something about your ass just drives toji insane. whenever he sees you, his hands just automatically go over to grab a handful of your ass. like a moth to a flame.
whenever you wear anything that accentuates your ass shape, he's basically drooling from the corners of his mouth. sometimes when both of you are walking, he would slow down on purpose just to see the way your ass moves from left to right. his eyes just glued to your ass like you are hypnotising him. when you realise he's behind you and ask him to hurry up, he mutters a low ‘my bad’ with a little smirk plastered on his face before catching up to you.
he can't go a full day without giving your ass a few smacks here and there. when you wear shorts that have your ass peaking out of them while at home, he will appear behind you unannounced and place kisses down your neck, all while he gropes you under your shorts and kneads the flesh with his calloused fingers. he is mesmerised by how soft and plushy your ass is and how it just seems to mold perfectly into his hands. so of course, he gets down on his knees to place his face right where it belongs. just like the perv he is.
🜼 ⋆ toji hates when you cover your face whilst he’s fucking you dumb
tw: spıt, degradation, rough sēx !
“fuckin’ move your hand.”
his voice slices through the thick slap of skin on skin, ragged and breathless, but not any softer for it. his hips grind into you, deep and deliberate, cock dragging along your walls like he’s angry at them. like they’re the reason you’re crying already.
and maybe they are. maybe he is.
you cover your face anyway, forearm thrown over your eyes like it’ll save you. there’s snot on your lip, tears in your hairline, and your voice’s all broken up. you keep trying to tell him something—something about how it’s too much, how he’s too deep, how you can’t stop coming, and he just laughs, a sharp huff against your cheek.
“tch—again?” toji spits, a little amused. a little cruel. “can’t even take a proper fuckin’ dick without fallin’ apart, huh?”
your hand trembles where it shields your face, like it wants to fall. like it knows better. but then he shifts his weight, catches your wrist, and yanks it down to the bed with a slap of sweat-slick skin on cotton.
“wanna see your fuckin’ face when you cry.”
you whimper when toji says that and he simply grins.
“there she is,” he murmurs like he’s mocking tenderness, hips rolling slow now, filthy and sticky, cock buried in you to the hilt. he gives a rough thrust, then another—each one lifting your back off the bed, forcing your chest to arch. “s’pretty when you sob. keep lookin’ at me, baby. don’t go hidin’ now.”
you can’t. he’s so deep it’s nauseating. so thick it feels like your cunt’s gone loose and raw trying to keep him in. his pelvis presses right where it shouldn’t and it makes you jolt, a breathless little hiccup of pain and heat that makes your thighs twitch.
he notices. of course he fucking does.
“you like that? yeah, i know you do,” he pants, voice getting rougher now. his hair’s stuck to his forehead, eyes dark as sin. “cryin’ like a fuckin’ whore but keep squeezin’ me like you’ll die if i pull out.”
he grabs your jaw—his hand huge, fingers curling rough around your throat just enough to make your breath skip. your mouth falls open on instinct, dumb and wet and desperate for more, and he spits right on your tongue. doesn’t ask. doesn’t wait.
“swallow it.” and oh you do.
“good fuckin’ girl.”
he starts moving again, really fucking you now, rough and deep, his balls slapping up against your ass, wet and relentless. the bedframe creaks like it’s gonna break. your head knocks into the pillow with every thrust, dizzy and messy and barely present in your own skin.
“you think i’m gonna let you cum like this? when you keep coverin’ your face like a brat?”
you sob out a “no—no, please—i’m.. toji ngh, i’m sorry,” and he chuckles dark. leans down until your noses brush, until you’re forced to look up into those black eyes while he ruins you.
“yeah,” he murmurs, lips brushing yours. “you are sorry.”
🜼 ⋆ when the new girl from nanami’s work place made you doubt yourself, your boyfriend is there to remind you; he belongs to you by making you sit on his face.
the city hums faintly beyond the closed window, muffled by heavy curtains. the lamp on your nightstand casts the room in a warm amber haze, just enough light to trace the shape of him lying beside you. nanami kento—hair slightly mussed from the day, sleeves rolled up, shirt half-unbuttoned. even exhausted, he looks composed, a man built from restraint.
you lie against him, curled into the heat of his body. one of his hands rests at your waist, thumb brushing idle strokes through the thin fabric of your sleep shirt. the weight of him there is comforting—steady, grounding.
“long day?” you murmur, voice soft, not wanting to disturb the quiet.
“mm,” he hums, eyes closed. “meetings. too many.”
you smile faintly, pressing your cheek to his shoulder. “with who?”
he cracks one eye open, glances at you. “colleagues. clients. the usual parade of inefficiency.”
you laugh softly, but there’s something coiled in your chest. “were your colleagues at least tolerable today?”
