#black anime writer | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thecoochiefairy · 7 months ago

Text

𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖈𝖔𝖔𝖈𝖍𝖎𝖊𝖋𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖞

━━ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚𝑐𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑜𝑛 .ᐟ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚

warnings 𑄽𑄺 18K word count. toji zenin, biker!toji plug!toji, kinda/sorta! third person omniscient pov, black woman, vaginal penetration, a lil bit of angry/rough sex, lil bit of sweet talkin’, hair pulling, squirting, creaming, oral [f] [m], choking, praising, LOTS of dirty talk, condomless sex, overstimulation, edging maybe? kissing, spanking, aggressive toji, lil bit of sweet toji, megumi as a baby, toji as a daddy hehe, minors aren’t welcome!

song to play while listening; 𝑒𝑥𝑐𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡 ; 𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑝𝑝𝑖𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑑 & 𝑃𝐴𝑅𝑇𝑌𝑁𝐸𝑋𝑇𝐷𝑂𝑂𝑅

━━ 𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ now look, i already said this was finna be a long ride, okay. so just enjoy. visuals for fem-character in this fic—✰ ✰ ✰ she listens to brent faiyaz ✰ ✰ ✰ —visuals for toji/vibes for this fic will be @ the bottom, so scroll down before you start! no words, just cuteness, hotness, + my man my man my man! flying away! 🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧

SPIDER-MAN DOODLED WITHIN THE CORNER OF THE PAPER IS WHAT DRAWS HER ATTENTION, immediately recognizing what student it belongs to. She can’t help the small smile that comes along her face as she brings her eyes up to search for him, seeing as his nose is shoved closer to his journal than the actual coloring pencil.

She adored being a Pre-K teacher. Being able to influence the mind of children growing into their own people made her feel like a superhero—It was their giggles, their constant questions, their curiosity. A happiness that no one could replace. But her favorite student in particular was Megumi.

His dark hair that sprawled all around his head, doe-like gray eyes that beamed when something took his interest. He’d always been more quiet, not as interactive with other students, barely joining in during activities or even recess.

He stuck to her like glue, even when he didn’t have anything to say. His nose was within his Spider-Man booklet, drawing pictures with his left hand—she’d be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy the child’s company.

She stood from her desk, passing by her other students that were in different stations within the classroom, coming to the ‘art station,’ as she kneeled down to the table next to Megumi who continued to draw.

“Hey, sweetheart,” she calls softly, “You okay?” Her eyes drift between him and one of her other students within this station, a little girl with pigtails, toffee skin shining under the classroom lights.

“Did you see what Anabel drew?” She asks.

Megumi looked up at her with a small nod, his dark bangs sticking out a little. He glanced at the girl and gave her a kind smile before looking back down to the table. He looked a little tired, but his large eyes were as observant as ever.

"It is very pretty," he mumbled in his timid voice. His small hands still continued to shade in the page he had started, filling in his favorite hero’s color scheme.

She blows out a breath, wishing he had a little more to say as she prods, “It is,” she agrees, looking at Anabel who was extremely talkative, “Hey, Bel’s, did you see Megumi’s picture? He’s really good at drawing.”

Anabel nodded excitedly, her pigtails bouncing. She was a bundle of energy compared to the quiet Megumi, her bubbly personality on full display.

“Mhmm!” she chimed with a giggle, her eyes landing on Megumi’s page as she leaned over, her small hands gripping the side of the table as she gasps, “That’s a pretty picture! Did you draw it all by yourself?”

Megumi’s gaze slowly turned from his page to the girl. Despite his shy nature, she hadn’t seemed pushy like most children often were. He slowly nodded, his eyes meeting hers as she leaned closer to look.

“Yes.. I did it all by myself…” his soft voice mumbled quietly. He was often proud of his drawings, it was his favorite thing to do.

His teacher’s eyes almost brightened. She then tries a different tactic, “How about you show Anabel the drawing of Spider-girl you made? Or maybe, you can make her one?”

The boy’s attention moved back to his picture with a thoughtful expression. He seemed to ponder over the teacher's words, debating on the idea. After a moment of hesitation, he looked up to Anabel, who seemed excited.

“…I can show her my other picture…” he nods his head, going into his desk as he says, “I can make you another Spider-girl one, okay? This one is for my dad,” he tells Anabel, pressing the paper to his chest with his small fingers.

Speaking of the bastard, this was the one person that she didn’t have the opportunity to tell about how amazing Megumi was—his father.

She had been trying to contact Megumi’s father since he’d begun school, his nanny being the person that dropped him off on the first day. When she asked the nanny if there was any particular reason why he never showed up, she shrugged, as if she didn’t have an answer either.

‘He’s a busy man,’ she’d tell her. She didn’t think it was her business to pry, but when she concluded that the reason why Megumi clung to her—even if she didn’t want to admit it to herself— that this need for attention was lacking at home. She proclaimed that whenever his father decided to make his grand entrance by meeting the person Megumi was around more than his nanny, she’d give him a piece of her mind. She just didn’t know that day would be today.

“Thank you, you’re sweet,” she compliments, ruffling his hair. She sees as that makes his cheeks go russet, sliding his picture over to his classmate. As she stands, she looks up to see her co worker coming in to do her usual act of bothering her—which she didn’t mind, she was her friend— a smile upon her face as she sung playfully, “Heyyy Ms. Honey.”

She sighs, giving a soft laugh with a roll to her eyes at the playful call of her last name. She knew there would always be a never-ending joke anytime someone greeted her, always giving a rendition of, ‘Because she’s so sweet,’ waving as she replied, “Hey, Ms. Em.”

“I love your classroom, your kids are like the ultimate palate cleanser,” Ms. Em sighs, “Ready to get out of here?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Ms. Honey exhales, “Did you ever find out what time your class was going to that anti-bullying program?”

“Of course I did, who you’ think I am? Someone who doesn’t do their job?” She chuckled a little before letting out a slightly exaggerated sigh, “Although, I must say, that event is gonna be such a bore…”

“Extremely,” Ms. Honey mutters, looking over her desk for her pen, never noticing as Ms. Em is grinning at the scene behind her.

Ms. Em turns towards her co-worker as she asks, “Is that Megumi…making friends?” She whispers.

She sighs in return, “Trying to. I asked him to show Anabel his drawing, I thought he was gonna faint.”

Ms. Em chuckled at her words, her hands landing on her hips with a slight laugh, “He’s so shy, what a cutie.”

“I just wish he wouldn’t be so afraid to make friends. Everyone in class always wants to talk to him, he’s sweet irregardless. And his drawings, it’s nothing I’ve seen come from a four year old. They’re amazing,” she crosses her arms, “You’d think he’d want the entertainment, he’s an only child. I’m sure that becomes lonely.”

“Speaking of home, any updates on daddy-day -care?” she grins, seeing as Ms. Honey immediately became irritated.

“Girl, don’t make me laugh. I have to go through an interview just to have the nanny tell me he can’t talk. I’ve never spoken to the man directly. And she acts like she’s terrified of him, so I don’t know what to do.”

“Damn, this guy is so busy that he can’t even give you a call or email himself?”

“Not even a letter from a bird,” Ms. Honey retorts, “I asked if he was some CEO with this unattainable free time, the nanny said she only sees him when it’s close to Megumi’s bed time. She doesn’t know what he does for work, she just knows it’s something…illegal,” she whispered the last part.

“Mafia-daddy or assassin, hot,” Ms. Em playfully whispers in return.

The more she explained the situation, the more irritated she felt herself becoming as she thought about it. She truly didn’t feel like it was her place to have anything to say about his fathers job or even the slight abandonment to his child, but as it affected him on a daily basis—and the bastard seemed like a bastard— she cared about Megumi more than a way that a teacher cared about her student, it was a motherly nature that she had for him.

“But seriously, you’re kidding me, right?” Ms. Em raises her eyebrows, “He has to be a business tycoon or something, there’s no way that the time he does have for his kid is almost charitable.”

Ms. Honey shrugs, “Let’s hope for my sake I’ll eventually run into him. Or over him, whichever one I’m successful at first.”

“I’d like to be a fly stuck to the front of that car.”

Ms. Honey laughs, “I’d like to be the one driving the car.”

“That too.”

She feels her stress lightly release from her shoulders as her co-worker makes her feel better. As they both laugh amongst each other, their attention is suddenly taken away to the front of the class, a masculine cologne hitting their nose before the figure meets their eyes. Ms. Honey could’ve choked on her spit.

The silhouette within the doorframe nearly reaches the ceiling. He was… terrifying. It was in all the ways that sent shivers down her spine, also sending throbs in between her thighs. The scar jagged across his lips told her everything she needed to know. Onyx hair, steel gray eyes that had a familiarity she couldn’t pinpoint. Olive toned skin and baby pink lips, her eyes falling to a dark inked skull along the side of his neck, making her nearly want to faint at the sight. His broad shoulders were camouflaged by a sable shirt, tight along his hard torso that almost pulled inwards—that’s just how sculpted he was. More ink scattered along his large arms, dark jeans and hefty boots along his feet. He dropped the motorbike helmet he had within his veined covered palm along the desk by the door, stoic face searching for something, or someone within the room.

She takes a moment to breathe as she hears Ms. Em whisper, “Who in the hell is that?”

“I…don’t know,” Ms. Honey mutters back, still stunned.

He was a sight for sore eyes. As she looked at him, she immediately thought to herself, ’goddamn.’ Jawline as sharp as a knife, body nearly straining against his shirt—just an overall ominous aura, this man was a demon in the flesh. She knew she was staring.

“Uh—I’ll be right back,” Ms. Honey mutters, beginning to make her way over to him.

She didn’t recognize this to be one of her students' parents. As she goes to introduce herself, this time, his eyes are the ones studying her. Her strawberry red hair is pulled into a ponytail that swishes along her mid back, edges perfectly sculpted along her forehead, the rich red contrasting her caramel skin, freckles spruced along her face, nose and lips. Similar to him, she has a large rose blooming within the side of her neck, something he wouldn’t expect for a teacher to have. Her double golden nose rings shine within the light, baby pink long sleeve clinging to her body in a way that should’ve been inappropriate but was only at fault for her genetics—large hips and ass that she could only thank her mother for— blood red skirt flowing down to the floor with white sandals along her feet, orchids clipped to the top of them.

She comes up to him, nervously pulling at her ponytail as she greets, “Good afternoon,” giving a polite smile, straight teeth shining under her brown-lined lips, “I don’t think you have the right classroom, what teacher are you looking for?”

The man’s eyes never wavered from her form as she approached. He was taking in every little detail. How her red hair framed her face, the gold on her nose, how her shirt and skirt clung to her body, her scent, he felt like a dog in heat, wanting to howl as her aroma of cinnamon and vanilla choked up his windpipe. His gaze slowly went down to look at her hips and ass, his expression unreadable, before going back up to her face. He noticed her nervous habit of pulling on her ponytail, as well as the nervous tug on her skirt. She was sexy.

“Nah,” his voice had a rasp, deep baritone crawling to her spine as he replied, “I’m in the right place. You’re Ms. Honey, aren’t you?”

Her eyebrows raise up, “Me? I am. I just— I’m sorry, I don’t recognize you to be one of my students' parents,” she places her hands behind her back, his eyes dropping down to her physique, eyebrow twitching. This definitely wasn’t the time to think about how erotically attractive this man was.

“I’m Megumi’s father, Toji Zenin.”

As it hit her, she muttered, “Oh shit,” fixing her posture as she turned towards her co-worker, “Ms. Em, do you mind getting some of the kids started with dismissal?”

Ms. Em was caught off guard, not expecting to be roped into this situation. She looked between Ms. Honey and the mysterious man with a slightly surprised expression, nodding to her before turning to the children and saying in a convincing tone, “Okay cuties, let’s put away your supplies and go get ready for dismissal, okay?”

She turned back towards the man, “You’re…Megumi’s father…” to which he drops his eyes along her face and replies, “That’s what I just said.”

“Uh—it’s nice to finally meet you!” she takes a deep breath as she gives him another kind smile, placing her hand out.

It feels like an eternity as a hand never comes out to shake hers, her eye almost wants to twitch. Toji looked at her outstretched hand, an unamused expression on his face.

“Yeah,” he grunted.

He stayed leaning against the wall, broad frame nearly bending the doors hinges, his arms still crossed, looking down at her as he stated, “You’re the one with the ‘concerns’ about how I’m raising my fuckin’ kid.”

Okay, so he wasn’t the type to be passive aggressive. Just aggressive-aggresive. She places her tongue on her cheek, raising an eyebrow as she laughs awkwardly in response, “That I am. I’ve been wanting to speak to you for a while, you’re very good at ignoring someone. Now that you’re here, I’d like a sliver of your precious time?”

His jaw clenched as she spoke sarcastically, his eyes narrowing at her tone, “Speak then.”

