many, many times before. 

And it makes him cum 

It makes him shudder with a heavy puff of air, once. Twice. Before dumping and dumping out stringy wads of seed until your soft panties were soaked.

“Oh shit- shit shit shit-” he spews out a slurring slew of profanities, painfully hard cock bursting at the end with wet splatters of cum. So much of it. It’s making such a filthy mess that he almost feels guilty. 

Jaw clenching when he’s forced to part with your panties with a pained gruff, sliding it along his thoroughly coated cock. Hi cum seeps through the fabric and into a milky puddle that pools at his wrist, dripping down a milky sheen across his skin. 

“Mmpf–” his mouth salivates. A low, disappointed scoff bursting at the back of his throat when your own obscene noises quieten down. He missed you already. Dewy eyes veering to the back of his head, he’s only wondering how much prettier these would look on you. Still as ruined. “You’d be lucky to get these fuckin’ panties back, woman.”

Bzzt–! 

From its discarded place on the floor, he can read the notification flashing across the phone screen.

Cutie-next-door: I’ve decided - can you come by tomorrow to fix the dryer, pleeeease?

---

“-ah, ya see when this vent is clogged s’gonna stop working. And so what you hafta do is-”

You weren’t listening.

You couldn’t.

Because Toji Fushiguro was sprawled out across your cramped kitchen - completely shirtless.

You had half the mind to turn him away after he’d knocked on your door with absolutely no sign of any upperwear - that sleazy grin plastered all over his face begging the answer to whether this was on purpose. To tease you. “Can move better this way” your ass. 

But the thought of having even more of your laundry fly away, forcing you to potentially face this very same display multiple times is what had you opening your front door wider to let him inside. 

No matter how much you would’ve appreciated the view…

And so here you were, squirming in one corner of the kitchen while Toji worked on your dryer. Sweat sheening down his swole muscles, disappearing in tempting beads down underneath his low-hanging pants. Slight smears of grease decorate his pecs, and you have to cross your arms to stop yourself from thumbing them away. He was so handy. 

Shit, this was why you’d dolled-up just a bit more than usual. He was so-

“-doll? Doll.”

“Uh-” you’re yelping, blinking your eyes back up to meet an extraordinarily smug smirk now directed at you. “W-what were you saying?”

“Heh, I was saying you should take a picture, it’ll last longer.” he titters with a slight rumble, tools clinking when he’s taking off his bulky gloves. “Ya can enjoy the view later, but I was askin’ if ya had anything to dry right now to test this piece of junk.”

Urgently, you’re looking towards your empty laundry basket. “Sorry, seems that I dried them all out yesterday.”

“No pressure, besides-” You can only watch when he shuffles a hand inside one of his curiously bulging pant pockets. “-I came prepared.”

“Wh-wha- where did you get that?” 

Because held so daintily within Toji’s cocky clutches, dangled one of your missing pairs of panties. They looked recently washed, and you’re reaching with a yelp for it. Falling onto your knees to match his seated position - which, obviously didn’t mean he’d hand it over. 

Why would he? This was Toji Fushiguro. 

He only throws them into your dryer, before closing the door with a dark snicker, “More like why let them fly their merry way over to my balcony again. Honestly- you call me the tease but look who’s talking.”

“You’re saying I’m the tease?” you shrill. The embarrassment was getting to you now - it was overconsuming you - and if the leering smirk on Toji’s face was anything to go by, you were sure that it was visible. 

“If the shoe- or, well, panties fit.”

He was so cocky about his stupid lil’ joke. 

You stab a rude finger right between the valley of his pecs, copping a feel of the velvety smooth skin. “Sh-shut up, if you want to talk about a tease then let’s talk about who showed up to fix a dryer shirtless.”

“Part of the outfit.” he shrugs. Tilting his head up at you, and shit, it finally hits you how precariously close you two are right now. Toji’s splayed out on your cool kitchen tile, while you’re straddling his slender waist with jittery legs, pressed up against the heated proximity of his unfairly shirtless body. Chest-to-chest. “Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy the view, little miss had-a-fun-time-yesterday.”

You blink, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

But in true Toji fashion, the closest to an answer you get is a large hand attaching roughly onto your waist. Jostling your body close enough for him to breathe out in a feverish chuckle - hot, and purposeful against your ear. “The walls are thin. Just sayin’.”

Oh.

Oh, shit. 

You knew exactly what he was talking about - and so did he. 

“...I heard you, too, y’know.”

Ah, you can now live your life happily knowing that you managed to make the ever-confident Toji gasp. You managed to make him part his lips in a slight gape, green eyes glinting with a hint of something dangerous as they widen. His sensory digits pinch at your hips. 

“You mean-”

“Yes.”

Uncharacteristically, Toji takes a few gulping seconds to find his voice. And when he does - the very sound is enough to send shivers down your spine and make you wonder for a split-second whether this was really him. Hoarse, pained when he muses, “You heard me and still continued?”

Instantly, you’re trying to form excuses. “No! I mean- yes. It’s just that…”

“Heh, cute. You continued because of me- didn’t ya?”

Your jaw drops in shock, now a slightly defensive tone bleeding in with the embarrassment of your actions. “I-I mean I was doing- it- just fine before I heard you.”