“depends on your definition of tolerable,” he says, deadpan, which earns him another quiet laugh. “one of them spent the meeting typing so loudly i couldn’t hear myself think. another spilled coffee everywhere. a disaster, as always.”
you hum, fingers tracing a line down the front of his shirt. you shouldn’t, but the words slip out anyway: “what about the new one? the girl who started last week.”
his brow lifts slightly. “hm?”
“was she there too?” you ask, trying for casual, but your voice catches on the edge.
nanami studies you now, gaze too sharp for comfort. “yes. she was there.”
you swallow. “is she… fitting in well?”
“she’s quiet,” he says evenly. “seems capable. but why are you asking me this?”
you force a shrug, avoiding his eyes. “i was just curious.”
he’s silent. the kind of silence that makes you feel exposed, as though every unspoken thing inside you has already been laid bare.
“no,” he says at last, his voice quiet but certain. “you’re not just curious.”
your chest tightens. you want to insist, to play it off, but you can’t. the words tangle in your throat. i just wonder if she’s prettier, if she’s smarter, if she’s the kind of person you’d look at twice in a way you don’t look at me anymore.
but you don’t say it. you don’t have to—nanami reads it in you anyway.
he exhales, long and controlled, and then he moves. in one smooth motion, he shifts, guiding you onto your back and rising over you. his gaze is heavy, his jaw set.
“don’t do this,” he says, low and unwavering. “don’t sit here doubting yourself. doubting me.”
“i wasn’t—”
“you were.” his tone cuts through your protest, not cruel, just firm. “and i won’t let you. not for a second.”
before you can reply, he kisses you—deep, deliberate, swallowing the sting of your half-formed words. his hand cradles your face, his other sliding down your thigh, coaxing it open. his lips trail to your ear, his voice a rough whisper.
“you think anyone else could have what you have? what i give you?”
your breath stutters, but you can’t answer.
“i’ll remind you,” he murmurs. “properly.”
he shifts lower, pulling you with him until he’s lying flat and you’re straddling his chest. your heart races as realization dawns, but his grip on your thighs leaves no room for retreat.
“nanami—”
“sit,” he orders, voice calm but unyielding.
you hover, trembling, embarrassed by the intimacy of it, but he doesn’t allow hesitation. his hands are firm, dragging you down until you’re against his mouth. the first stroke of his tongue is slow, reverent—then the next deeper, hungrier.
your gasp breaks the quiet, your fingers tangling in his hair. “wait—”
he hums against you, the vibration jolting through your core, and it’s enough to unravel any thought of stopping. he works at you with devastating precision, tongue and mouth unrelenting. every flick, every drag feels like worship, like he’s carving his devotion into you with every breath.
you try to lift yourself, overwhelmed, but his hands anchor you down, holding you firm. “don’t run,” he murmurs, his voice muffled, command threaded with tenderness. “take it.”
your thighs quake around his head. your cries grow higher, thinner, until you break—shaking, spilling over his mouth. but he doesn’t stop.
he drags you through it, coaxing you again, mouth greedy, tongue insistent. overstimulation burns through you, sharp and sweet, and tears prick your eyes. “kento, i— i can’t—”
“yes, you can,” he says, pausing only long enough to breathe the words against your skin, then diving back in, sucking, licking, devouring.
you sob his name, hips twitching helplessly against his face. pleasure coils and snaps again, your body trembling as another wave crashes over you.
he swallows every sound, every shiver, until you collapse forward, boneless, clinging to the headboard for support. still, he doesn’t let go—doesn’t stop until you’re crying into the pillow, begging weakly for mercy.
only then does he ease his grip, kissing your thigh before guiding you back down against his chest. your body shakes with aftershocks, your breath uneven.
he strokes your back, his lips brushing your temple. his voice is quiet, certain, but it cuts through the haze with unshakable weight.
“i’m yours,” he says. “only yours. never forget it.”
nanami’s attempt in degrading didn’t go very well.
-
nanami had your chin in between his thumb and forefinger as you knelt submissively in front of him, both of his knees practically caging you in. he yanked your face lightly, forcing you to look at his eyes. “take out my cock and suck like the dirty little slut that you are.”
there’s silence before he leaned in closer, closer, and closer. moving way past your face as he rested his head on your shoulder. “my love, i can’t. i’m sorry, i didn’t mean that. that was mean. can we pick this up another day? that was my limit,” he mumbled, picking you up from the floor as he put you on his lap. you laughed, having expected this one way or another from the sweet man. “that was your first sentence, ken,” you pointed out, giggling at the feather feeling of kisses he’s planting on your neck like apology, as if you needed it.
you had been the one to ask your boyfriend to try and degrade you, but seeing how things just played out it seemed that you’re the one who owed an apology instead as nanami looked like he was held at gunpoint when he did it. “i know. i don’t think i’ll be able to do it, sweetheart. i want to worship you, all i could think about just now was how i should be the one on the ground instead, kneeling as i adore every inch of your skin as you kindly let me,” he muttered, rubbing your knees to ease the non-existent pain from before.