She wanted to smack him upside the head right then and there. But she kept her composure, looking back to Megumi who giggled absentmindedly with Anabel, wishing she’d been anywhere else but this conversation.

She turned back towards him as she spoke, “Well, Megumi is a really good kid. He’s sweet, polite, and respectful—not sure who I have to thank for that—“ she throws shade, “But the only minor problem I do have out of him is his participation and social skills with other students. He has an issue making friends, and the only thing that keeps his interest is his school work and drawing.”

“You’re upset because the kid isn’t some damn social butterfly like the rest of your class?”

Her eyes squint at him as she pensively disagrees, “No. If you’d let me finish, he draws a lot. It’s essentially his passion. When I ask him what he’s drawing about, or who he’s drawing for, he says it’s for his father. He seems to be seeking your approval, Mr. Zenin. Not that it’s my place to tell you how to be a better father, but I’d give notion that if you were more of a participant in your child’s life, his social skills would bloom just like a social butterfly,” she tilts her head, gritting her teeth to keep from cussing him out.

His large arms go over his chest, a humorless laugh coming from his full lips as he asks, “You got’ kids?”

“No sir, I don’t,” she replied, a shift in her face at the question, yet she remains stoic.

“Then who in the fuck are you to tell me about how to raise mine?”

As she goes to reply, he cuts her off, “ You must be some dumbass, naive idealist who thinks everyone can be a perfect parent with enough love.”

“What I am is somebody telling you to watch your mouth around my students. Quickly,” she raises an eyebrow, voice going lower, “But I absolutely think with enough love and attention to your son, we wouldn’t be having this conversation in the first place, Mr. Zenin.”

He grits his teeth for a moment to hold back a nasty reply, “I don’t need some gentle parenting bullshit spout about how to raise my own son,” he then remembers her threat, “Shut me the fuck up if you’re gonna threaten me. Know I’m not one of those other parents you’re used to—I’m your worst damn nightmare.”

She pulled her face back, raising an eyebrow. Was this motherfucker trying to scare her? Who in the goddamn hell was he talking to?

All of her professionalism went out the window as she sneered, “Come find me in my sleep, then. Nobody’s telling you to do anything. But I’d appreciate the effort of at least faking as if you’re committed to having a goddamn child, rather than clocking out when you don’t feel like being a father.”

“Maybe I ain’t one of those fathers that bakes sugar cookies with my kid and reads him a bedtime story, Ms. Honey, but I’m present. I don’t need your fuckin’ advice.”

“Then double it and pass it to the next person, Mr. Zenin. I literally don’t give a fuck—“

“Ms. Honey, can I take this book home with me?” A sweet voice calls from below, her attention being pulled away by one of her other students. It hits reality that she’s still at work, still standing within her classroom.

She was thankful that her students hadn’t heard this back and forth, but she could see Ms. Em felt the fire coming off of both of them.

She pressed her hand along the child’s cheek, “Yeah, of course, baby boy,” she replied to her student, Oliver, tan skin and bright green eyes giggling excitedly at her, “ Go ‘head.”

When she faces the man again, she realizes that she’d made a damn fool of herself, allowing this man to rile her up in a way that she never was with a student's parent.

She takes a deep breath as she leaves him with, “I’ll go get Megumi.”

Toji’s anger had simmered at the interruption. Even he wasn’t heartless enough to continue the argument with a child present. He watched as she went and spoke to her other students in her softest voice, almost admiring the way her face changed as she interacted gently. It nearly made him forget how fucking irritating her adamance was.

As she comes over to Megumi, she squats back down as she sighs, “Hey, handsome. Look who’s here,” she speaks softly to him, running his hair out of his face with a soft smile.

Megumi looked up from his drawing, his face lighting up slightly when he saw his father. He was surprised that he was the one to pick him up, but he felt happy to see him.

He set down his crayon and immediately started to pack up his things, almost saying to hell with his backpack as he ran towards his father, Toji grunting with a soft chuckle as he caught him within his arms. The man’s entire physique softened as Megumi acknowledged him.

“You wanna leave some of your snacks here for recess tomorrow?” She asks him, happy at how elated he was to see his father. She was glad it wasn’t another response, otherwise she would’ve actually crashed out on this man.

Megumi thought for a moment before smiling and nodded gently in agreement. Her words reminded him that he did forget his snacks at his desk, but if he was to take them home now, he would eat them all before morning came.

He looked up at his father, who was still holding him and he pointed over to the desk. “Can I grab my snacks…?” he asked in a shy voice.

“Go ‘head,” he replies even softer than Megumi asked, running his hands over his hair as he pressed a kiss to his child’s forehead, letting him run back over to his chair.

Megumi grabs his snacks from the table as he begins to take them to the classroom fridge, placing them where his name is taped on the shelf. Ms. Honey was now intentionally avoiding her gaze along Toji, taking a breath as she clasps her palms together, “I didn’t hear the clean-up song while Ms. Em instructed dismissal time!” causing the entire class to recite the tune they’d come up with, packing up their last bit of things into their backpacks.

She hadn’t noticed as Toji’s eyes dropped down to her ass, never in doubt of this woman’s attractiveness irregardless of their debacle. Maybe if he fucked that stick out of her ass, she wouldn’t have room for another one.

Once she makes sure he has all of his things together, she lets out a breath as she exhales, “Okay, Megumi—“ a shriek from her own mouth interrupting her sentence as he swiftly dropped his backpack, tightly wrapping his arms around her lower half.

She can’t help her small giggle, hugging him back as she speaks softly, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Meg. Promise I’m not gonna run away.”

Megumi smiled up at her as she hugged him back, enjoying her soft giggles as he clung onto her. He nodded and pulled away, reaching down to grab his backpack as he waved, “Bye-bye! See you tomorrow,” gripping his small hand within Toji’s larger one.

As she watched him grab Toji's hand, their entire argument recited in her head. The guilt immediately hit her chest, wishing it would’ve been more productive conversation. On the other hand, he was still an ass, and she didn’t necessarily feel like she wanted to apologize—yet.

She gave Toji one more glance before she turned her attention back to the class, leaving the conversation exactly where it was before as he and his son left the classroom. There was nothing to say.

Once the entire class cleared out, she could tell Ms. Em wanted to practically explode, holding her mouth up until the kids were gone.

“And uh, what the hell was that?!” she exclaims in a whisper-yell, her tone full of curiosity.

“Girl,” she sits along her desk, crossing her arms, “I almost killed that bastard. Did you hear our conversation?”

“I would’ve heard him swallow if I was listening any harder. Goddam, the tension in here felt like it was ready to explode. I was afraid a chair was going to catch fire or somethin’!”

“Funny,” Ms. Honey rolls her eyes, “I can’t believe him. Getting mad because you don’t spend time with your son?”

“The audacity to try and argue with you about his terrible parenting. And the damn gall to walk into this classroom and act as if you’re the one in the wrong!” she pauses for a moment, raising an eyebrow, “Although, you should’ve seen his face from my perspective. It was like he was trying not to smile or something, I swear,” she teased in a sly tone.

Ms. Honey twists her face, “I hope you’re not trying to insinuate something in that big ass head of yours. It doesn’t matter how hot he was, still doesn’t not make him a bastard, Em’.”

Ms. Em sighs, laying herself on her friends desk as she dreamily sighs, “Come onnnn, you can’t argue that the man wasn’t attractive as hell. That scar, those muscles, that height…” she trails off, looking back at Ms. Honey with a smirk, “Ugh, I could moan right now. And he rides a damn motorcycle? My cervix hurts. Maybe you should give him a chance. You might be able to get him to change his ways,” she presses her hands to her chest.

“What Disney song are you about to start singing?” Ms. Honey raises her eyes, her co-worker raising her middle finger to her as she retorts, “If you don’t want him, I’ll put his ass on a leash, quickly!”

“I’ll meet you at Pet-Smart to buy his food then.”

Ms. Em rolls her eyes, “You're getting bitchy. That’s my cue to exit stage left!” She begins walking out, dramatically swaying her hips, “I feen for a good enemy to lovers trope. Call me when you wanna go to Pet-Smart!”

Being left alone with the classroom allows her to let out a big exhale, wishing the conversation hadn’t gone so left. She was simmering on this thought as she sat at her desk going through her students homework, a FaceTime call interrupting her work. She sees the familiar picture of her best friend, answering as she continues looking at the papers, “Yes, Ezra?”

Ezra groans dramatically as his face appears on her screen, brown skin and emerald green hair appearing as he draws out her first name, “Ah—sigh—yelll, I’m boooooreeeed,” pouting like a child.

“Bored? Don’t you have that car show to go to later?” Asael looks over the camera, “Or have a little sneaky-link to…link with?”

Ezra rolls his eyes, “That last man was a lil’ hookup. He’s not really my type. Besides, I have a new toy to play with,” he responds slyly, letting out a sigh, “But, that’s actually what I called you for, the car show is tomorrow night—and you’re coming with me.”

Asael frowns to the camera, “Says who?”

“Me, that’s who. You haven’t been out in a hot minute, you just need to let loose and relax, maybe find a sexy biker to swipe your little abstinence card,” he replies with a small giggle, ignoring the glare she sends through the camera.

“It’s celibacy, smart one. And I just haven’t…found anyone that truly arouses me, I’d rather be in isolation than have meaningless sex,” she shrugs.

“Almost a year of no dick is insane. You have a strong sense of mind and body,” Ezra shakes his head.

“My dick doesn’t have a mouth to get on my nerves, and only complains when I need to change its batteries,” she shrugs, “But as far as your plans, I’m good on that. Not in the mood to watch a bunch of guys do donuts in a parking lot for hours.”

Ezra rolls his eyes at her words, letting out a scoff, “Come on, it’s not going to be just guys doing donuts. There’s going to be live music, food, hot guys, oh, and hot guys again! My man’s gonna be there with his lil’ fire ass retro car.”

She hadn’t done anything with her last couple of weekends but cuddled in the bed with her cat, grading papers and overworking herself until all she wanted to do was sleep. She figured that flirting with a couple of guys with nice cars wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, and maybe would be a great start to her weeknd.

She tilts her head, humming as she thinks over the proposal, “Mmm, food truck food, hot guys with hot cars. Doesn’t sound too bad now that I think about it.”

“See, I knew you’d agree with me in the end. Ezra’s always right!”

She sighs, “I need an outing after the day I just had,” she admits more to herself.

Ezra’s eyebrows shot up with curiosity, “Oh? And why is that? Was someone mean to my bestie? Whose feet do I need to tie bricks to and throw them in the nearest ocean?”

“Yes, actually!” She exclaims, “Remember my student Megumi? The one I always send you pictures of? Super cutie with bad social skills?”

“That sweet lil’ kid who looks like he could kill with a single look?”

“Yeah, well I met his father. After playing telephone with the nanny I finally got a hold of Ghostface, and he ripped my ass to shreds. Told me it wasn’t my business how he raised his son,” she briefly explains, not wanting to piss herself off all over again.

Ezra’s jaw practically hits the floor as he processes her words, “You’re lying, who the hell does he think he is? The goddamn pope?”

“Did I mention the bastard is the hottest fucker you’ve ever seen?” She adds on, seeing Ezra’s jaw drop down to the core of the earth, Asael nodding as she laughs humorlessly, “Yeah. It gets worse. Motherfucker could put a nun out of commission.”

“And he ate you up that bad?”

“Chewed me up and spit me out. He literally came in on ten! He was not playing with me. Although I snapped his ass right back up, I’m starting to feel like it wasn’t my business,” she sighs, “But you know how I feel about Megumi…I’m just afraid that the lack of attention will cause him to change.”

“Damn. Megumi’s a sweet kid. He doesn’t deserve to be neglected by his own father, no matter how hot the man is,” Ezra shakes his head.

“I feel bad. I want to apologize—but the bitch doesn’t even deserve that,” she leans along her chair, rubbing a hand over her hair as she groans, half covering her mouth as she quietly admits, “He had a fuckin’ neck tat, Ezra! I wanted to lick him,” She admits, hearing as Ezra laughs at that.

“Can’t believe you didn’t snap a picture with your eyes and mind transfer it to me. You don’t love me forreal,” he smacks his lips, “But seriously, if he comes back to pick him up tomorrow, just take off your huge ass prideful panties and apologize. If he starts tripping, I’ll pop up and pop his ass.”

“Are you tryna’ get me fired? Or arrested? Don’t be funny,” she frowns, “I’ll just apologize and hope he isn’t on some extra shit. But if I call you, just know you will get the opportunity to slash someone’s tires.”

“I’ve been waiting all my life for this moment,” Ezra fake-cries into the phone, “I can finally shine!”

Asael softly laughs, rolling her eyes as she says, “I gotta finish these papers, just meet me at my place by the time I’m off work tomorrow.”