Toji cocks his head, and only says one thing - “Prove it.”

.

.

.

“T-Toji this is embarrassing-”

But oh, all that Toji was wondering was whether he’d knocked his head on that goddamn dryer and gone to heaven already. 

Because splayed out for all his pleasure on the cushiony bed was you - quivering legs straddled wide open, your back arched in such a delicious curve that makes his mouth water. Your silken sheets were disheveled and sloppy enough that you’d have to pray the dryer works now. Glistening cunt winking down at him eagerly, just begging him in cute, slurring squelches after every buzzing push of your vibrator.

And Toji? Seated right underneath your cute cunt - hovering mere inches away from sitting on his cocky smirk. 

All he’d been imagining. As gorgeous as how he’d imagined you yesterday- no, even more so.

Toji’s leering up at you, muscular thighs manspreading even more to show off his furiously hard erection. “Shhh sh sh-” Toji hums, eyes unwavering from right between your legs. “She’s the one talkin’ to me right now, doll.”

And surely enough, it’s almost like he’s having a conversation with your pussy. Nodding and drunkenly humming along to every slurp that resounds across the heady room. “Tha’s right, make her- make her even wetter for me.”

He’s letting loose his long pinkish tongue to catch the drops of your sweet, sweet juices that slide down his throat. 

His breath is so steaming hot against your cunt. Feverish. You huff out a dragged-out whine, kissing up your plump clit with the very edge of your rose toy. Just barely teasing the sensitive hood, “B-but I need you so-”

“Now now, what did I say?” he tuts away your stubborn moans easily. And you’re gazing over your shoulder upon the utterly unapologetic grin that falls across Toji’s face when he tugs down his own pants to flash you with the fat, rotund curve of his ruddied tip. Curling his fingers over the very top, “You don’t need me, remember- Let that pretty pussy talk with me or all you’re gonna do is watch.”

Except now you didn’t think you could talk even if you wanted to.

Your eyes are glazing over with a fresh wall of need when they fall greedily upon the peaking sight of Toji’s fat cock. So massive that it makes your jaw slip open, your cunt gushing out in a few gushes of slick. 

“Oh shit- shit-” his eyes widen at the sight, so thoroughly honed in. Almost as if he doesn’t even realize he’s speaking to you. Doesn’t even know. And a few ringing squelches is all it takes for him to throw his head back with a groan. “That got ya wet, ma, didn’t it? Made your cute ngh- c-cunt happy?”

“Yes-” you’re gasping, winking away the overstimulated tears in your eyes. “B-but I want you-”

“Tell me exactly  what you want, doll.”

So bossy, you want to snap back. 

But right now you’re too hypnotized by the slutty sight of him to say a word. The way he seemed so ruined. That you can’t help but whimper, “I want you to hah- make me cum.”

And it’s just a split-second later when his brawny arms come wrapping around your jittery waist, hauling you over like some glorified rag doll to seat your fatigued legs down. Your dripping cunt meeting his mouth in a sultry, sultry French kiss. 

He doesn’t waste a second longer - almost as if beating himself up for all the time wasted - before dragging his tongue to open your presoaked folds. Swirling so hotly to smear them out across his lips, Toji dredges his raised scar across your most tender spots and moans. 

Sweet.

So sweet.

“This- this fuckin’ delicious?” He sounded like he was losing his mind, swatting aside your hand. “Move that fuckin’ hand. Y-you were- you were holding out on this? Could eat this cute cunt all the time- could marry ya-”

Proposing and proposing and kissing-

He latches down his glistening canines around your clit and pinches, almost as if a little punishment. And you could practically see the delight lighting up his dark eyes when your cunt slowly grows even more drenched. Little masochist, he’s thinking. 

You yelp when without any sort of warning his cheeks hollow out in a sudden suck at your sensitive nub, swirling his tongue over it. “H-how’s that feel?” he giggles - giggles. “Better than your imagination or what?”

It already was. 

But you couldn’t let his ego expand anymore than it already has, so the only thing you’re managing to do is trap a few sweat-dampened locks of his hair and drag your slobbering cunt down Toji’s mean mouth. Partly because you needed it, partly because you needed him to shut up. 

Choking out, “D-don’t get so full of yourself, Toji–”

“Full of myself?” he’s chuckling - face smeared with a translucent mask of glistening slick that told you exactly why he should be full of himself. It glosses over his curled lips and drips down Toji’s sharp jawline. “Full of myself? Gimme that-”

Instantly, your till buzzing vibrator is being snatched meanly out of your hands. “S’this what ya want, instead, ma?”

Toji didn’t expect an answer.

And you can’t give him one.

Because that furiously jittery probe is being bullied right between your puffy pussy lips, licking a languid line down the edge of your sloppy hole. Before he’s bullying the long end inside your eager entrance-

“Does it feel good?” he’s taunting. Sinking down onto your clit and pulling. “Oh yeah- feels great. Doesn’t it?”