“you can do that and be mean to me,” you replied teasingly, truthfully already beyond happy that he’s willing to try things out just because you asked him to. he closed his eyes as you played with the ends of his strand of hair, but there’s a slight furrow on his eyebrows as he listened to you, confused. like he couldn’t even comprehend what that word meant especially when it comes to you. “i admire your optimism after seeing my attempt,” he sighed softly, nuzzling closer to your neck.
“okay, maybe we can try something else. maybe hair-yanking?”
“what? won’t that hurt you? is that truly something people are into?”
kento is such a gentleman to his wife in public. holding doors open, getting you out of the driver's seat before you can unbuckle your seatbelt so he can walk around the car to help you out, tying your laces for you, doting on you when you're on your period… those are the basic things. your husband is way above all that. he goes out of his way to fuss over you constantly.
he's so far past "gentlemanly" that it almost feels unfair to compare him to anyone else. kento's the kind of husband who notices the tiniest little things before you even register them yourself. if your hair is pinned up for the night, it's him who quietly undoes it for you. he doesn't let you fall asleep like that, no matter how whiny or pouty you get about being tired.
bathing... he insists on doing it together, because for him it isn't about convenience, it's about closeness. you're bare in his arms while he's washing you carefully. kento takes his time, running the loofa along between your shoulders where you can't reach, your arms, your torso, making sure you're spotless and comfortable before he worries about himself. he has the patience of a saint, coaxing you with little kisses to your temple or a soft "just a little longer, my love," until you finally melt into his touch and let him do what he's set on doing.
in the presence of others, kento is affectionate in the most polite, impossibly tender way. a hand resting firm and protective on the small of your back, his arm always available for you to hook onto, subtle kisses to your knuckles when he's speaking with someone else. never anything showy or crass, just constant proof that you are his priority. if you're upset or start acting out, he never embarrasses you in front of others. after excusing you both, he takes your hands so you can't pull away, bend to meet your eyes, and speaks so gently that it disarms all your frustrations.
without raising his voice, he guides you back down to calm. the way he does it makes you feel less like you're being corrected and more like you're being cared for.
his behavior is noticeable. people stop and stare when he carries you at galas because your heels are hurting your feet - when he takes your plate from you halfway through dinner because he's noticed you've lost your appetite and quietly orders something lighter for you instead.
in truth, kento brings out that princess side of you because he leaves you no room to feel anything else.
now, in the private confines of his bedroom...
he's a beast. big, heavy, way too much cock for your body to handle. his voice in your ear crooning: "didn't i say no running, dear? i know you can manage all of me." you're split open, stretched to the limit while he rocks his hips real slow just to make you feel every single inch of him grinding deep.
kento keeps you spread open for hours. your pussy's dripping down your thighs, his cock sliding in and out of your sloppy hole. "mmhn... k-kento! baby, p-please slow down, please-!" but he won't. he knows that's not what you really want. he just holds your face, thumb in your mouth, making you suck it while he ruts into you harder.
kento cums too much. way too much. it's as though he'd been saving it all up for you. thick loads flood your cunt until it's leaking down to the sheets, and every time you gasp out, "ken- please, can't hold anymore, mngh! 'm too full!" he keeps fucking it back into you. or he'll pull out to scoop up what you've let drip out of you, and shove it back inside with his thick fingers. "need to keep all of me in, sweetheart."
by round three, you're gone. since you're barely able to hold yourself up, he grabs your waist and uses your body to fuck back onto him like a toy. he's hitting your gooey sweet spot over and over without slowing down or easing up. you're stuffed with all the cum he's spilled inside you, and yet he continues to mouth at your neck and mutter nasty shit into your skin. "mhm, right there. mm fuck you're sucking me in so perfect. have i tired my little wife out?" he tuts. "that's a shame. i'm not quite done yet. not until you're bred full."
but kento doesn't even know what "full" means when it comes to you. you're already stuffed to the brim, your belly round and tight from how much he's pumped inside, and still he's pounding your wrecked little hole like he hasn't already dumped load after load in you. he watches it spill every time he pulls out - thick and creamy - and then he just pushes back in, groaning about how you're wasting it, how your body should be holding all of him.
he rubs your clit with two fingers until you're wailing and squirting all over his pelvis, crying from how raw and overstimulated you are, and all he does is kiss your tears away and fuck you through it like it's the prettiest thing he's ever seen.
kento flips you onto your side, pins one leg up to your chest, and drills into you from behind, panting about filling your womb until you can't walk straight. you're cockdrunk, drooling into the sheets, sobbing every time his fat tip punches your cervix, and still he doesn't let up. he manhandles you again so you're sat up on his lap, bouncing on his cock even though your thighs are trembling.
when you scream and gush around him one more time, adding to the creamy mess on his cock, he'll fill you right after then lays you down with him, not pulling out. you're held tight to his chest while he grinds lazy circles into your oversensitive cunt. your body still spasms around him, wrung out far too much, and he just kisses your messy hair like nothing's wrong and dozes off in seconds.
his cock is still heavy and swollen where it rests inside your ruined little hole, but somehow it helps you fall asleep soon after. he's keeping you warm.