“Noted. One more thing?”

“Yeah?”

“If you don’t want him, can I have Ghostface? I promise imma’ answer the phone.”

“Ezra, get the fuck off my phone.”

“Muah! Bye!”

˚. ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏~♡ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

WHEN THE NEXT DAY COMES, Asael becomes antsy, glad for it to be Friday, but not glad that she admittedly has some apologizing to do. She knew that an apology was in order for her as well, but she wasn’t necessarily holding her breath on that one—especially when the person who picked up Megumi was the nanny and not Toji.

She knew it was now the weekend and that meant leaving behind issues at work, but she couldn’t help being the emotional person she was, constantly stressing on issues she wished she could immediately smooth over. She now stood within the full body mirror in her bedroom, eyeing herself as she was her own constant critic.

Her strawberry hair flowed around her face in layers, falling to her mid back. She wore a black mini skirt, the bottom of her ass poking out as paired it with thinly strapped matching heels, black baby tee and her red hello kitty purse. She leaned within the mirror as she lined her lips with brown liner, fluffy cat-eye lashes hanging above her previously darkened water line.

Ezra came behind her, playfully whistling, “So you are tryna’ get that card swiped tonight, huh?”

“Can I just be a girl that wants to be sexy, not because of a man?”

Ezra smirks as he tilts his head, seeing as she then mutters, “If he’ fine, then maybe.”

“Mhm, whatever. You’ ready to go?”

“Not as ready as you, you’ ready to see your man?” She teases.

Ezra leans within the wall, dreamily sighing, “I’m ready to do bad things to him. Let’s go!” He nearly drags her out of the house, preparing for an eventful night.

As they pull into function, cars line down the lot, motorbikes also grumbling along the ground as they model next to the customized vehicles. The air smells of gas, people taking pictures or showing off their most prized possessions, men and women all talking amongst each other, feeling the thrive of energy.

Asael looks around in excitement as they arrive at the car show, taking in the sight of the various vehicles and the crowd of people buzzing with excitement. From a pink Kuromi styled suped-up motorbike, to a black and white BMW E-30, tires screech under smoke as the vehicle takes off, swiveling around the parking lot almost like a video game.

They step back as cars fly past them, excited yells whooshing into the air. It’s a chaotic scene in the best way. Asael has a warm smile come to her face, feeling as if it's been a while since she’s enjoyed herself like this.

“Daddy!”

She turns as Ezra squeals, wrapping his arms around a taller man that chuckles, low waves along his head, brown skin almost matching the sweatshirt he wears. A bright smile comes to his face as he pulls Ezra into a hug, kissing his lips as he mutters within his ear.

“This is Cam,” Ezra grins against his mouth, Asael giving a soft smile as she greets, “Asael. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” he chuckles, “I don’t know too many girls that are into shit like this.”

She shakes her head, “To tell you the truth, I’m terrified of motorbikes and extremely loud cars, but they’re cool to look at, I’m just here for the ride. No pun intended.”

Cam replies amusingly, “Well by all means, you can always just chill by my car. It’s the ‘79 dodge charger.”

She takes a deep breath, nodding her head as she hides the jump her body wants to make every time someone loudly revs their engine. It’s not that she was afraid, her mind just thought of the worst when seeing these vehicles and bikes mindlessly racing one another, the fear of being hurt more concerning to her than anything—that definitely came from being around kids all day.

When she looks to his car again, seeing the multicolored headlights, she then compliments, “It’s fire as fuck, Cam. My chest hurts just thinking about how much you spent on customizing it.”

He sighs, “It was fasho’ a splurge, but the shit was worth every penny. She purrs like a kitten when she's revved up."

Ezra lets out a scoff as he rolls his eyes, “Yeah, yeah. Keep bragging about your car like it's your new boyfriend or something."

“How do you know I wasn’t talking about you?” Cam replies, wrapping his hands around Ezra’s waist, tugging him forward. They both laugh as they pull themselves into a kiss, and for the first time, Asael feels like the third wheel. Times like these made her wish she did have someone to romantically entertain, it made her feel a little lonely.

She clears her throat as she mutters to them, “I’m uh… gonna go find something to eat,” giving a weak smile as she waves, giving them no time to reply as she’s already searching for a food truck.

The music they play along the lot keeps her company as she takes pictures of cars she likes, too anxiety filled to actually talk to any of their owners. Most of the men had women who glared deeply at her, almost hissing as she passed by. She was starting to feel insecure for her outfit choice.

As Asael walks down the line, she makes her way to the small bar they have within the event, ordering a crown vanilla and coke mixture, taking light sips as she continues walking around. Her eyes slowly catch the attention of a handsome, caramel complexioned man who takes pictures of a custom challenger, headlights royal blue with a blower engine plummeting atop of the hood.

Okay, this was it. She lets out a deep breath as she compliments, “Nice car.”

The man looks up as he hears her compliment, his eyes roaming over her with appreciation. He smiles, clearly enjoying the attention.

"Thanks,” he leans against the hood of the car, crossing his arms over his chest, “She's my pride and joy. Been working on her for months. You’ showing off a ride here?”

“Oh, no. I’m uh—third wheeling my best friend,” she lightly laughs, “Decided to walk around by myself before they started hooking up in the car.”

The man chuckles at her response, "Ah, so you're in need of some company tonight,” he replies, looking her up and down with a slightly cocky smile.

She shrugs, already feeling slightly buzzed from her drink, “Maybeee,” she hums, “Unless you already have a passenger princess.”

The man smirks at her response, clearly enjoying the banter. He takes a step closer, leaning his hip against the car and looking down at her as he replies, “Nah, no passenger princess... yet."

Her tipsy aura has her feeling giddy, nodding her head as she agrees, “You seem to have good taste in cars and women.”

Just as she thinks there’s a possible connection between them, she turns her head to find the sound of people yelling, and her entire physique comes to a stop. It’s as if the hairs on her body stand up— instantly recognizing that aura from a mile away.

On the other side of the lot, the familiar neck tattoo filled her eyes, watching as he leaned on the seat of a Suzuki GSX-R750 street bike, cigarette within his mouth as his low voice sexily laughed about whatever conversation he was having. Her blood could’ve boiled as she watched him clasp palms with another man, dabbing him up as her eyes noticed something retract from his palm, now successfully within the other guy's hand. This had to be a joke.

“Can you uh…gimme a second?” She turns towards the guy she was previously talking to, giving an angelic smile.

She knew that this would be her second time being in this man’s business, but now she actually had a reason to spazz out. She can still feel the effects of her drink, knowing that’s another reason why she’s so adamant on going over there to knock his head off of his shoulders. Maybe she should’ve just headed back over to Ezra.

But as her hips twist with a vengeance and her heels thump along the ground to draw herself closer, maybe not.

A glare burns into the sockets of Toji as she stomped towards him, unable to hold her emotions back as she says, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Toji catches the familiarity of her voice as he looks up, his eyes meeting hers. A smug expression immediately appears on his face as he recognizes her, he lets out a lazy chuckle.

“You look pretty as fuck,” he tells her, his voice deep and gravelly. The statement has her face go blank for a brief second as he takes a drag of his cigarette, “Who are you tryna’ show out for?” exhaling slowly as he looks her up and down.

She realizes once again that she’s outside of her job atmosphere, pulling at the mini-mini skirt. The last person she expected to see was one of her students' parents, especially the one she’d just previously had beef with. Now he was looking at her in a way she hadn’t seen before. She wanted to punch him. It also made her very, very, horny. What the hell was happening to her?

“Are you serious, Toji?”

“Say my name again.”

“Bastard. What the hell are you doing here? What the fuck are you even doing? And don’t play dumb, I just saw you slide some shit over to the guy that walked away,” she fires off, his smug look making her want to jump atop of him and elbow him in the face.

“You’ watching me now?”

“You’re not very fuckin’ discreet!”

He shrugs, “I’m just showing off my car and bike.”

“Don’t play fucking dumb. I could call CPS on your stupid ass right fucking now!”

He pulls the cigarette from his lips, smoke pulling from his nose as he replies, “Don’t be a pain in the ass.”

“Don’t be a pain in the ass? Nigg—ooh!” she exclaims, watching as that makes him raise an eyebrow, a smirk coming along his lips as she continues, “You can’t be serious. I have to be immensely drunk if you’re gonna sit here and justify being a goddamn plug while you have a child. Where is your fuckin’ son, Toji?”

“You think I’d have him in this type of environment? Don’t fuckin’ play with me,” he almost sneers, Asael crossing her arms as he states, “I’m not an idiot. He’s with the nanny, her son comes over during the weekends to hang with Megumi. Got some other shit you wanna scream at me about?”

“I’ll give you five more things I wanna scream about!—“

“Hey, Zenin. I got you a beer like you wanted,” a girl comes beside him, interrupting the conversation as her green eyes stare over Asael, blonde hair and pale skin shining under the light of the lot.

A brief scan over Asael comes from the girl, jealously feigning her body as she narrows her eyes at her, “Who’s this?”

“This is my son’s teacher, Ms. Honey.”

“Ms. Honey?” The girl raises an eyebrow.

“That’s what I said. Her ass is nowhere near sweet,” he replies, Asael grimacing as he opens the bottle with his teeth effortlessly, the cap popping along the ground.

“Funny,” she squints her eyes, “It’s just Asael,” she corrects.

“A teacher,” it’s like this girl's eyes move without her permission, scanning Asael for the second time before she then states, “I’d never be able to tell.”

It’s shady, yup. It’s shady. Asael holds her breath as she asks, “Am I supposed to be wearing a cardigan or something?”

“To cover up that attention seeking piece of fabric you call a skirt? Maybe,” she gives Asael a dismissive once-over, still continuously sizing her up.

Her insults are corny, not enough to actually piss off Asael. The same way she attempted to dismiss her, she turns to Toji as she sighs, “I need to talk to you.”

“Now?” He leans himself forward, pushing off of the bike as he comes closer to her with a frown, “It can’t wait?”

“Do you think I give a fuck about your play-thing? I don’t. Yes, now.”

“Who are you calling a play-thing, bitch?” the girl sneers.

Asael’s eyes could’ve jumped out of her sockets, head swiftly tilting as she narrows her eyes, “Who are you calling a bitch, bitch?”

The thought of two women fighting over…essentially him, was an entertaining thought. But seeing Asael’s anger for himself and knowing he could handle her just fine, he wasn’t too sure if a girl he’d only been flirting with for the last hour or so had the same capability— or she was just a little too big for her own bridges. He also didn’t want to see his son’s teacher get into a fight.

“What’s your problem?” The girl scoffs, as if she didn’t start this conflict herself.

“What you’ mean? You were just talking all this hot shit, now I’m with whatever! I’m on that type of time!” She looks around Toji who’s hovered in front of her, hands shoved in his pockets as he mutters, “Chill.”

“How about you stop being so ghetto and act like a professional, Ms. Honey?”

“Ghetto?” she blinks, a crowd forming as Asael becomes visibly pissed off, “Who the fuck are you calling ghetto? I’ll show you ghetto, the fuck!” Now feeling racially attacked at the girl's words, Toji now steps forward as he grips for Asael’s waist, seeing as she’s inches away from hemming the girl up.

"Knock it the fuck off,” he snaps, his voice firm as he holds her back.

“Don’t tell me shit! Tell your hoes to watch they’ fuckin’ mouth! Talking about ‘ghetto’, bitch you don’t even know me!” She lunges forward again, the girl flinching back a bit, Toji gripping Asael harder, glare along his face as he’s now irritated.

His eyes hardened as he felt in her body that she hadn’t relaxed in the slightest. He knew she hadn’t been drinking enough to become belligerent, but he could tell her anger was something that wasn’t a simple passover.

His voice was now low as he firmly pulled her jaw up to meet his face, snapping at her in a way she hadn’t expected him to, "You're not getting into a fight over this. You need to calm down."

Toji then turns towards the girl as he says, “Go.”

“What?” She frowns, “Go?” She repeats.

“You heard me. Fuck off,” he tells her.

The girl rolls her eyes, “Whatever. You two can fucking have each other,” walking off as she throws her beer along the ground.

The moment she leaves, Asael feels herself still shaking, ripping herself away from Toji as she grunts, “I didn’t need your goddamn help.”

He instantly tugs her back, large hand having a deadly hold along her wrist, “Oh yeah? Then why was your little ass about to start a fight in a damn parking lot?" he snaps, his eyes narrowing as he looks down at her.

“You think I was gonna let a white girl call me ghetto? Have you lost your damn mind? Like I’m just acting out for no reason,” she sneers, yanking herself back, a game of tug-o-war at this point.

Toji actually becomes pissed off as he commands, “Get in the car.”