But it’s such a mouthful that sputtered out into your clit. The vibrations of white-hot pleasure making your spine bow like such a slut into Toji’s ravenous mouth. And your jaw slack open in the most strained of whines, “Y-yeah feels so-mmpf-”

Immediately, your mouth is being firmly shut closed with one of Toji’s mountainous palms, and he snickers. Giving you pretty lil’ cunt a pat that has splatters of slick speckling all the way to his lips - ones that he gladly licks up. And then some at the remnant excess all over your thighs. “I was talking to her.”

“Y-you’re so mean.”

At this, he pulls back and blows a heated gust of air against your puckered hole. “And you’re fucking drenched.” That spearing bullet is lodged firmly against a few tenderized sweet spots that make you keen. “And she’s saying…s’not enough.”

You were sure he was talking for himself. 

Or…was he? 

Honestly, you don’t even know - you didn’t even realize what you were missing until the fat girths of Toji’s digits shove their filthy way into your narrow opening. Already so stuffed, yet, he’s scissoring aside the vibrator into the gooey depths of your walls. 

Either you could take him or he’ll make space. 

Whistling out in awe, “Dontcha think this feels muuuch better?” As if to whittle out another one of your syrupy sweet noises, you’re being gifted with another sopping wet thwack! against the ready nub of your clit. Before Toji wraps his scarred lips around it and sucks. “Look- she’s even fuckin’ wetter.”

You didn’t even have to see to be able to know - because you could hear. 

Toji was steadily pummeling your cunt with the most staggering smashes of the rounded curves of his fingertips into your sweetest spots. Jostling the vibrator inside, knuckles smashing it with friction to rub up against your constricting walls. 

Honestly, it was just so much. You felt stuffed. 

“F-feels like m’gonna explode.” you mewl at the heady thump! thump! thump! shuddering all across your body - and you didn’t know whether it was because of the thundering pulse in your ears, because of the way Toji’s fingers were crashing and thrusting against your tender g-spot. His neatly cut fingernails glide soaking wet grazes over and over in a sloppy staccato. “Ah! Right there, it f-feels so good-”

“Tch, you think I don’t know?” Toji’s rolling his eyes, muttering his words into your sopping slit. His free hand comes slamming down in a harsh smack! against your ass to make you lug against his face faster. “Ride yourself on me, ma.”

You stumble through it - yearning for more. 

“Faster.”

“I-I’m trying.’”

But it wasn’t enough. Obviously. 

And Toji’s impatiently revolving one hand around the curve of your waist to make you press down hard in the most sultry gyrations. Around and around it had him hypnotized. “Not tryin’ hard ‘nough. Cuz this pretty lady h-here’s just crying to cum, doll. Ya hear her?”

How could you not?

It’s all that you replay in your mind. Accompanied with a shot ngh ngh ngh that was curdling at the very back of Toji’s throat. Whispered into every graze of his tongue down your slit, you took a quick glance backwards to catch the way that he was properly fucking his fist now. 

Long, thorough drags down his achy cock to bead out wet sloshes of precum. Only getting faster. Sloppier. Red and angry-

“Shit.” you’re whimpering, hands steadying on either side of his bulging deltoids. It felt like your very bones were rattling along with the vibrator. Nails digging in to the muscle, “I th-think m’close- think m’gonna-”

And oh Toji’s eyes stray to the back of his head at how reminiscent this was of just yesterday. Snickering a heavy, “You ‘think’? I know she’s so fuckin’ close. Can feel her. Isn’t she? Gonna cum? Gonna make a ngh- mess on me, is she?”

Answeringly, he’s leaving another few smacks! on your mound that have your gooey walls fluttering, the double penetration of both the buzzing bullet and his fingers too much. Too close. You feel every delicate bundle of your nerves exasperate. 

And it’s impossible not to mumble out drunkenly - embarrassingly. “Sh-she is.”

It’s so rough.

Both your release and the way that Toji was fucking you through it - because the very moment he hears your breath hitch in a saturated manner similar to last time, he’s tugging out your buzzing vibrator and toppling it somewhere over the bed. Replacing it with every long inch of his heated tongue- 

Like hell he’d have you cumming on some damn plastic before his tongue.

“Shit- it feels so-” Barely managing to formulate the words into coherent syllables. Your body convulses when he swiftly pecks your pretty clit with the rose toy instead. “-so good- ngh! M’cumming m’cumming ah-”

Toji’s fucking you through your high with the double stimulation of his fingers and his tongues spreading open your snug insides mercilessly. Ruthlessly. Wave upon wave of pleasure that had your toes curling, vision flashing white. Sensitive pussy dredging up from the very bottom of his sharp chin all the way up to his button nose. 

It’s adorable how tired you were already, already huffing and puffing for breath. He could almost laugh if he didn’t have a mouthful already.

“Yeah tha’s right-” he slurps, more than talks. Thick digits curling tight and thumbing over his twitchy divot to wall up that velvety wisp of cum from escape. Leaving kiss after kiss to have your drooling cunt ride his sexy features faster. “-give it t’me.” Greedy. “Give it alllll to me.”

But even that didn’t seem like enough.

Because even after your aggressive orgasm was petering out into mere tingles at your quivering pussy, even after he’d slurped up every tiny drop of your honeyed juices - Toji Fushiguro was starved. 