Toji had been calling and texting you for the past hour, since he hadn't heard anything from you all morning. He knew you didn't have to go to work, but maybe you got called in, or maybe you went somewhere and the service is terrible. Maybe your phone is dead. Maybe you're mad at him about something he wasn't aware of. Maybe you're hurt.
No more maybes. He has a spare key for a reason.
Toji had rarely put the key you gave him to use. Normally, you were either home already or you would let him know when you would be home, so this was a weird occurrence.
He shut the door behind him. There was no smell of breakfast lingering or the sound of your TV or your phone. The bathroom was empty, you weren't in the living room. What the hell?
Toji opens the door to your room and spots a lump on the bed. It seems to be barely moving, like it's breathing. He sighs, and makes his way to it, ripping the blanket off. He's prepared to face the consequences.
"Mm..." you whine, sleepily, curling up to shield yourself from the light and the breeze that brushes against your skin.
While normally Toji would be all over you, like a dog with a bone, for not wearing bottoms with his shirt, he feels the need to press you this time.
"Why the hell are you still sleeping? It's one," Toji chides. He furrows his brows when you don't react. "Hey," he calls, poking your forehead. When you continue to ignore him, he pokes your cheek. You whine, annoyed by the disturbance.
"Are you sick or something? Why are you sleeping?" He pokes at you again when you don't respond.
"Tojiii," you groan. "I'm off. Just gonna sleep today."
"Yeah? Well, what about me? I'm not some stupid Tamagotchi that you can just toss aside and forget about."
"Wanna lay down with me?" You mumble, tiredly.
"No, we're gonna go eat, so get up and get dressed," he says, pulling at your shirt.
"But Tojiii," you whine, dramatically. You grip onto your sheets when he starts making progress on literally dragging you out of bed.
"Don't start. We both know I can lift you like you're weightless," he says, like it's a threat.
"Toji, if you drop me, I will scream," you warn, still clinging to the sheets.
"Wouldn't be the first time your neighbors hear you screaming because of me."
"Okay, Toji. Okay," You say, turning your head and staring at him in playful disbelief, before plopping down on the bed again. "I'm not going anywhere."
"What?" He halts his pulling of your shirt.
"You heard me," you respond, with more than enough sass.
"I wanna hear you say it with your chest. Don't muffle your attitude if you're gonna show it at all. Repeat yourself for me."
And you so confidently do. "Said I'm not going anywhere."
Toji sighs. He doesn't know what's gotten into you, but he definitely knows the solution.
"Alright, we're doing this. Cool," he mutters, sitting down on the bed and positioning himself so that his back is against the headboard. "Come here," he commands, patting his thigh twice. "Sit on my lap." He stares you down, patience clearly worn, when you just lie there, unmoving. "Don't overcomplicate this. I'm giving you a chance to redeem yourself."
You know better than to test him, so you get up and make your way over. You turn your back to him and plant yourself on his lap, per request.
"What?" You question, initiating the conversation when you realize nothing is being said. You're both just sitting there in silence.
"That's what I wanna know. What? Why are you being like this?" Toji asks. His hands move onto your soft outer thighs and slowly travel to the tops of them. He pushes up the hem of your oversized shirt to feel up more of the soft plush. "You're normally all sweet with me, but right now you're on a roll with the brattiness." His lips press to your bare shoulder, the area exposed by the bagginess of your shirt. "Just trying to piece things together here, baby."
"I just..." you pause, collecting your thoughts. Nothing seems good enough as a response. Yeah, he woke you up, but it is almost two in the afternoon. He did it within reason, but also you don't have to go to work, so sleeping for longer is also reasonable. You just didn't think before you got all snippy with him.
"Hm?"
The soft sound should not make you feel as nervous as it does, but the combination of his hands rubbing your thighs and the way he rests his chin on your shoulder to look at you just spikes your awareness.
"You don't have a reason, do you?" Toji murmurs, when you stop buffering and indulge in that silence you were so against just a minute ago.
You feel like you're in trouble, so instead of responding and digging yourself into a deeper hole, you just sit there and make your peace with what you did on your own.