She looks over to the Dodge Durango Hellcat, engine humming, wrapped a shiny black with blood red headlights shining across and below the vehicle.

“What? I’m not getting in your fuckin’ car.”

“Woman. Get in the goddamn car.”

They’re now both staring at one another, neither of them making a move. He nods his head, a humorless smirk coming along his mouth, giving her a couple more seconds. Nothing.

He then leans over and opens the passenger door of his car, turning back as he firmly wraps his fingers along Asael’s throat and yanks her towards him. She yelps as he shoves her down into the seat, removing his hand from her neck as he brings his face close to hers, “Put your legs inside, cause I’m seconds away from tearing your ass up in this back seat.”

With the mouth she had on her, his was worse. She was learning that. Her parted lips shut tightly, face pulling back from his as she felt her cheeks go hot. She quickly pulled her legs inside, jumping as the door slammed next to her.

Now sitting with her arms crossed, he gets in on the drivers side, the silence between the two now being filled with her heavy breathing. Toji removes the leather jacket he wears, inked up arms flexing as he leans back against the seat, hovering his hand over the lighter within his car as he ignites another cigarette.

He takes a slow drag, the smoke filling the space between them as it’s still silent. He eyes her for a moment.

"Are you good now?” he asks, his voice level but still hinting at irritation.

“I’m calm,” she says flatly.

"Like hell you're calm. You nearly got into a fight over some random ass girl's words,” he mutters, exhaling smoke from his nostrils.

She turns her head, “Do I need to repeat why I was initially upset? It wasn’t about her. I don’t give a fuck about that hoe. I’m mad about what she said.”

Toji sighs, taking another drag from his cigarette. He glances over at her, studying her angry expression as he tells her, "You gotta learn to let shit like that roll off your back, baby," he says, his tone slightly softer, “Getting all worked up and tryna’ fight isn't going to prove anything."

“Oh? Says the motherfucker with the anger of a hornet? Just like you don’t need my advice, I don’t need a fuckin’ father.”

“How are you such a sweet thing to kids, yet act like this right now? Do you always get this pissed off?”

“No. Probably that damn Crown I drank. I don’t know,” she admits, the alcohol within her system feeling like two cups of coffee, her leg immensely shaking as she feels slightly frustrated.

Toji glances at her leg, noticing how much it's shaking. He reaches out, setting a hand on her thigh and giving it a squeeze to stop the movement.

"You're going to shake the whole damn car," he mutters, his hand still resting on her leg.

The touch makes her leg stop shaking, a chill running up her spine at his rough hands. Her arms soften as they’re still crossed, looking out the window as the event continues to play out, sounds of cheering coming from the other side of the lot as cars do donuts.

She looks back towards him as she mutters, “My bad.”

He notices the way she tenses up when he touches her, the subtle shiver that runs up her spine. It's a reaction that he finds intriguing.

"Your bad? That's all I get?” he asks, thumb slowly tracing small circles on her leg, almost absentmindedly.

“I’m not apologizing for almost giving that bitch a hands on tonsil removal, but I didn’t mean to make a scene,” she says, making that her version of an apology.

Toji lets out a low chuckle, the sound gruff. He continues to trace circles on her leg, his touch light yet firm as he sarcastically replies, “That's real mature of you.”

“If some asshole came up to you talking shit, you would’ve had his heart placed within his prostate. Don’t even lie,” she turns her head towards him.

"You're damn right I would," he roughly replies, his hand sliding higher up her thigh, his fingers squeezing the flesh there.

“Don’t you think that’s hypocritical?” She raises an eyebrow.

The moment after she asks the question, she lightly shifts her thigh away from him as the buzz of her drink has her core throbbing, feeling the secretion creating in her between her legs. Her hips nearly shook at his touch. She did her best to hide it.

He lets out a chuckle at her question, noticing the slight movement of her knee. His hand moves again, this time resting on her inner thigh. He can feel the warmth of her skin.

"I never said I wasn't a hypocrite," he replies, his voice dropping to a rough whisper. His thumb continues to slide across her skin, teasingly close to the hem of her skirt.

“Then…”

She didn’t mean to do it, she really didn’t. But damn, she couldn’t help it. The quietest gasp left her lips as his finger shifted right above the now drenched fabric of her panties, her entire body jumping at the simple touch. Her fingers yanked for the car handle, opening it up as she insulted, “You aren’t a hypocrite, you’re a fucking bastard!” Getting out of the car as she slams the door, mind fuzzy, legs shaking and hot as she makes her way back over to Ezra and Cam.

Toji watches in amusement as she jumps out of the car, shaking his head with a cocky smirk on his face. He shrugs to himself, leaning back against the seat and taking another drag from his cigarette.

“Hey? What the hell happened?” Ezra asks, seeing the look along his best friend's face, hands coming from around Cam's waist.

“Almost got into a fight, found Toji here, almost got my coochie touched in the car by Toji, and now I’m here, telling you!”

Ezra’s head nearly spins, “Wha?! Huh?!”

“Okay, quick run down. I was talking to this cutie with a challenger before I saw Toji in my peripheral doing…I don’t know, illegal shit with this guy. I said oh, so this is what we’re doing? He said it’s not a big deal. I said you have a son?! He brushed me off. Some girl walks up and sizes me up, we get into it and she ended up calling me ‘ghetto’ Toji physically put my ass in the car cause I was about to show her what the fuck ghetto was. He calmed me down and he was rubbing my thigh and I got really horny so I jumped out and—now I’m here?” She says the last part softer, Cam unable to hold his laugh, causing her to whine, “It’s not funny!”

“Fighting at a car lot, friend? Might be ghetto,” Ezra giggles, Asael letting out a sigh as she places her hands along her hips.

“You can say that, I don’t care. She couldn’t though. But seriously, you guys suck. I need another drink,” Asael grumbles.

“To pump you up for your next battle?”

“Fuck you. Imma’ smoke instead.”

“Better go ask your man then.”

“I will hit you!”

As Ezra dramatically pulls her into a hug to comfort her, she can’t help the soft laugh that comes from her lips. She just hopes this night becomes better before it ends. Asael was unsuccessful in all of the promises to herself, talking to Toji about Megumi, even getting that hot guy's number. All she wanted to do was ball up in a corner and cry at this point, but instead she sat atop of Cam’s car with the both of them, watching as people swerved around the lot with their own vehicles. It was now time for the motorbike show, large custom bikes revving loudly as they began flying past their bodies, Asael’s hair lightly flies back at the haste of the bikes.

Her eyes catch the scarred lip as he pulls in front of the car she sits upon, saying nothing else as he states, “Get on.”

She raises her eyebrow, looking him up and down as she frowns, “Excuse me? I’m not getting on that.”

Ezra’s eyes could’ve popped out his head, glancing over at the man as he said, “This is Toji?”

“Ezra, not now,” Asael grits her teeth, knowing he was shocked by the attractiveness of this man.

“C’mon, pretty. I don’t do all that stubborn shit,” He revs the engine of his bike, the sound filling the air as he rests his arms on the handlebars.

“Asael is afraid of bikes,” Ezra smirks, Cam wrapping his arms around him, purposely instigating the conversation as Asael glares.

Toji raises an eyebrow at Ezra's comment, turning his head to look at Asael, “Cute. Is that true?”

“Fuck you,” she says to him, hearing as that makes him darkly chuckle. When he tosses the helmet to her, she reflexively catches it before he states, “You got a couple more seconds of my patience before I put you on this bike like I put your ass in the car.”

She raises an eyebrow, “Is that a threat?”

“I make promises.”

She narrows her eyes at him, once again calling his bluff as she disagrees, “You’re not gonna do that—“ she begins, her mouth nearly dropping open as he sucks his teeth, locking the bike onto the ground as he begins removing himself from it.

She shrieks lightly, “Okay! Damn. Shit. I’m going,” standing from the car, hearing as Ezra and Cam giggle. She goes closer to the bike as she asks, “Where’s your helmet? Why’d you only give me one?”

“That is my helmet, stop stalling and get on.”

“It’s gonna ruin my hair,” she pouts, Toji snatching the helmet out of her hands as he replies, “Then get on a pray we don’t crash and your head doesn’t explode,” causing her to pull herself back, eyes wide as she shrieks, “What?! Toji!” She then whines.

His full on laugh is deep, sexy. He actually found her entirely adorable. He slides his fingers around her hips, lifting her leg onto the opposite side of the large bike as he murmurs, “Your hair is gonna be fine,” reflexively pulling her skirt that rolls up, eyes flickering to the hello kitty panties she wears. Yeah, okay.

Her heart stammers in her chest as she gets on the back, Ezra and Cam whistling out, “Nice ass!” as she has to arch herself a bit to comfortably sit behind him. As he now sits in front of her she immediately places her hands along his stomach, feeling the hardness of his abdomen, her fingers shaking as she does so.

She mutters to him, “Please don’t kill me,” a seriousness coming to her voice as she’s actually terrified.

Toji can feel her fear as she wraps her arms around his stomach. He chuckles softly, a faint smirk on his lips.

"We’d both die if you wanna be technical,” he chuckles, Asael closing her eyes as she presses her face into his back with a whimper at the thought. When he sees she’s genuinely terrified, he brings his hand backwards, lightly patting the skin close to her ass as he soothes, “Relax, baby," his voice low and rough, "You’re good. Just hold on tight,” bringing both his hands to the front, revving the monstrously loud engine of the bike.

“C’mon, Zenin! I didn’t put five-bands on this race for you to play around!” A voice calls next to him, another street bike braggingly revving their exhaust.

Her heart nearly dropped to her ass when all the other bikes began revving their engines. She’s expecting some type of circus act at this point, spinning around like maniacs and possibly killing her in the process. When she feels the bike begin to move, it takes off before she has time to mentally prepare, squeezing herself tighter around his torso as she clutches her eyes shut, pressing her cheek into the broadness of his back as she faintly shrieks.

Toji chuckles as she clings to him as if her life depends on it as he asks before it gets too loud, "You good back there?"

“Mm—mm,” she shakes her head, eyes still tightly closed as she squeals, feeling as the bike increases in speed, swerving through the lot, snapping past other bikes, gas within her nostrils as engines plummet and roar within her ears.

Toji can feel her shaking her head, her fear still evident as she buries her face into his back. He doesn't let up on the bike, pushing it faster than necessary. He can feel her body tremble against him, her cries only making him want to go faster. He swerves, making a sharp turn that causes her to cling to him even tighter, her mind going back to him saying her head might explode. What was she going to tell her students?

“Damn, pretty.” She can hear him chuckle lowly, gripping the material of his shirt as she trembles softly, “Don’t be a dick.”

He leans back slightly, shifting his weight and making her have to cling to him harder. He keeps the bike moving fast, zig-zagging through the other bikers.

"I'm not going to let anything happen to you. You're safe."

His voice is gruff yet somehow soothing. It feels like for once he’s not purposely being an ass, or constantly making jokes to rile her up. He feels genuine, knowing how terrified she actually is. As she leans against his shoulder, she peeks an eye open, her hair flurrying through the wind as she sees other bikes trying to keep up with him, going faster than anyone on the street. Her arms slightly relax as they still keep a firm hold on him, clutching as they lean to turn, a tickle coming in her stomach at the movement. A hesitant giggle pulls from her lips.

From all the crying she had been doing before, she could barely hear the music that came from his bike. Her mind focuses on the song, ‘Yam’ by Yeat plays, a curse yelling out from the biker beside them as they flurry past him like lightning.

Toji feels her arms relax slightly, her body responding to the movement of the bike. It was almost as if she was starting to enjoy the ride. A faint smirk tugs at the corner of his lips when he hears her giggle. He continues to weave through the other bikes, pushing the bike to go faster. Expertly maneuvering through the lot, Asael's hair flies wildly behind her, her body finally starting to fully relax.

"You’ getting used to it?" He calls over the wind.

She nods her head, softly replying within his ear, “I’m okay.”

It was as if the moment she said that, Asael shrieked as he floored it, another biker beside him as she felt her body falling backwards, looking to see as the front of the bike came off of the ground. Although she wanted to shit herself, she could admit that it was a cool sight to see.

As the front of the bike came off the ground, Toji let out a low chuckle at Asael's shriek. He could feel her body tense up behind him, her arms wrapping around him even tighter. He continued to control the bike, keeping it in balance as it rode on just the back wheel.

“Still scared?” He briefly turns his head towards her.

She rolls her eyes, “Just keep doing this cool shit!”

She giggles as he takes off in front of the other biker, engines nearly bursting their eardrums as they race one another. Asael yells out in excitement, Toji howling as the other biker struggles to keep up with them. In this moment her body feels like air, her hands sliding up to Toji’s chest as she places her face within the back of his neck, eyes closed as she relaxes against his scent.