So completely ravenous when he speaks, “I think…she’s sayin she wants ta squirt, doll.”

“Wh-what?” you’re breathing - you didn’t even know if that was possible.

With a surprising amount of gentleness, Toji’s placing you to sit all prettily on his spread legs. Just slobbering your pussy lips in an innocent smooch over his hardness. 

“Heh, what? Don’t trust me?” Toji cocks his head down at you in sheer smugness, a glistening gloss stained all around his lips. It made him look so fucked-out. And he felt like he already was - but Toji wouldn’t admit that. No, he’s only murmuring a wet, “Or are ya scared that m’gonna get ya ah- addicted?”

You showcase him with a slight pout that makes his riled-up cock twitch in one hand. That makes him immediately kiss it away - letting you taste him. Taste yourself. 

It’d already taken everything in him to stop himself from cumming just by making out with your cunt. 

“No s’just that- I’ve never squirted before…”

His words are sure. Confident. He’s echoing them from not too long ago, “Lemme take a look at that.”

And apparently Toji’s definition of taking a look is to slide the curve of his thick thumb in-between your dribbling slit. Up and down until his lips curl in a smile, “Well she’s tellin’ me that she can-oh shit, look at that.” Those very same fingers wrapping around the hilt of his thick cock to nudge your folds apart. “So why don’t I fix that, hm?”

God, Toji is so much bigger than he looked - which was staggering considering his sheer bulge was enough to send your mind reeling.

The curve of his fat tip bathes in a few more of your syrupy drops before bullying inside-

“O-oh my god-” Your voice wavers, sweat simmering all down your body at how dizzyingly Toji was spearheading your cunt open. Wide. So much of him that you didn’t know whether to buck your hips away or down for more, more, more- “S’too big- shit, don’t even know if I can ngh- t-take it, Toji–!”

“Oh, say my name like that once more n’ you’re gonna ah- hafta take every inch.” he grunts out, snarling smile making your gummy walls flutter around him. 

You’re being fed every solid inch, Toji’s girth making your tight circumference stutter. Gaping your sloppy hole wide open around his expanding cock- shit, just the slightest peak into your heavenly depths was enough to have his fat length swelling. Pushing into your tender sweet spots when he grows. 

“Y-you got even bigger?” you gasp, and it makes him cackle.

Throwing his head back to laugh, “Of course I got f-fuckin’ bigger when you feel like this, ma.” And two of his roughened palms glide their greedy pathway downwards to spread your thighs even further. Using gravity to his lewd advantage to help you gulp down your every mindless grind to simply fit himself inside. “W-where have ya been all my life.”

And Toji sounded like he was genuinely distraught that he didn’t know. 

He was genuinely so upset, lower lip wobbling with pure bliss once your overstuffed pussy was resting on his sharp hip bones. Giving an experimental little gyration of his hips to swirl his shaft around your walls, it makes you whine. 

“Tha’s what m’fuckin’ talking about.”

And then in a split-second, you’re being slammed onto your back and wrangled into the meanest mating press you never thought possible. 

It’s like Toji was out of control. 

Feral.

A slight trickle of drool trailing down the edge of his growling lips, “Shit- take my fucking cock ngh- take it all, doll. Ya don’t know how long I’ve been d-dreaming of this.”

“Yes yes yes-” you sputter. Edging your uselessly limp thighs to lock around Toji’s straining neck - and if he was going easy on you before. Then oh, you weren’t ready for the way this makes him snap his flexing body down to fold you in half. His sweat-beaded forehead knocking gently into yours, “-been ah- been dreamin’ of this ever since I m-moved in-”

Shit.

The thick pudge of Toji’s relentless head careens into the bullseye of your g-spot easily. And Toji titters to himself about the pretty moans that drag from your shot throat - that is, if he had the self-control.

Because your previous words were still thundering in his pussydrunken mind, and it makes him gasp. It makes him shoot his eyes open almost comically, it makes him crash his lips into your with a sullen hiss. “Give a man a fuck- warning. You c-can’t just say- things- like- that-”

As if to prove his point, he’s planting a few more heated French kisses against your sweetest spots. How he mapped them out so quickly you had no idea. 

His feverish breath hovers over your own mouth, gusts bounding out with every pound into your cunt. He’s bruising the circular branding of his sobbing tip down your spongy cervix, a tiny ah! of disappointment leaving Toji’s stern lips at the recoil that had him pushing back from the very bottom of your pussy. 

He’s so filthy. 

“Because what if–” It takes you a few seconds to realize that he’s still babbling drunkenly, flicking over a calloused thumb over your clit to get your delirious attention. “-are ya listening, woman? What- ah- what if I told ya I was the fuckin’ same. Wanted to f-fuck this cute cunt the moment I saw ya, wanted to ruin her- to breed her-”

And just when he’s heaving in such a sharp inhale. As if he’s spoken too much.

Yet, even through the way that Toji was fucking you stupid - you still manage to latch onto his words. 

“Y-you wanted to ah- cum inside?” you’re blinking up at him innocently in a way that only made his hips jackhammer against yours harder. Teasing your sensitive clit with a pinch. “Tell me, Toji.”