"So, this is what it takes for you to behave," he murmurs, noticing the way you're sitting pretty on his lap, not a peep coming from you. One of his hands rides higher up your leg, meeting your hip before going beneath your shirt and caressing your tummy. "Noted."
You feel like you could go back to sleep in an instant. He has you all comfortable, doing those soothing motions that normally help you relax and doze off.
"How 'bout this, pretty baby..." Toji starts. "We go out to eat, like I had initially said we would, and then when we come back, we work on you being nice to me, again."
"Mhm," you hum quietly, resting your head against his shoulder and crossing your arms to keep yourself warm.
"Hey," he calls, poking your tummy. "You're really trying to fall asleep on me?"
"Blame yourself. You know what you're doing when you touch me like that."
He hums in response, already knowing what to do to ensure that you wake up. It might make you even more sassy towards him, but he'll deal with that if and when the time comes. Without another second wasted, he wraps his arms around your waist, and squeeeezes tightly. Not with all of his strength because he might actually break you, but enough so that you're pawing at his forearms for relief.
"To-ji! T-Toji, please," you squeak out, elongated groans of pain sounding out.
"Are you gonna wake up?" He asks, still not releasing you.
"I will, I will, I will!" You blurt, your voice strained. "Please," you gasp. You swear your soul is in your face, waving goodbye to you.
"Alright. I'm trusting you, doll. Letting go now," he narrates, loosening his arms around you. "Now, wake up."
"Ugh, I feel sluggish now," you whine, lying back on him, trying to regain your strength after having almost all of it squeezed out of you.
"Uh-uh. You feel sluggish because you haven't eaten and it's almost two in the afternoon."
"But, Toji, you crushed me," you argue.
"I was literally just holding you," he counters, snickering when you turn your head to face him with that tired, grumpy look on your face.
"Are you gaslighting me, right now?" You ask, your tone incredulous. "Because I'm pretty sure you would have squeezed the life out of me had I not reacted."
"Me? Gaslighting? Pshh, I don't even know what that is. I do know what lunch is, though. You know what lunch is? I think we should go grab some. Come on," he prompts, giving one of your thighs a couple pats and the other one a squeeze.
You huff and crawl off his lap, more awake now. "I'm not gonna look like your girlfriend, today," you grumble, as you walk to your closet.
"Yeah? What are you gonna look like, then?" He asks, grinning amusedly as he watches you grab a bra and a pair of underwear, then a t-shirt and some sweatpants out of your dresser.
"Like a lump," you grumble, before walking off to the bathroom.
That grumpy mindset of yours went out the window as soon as you and Toji started chowing down. You reverted back to the aforementioned sweet thing he said you usually are for him, throwing contended smiles at his face from where you sat across the table. You even went as far as to trade bites of your food for bites of his food. Toji wasn't even the slightest bit surprised when your mood skyrocketed after getting some sun and some food in your belly.
After lunch, you were pulling him along with you everywhere, hand in hand—his idea—because he claimed that you kept wandering off without him and eventually he got tired of losing you.
zayne peppers ur cheeks with kisses while whispering “i know, im sorry.” as he slides himself inside you. your face is scrunched in pain from the stretch, but it also feels so good you don’t want him to stop. “deep breaths,” he whispers, heart beating out of his chest as ur cunt twitches and squeezes around him.
and when u wrap ur arms around his neck and pull him closer, he smiles into the crook of your neck, loving that you need him, that u want him. pressing a kiss to ur overheated skin he says, “i’m almost in, you’re doing so well.” while snaking a hand between ur bodies to rub ur clit and help you through it
Kento loves adoring you in the morning when you're still asleep in his embrace. He would slowly run his hands up and down your arms and whisper sweet nothings to you. “Is this the nightdress I got you? It looks beautiful on you.” And you reply in a half asleep state, eyes still closed.
And if you turn to the other side, your back against his bare chest, he would slip his arms around your waist and almost squish you. Face nuzzled between your neck and shoulder, inhaling your scent. Since your body is really soft, Kento loves squishing you. He would give your belly a gentle squeeze which would stir you from your sleep, but won't be enough to wake you up.
He would hold your hand in his and compare the size. Will press soft kisses on your neck and cheek and even your nose. Strong buff arms wrapped around your small body, pulling you against him, to keep you like this for as long as he can. Legs tangled with his. Hands gently stroking your hair.
“my love,” nanami calls, stepping into the living room with wrinkled pjs and damp hair. you’re laying on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through one of your various shopping apps— spring sales have you adding everything to your cart.
“yes?” you reply, craning your neck to meet his gaze. he lifts your legs, sitting where they were resting before lowering them back down, in his lap. he smells like water and clean laundry— it’s familiar and comforting.
warm hands rest on your calves, you put your phone down to give him your full attention.
“you have my debit card on your phone and wallet,” he starts, “you know that, right?”
you nod slowly, giving him a confused look. “i know.”