His heart actually races as he feels her hands slide up his chest, her face burying into the back of his neck. He smirks, enjoying the feeling of her body pressed against him. The roar of the engine and the sound of the other bikes fill the air, but all he can focus on is her. He weaves the bike through the other riders, leaning into each turn with skill and precision. He can feel her breath on his neck, the warmth of her body sending a jump to his dick—he must've been losing his mind.

The race continues, Toji and the other biker neck to neck, engines screaming as they dart back and forth across the lot. Asael's heart beats louder than it ever has, the adrenaline pumping through her veins. She can feel Toji's heart pounding as well, the vibrations of the bike and his body making her cling to him even tighter.

Eventually, Toji pushes the bike just a bit harder, pulling ahead of the other biker. As they cross the finish line, he grins, feeling the thrill of victory coursing through his veins.

“That’s five grand on me, bitch!” He howls out, the other biker raising his middle finger to them as they both laugh within the air.

Asael rolls her eyes, giggling nonetheless at the cursing between the two men. They finally slow down, her hands loosening from around him as she immediately checks for her hair, still feeling her makeup intact as she adjusts her skirt, strawberry hair layering around her face loosely.

He smirks as his eyes take the sight of her adjusting her hair and skirt. Her red hair frames her face in an almost angelic manner, even after the wild ride they just had.

"Looks like you and your hair survived," he teases, a hint of amusement in his voice.

She brushes him off, “Whatever. Do I look okay? Do I have wind hair?” She asks, genuine concern in her voice.

He chuckles, watching her as she fusses over her appearance. He turns around slightly, his eyes roaming over her hair and face.

"You look fine. A little messy, yeah, but still pretty as hell," his voice rough yet sincere, coming forward as he pulls her hair out her face that sticks to her lips, the contrast of her caramel skin and colored hair, the lights of the lot making her almost ethereal.

The comment makes her cheeks grow hot, her legs coming off of the bike as she nods, pulling her hair behind her ear nervously. She then hears Ezra squealing, coming as he wraps his arms around her, spinning her around as it causes her to giggle as he asks, “Did you have fun?!”

Asael smiles, “I did. It was cool, I can’t lie.”

“Good. I’m glad you didn’t kill my friend, don’t know what I’d do without her,” he sighs, “Well, it’s getting pretty late. You ready to go?”

Asael doesn’t even realize it’s almost three in the morning. She looks back to Toji as she realizes she still hadn’t had the conversation regarding his relationship with Megumi. She nods her head as she says, “Yeah, uh. Actually— you guys go. I need to talk to him.”

Ezra frowns, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, go end your night with your lil’ boyfriend that’s so madly in love with you. I’ll be fine, promise,” she smiles softly.

Toji watches the exchange between them, his arms still resting on the handlebars of the bike. His expression is neutral, but there's a flicker of curiosity in his eyes as he glances at Asael.

Ezra hesitates, looking between Asael and Toji. Her words reassure him, and he finally nods, “You know I love you?” wrapping his arms around her as Asael hums, “I know, I love me too,” giggling as she teases, “Kidding. You’re my heart. I’ll call you tomorrow,” she blows kisses, both Ezra and Cam waving as they make their way back to the car.

Asael then turns to Toji as she says, “So, uh. I actually wanted to talk about Megumi. Is that okay?”

Toji’s eyes flicker, a stoicism returning back to his face as he says, “Yeah. C’mere, I wanna show you something anyways.”

Asael frowns, “If it’s in your pants, I don’t want it,” she crosses her arms, hearing as that makes a huff of a laugh fall from his lips.

Toji smirks at her comment, his eyes flashing with amusement. He shakes his head, his voice low as he replies, "I'm not trying to show you my dick. Come here."

Her eyebrows raise, arms crossing as she comes forward. He nearly rolls his eyes, taking her small palm within his large one as he pulls her towards his car. He throws his bike’s keys to one of his friends, helping her back into his truck as they take off out of the lot. The city looks pretty underneath the street lights, Asael rubbing the sides of her arms as she lets out a breath, “Where are we going?”

Toji glances at her as he drives, his eyes flickering over her figure as she rubs the sides of her arms. He notices the city lights reflecting off her skin, the girl more beautiful than he could ever imagine.

"You'll see," he says, his voice cryptic. He keeps his gaze focused on the road, his hands gripping the steering wheel firmly.

“Oh god, are they never gonna find my body? Did I make the wrong choice?” She asks, hearing that makes him chuckle, rummaging through his car compartment for his lighter, his attractiveness sticking out like a sore thumb as he drives with one hand.

"Nah," he replies, finding his lighter and igniting a cigarette between his lips, “I said you were safe with me. I meant that.”

They pull in what looks to be a garage, her eyebrows furrowing deeper at the navy blue building. She watches as he steps out, coming around as he opens the door for her, eyes still searching hesitantly around his face.

“I have pepper spray, gorilla,” she tells him, scanning over his large figure. That makes him laugh once again as he chuckles, “You’ve got jokes forreal. C’mon.”

She takes a deep breath, trying to keep up with his long strides as he’s taller than her, Toji opening the door to reveal a completely different idea of what she had in mind. It was similar to an art studio, having a bed and a projector playing music on a loop in one corner of the room, the other side having canvases, paint splashes, rugs along the floor, seeing this is where someone took their time to discover their creativity. The pictures amongst the canvases were women’s silhouettes, landscape creations, colors and different ideas all amongst her eyes.

Asael walks slowly inside as she looks around, turning to him as she asks, “You draw?”

Toji's eyes flicker as he watches her take in the studio, the surprise evident on her face. He takes a drag of his cigarette, leaning against the doorframe as she walks around the room, taking in the various artworks on display.

"Yeah," he says simply. He watches her as she stops in front of some of his more recent pieces, his eyes studying her expression carefully.

“So that’s where Megumi gets it from…” she hums.

Her body comes to a halt as she sees another wall. The pictures are familiar to her eyes, every single drawing Megumi made at school was within this wall, including the spider-man one he’d made not too long ago. A guilt almost hits her within the chest, crossing her arms as she mutters, “Shit,” to herself.

Toji watches as her eyes settle on a particular wall, filled with drawings that are unmistakably Megumi's. A mixture of pride and sadness flickers across his face, knowing that his son is far from a typical child. He stubs out the cigarette in his hand, his voice low as he speaks, “Kid’s obsessed with drawing. Always scribbling something."

It hits her like a ton of bricks. Maybe Toji wasn’t the white picket fence father, but she could see just how much he loved his son. She hated to be wrong or even admit to it, but it was time to face the music.

Asael sighs, “I…I feel bad about the first conversation we had,” she admits.

Toji raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly. He leans back against the wall, his arms crossed over his broad chest as he eyes her.

"You mean the one where you called me a bad father?”

Asael’s arms drop, eyes narrowing as she says, “You know that’s not what I said, Toji.”

Toji's expression remains stoic, his eyes fixed on hers. He pushes off the wall, coming closer to her, his steps slow and deliberate.

"Ah, right, I forgot. Potentially bad father," he replies, his voice heavy with derision. He comes right in front of her, towering over her small frame as he looks down at her.

“What was I supposed to think? I mean, I never met you. You ignored my emails, my phone calls. I didn’t have anything bad to say about Megumi. He’s a sweetheart, I couldn’t ask for a better student. I just wanted to know where he came from. What made him tick. Maybe it was wrong of me to assume you had no type of relationship, but for your nanny to say you’re a ‘busy man’ and rarely spend time with Megumi, it made me concerned,” she sighs, admitting this as she sits along the bed, head tilting up as she stares over his towering frame.

Toji listens to her words, his jaw clenching slightly. Her concern for Megumi is evident, but her assumptions about his relationship with his son irritate him. He lets out a scoff, looking down at her seated form on the bed.

"I may not spend as much time with the kid as I should. Life's tough and I do my best to provide for him. But that doesn’t mean I'm a goddamn bad father," he mutters, his voice low and rough.

“That’s not what I’m saying,” her voice goes soft. “I…” she begins, taking a deep breath as she continues to speak, “I didn’t have my father when I was younger. I don’t have a good relationship with my mother, and with that, I vowed to give my child the love and attention I never received…until I found out that I was infertile, and that I’ll never be able to conceive my own children. Maybe that’s why I love my job so much, maybe that’s why I take these things to heart. But that doesn’t make it right,” a weight comes off of her chest, embarrassingly admitting her insecurities.

Toji listens to her, his expression stoic as she admits her past. He can sense the vulnerability in her voice, the weight of her insecurities. His arms unfold from his chest as he apologizes, "I’m really sorry to hear that, Asael. I appreciate the way you care for Megumi. I can also understand why you…can be the way you are at times, life hasn’t been a walk in the park for me either," he admits sharply. He pauses for a moment, his eyes roaming over her face, "But it doesn’t give me an excuse to be a dick or use my trauma against others."

“I’m not a dick,” she brings her eyes up to him, “Megumi clings to me like I’m his damn momma, it makes me almost want to cry at times,” she laughs hoarsely, “I really do care about him, he’s different from my other kids.”

Toji's eyes soften a bit, his expression losing some of its usual stoicism. He can hear the sincerity in her voice, the genuine affection she has for Megumi. He lets out a sigh, running a hand through his dark hair.

"Yeah, the kid’s like a magnet," he admits, "Damned if I know why, though."

“Because he can’t stick to you all the time. Listen, I’ll leave you alone about him. I just…please be sweet to him, you don’t seem like the type of father to be all mushy and shit, but it makes him smile. Little things go a long way with children, and at this age they need that affection,” she runs her fingers through her hair, sighing out, “He loves you, and you love him. I can see that.”

Toji listens to her words, his eyes studying her face. There’s a flicker of something in his gaze. He lets out a huff, crossing his arms across his chest again.

"You think I don’t think about how I haven’t been there for him as much as I should be? But you gotta understand, I do the best I can with the hand I’ve been dealt."

“Have you raised him alone since he was born?”

Toji’s eyes narrow at her question, her curiosity evident. There’s a moment of hesitation before he responds, his voice low again.

"Yeah, pretty much," he admits. He sucks his teeth, his eyes fixed on the floor, “His mother…well, she’s not around. And I don’t have much of a family to lean on, so it’s just been us most of his life."

It makes more sense to her why he is the way he is, understanding that his constant abandonment could be him wanting better for his child than he had, or his own traumas relaying over.

She sighs, “You’re doing amazing for what you can. He’s truly a little ball of sunshine,” she giggles, “Just wish he’d talk more.”

Toji’s expression softens a little at her words, a hint of gratitude in his eyes. He lets out a huff, shrugging his shoulders, "He's always been a quiet kid. But he's smart, always has been. Got his damn mother's brains.”

As silence falls between them, her eyes come up as she then hears him say, “I’m sorry.”

She tilts her head, “For?”

Toji sighs, his usually impassive eyes meeting hers. There’s a flicker of hesitation in them, a vulnerability that he rarely shows.

"For being a dick to you, I guess," he mutters gruffly, "You were just looking out for Megumi, I can’t hold that against you."

“Ms. Honey says that adding, ‘I guess’ to an apology doesn’t necessarily make it sincere,” she tells him, not wanting to put her teacher hat on, but unable to help herself as she gives him a soft laugh.

Toji scoffs, a hint of a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. He leans against the wall, his arms still crossed over his chest.

"And you got that from your big ass teaching handbook, huh?" he retorts, his voice holding a hint of mockery.

She shrugs, “I’m more street smart than anything. But seriously, I gave you a real apology, so I expect you to get on your knees and kiss my feet or something.”

Toji laughs at her comment, his expression amused. He pushes off the wall, taking a step towards her, "Kiss your feet, huh?" he repeats, his voice low, "You're not asking for much, are you?"

“Mmm, this one of my smaller requests,” she giggles, trying to mask the nervousness she feels around him, crossing her legs as she plays with the end of her skirt.

A shocked laugh comes from her as he pulls for her legs, lifting them to the sides of her as he has a hold of her ankles, lowering his mouth as he kisses the side of her foot. He raises an eyebrow as his gruff voice calls, “Yeah?”

The giggling comes from still being slightly tipsy and now face full-on hot, nodding her head as she amusingly replies, “T—that’s a start.”

“Oh, now I got you’ stuttering,” he drawls. He removes her heels off of her feet, beginning to suck the skin of her ankles, dragging his lips down her legs as he goes between the both of them, creating quick pecks as he latches the skin into his mouth with a popping sound. Her giggling subsides as this causes her hips to raise, her fingers digging into the sheets as she presses her mouth into itself, a line of fire being created within her body.

She then clears her throat as she dumbly asks, “U—uh, did that hurt?” She refers to the tattoo along his neck.

Toji’s eyes flicker as she asks about his tattoo, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips as his vision bores into her own. He keeps his lips along her ankles, "Nah, didn't hurt too bad," his eyes roaming over her form hungrily.