God- you said his name. 

Shit shit shit, didn’t he tell you not to-

“Yes!” Toji’s shuddering out, hefty balls twitching and thwacking their tight, cum-filled sacks against your ass. He’s fucking you so wildly. The mating press that he had you in let him glide a wet thrust down every single nook and cranny inside you. Every forbidden sweet spot. “Wanted- wanted it so badly- ah-”

Batting your teary lashes, “How badly?”

Two of Toji’s mean fingers come up to smush your cheeks together into an embarrassing pout, and he’s using that cutely ajar opening of your mouth to spit. A thick, honeyed wad of saliva that purposefully splatters along the edge of your lips - because Toji had perfect aim. He could’ve streamlined it all neatly between your lips.

But you looked and tasted so sweet this way.

When he could just kiss it away filthily with a drag of his tongue, “Shit- what a filthy fuckin’ mouth. Ya really know how to m-make me lose my mind, hm?” Splaying out one large palm about halfway down your stomach, he’s exploring for a lewd cylindrical nudge. A throb when his thickened head was smashing into your g-spot. “If ya i-insist- m’gonna fill ya up until I can feel it-” Pressing down. Hard. “Here.” And now he’s running his mouth a mile a minute, he’s dazed where his cadence grows sloppy. “Until you’re overspilling. Until yer all r-round and hngh- glowing and shit-”

God, he was flying too close to the sun.

Egging him on, he was fucking you into the bed like he was furious at you. Lurching out rickety creaks from the bedframe at his riotous slams! Teasing, “S-s’that it?”

“Is that it? I-is that it?” he’s repeating. Over and over like a humorless mantra. “No tha’s not- ah- fucking ‘it’. M’gonna shit- make you mine. Gonna fuck a b-baby or two into ya.” Shockwaves of electric white flashing down his spine when your gripping walls cling around him like a velvety channel. Stumbling through words, “So they’re gonna know- ah- th-they’re all gonna know what I did. Hah- how I ruined ya…”

You can only sob, “Toji– m’gonna-”

Stimulating tears gather up beside Toji’s eyelids with every pressurized ram, and he finds it in himself to rasp a drunken giggle. “G-gonna give Megumi a lil’ sibling, ma?”

He doesn’t have to hear your response, he doesn’t think he can. Because no sooner are you crashing into your orgasm that Toji is as well. 

He realizes before you - far, far before you at how you were squirting. 

Drizzling your juices in a coating gloss down his cock, his abs, some spattering up to Toji’s lips. He took a look into it alright. 

Your bolting waves of bliss intruded by his rummaging cock. Twitching once. Twice. Before struggling out thick gushes of sweltering hot seed. 

It’s splattering onto the very back of your bruised and battered cervix in a wet thwack! Oozing out the sides of your silt, you feel your gummy walls being inflated. The tug of ribbons upon ribbons of cum being fucked into sloshes inside and coats your melty walls like a second, sticky skin.

THUD!

Toji collapses onto his wearied forearms, caging you in with his big beefy biceps. Hips slowing down to tiny, subconscious ruts wrenching out the most obscene wet squelches. “Th-the heh- the fuckin’ bed.”

Only then are you batting your fatigued eyes open to realize that one side of the bed was sagging dangerously. “Toji did you b-break the bed?”

“Ah- so what?” And he’s scooping up your pliant body easily into his arms. Lifting you. Manhandling you. Pulling out of your split cunt for just a second to slam! you down onto your nearby work desk. The cool mahogany against your front makes you hiss, “I’ll jus’ t-take a ah- look at it.”

With this, he’s pressing down on the slightly bloated area near your cunt. Gaping. Gushing out thick remnants of his cum - it’s like he was playing around. 

The sight so heavenly that with a dragged-out gasp he’s finding his weepy cock blast out a few more wispy strands of cum. Shit.

“Shit- marry me-” Toji’s throwing his head back with a whimper - a whimper - when his jolting cock veers dangerously into the territory of shooting overstimulated blanks. “Marry me I-I swear. Gonna ah- put a pretty ring on ya, my doll.”

Which is why he’s swirling around his greedy pointer around your gaping entrance. Toying with the creamy ring of seed that’d painted its way around his thick base. Toji pools a few creamy dredges on his fingers and shoves them into your babbling mouth. “Ngh- Toji–!”

“Nowww, let’s see ngh- already finished off th-the bed-” he’s rattling off. Counting on a few fingers of his, “-we have the ohhh fuck- don’t squeeze m-me like that, ma, m’still sensitive- this desk, the floor- the dryer.”

“The dryer?” you mewl. “But you j-jus’ fixed that-”

“Ah, consider it a lil’ payment…along with those panties of yours, of course.”

And it’s only later. 

Hours and hours later, with your bed frame broken on one leg, your desk absolutely shattered, and your carpet soiled with a few whiteish rivulets that you’re finding yourself seated into a tight full nelson on top of the dryer. Toji still splitting you apart inside, shooting blanks before the front door rattles with a sudden knock! knock! knock! 

A deep voice resounding from outside, “Anybody home? It’s Shiu Kong. Higuruma sent me here to fix the dryer.”