“you haven’t used it at all. i just checked my statement.” he says, “didn’t i tell you to buy whatever you want?”
“you did,” you smile, almost laughing at the situation. “and i’m grateful, always, that you offer to pay for my things, but i have my own money too, ken— also! i did use it, actually.”
he rolls his eyes, not malicious, of course. “yeah, for boba. twice. do you know how many shopping bags you’ve hauled into this house the past month?”
he’s being sarcastic and you laugh. this has always been something you guys quarrel about, kento giving you all his money and assets, immediately throwing his card whenever you mention something you like. “why do you want me to spend your money so bad?”
kento pouts, just slightly, it’s barely even noticeable.
“i’m grateful, baby,” you say, “but you already pay for so much— this house, my car insurance, the bills and date nights… i’m already spending quite a lot, no?”
“you can spend more,” he pouts, “what i pay for already is nothing— i want to buy you more, for you to have everything you want.”
“i already have everything i want,” you tease, “he’s actually sitting in front of me, kindly massaging my calves.”
he narrows his gaze, a smile twitching onto his lips.
“we’re going to the mall this weekend— the far one,” he decides, “we haven’t been to the mall together for a while, love. i wonder why is that?”
you hum, avoiding his gaze, “maybe because the last time we went, you secretly took my wallet out of my purse and hid it in your underwear drawer so you could pay for everything?”
he laughs, recalling the moment. “i am absolutely doing that again— also, i saw that app you were scrolling on, let me see what you have, i’ll get it for you.”
notes from mei! i do have a shopping addiction actually (im dirt poor rn and in withdrawal) but i see my future (this fic) and its so so bright
with toji you know it’s not his first kiss. he’s experienced, he’s probably kissed so many people before you. it’s all that is swirling in your head as you climb into his lap where he motioned for you to go just seconds ago, staring at him wide-eyed with your heart feeling like it’s gonna explode out of your chest.
once you’re situated, straddling his thighs, your knees digging into the couch beneath you, your arms around his neck, he places his big hands on your hips, thumbs rubbing comforting circles into your skin.
“you nervous?” he asks and your eyes dart, as you feel your face heat up.
“yes,” you reply and toji rasps out a chuckle, deep and fond, all adoration and sparkle.
“me too,” he replies and your heart stutters slightly as he grabs your chin and presses your lips together for a short while. your eyes flutter closed and you’re simply dazed when he pulls away, blinking at him like an owl.
“nothing to be scared of, baby, it’s just me,”
then he kisses you again. and again, and again, and again. short, chaste kisses to your lips, barely letting you feel the scar you like so much. and then he kisses your cheek, and your nose, and your chin, and your forehead until you whine, tugging on his shirt in an attempt to get closer.
“don’t tease me,” you huff, aiming at his lips, but he easily dodges, making you kiss his jaw instead. and you scoff, grabbing his face with your hands, cupping his cheeks and pressing your lips together.
this time he deepens the kiss, moving his lips against yours, and you follow along clumsily, trying your best to keep up.
“my pretty baby,” he murmurs against your lips, swallowing your little gasps and sighs.
you feel hot. toji is warm and big and by now rugged hands have gone from playing with the hem of your shirt to pressing against your bare skin, trailing up your back, holding you closer as if that’s somehow possible.
and when you pull away, trying to catch your breath, he follows for a second, before you giggle, your hands threading through his hair and tugging him away.
toji smiles. his lips are kiss-bitten and you bet yours are too. it’s hard to tell how much time has passed, and you feel shy all of a sudden, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, pressing little kisses there.
you think it's sweet, how he has the date of big events in his life on memory. when it's a loss, he'll take the day off to remember, with his head in your lap as he tells stories of whomever has passed. you listen intently, ask questions about them and watch as your husband recounts every good thing about a person.
he celebrates the good, too. almost excessively. the date you met is circled on the calendar, and kento will wake you up with breakfast in bed and a day of doting to show you just how important this anniversary is to him. you turned his world upside down in the best of ways, and what kind of man is he if not one to celebrate the light in his life?
of course, your wedding anniversary too. it's the one he goes all out for: more often than not you put a weekend aside to take a trip and spend some uninterrupted time together. you'll act as newlyweds again, because you still feel like newlyweds despite the passing years, and you'll be reminded over and over just how lucky you are to have found your soulmate in a man like kento nanami.
a man who is sentimental, and so very in love with you. and also celebrates the first time you had sex.
that first year, he had spent the day doting on you so profusely that you were convinced he was going to propose. he was pulling out all of the stops, taking you out fopr an expensive meal, dosing you with fine wines and so many kisses you could get drunk off the taste of him alone. he took you home, ran you a scented bath and took care of the house while you relaxed.
and of course the night ended in mind blowing sex—as your nights usually do. he had insisted on fucking you in missionary despite his recent penchant for taking you from behind and, once he has ripped two orgasms from you and was working on your third, he let it slip.