“Mine hurt like hell,” she refers to her own, the rose nearly taking over the left side of her neck, trying to keep conversation as she feels herself trembling—why was she trembling? Has it really been this long?

"Yeah? Tell me where else you got’ ink,” he wants her to keep talking to hear the shake in her voice, now hovering his face above hers, keeping his hand wrapped around one of her ankles, slowly beginning to lift it along his shoulder.

“U—uh, something on my chest…something on my hip…Little drunk ideas at the time,” her tipsy aura had faded, soberness knocking her in the head as she soaked in the fact that she was…alone with him.

Toji's eyes darken at her admission, his gaze traveling along her curves, imagining the tattoos hiding beneath her clothes. The thought makes something primal stir within him, the desire to know...to see. His other hand slowly traces along her thigh, tips of his fingers gently grazing up her inner thigh as it halts right over her panties, Asael’s mouth slightly parting as she sucks in a breath. His mouth parts along with hers as a dark chuckle leaves his lips, "Just those two, huh?"

“Probably more,” she says in a softer tone, her own hand raising to his shoulder, gripping lightly along his shirt to stop her hands from shaking. He leans forward more, letting their lips just barely touch each other. His fingers brush over her clit, rubbing against the fabric down to her opening as he hears just how wet she is, dropping his eyes down as he grunts, “Ooh, fuck,” Asael gasping along his mouth, her face probably as red as her hair at this point.

She moves her hand up to the back of his hair as her hips tremble, gripping the dark mane as she gasps out, “Toji—“ unable to get out her words as he roughly kisses her. Their tongues fall deeper into one another as they filthily make out, Asael’s open mouth dragging out a moan, eyes rolling to the back of her head as he practically fucks her mouth, head spinning as she desperately kisses him back.

He delves his fingers beneath her panties, Asael gripping for his shoulders, breathless as she whimpers, “F—fuck, just—fuck.”

“Wanted your pussy around my fingers the minute I seen you in this fuckin’ skirt,” he grunts within her ear, Asael whimpering deeper at that, feeling as he sinks his middle and ring finger past her opening, shuddering out a whine at his voice. Her skirt shoves up to her hips as she leans into the bed, unable to fight as he groans at her opening squelching from how aroused she is.

His fingers continue to work their way deeper into her, teasing her clit with each stroke of his thumb while keeping her legs pinned open with one hand. Their voices become muffled as they share a mix of moans, grunts, and gasps, lost in the intense pleasure of their mutual pleasurable experience.

It’s like she’d gone blind, eyes rolling to the back of her head as she gripped for his hair, his mouth parting open a his fingers fell deeper into her, catching her mouth with his as she groaned, “Toji,” she can’t stop herself, whining peevishly within his mouth, listening as her opening gushes, legs trembling as she pleads for his mercy, nearly killing her without doing much of anything to her.

As Asael's walls tighten around his fingers, signaling her impending climax, Toji presses his thumb against her clit with increased force, “Why is this shit so fuckin’ wet,” causing her to let out a series of desperate moans and whines. He watches her face closely, enjoying the sight of her flushed features and glazed eyes as she succumbs to the pleasure storm building within her body.

“I’m gonna cum,” she gasps, pulling one of her hands down to stop his wrist, crying softly as he snatches her hand away as he grunts, “Cum all over my fuckin’ fingers.”

He slows down, leaving her aching for more. His free hand wraps around her wrist once again, preventing her from trying to stop him as he begins to thrust his fingers deep inside her core, hitting her g-spot with precision. Asael's body starts to quiver in anticipation of her impending orgasm, her body feels desperate, creating a constant state of heightened arousal that leaves her completely dependent upon him for release.

She trembles out a moan, her other hand hanging onto his shirt as his mouth envelopes over hers, grunting out, “Right there?” She nods her head, whimpering shakily, “Right there,” bringing her hand down as she pulls his wrist towards her, his fingers scathing her gummy walls, a dark chuckle pulling from his lips at that.

Feeling the desperation in her voice and seeing the need in her eyes, he pushes his fingers even deeper into her tight canal, rubbing against her g-spot with just enough pressure to send her over the edge.

Asael lets out a long, drawn-out moan, her body shaking violently as she succumbs to the waves of pleasure crashing over her. Her hand releases his shirt and comes to rest on his shoulder, providing some stability amidst the chaotic sensations coursing through her body.

Her opening spouts out her arousal, Toji’s lips upon her neck, her hand gripping for his hair as she curses out, whining as she squirts along his fingers, something she’d never done before. She trembles, “Oh shi—shittt,” crying as he spanks her for that, grunting as he pulls his face up to kiss her, Asael whimpering as she attempts to kiss him back. She’s already completely spent.

“Gonna’ cum like that on my dick?”

“Shut up.”

“Tell me.”

“Shut up. Please.”

As Asael's body shudders and shakes, releasing her pent-up frustration in hot, messy streams onto his fingers, Toji watches in satisfaction. He savors each moment of her release, feeling the warmth of her juices coating his digits as they slide against her sensitive inner walls.

He brings his mouth up to meet hers once again, capturing her lips in a bruising kiss. Their tongues dance together, exchanging saliva and taste as he pulls away slightly to grunt, "Good fuckin’ girl. Gimme’ your eyes,” he pulls her face to meet his, “You got a fuckin’ mouth on you. Gonna make you cum as many times as you pissed me off.”

“‘M sorry,” she whimpered. He then snatches her to the end of the bed, spreading her legs as his mouth attaches to her clit, shaking his head from side to side as he spreads her opening with his jaw.

His tongue laps at her wet folds hungrily, teasing her sensitive nub with delicate flicks of his tongue, sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout her entire body.

He holds her legs open with one hand, tracing patterns on her inner thighs and giving her ass a light spank. The combination of sensations sends Asael spiraling further into submission, making her completely reliant upon him for any semblance of relief.

She lies spread-eagled across the bed, her body still quivering from the intense orgasm she just experienced. Toji leans in close to her dripping entrance, his tongue working feverishly against her sensitive flesh, the mixture of wetness and heat from his mouth combined with the occasional smack to her ass sends shivers down her spine, leaving her completely vulnerable and exposed.

His eyes flick upward, gray pouring into her vision as his voice groans, “Tell me how you like your pussy ate.”

She leans her head up, breathing harshly as she grips for his hair, her own strawberry curls sticking along her warm face as she whimpers, “Put your tongue in me,” begging essentially.

Toji’s mouth is quick, sliding his tongue deep inside of her, swirling it around and teasing the sensitive walls with the tip of his tongue. He can feel the anticipation building within her, and he knows that she's on the verge of another climax.

As he continues to lap at her folds, he speaks in a deep, rumbling tone, "Your pussy is so fuckin’ pretty, baby,” he adds an extra emphasis on the word 'pretty,' making sure she knows exactly how much he appreciates her beauty both inside and out.

She nods her head, opening tightening as she listens to his mouth, head falling back onto the bed as she spreads her legs for him, “Y—you look so pretty too,” she softly compliments, hearing him chuckle, a shiver coming across her body from the rumble of his amusement.

Her teeth digs into her lip as he spanks her again, jumping as her entire body ignites at his roughness. His hands move to cup her hips, holding her in place as he continues to eat her out. He loves watching the way she reacts to every touch and command, knowing that he has complete control over her body.

"Wait until I’m done eating you, imma’ fuck you so good," he growls menacingly, pulling his mouth away from her dripping entrance, leaving a trail of saliva in its wake as he looks up at her with a predatory glint in his eyes.

As he stands up, he grabs hold of her ankles and lifts them up towards his face, positioning her legs straight up in the air, tongue sloshing up and down as he indulges himself within her. With her legs held high in the air, he begins to slowly thrust his tongue deep inside of her slick entrance, pushing it in, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he moans, spanking her again. His hand reaches down to grab hold of her hip bone, using it for leverage as he starts to fuck her with his tongue, driving it in and out with relentless force.

She moans, music to his ears as she spreads more for him, whimpering harshly as a pout comes to her face, “I’m gonna cum all over your fuckin’ face, baby,” gasping as he bruises her skin with his palm for her sultry words. He deeply kisses her opening as he grunts, “Next time you cum it’ll be cause’ I’m fuckin’ you stupid,” he corrects her, “Better fuckin’ wait for me.”

She nods her head, pulling her thoughts together as she continues to take the pleasure he gives her, thighs shaking as she feels herself coming closer to the edge.

“Tell me you want my dick,” he gruffly commands.

“Want your dick so bad, baby, please,” she begs, spreading her legs wider, “Please,” she repeats.

He slows down the pace of his tongue, teasing her with gentle laps and light sucks before picking up speed once more, flicking his tongue against her clit relentlessly as he drives deeper into her throbbing core with each stroke of his tongue. The combination of sensations leaves Asael nearly breathless, her body trembling in anticipation.

He yanks her to the end of the bed, Asael gasping as he pulls her legs over his shoulders, lifting her up as they now stand inches away from the bed, her body held in the air by his strong arms. His hands hold the skin of her ass within his palms, Toji gently kissing her lips, pulling away to leave her mouth parted. She almost feels lonely. His tip is full and fat, smushing along her opening in a teasing way.

She places her fingers along his back as she whimpers, “Stop teasing me.”

Her mouth goes from parting to dropping open, feeling as he slowly sinks her onto the heaviness of his length, a sense of pain rupturing through her spine, overriding by a pleasure that nearly causes her to black out. Toji groans lowly within her mouth, Asael’s eyes rolling back as silence goes in between them, her legs trembling as she shockingly squirts along his abdomen, body shuddering as she groans from the unexpected orgasm.

Toji smirks arrogantly as he lifts his hand to smack along her cheek, “Keep your eyes open. Look at you, cumming from me putting my shit inside of you. You needed this, didn’t you?”

She grips for his hair, gasping against his lips as he lifts her up, dropping her back down, listening to their skin collect arousal together. Tears collect in her vision, whining mercilessly. Her body hasn’t subsided from her orgasm as he bounces her down, skin clapping together, Asael sobbing, “Oh my god, fuck.”

"Tearing your shit up so good, baby, you feel that?” He’s evil, continuously bouncing her up and down on his length, gradually increasing the intensity of their movements, battering her walls relentlessly while maintaining eye contact with her tear-streaked face.

She sniffles, nodding her head as she cries out, “I feel it.”

Toji’s teeth were nipping along her neck, leaving red trails against her skin. His hips snapped into hers with enough force to cause her to whine. Her nails dig against his skin, but it was far from uncomfortable. If anything, he liked it.

“This is what you wanted, huh?” he murmured, his hot breath against her ear. His tongue trailing against her earlobe, licking the sensitive skin.

“All you’ been thinking about.”

Asael helplessly nods her head, her eyes falling down to watch as their hips connected harshly. She breathed out, “Fuck, Toji.”

Toji’s breath hitches as he hears his name fall from her lips. It was a sound he could definitely get used to. His name was like a melody. It was a sweet song leaving her lips, hearing her say his name was like music to his ears.

“Watch your fuckin’ mouth.” He warned, sucking softly on her skin, biting down just enough to leave a mark.

“Thought you liked a lil’ potty mouth,” she attempted to tease, gasping through her words. Her eyes fluttered shut, inhaling softly as she felt his hand slam along the skin of her ass, his other fingers traveling up as they shoved into her mouth.

“You’re pushing it,” Toji tells her, squeezing her skin in his hand, biting down on her shoulder as his fingers press against her tongue.

“Keep mouthing off like that. Gonna use your throat for something else.”

“Sorry,” she whimpers, wrapping her mouth along his fingers, sucking gently as she moans.

“Yeah, you’re definitely not sorry.”

Her mouth wrapped around his fingers felt nice, her tongue pressing against them in a way that would send a shiver down his spine. He could only imagine what else that tongue would do to him.

He leaned down, moving his fingers out of her mouth to bite along her jaw, down to her neck as he grunted, “Fuckin’ tease.”

“And you’re a bastard,” she gripped the back of his hair, pushing out the words with the last bit of air within her throat.

Toji lets out an amused chuckle, the grip on his hair pulling his head back slightly. All of it drove him crazy.

“You like that shit,” He murmurs against her ear, his hips still forcing themselves into hers. “Admit it.”

She shakes her head, eyes rolling to the back of her head as he pulls her head back, looking within her face. She digs her teeth into her lip, refusing to give him a response.

“Fuck you,” she grunts out, her stomach dropping as he shoved his hips up, dropping her hips down. She trembled, her mouth flying open as she whines, “Fuck, baby. Fuck. Fuck.”

“Yeah? That’s all you got now?”

She gasped, hips shivering as she used one of her hands to cover her mouth, unable to stop herself from the broken moan she releases, “Fuckkk, my god. Stop it.”