“Fuckin’ Shiu…wanna let him in?”

---

“Hello, Shiu? How did the fixing go?” It’s by the next day that Higuruma gets a call in the middle of his important business meeting. One that would probably stay with him for a long, long time. “What do you mean the dryer is broken beyond repair?!”

A/N. Hope you all have a lovely week <3

Plagiarism not authorized.

[kkunai]

“toji, babe, you can’t just hold megumi like that.”

you had left your husband and one year old son alone to go to the kitchen and returned a minute later, only to find toji holding your child like he’s holding onto a grocery bag.

“why not? kid seems pretty happy ‘bout it.” toji shrugs nonchalantly, looking down at the baby, “look at ‘m.”

your eyes move to focus on megumi, whose limbs are kicking around in the air, the back of his romper being held by toji’s rough hand. your son seems fine; no cries or protests. in fact, he’s happily sucking on his pacifier and those blue eyes of his are shining like he’s having the time of his life.

“see, told ya,” toji smirks as he sees the surprise on your face because of how content megumi is in such an uncomfortable-looking position, “no need to worry. ‘m strong enough not to drop him.”

you can’t help but roll your eyes and walk over to the couch, sitting down. you have a small bowl of food and a spoon ready to feed your child, “thanks. you can hand ‘gumi over now though. need to feed him.”

toji raises an eyebrow as he looks at the baby food. he sits beside you, placing megumi on his lap before grabbing the plate and utensil from your hands, “i can do it.”

he goes ahead and scoops up some mushed food, which is way too much for one bite. especially for a literal child.

“alright lil’ buddy, open up,” toji hums and guides the big bite to megumi’s mouth. your son parts his lips with a happy expression, taking in the food, but not without leaving a small mess around the corners. it’s expected to happen since his mouth had only so little capacity.

“tha’s my boy,” your husband grins before feeding the poor child another huge bite. more than half of it got smeared onto megumi’s chubby cheeks; his romper also catching some drops that fell from his lips.

though, that didn’t matter to toji. all that matters is that megumi isn’t making a fuss and that he’s happily munching on the food that he’s given.

the mess being made is of little importance to toji. the fact that he ‘succeeded’ in doing such a small task without making his son cry, is enough of an achievement for now.

“damn, i’m gettin’ pretty good at this parenting stuff, don’cha think?” toji snickers.

…well, it seems like he still has a long way to go for it to be considered ‘good’ enough by your standards. you’re glad he is trying at the very least.

[tonycries]

Host!Gojo who’s not allowed to have favorites. But he clearly does—why else would he rush up to you n’ embrace you like a Iover as soon as you step inside the cIub, why else would he buy you Iittle trinkets and gifts, why else would his face sour as soon as he Iearns that your co-workers hitting on you again? Host!Gojo who ultimately asks you out- “Like on an extension of your cIub time? How much?” “No- no. Free of charge.” He blushes. Host!Gojo who even gets warned by the higher-ups—he’s their top earner, after all. Make the other customers feel less preferred and they’d be losing money instead. And so he makes one decision- he quits.

He’s only had eyes for you anyway.

[fwops]

aang, in all his avatar glory, is not above tongue-fucking his cum right back into your quivering, convulsing pussy. his wide, stupefied eyes glow white as he licks and scoops and sucks with relentless devotion, lithe tongue sweeping across your folds with striking precision only a master of the four elements could possess. powerful arms pin your thighs against the mattress while roughened hands palm over your lower stomach, cradling the skin above your uterus with something almost reverent in their touch.

“it has to take. . .” he’s mumbling to himself, practically incoherent, but you can still hear the raw desperation threaded through his guttural chanting. “has to, has to, has to—!”

“a-aang, mmph! what’s wrong? did something happen on your trip—?” you whimper through the haze of overstimulation, hands scrambling against his shoulders as you search for something to ground yourself with. he’s been at it for hours, ever since he returned from his home air temple. had stormed into your shared bedroom with the doors rattling against the walls behind him, barely a greeting leaving his mouth before he was climbing over you, frantic hands shoving the hefty layers of his robes and beads from his body like they’ve suddenly become unbearable.

in mere seconds he had you flat on your back.

then on all fours.

and then on your side and everything else in between.

“aang, honey, are you— hah!— okay? talk to me, baby. please.”

what new revelation could he have possibly had for him to suddenly fold you into a million different positions?

and you tried to run, to tap out after the nth round, but did you really think you could escape the hold of an avatar in his avatar state? a handsome, six-foot-five, one-hundred-something kilogram man so utterly desperate to revive an entire bloodline, yet far too in love to want to do it with anyone else but you?

aang’s voice comes out rough, wrecked with pathetic want. “need to get you pregnant,” he finally admits, lips never leaving your twitching clit. “need it right fucking now.”

his sharp, unfamiliar words send a shiver straight up your spine.

he begrudgingly sits up, one hand keeping you spread for him while the other drags down his chiseled abs, ghosting over the twin downward arrows that curl just above his v–line. he fists his burly cock in slow, measured strokes as he readies another thick load, bright eyes trailing from your flushed face to your heaving breasts, tongue-in-cheek.