“we made love for the first time a year ago today,” he whispers against your lips, cock pulsing inside of you as he reaches deep inside of you. “just like this—looking into each others eyes, three orgasms from you, two from me. fell in love with you that night, do you know that honey?”
“you kept track of the day?” you cant finish your sentence without a moan breaking from your throat. “kento, you’re something else.”
“of course i did. it’s an important date, reaching such intimacies—feeling these beautiful velvet walls of yours for the first time… i’ll never forget it.”
you laugh, though it’s quickly swallowed by a kiss from your lover. he rocks his hips into you, feels every inch of his veiny cock disappear inside. he looks down to watch himself sink into you, though his gaze his brought back when you speak.
“three.”
kento blinks. “three what?”
“orgasms from you. you said you had two, but you came a third time right at the end—i milked you dry and you were so sex-drunk and exhausted but you insisted on making me food.” you reach down and grab his hand, the one that had been cupping at your chest, and hold it up for him to see the gentle scar that runs across his thumb. “you cut yourself slicing the bread because i fucked you mindless.”
it comes back to him in gentle flashes. you had, in fact, milked him of a third release. he had just been so out of his mind with nerves and pleasure that the memory had washed itself clean from his mind. he scolds himself mentally for ever daring to forget a detail about being intimate with you, but smiles.
“i remember,” he says. “you told me sex made you hungry so i wanted to incorporate it into your aftercare…”
“silly man,” you wrap your legs around his waist and lick your ankles behind him. with a gentle nudge, he’s forced that tiny bit deeper inside of you. “my silly man.”
kento moans—his eyes flutter shut and his lips catch between his teeth. he adores you—he really does. so much so that the sheer memory of his first time with you is quickly becoming too powerful of a memory to have.
and you, his beautiful other half, laid beneath him with lustful eyes and parted lips, smile up at him. “are we recreating our first time, ken? is that what this is?”
he nods, a little wordless as he tries to keep his mind straight.
“then i think you know what i’m going to do to you, my love.”
he smiles. “milk me for all i have. it’s all yours anyways.”
you lean up and kiss him. it’s slow, gentle, like your first kiss with him was. you taste him wholly on your lips and thank all the divine beings that may exist for putting such a man in your life’s trajectory. his cock twitches inside of you, he fills you out so perfectly.
still, you smile as you roll your hips up to meet his. “just let me handle the aftercare this time.”
The funny thing about toji is that if you can’t stay quiet, he’ll make you stay quiet.
his line of work comes with an innate knowledge of the human body. every vein, every artery, every ligament, is just another chess piece to map out in his mind. if you can’t keep it down when he’s pummeling his dick into you from behind, no problem, because he’s pressing down on a special little spot right under your windpipe before you can apologize for being too loud, rendering you silent with a low growl.
it’s so hot. so devastatingly hot how calculated he is and how intimately he knows your body. soon enough, a rough hand reaches down to lock your arms behind your body, your only balance being your two feet that were currently tip-toed to accommodate for his towering height.
the thing you’re most in awe of is the fact that you can breathe completely fine. your vision doesn’t have those little black spots you usually get when he chokes you. it’s not breathe play, just a little trick he picked up from hunting people down in broad daylight as a 9 to 5.
you want to moan, scream, whimper, whatever you can do to let him know you’re feeling good. but toji knows. he knows how good he’s giving it to you and that’s exactly why you can’t afford to get caught. you’re 16 floors up in your office building, stuffed into a maintenance closet with nothing in to grab onto but the taught muscular flesh of his forearm as he uses your restrained arms for purchase, pulling you onto his cock with one hand while the other catches any semblance of noise trying to escape from you.
He’s stopping your whimpers at the source with just the press of two fingers, sending them right back down to your lungs where they wait to be let out again.
“Yeah? Feels that good?” He whispers, chuckling fondly when all you can do is nod. It’s more of a rhetorical, he knows how good it feels just from how hard you’re sucking him in.
You don’t even realize how close you are to your orgasm until your arms are released and two calloused fingers move to rub your clit in soft circles, sending you both over the edge in mere seconds.
You let it all go, slumping back against the rock wall that is his chest and thanking the stars above that no one can hear you as you cum all over his cock.
Except, Toji’s hand isn’t on your throat anymore. It’s resting under your ribcage, holding you up as your jelly legs struggle to accommodate your weight. You’re moaning and loud at that, unable to stop yourself without the added help from his grip on your neck.
You never thought you’d say this, but your beyond grateful for the massive warm hand that slaps over your mouth, cutting your sounds of pleasure off and rendering you silent once again.