He continued moving, forcing his hips against hers. He wanted to hear more of her. No, he needed to hear more of her.

“T—Toji,” she holds onto him, “Can’t hold on much longer, oh my…” she gasps, “Fuckin’ h—hate you.”

“You don’t.”

“I do,” she promises, eyes fluttering shut, “So much.”

“You’re giving me all this attitude, but you’re holding on so fuckin’ tightly to me like you don’t wanna let go,” he raises her hips, tip halfway out of her, feeling as her legs shake, Asael swivels her lower body as she whimpered.

“Cause I don’t wanna,” she then admits, her moans dropping from her lips like she couldn’t stop them, the sound of their hips connecting alarming around her ears, she trembles out a harsh cry.

“There we go,” he murmured against her skin, his lips trailing along her shoulder, “That wasn’t so hard.”

Each time he slams her down onto his dick, her pussy gripping tightly around him, releasing small waves of pleasure that seem to radiate throughout both their bodies.

“Pussy’s talking to me baby, huh?”

“Ugn—mhmmmm.”

She grips the side of his face, nodding her head as she begs, “Don’t stop,” trembling as she kisses along his neck.

“Don’t stop?”

His fingers dig into the flesh of her ass, grinding her onto his abdomen, arousal dripping down his abdomen each time their bodies connect.

“Don’t.”

She feels like he’s punishing her for the mouth she had before they ended up here, her attitude something that needed to be tamed. Now here she was—broken and needing him, attitude nowhere in sight.

“Reckless ass fuckin’ mouth of yours. Now look at you.”

“Fuckk, baby. Please.”

“What? Talk to me.”

She gasps, back of her thighs clapping along his hips, coating her arousal along his length as she breathlessly whimpers, “Sorry.”

“You should be.”

A peevish whine leaves her lips, dragging her tongue along his jaw until it reaches his lips, “Want you so bad.”

Toji grins at her whimpers and begs, the sound fueling his desire further. He captures her tongue with his, dominating her mouth as he increases the pace of his thrusts. The room is filled with the sound of their bodies connecting, the lewd noises and gasps they're both making.

"Fuck, never heard pussy talk the way she’s talking to me,” he groans in her ear, his voice filled with satisfaction, “You want me this bad?"

She gasps against his lips, holding his hair tightly within her fingers, brokenly moaning as she nods her head, head tilting back as he slams her hips down harder to meet his.

Asael's gasps for air between moans, her body twitching with pleasure and anticipation, only serve to further fuel Toji's hunger. He revels in her cries of pleasure echoing throughout the room as he continues to fuck her senseless.

She nearly whines like a brat when he pulls out of her, carrying her over to the bed as he lays his back against it. Pulling Asael by her blood rich curls, he grips his length within his other hand, slapping it along her tongue before pushing it between the lips of her mouth. Her eyes roll to the back of her head as she moans, immediately bobbing her head up and down as she sucks him within her mouth.

He pulls her hair back roughly, forcing her to look up at him as he holds her head still while he pushes his length into her waiting mouth.

“Begging for my dick, you even want my shit in your throat,” He watches closely as Asael eagerly takes him into her mouth, swallowing his throbbing length wholeheartedly, showing no resistance or hesitation in pleasuring him.

Her warm cheeks grow hotter at his words, keeping her eyes down as she opens her throat, mouth entirely full as she moans, tip slamming into her mouth each time her lips meet with his abdomen.

“All you needed was something in this pretty ass mouth of yours,” he grunted, using his other hand as he held her hair, positioning her up more as he guides her head down, bobbing her mouth up and down harshly that it causes her eyes to roll back, thighs squeezing together as she feels her clit throb at his tone. She’d never expect herself to be this indulged to a man speaking to her like this, embarrassingly enjoying every second of his dirty talk.

“I’m so…wet…” she admits between airs of breath, watching as that makes him grunt, head falling back as he grunts, “Yeah? You are? Shit, baby,” her lips smacking to his abdomen, taking him all the way down her throat.

He pulls her away from him, holding her up by her hair as his palm smacks along the cheek of her face, seeing the natural beauty of it as her lip liner fades away off her full lips, teary eyed vision lessening of mascara.

Her teeth digs into her lip as she nods, elatedly giggling as he growls at the sight. He grunts, “Yeah, okay,” pulling her up by the ponytail he creates as he scoots his body down, her hips now above his as he takes his other hand to spread her ass cheek, core squelching from the air it collects from the movement. The emptiness she feels is now replaced by the full girth of his dick, Toji mercilessly dropping her down onto his abdomen.

The shakey gasp that leaves her lips as Toji groans with her at the same time, “Ooh, shit. She missed me,” causing Asael to whimper as he spanks her in repetitions.

He’s propping her up to where her feet are along the bed, putting her in an almost squatting position as he puts his muscular arms under her legs, holding her by the thick flesh of her ass before he’s pulls her up slowly, slamming her back down, arousal spewing through the separation of their skin, Asael gasping deeply at the sound.

Silence goes between them as they listen, her eyes falling slightly behind herself as she watches her ass drop devilishly against his hips, wrapping her hand around one of his arms that holds her. Toji’s eyes are locked down, watching as each time he lifts her up, more of her arousal paints against his length.

His eyes flick up to her face, seeing as she can barely keep her eyes open, pouting heavily as she’s barely in control. He tells her gruffly, “Spread your pussy. Gonna go deeper,” guiding her hands to both of her ass cheeks, pulling them farther away from one another. Asael trembles atop of him, hips stuttering as she nods, desperately trying to keep up with him.

He guides her, roughly slamming her hips down to his, Asael now mewling defeatedly, feeling her eyes brimming with tears again as she runs her fingers over his arms, wanting to hold one of his hands.

“Keep going with all that whining shit you were doing earlier,” he tells her, a shockwave being sent along her body as he’s back to spanking her, Asael spreading herself from behind as she whines softly, “You’re so fucking deep, baby.”

“In your stomach?”

She nods her head, no words allowing from her lips as a late gasp shudders from her mouth. Toji tightens his grip on her hips, his fingers digging into her skin even harder as he forces her movements to follow his pace, his eyes never leaving her flushed and pretty face. He can see the way she's struggling to keep herself together, her eyes teary and her body trembling with pleasure.

Her desperation becomes evident in her movements, so he reaches up to intertwine his fingers with hers, gripping her hand tight, grounding her to him.

"Pussy keeps pulling me in,” he groans breathlessly, his eyes locked onto hers as he continues to slam her hips down onto him. He can feel her hand squeezing his, the touch adding to the intimacy of the moment.

"Just like you were made for me," he prods, his voice rough and possessive. “I can tell you’ve never been fucked like this. That’s why you’re so fuckin’ mad all the time.”

“Toji,” her chest shakes as she sobs, taking his hand as she places his fingers within her mouth, needing a way to quiet herself as her eyes roll to the back of her head.

“Just needed a dick to cum on. One to make you cum, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?” He arrogantly repeats.

“Aughhhh—ugh, fuck. Yeah.”

She felt as though she didn’t have any more energy to give, wanting to tap out— she knew that wasn’t happening. A soft gasp leaves her hips as they swiftly switch positions, Asael now against her stomach as her hips are arched within the air of the bed. Toji’s abdomen presses along her back as he hovers over her, eyes rolling to the back of her head, shoving her face along the sheets as she jerks out a breathless curse, fists tightening as he pushes back into her. She feels his lips along the back of her neck, his arms trapping hers beneath his.

She hopes— prays he tires himself out. He takes one hand as he wraps it around her throat from behind, deeply grinding his hips down into her. His lips attach to the side of her neck, fingers clutching her mouth within his hold as she shudders, “Oh fuck,” Toji arrogantly chuckling right beside her ear.

“Pretty ass tattoo, looks like the shit hurt,” he talks, deep voice wracking within her brain as he grunts, “Let me kiss it better,” dirtily making out with her throat, dragging his tongue along the skin nearly up to her ear. Her eyes can’t stay open, feeling as if she’s about to go blind, the pleasure of him smacking his hips directly along her g-spot has her muffling, “Ohhh my god. F—fuck. F—uckk.”

His pace gets faster, his grip on her throat and mouth tightening. He can hear the way she gasps and moans against his hand, the sound muffled and desperate. But he doesn’t let up, he keeps going, pushing her to the edge and then holding her there, keeping her on the brink of ecstasy and pain.

He leans down, his lips against her ear, his voice a dark, possessive growl, “Think this pussy had been waiting for me,” he pulls out, taking his hand as he bobs his tip along her entrance, watching as Asael trembles out a gasp, legs vibrating as she whines, “Gonna cum. S—so close, put it back in.”

He moves his hips against hers, rocking her body and making her whimper and gasp. Her body trembles and shakes, the pleasure and pain becoming too much for her to handle.

“Toji, please. Please.”

“Pussy makes me wanna fall in love,” he grunts, spreading her apart with his own hand, seeing her opening throbbing, gummy pink walls pulling themselves inward as they need his connection.

“Ungh,” she softly groaned, biting her teeth against the pillow, eyes shut tightly as she moaned along the sheets, eyes rolling to the back of her head as he rolled his hips against hers, still not going back inside of her.

“You wanna cum?”

“Yes.”

“Say that shit, then.”

“Wanna fuckin’ cum all over your dick, baby. C—can’t wait,” she nearly feels tears in her eyes.

The evil bastard rumbles a deep chuckle against her body, pulling her hair into his fist as he twists the mane into a ponytail, other hand spreading her opening father as he shoves his dick back inside of her, yanking her hips back with an angle to hit directly to her g-spot. Asael feels elated, a high-pitched giggle leaving her lips as she whines, eyes rolled to the back of her head as her orgasm nearly pushes his length out by the strength of pleasure, her mouth sobbing out half screams, face shoved into the pillow as she releases wildly. He picks her head up as he grunts, still keeping his hips plummeting into her, “Nah. Fuck all that. Cum. Shit feels good, doesn’t it?”

She nods her head, whining, “Yeahhh,” tears dropping from her face, catching his wrist within her palm as he damn near leaves a handprint on her ass, ignoring as his final words to her are, “So fuckin’ polite now. All you needed was to be fucked.”

The chaos of the moment drives him to a brink of insanity. To hear the suction of air spouting from her opening, Asael defeatedly gasping, head turning as her mascara ridden face tiredly moans, it’s euphoria.

His hips stutter as he pulls out with a moan, an unexpected movement from Asael as she quickly turns herself to let him release along her flushed face, her hands wrapped around the base of his length as she sticks her tongue out.

It makes the man halt, his eyebrows raising as she does so.

Both of their heavy breathing fills the room, her shamelessly beautiful face staring up at him with practical stars in her eyes, Toji for once in complete silence as she giggles from his shocked face.

“Shit,” he grunts, “Maybe I was wrong. You are sweet.”

Her eyes scan along his face, a new rise of confidence within her as she shrugs, “Could just be one of my better moods.”

“Better? You’re not in the fuckin’ heavens right now after I tore your ass up?”

Asael shrugs, “Maybe. Maybe not.”

As she continues to giggle, Toji raises his eyebrow. She must’ve forgotten who he was just that quickly. But she’s about to be reminded, a gasp falling from her lips as he twists her hair into his fingers, pulling her eyes up to meet him so she can hear every word.

“Nah, fuck that. Turn over.”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ toji visuals + vibes ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

1K notes · View notes

innorality · 4 days ago

Text

shower thoughts ft.satoru lol

"y-you want me to what?" satoru gulped loudly. "bathe me. here," he watched closely as you grabbed the shower head, handing it to him innocently before laying your naked form in the bathtub. satoru gripped the shower head tightly, examining your body and, shit, he was already getting hard.

you smiled before closing your eyes, muttering a soft, "go on." and as soon as you do, you hear satoru's hand rushing to the faucet, turning the water on. "hold on." he told you, playing around with it to find the perfect temperature for you. when the water was warm enough, he slowly dragged the shower head towards your feet, before moving it up, and up, and up, until he found himself pouring water right onto your chest.

upon that, he found himself staring. the water was perfectly distributed on your chest, streams dripping right around the two globes that interested him the most. he wanted to see them wet, and took the liberty of grabbing one of them and putting them right underneath the shower head.

at the relaxing sensation, you let out a low moan, knowing that would get him going. and you were absolutely right, because as soon as you did, satoru tensed up and his dick twitched in interest—but he kept his composure. his hand, however, did not move an inch.

a few seconds went by in complete silence before you opened your mouth again. "massage them." satoru's eyes widen, pupils migrating towards your face. "seriously?" he swallowed his saliva once more as you nodded, and he did just that. his fingers moved one after the other on your boob, massaging with expertise, making you release low moans after low moans.

suddenly, a light bulb popped up inside his head as he got an idea that he would qualify as wonderful. he moved the shower head away, making you open your eyes in confusion. he changed the temperature a little to make it more lukewarm, and made the stream a bit stronger.