your heart jumps. you know that look. “aang, i know how much reviving air bending means to you, the duty you have to your people—” you start in an attempt to soothe.

because when he gets like this you tend to wobble for the next few weeks.

he cuts you off with a dry, humorless chuckle. “you think that’s what this is about?” he tilts his head, eyes narrowing.

you could only gulp in response.

then, he’s rising above you, broad, muscular shoulders boxing you in as he settles between your thighs. the heavy heat of his dick presses against your sensitive, aching entrance, his incandescent gaze dragging over your face like he’s trying to memorize every expression, every shaky inhale.

mapping out your features in his mind with perfect, painful precision.

the realization that had struck him back at the temple as he looked at every mural, every worn painting and towering statue of the air nomads. they all looked like his people. familiar faces, familiar smiles, familiar eyes, familiar powers.

but none of them resembled you.

none carried the curve of your lashes or the little furrow in your brow when you worried. none had your laugh, the unique slope of your nose, your warmth, your favor for sour over sweet, your gentleness for children and particular bugs. and suddenly, the grief that sat in his chest for years changed shape entirely. because what would be the point of preserving the world he lost if, in doing so, he lost every trace of the person he loved most within it?

“this—this isn’t about me reviving airbenders or a duty to save my dying culture. this isn’t about avatar sonam or tagah or monk gyatso or anything that has to do with bending. this is about you and me and me wanting to start a family with you,” he states with that heavy, solid avatar voice of his. firm and sure, thumb brushing along your jaw, “this is about me making sure that a part of you will always exist in a world where the avatar exists. that your lips, your eyes, your soul. . . live on for eternity. so that every time i look into this world through the eyes of the new avatar, i can still see you. see you in our grandchildren, in our great-great grandchildren, in the people that will come to exist because we loved each other. . . to know that you’ll always be in my life someway, somehow.”

“aang. . .”

“i realize now that there will come a day when airbending returns, whether in our lifetime or long after we’re gone.” he presses his forehead against yours, tone softer despite the ache in his words. “i know that i’ll get to see that vision through the eyes of the avatars who will come after me. and if i keep chasing impossible answers, impossible resolves— if i keep throwing myself at a future i can’t force into existence— i’ll lose you in the process. i’ll waste the little time we’re given together. with our friends. with our children. the thought of losing you to time. . .”

it kills him.

you feel it. the shift in him. the sincerity behind every broken word, every trembling breath. the sheer despair that claws through him at the thought of you leaving nothing behind of yourself, of the love the two of you share. the regret he’d forever live with if he only prioritized the revival of air-bending or the kids that would inherit it. and the fact that he still hasn’t left the avatar state only makes it worse, every emotion stripped raw and vulnerable beneath glowing eyes and tattoos and shaking hands.

“so i vow now that i will never neglect your life or your culture for the sake of mine. whether we have airbending children or not. . . that is up to the universe.”

his hands cup your cheeks gently as he leans in, connecting the both of you in a slow, sloppy kiss. you could only gasp as he slips his tongue in, as if to seal your fate with his.

he slowly pulls away, thick fingers easing you open as he makes room for himself. “i can live without other airbenders. i can make due with the acolyte family we’ve founded. what i cannot live without is you. what i cannot imagine not ingrained in this world beyond my lifetime is you.”

aang smiles for the first time tonight, like the image in his mind was far more beautiful than anything he could’ve ever imagined. he sinks inside, massive and overwhelming, drawing a raspy breath from your lungs at the sheer stretch of him. still, you pull him closer, wanting nothing more than to feel the slow, heavy drag of him inside you.

“so for now,” he whispers, breath warm against your lips as he begins moving slowly, in and out, “all i want is a child with you. one that embodies everything that you are. one that will carry on your memory, your curiosity, your strength, your traits.” gone was the glow of the avatar state, the white fading slowly from his eyes until they were simply his again, fixed on yours with a tenderness so deep it was almost unbearable. “so i’m begging you. . . give me a baby that looks just like you.”

you cry out helplessly as he buries his face into your throat, holding you impossibly close. every stroke is long and deliberate, driven far less by hunger and more by an emotion too large for words. the slick of your arousal coats his balls as you helplessly grind against him, cunt fluttering around the girthiness of his base. you could feel all the veins that line him, tracing your walls as he fucked you like he needed you to breathe.

you feel the dampness at the corner of his eyes as he clings to you, hands roaming your body in a worship-like trance, as though he was reassuring himself that you were real and here and present and his. to have and to hold and to sink himself into when the world is in chaos.

“please,” he croaks hoarsely into your neck, voice cracking around the word, and the raw vulnerability in it makes your chest ache more than anything else ever could. “say you’ll give me a baby, sweetheart. say you’ll give me this one thing. even if they come without air-bending.”

a broken sound leaves your throat as you cling to his shoulders, nodding desperately against him, back arching into his warmth. “yes,” you breathe out shakily, fingers curling around his nape. “yes, yes, yes. of course, i will.”

the words—your defining proclamation—undo him entirely. he groans into the curve of your neck, holding you so tightly it almost hurts, every breath hot, cold, then hot again against your skin. his tattoos begin to faintly glow once more as he shivers, hips still pumping his seed into you, forehead pressed beneath your jaw, as though he can’t bear even an inch of distance between you.

when he finally pulls back, his eyes have returned to their natural state, shining with something far softer than desire.

devotion, perhaps. a need to always keep you safe. to give you—and your children—a world that offers everything and takes nothing in return.