“Aw c’mon, what’d i tell you about being quiet?” He teases.
unfortunately, i do think choso is into dacryphilia but the worst thing is he doesn’t even realise. he just really likes when he hits that spot while he’s fucking you nice and deep and your eyes get all glossy while your breath hitches.
and then he just keeps going, abusing your sweet spot while caging you in with an arm on each side of your head, practically cooing as hot tears begin running down your cheeks. you claw at his arms while you whimper, though the sight of you so vulnerable underneath him only makes him more turned on.
and if anything it all just makes him fuck you harder, meaner, in such a stark contrast to the way he’s murmuring sweet words of praise and adoration into your mouth, messily clashing his lips against yours.
he ends up fucking you both into overstimulation, tears of pleasure brimming in his own eyes meanwhile your limbs are goo and your throat is hoarse and all you can focus on is your initials dangling from a silver chain around his neck with each harsh thrust of his hips against yours.
★ thinking about nanami who is the type of husband to buy you two wedding rings — one for your finger and one to hang on the end of a necklace purely so that he can watch it bounce between the valley of your breasts whenever he fucks you in missionary.
there’s just something so deeply satisfying about seeing you flushed and panting underneath him, stripped completely bare except for the jewellery he gave you at the altar adorning your soft, beautiful body.
and it never fails to make him go absolutely feral when he sees you reach up with a trembling hand to hold onto the ring around your neck while he fucks you, stopping the necklace from flying all over the place as a result of the sheer force behind each of his thrusts.
so in the blink of an eye he has both your wrists pinned to the mattress above your head with the grip of just one of his big hands, sweaty forehead meeting yours as he grunts out a raspy “don’t hide it, sweetheart. i always want to be able to see that pretty ring while i’m making love to you.”
and when he cums, he doesn’t do it inside you — because as much as he’d like to fill you up and watch his sticky mess trickle out of your puffy pussy like he usually would, he just can’t resist the urge to pull out at the very last moment and finish all over your chest instead, despite your adorable little whines of protest.
because the sight of the large diamond wedding ring hanging from your neck being splattered with his goopy white seed makes for a downright sinful portrait showcasing just how much you belong to him, and he loves it more than he would ever care to admit out loud.
so while you’re busy drifting off into a sated slumber, nanami quietly captures a photo of the lewd visual before him, saving it to the only folder he has, which is aptly named ‘my sweet wife’.
// voyēurısm // double penētratıōn //
private investigator duo! toji and shiu who are surprised when they see the amount wired to their bank account just to watch a tiny thing like you. both of them are a great team, paid by people of questionable backgrounds just to dig deep. of course, they are a little skeptical when they are paid greatly to spy on you. the girlfriend of the richest industrialist in the city. they've dealt with cases of infidelity before but nothing that involved someone as innocent looking as you.
they both spend the next two weeks in shiu's sleek car, retro yet sensual the way smoke pours out the rolled down windows, watching you frolick to your apartment. they find it difficult to believe you, dressed in soft pastel sweaters and thigh high socks is capable of deception. you are nothing but candy cane and fluffy clouds, mind lost in daydreaming when they watch you through the apartment window. toji can't help but adjust himself every time you wear a skirt too short and shiu despite his disgusted groans directed towards toji, would kill to see you on his bed. if they are lucky enough, they catch glimpses of you changing, feeding into the delusions of the voyeuristic duo.
both of them were ready to close the case declaring you innocent to your much older boyfriend. they hadn't seen anyone visit you except for your pretty friends. on the very last day when they were ready to wrap it up, they hear the softest knocking on the tinted windows of the car. toji reluctantly rolls down the window just to be met with the sight you, forcing your head through the window, your low cut top doing nothing but accentuate your tits to the grown men sitting on the faux leather.
"hey boys, did that old hag send you ?" you drawl out with a giggle, no longer they could see the innocence. fuck, they were played. both of them chuckle at you, eyes raking over your ample breasts so close yet so far. shiu wanted to lean over and sink his teeth into your supple skin, gripping the steering wheel instead. toji, unashamed as always, waits zero time to pull you into the car in the middle of the night throwing you in the backseat.
it takes both of them even lesser time to crowd you against the leather seat, watching you squirm under their hooded eyes. you can feel their heavy breath on you, shiu pulling your shirt down to expose your tits to the cold air. they pull of your clothes, hastily pulling down their pants when you palm their bulge moaning loudly. despite how cramped the back is, it doesnt stop them filling your tight holes. pussy pushed beyond its limits around shiu's cock, you moan around toji's length, eyes rolled behind your eyes. toji helps shiu work your tight asshole open to, ready to fill you up in ways your boyfriend never could.
private investigator duo toji and shiu who report back to your boyfriend requesting for a few more weeks of surveillance just to make sure you were being a good little girl.