“i love you,” he murmurs softly, brushing the damp strands of your hair from your face. he rests his forehead against yours again, eyes slipping closed as his heart, for once, is finally at ease. “thank you.”

your lips tremble into a tired smile, fingers curling weakly around his head. “you never have to thank me for loving you.”

though your words alone could never truly capture the depth of everything you’ve given him.

[kaisersbae]

husband!toji and baby!gumi headcannons ୨ৎ

husband!toji who acts like nothing fazes him, but the second baby!gumi grabs his finger, he goes completely still, like he’s holding something fragile and sacred.

husband!toji who never smiles in public, barely reacts to anything, but at home? baby!gumi giggles once and he’s cracking the softest, rarest smile you’ve ever seen. 

husband!toji who carries baby!gumi everywhere, one arm effortlessly holding him against his chest, like it’s second nature, like he was always meant to do this. 

husband!toji who pretends he doesn’t understand baby talk, but still listens carefully when you ramble to baby!gumi, quietly memorizing every little thing that makes his son happy. 

husband!toji who falls asleep on the couch with baby!gumi on his chest, one large hand covering the baby’s back protectively, like nothing in the world could take him away. 

husband!toji who doesn’t trust anyone else to hold baby!gumi for too long, always watching closely, arms crossed, ready to step in the second something feels even slightly off. 

 husband!toji who hums quietly when rocking baby!gumi to sleep, not even realizing he’s doing it, his usual rough edges softening in a way no one else ever sees.

husband!toji who lets baby!gumi grab his hair, his shirt, anything, never once pulling away, just watching him with this quiet, unreadable fondness. 

husband!toji who gets oddly competitive over firsts—first word, first step—pretending he doesn’t care, but secretly hoping baby!gumi says “dad” before anything else.

husband!toji who wakes up instantly at the smallest sound from baby!gumi, even before you do, already on his feet and checking on him without a word.  

husband!toji who teaches baby!gumi the most random things, like how to grip properly or stay balanced, even as a baby, like he’s preparing him for everything. 

husband!toji who sits quietly beside you while you feed baby!gumi, one hand resting on your thigh, the other lightly brushing over the baby’s head. 

husband!toji who memorizes baby!gumi routines better than he lets on, knowing exactly when he’s tired, hungry, or just wants to be held without being told. 

husband!toji who looks at you differently after is born, quieter, deeper—like you gave him something he never thought he’d have, and he doesn’t know how to say it. 

𝐤𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐞, 𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐫, 2026. 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐢.

[mydiluc]

Having sex with Diluc Ragnvindr a few days before his 18th birthday, the boy you’ve loved for the years of your childhood, now grown into a man. Losing your virginities to each other as his gift, all nervous but fervid touches and gasping between kisses while he rocks into you.

The days that follow are nightmarish blur. What was a celebration of the one you love, has turned into something you could only stand by and watch in abject horror as Diluc loses everything around him.

But not you, never you.

And still, he leaves. He can barely look you in the eye when you take his hand with a sob, and tell him to be careful and you will miss him. That you love him.

You know not to write him, it’s much too dangerous. You believe that he will return to you, and Diluc looks up at the pale moon each night — whether through blood soaked lashes after a fight or above the snow capped mountainside and thinks of you.

Those 4 years pass by slowly and then all at once, your little house nestled in outer skirts of Springvale where you sit outside on a blanket and look at the shapes in the clouds that pass by overhead. You still thought of Diluc, who you no longer knew if he was alive or dead, but it was hard not to be reminded of him in your daily life.

So when you’re standing outside and hanging your freshly washed laundry on the line, laughing at the way the wind blows your bedsheets every which way — you then find yourself startled at the shadow cast behind them, but you cannot look away.

A breeze flutters softer then, lifting the sheets away like a curtain to reveal Diluc Ragnvindr standing in front of your house.

Your fingers grasp at your skirts, blinking rapidly in confusion, you’d thought you had stopped hallucinating him a long time ago. He steps forward, you gasp at the crunch his boots make in the dirt, he says your name. Your body shakes as your hand comes up to your mouth, a sob behind it when he reaches for you and the boy you fell in love with is here, taller and broader and covered in scars and hair wild when he touches your face.

He exhales an apology, searching your face with pain in his eyes, your heart aches in your chest as you cup his face in return. Your knees wobble and he catches you when you collapse in his arms, crumbling to the ground while holding onto his jacket.

It’s all short lived then, his forehead coming to rest against yours, when you hear a small voice coming from your doorway. A tiny hand grasping a toy, a head of red hair swept to the side with a clip, and a small heart that has kept your own beating since the day you found out she was in your belly.

“Mama, who that?” she says curiously. Chubby, bare feet padding through grass and coming to tug on your arm. Diluc stares for a long time as she tilts her head at him and grins, sunsettia juice on her chin,

“He’s got the same hair as me!”