"spread your legs," he ordered, and the tone that he used made you oblige almost immediately. "read somewhere that this felt nice." he placed the shower head a little above your pussy, making the water flow directly onto your clit with a somewhat powerful force, making you gasp and arch in surprise.

"feels good, yeah?" he rubbed your right nipple while going back and forth with the shower head as you called his name over and over again, begging for more.

"I wanna see if I can make you cum like this," his eyes bored into yours, previously focusing on your cunt. "let's test it, yeah?"

455 notes · View notes

mtcloudsworld · 2 months ago

Text

𝐇𝐄'𝐒 𝐒𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐀 𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 | +18, mdni, oral (p receiving), messy, black!fem intended BUT it can be anybody, pudgy!reader, thick!reader, chubby!reader, put that pussy to sleep, pet names: love, baby, I did edit it, but in case of any errors, ignore it :)

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑 | this was originally intended for Red hood but it could honestly be anybody you have in mind. I hope everyone is doing well. Stay safe, remember to drink lots of water and eat. Like, comment and reblog. Enjoy lovebugs!! 🦠🩷

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁

"Mm, you taste so good, love." Laid up underneath him in your white babydoll. Dressed in lingerie, and wrapped in lace and mesh like a present on Christmas day─ it revealed the most sacred parts of your voluptuous physique. Exposed to his body heat, he warms you up like a fireplace as his hands adventure towards your hips. Bracing yourself to the contact of his mouth, it sends shivers down your spine when you feel his tongue lick long stripes up your center. You whined lowly, clinging to the stuffed animal that was on your bed. You bury your face into the plush teddy to muffle your moans. For the sake of those who are sleep, you didn't want to disturb anyone's slumber with your raunchy sounds─ your boyfriend didn't really give a damn but he proceeded to eat you out sloppily anyways.

Careless that he was making a mess, your juices dripped on the side of his face─ enjoying the very meal he missed out on for almost a week. He was relentless, hungry and quenching of thirst, for a taste of you. Popping, smacking sounds filled the room as he latched his mouth to your lower lips. The vibrations sending a tickle to your clit. His hands gripped around the fat of your ass to press you further down. You squealed in surprise. Shooting up in your kneeling position, you looked down at your boyfriend slithering his tongue between your folds. You nearly clenched your legs closed at the weird sensation of his tongue entering your leaking hole and instead of running away from him, you practically sat yourself on his (your) heavenly throne.

"Mmph, baby." He grunts in approval, eyes nearly going cross eyed at how your chunky thighs veiled his head. Loving how you were suffocating him with the very thing he would kill for. It was warm and tight, sticky, lewd and soft. The wetness of your arousal soaked around your inner thighs as he devoured your sweet center. You gripped at the sheets, clenched your eyes shut as you started to rock back and forth. Your breathing grows heavy as you begin to ride his mouth at a moderate speed. Heart eyes rolling and head lulling back, your lips part at the wave of fulfillment overwhelming you.

"Oh, baby, m'gon cum." You moaned, voice quivering a little. He hums in acknowledgement, tapping your thigh for you to quicken your pace. He starts to make out with your cunt, sucking and flicking at your clit till your movement was still. There was a silence that had fallen over the room. Your chest rises and falls once your upper body has met the mattress with a tired huff. Moaning softly, his tongue licks up the mess he had made, your juices dripping along his chin, he sucks you off the rest of the way. Giving your pussy one last kiss, he moves from under you. Turning to grab the towel that was on the floor, he glances over you about to wipe your thighs when he hears soft grunting sounds escape from your lips. He chuckles, realizing he put your ass to sleep.

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃

𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 ©𝐦𝐭𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓

697 notes · View notes

obessedd · 1 month ago

Text

katsuki bakugo¡

- he has a nightmare and can’t sleep without being in your arms.

— KATSUKIS first thought whenever he would have nightmares is to walk towards your dorm, not liking the feeling of waking up with his heart raised, and sweat dripping from his head. luckily you being up studying, you heard a knock on your door, you perked up from your desk, pulling out an earbud looking up at your door hearing that same knock again. getting up placing down your pencil to open it. you thought it was going to be kiri or denki asking for one of your blankets again but was surprised to see your boyfriend?. "kat?." you were taken back by how fast he grabbed you, pulling you into a hug. his grip was tight. almost like he didn't want to let you go?. "hey, what's wrong? why are you shaking?." — "I just..had a nightmare." oh. you sighed moving your hand up to his hair, combing through it with a small smile, "you wanna talk about it baby?." he didn't say anything but nod his head.

apparently it was about what had happened at the hospital. after the fight with shigaraki, some was badly injured as some weren't, however..unfortunately you were one of the people who were put in the hospital. you had a coma for a full two weeks. from overusing your quirk too much in a span of one day put your life at risk which why many teachers including hawks said it was too dangerous for you to fight at the moment but being stubborn you did it anyways. your quirk is blood manipulation, you can manipulate your own blood cells and ever others. from using too much blood over time can put your life at risk, if you were to use too much you could potentially die. that’s what he’s afraid of. In his nightmare you didn't wake up and was pronounced dead. yelling and yelling begging for you to wake up but you didn’t..waking up with sweat dripping from his head, and his heart racing. you hummed after he was done explaining, "kat… I know what happened scared you— it scared everyone, but I promise i'm fine. I'm ok." you mumbled kissing the top of his head as he held you tighter, "I know..but these damn nightmares keep happening." he snarled but sighed, he cares too damn much about you, he loves you, you're literally the love of his life. the thought of ever losing you scared the living hell out of him, his heart couldn't handle all these damn emotions.

you've never seen kat be afraid as he was tonight. It made your heart sink..how long was he having these nightmares for? he kept a firm grip on you as you two were laid together, his arms wrapped around your waist, as you laid on his chest trailing small circles on his stomach. weirdly it calmed him down a little, knowing you're here laid against him. It calmed him down a little. breathing in and out, his heart felt softer, he sighed pinching your waist out of nowhere, jolting up. "the hell was that for?" you scoffed with a frown hearing him grunt looking away from you. "don't scare me like that again..idiot." he muttered and you rolled your eyes with a small smile, "I won't." you chuckled, but he turned to face you, furrowed eyebrows. "i'm serious." when you heard his tone, your face softened more, "kat..it won't happen again. I can swear it to you. plus.. aizawa won't let me train for awhile till i'm fully healed. you have nothing to worry about.." it looked like he had doubt in your words but sighing in defeat he nodded his head believing you. you smiled, "will you be able to sleep now?" you asked and he nodded his head, pulling your body closer to his, fully cuddling.

"with you here.. I can.."

#black reader #anime x black!reader #anime x reader #{ 🖋️} writings #fluff #black writers #mha x reader #mha x black reader #bakugou x black reader #katsuki bakugou #katsuki x you #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x you #bakugo katuski x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #mha bakugou #bakugou x y/n

461 notes · View notes

rockleesnegrowife · 2 months ago

Text

Me when I finish reading the most toe curling, stomach tingling, jaw dropping fanfic and the account is deactivated, they haven't updated the fic, or there's no part 134340

443 notes · View notes

sl33paholics · 10 months ago

Note

Could you write smut of Alucard from Castlevania. Maybe light praise kink and telling the reader how well she's taking him. Definitely have Alucard eat her out and grinding against the mattress while giving head.

You taste incredible

Alucard x fem!reader

Warning(s): smut (eating out), kinks involved (praise kink)

"Just like that, my dear, you're taking me so well."

The long white blonde hair man would say. With a pillow that was placed under your hips, Alucard tilts your pelvis so your feet are resting comfortably on his shoulder blades. Alucard gently pushes up on your abdomen, helping himself expose the clitoris from underneath the clitoral hood. Your legs tighten around him as he lowers himself to kiss down your thigh and slowly inch your knees higher up to make sure the friction is right. Alucard works in silence for a while, then breaks into a grin when he hears you moan. His tongue traces the outer edge of your thighs, before finding your clit again and circling it. You gasp at the jolting sensation.

Alucard is gentle with everything he does. From when you first meet him. From when you first touch his bare skin as you walk around. From when you first kiss. The man's hands move smoothly and easily, as though they've done this before and he knows exactly what to do. The vampire prince wanted to award his princess for being an amazing woman with a fantastic body. Alucard wasn't very good at giving gifts, but he did want to make you happy. So he decided he could show you how much he loved you. Not just through a physical relationship, but by showing the love in your eyes every time you look at him.

You run one of your hands through his hair, feeling the silky strands against your palm. A small groan escapes your lips, and you feel yourself getting wetter with desire.

"Do you like that?" Alucard asks in between nips on your inner thigh, his intoxicating gaze looking up at you as he watched your face contort into a blissful expression, quickly nodding as he went back to work. "You're such a treasure, my love."

Your body tingles all over, goosebumps erupting all over your skin as you let out a low moan and Alucard squeezing your legs tighter, you cohuld feel his fingers work wonders on your swollen clit. Throwing your head back and letting out a loud groan, "You're doing so good, baby, I know you can pull through." You bite your lip when Alucard removes his finger from your clit, giving it gentle kisses. His breath is hot against your skin as he moves back to sucking on your clit, your moans turning louder as Alucard continues to massage your pussy. You writhe under him, "Who’s my beautiful girl?"

"M...m...me~" You moan and clutch onto the bedsheets as you watch Alucard continuing to work on you, his tongue flicking across the tip of your clit as he sucks gently. He doesn't miss a beat. It feels like you're losing your mind. Alucard was driving you crazy with pleasure. All you could think about were his fingertips moving inside of you, and the way he sucked your clit like he owned it, even when he knew it would get hard. It felt too good not to enjoy. You needed more. More stimulation. You needed him.

The rough movements you felt against yourself made you slowly come back to reality, your cloudy thoughts fading away until you realized your fiancé grinding against the bed, his eyes glazed with lust. It was only reasonable for him to pleasure himself while doing the same to his darling.

You squeal and try to sit up straight, pushing away his head, your pussy now drenched and a throbbing mess. You watched as Alucard's pupils dilate, he watches you with hungry eyes, the muscles in his jaw clenching, and the bulge in his boxers making you squirm. It looked like Alucard was ready to explode, but he couldn't restrain himself for any longer.

He moved in front of you, leaning down to capture your mouth in a heated kiss. You kissed him back, wrapping your arms around his neck as your hands caress his shoulders. This was it. This was it all you've been waiting for. You both finally had your moment after months of not being able to. "Mmh, Alucard, please… please…"

Alucard didn't even need to position yourself on the bed. Your pussy soaked and exposed, legs high up and bent, an exhausted expression on your face was all he needed.

"Take it for me, I know you can. I'm going to make sure everyone knows you're mine~"

1K notes · View notes

mysteria157 · 7 months ago

Text

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Black Fem Reader

CW: Profanity, Fluff, Explicit Sexual Content, Missionary, Doggystyle, Fingering, Oral (m! receiving)…

WC: ~10k (grab your snacks)

Summary:

Nanami runs into a problem that every man dreads.

Now, you find yourself navigating the treacherous waters of his bruised ego and growing hysteria, armed with nothing but your unwavering love and a seemingly endless supply of patience, as you try to help him overcome this unexpected hurdle.

Notes: Hello! Trying to get back into the swing of writing again after so many weeks on a break and naturally Nanami is who I gravitate towards. I thought this one shot would be a funny idea, and as someone once told me, I wrote this with “my c*it on the keyboard.”

Please do not ask me for more related to this story. This is just a one-shot of a random idea, please enjoy it for what it is lol. Thank you all for understanding!

Reblogs, likes, or comments are always appreciated! Happy reading!

Dividers: @cafekitsune | Header: made by myself

Masterlist | Ao3 | Twitter |

“Fuck, Kento,” you breathe, fingers digging into the satin of the pillow case beneath your head.

The soft, warm glow of the bedside lamp bathes your intertwined bodies in a honeyed light, casting shadows that dance across your rich brown skin. Nanami’s lips, hot and insistent, trail a path of fire down your neck, pausing to lavish attention on the sensitive hollow of your throat. He drags his teeth along your clavicle, brushes his lips between the skin of your breasts. A breathy moan escapes you as his tongue traces lazy, deliberate circles around an already-sensitive nipple, sending sparks of pleasure racing through your veins.

His hands, strong and sure, yet infinitely gentle, knead the soft flesh behind your knees, coaxing your legs to open wider, allowing him to sink deeper into the welcoming heat of your body. The blunt head of his cock grazes that sweet spot inside you with each measured thrust, and you can’t help but arch your back, silently begging for more.

Your hair, messy from his fingers, frames your face in a splatter of curls, some clinging to the sheen of sweat on your cheeks. The sight of you like this—open, wanting, completely his—nearly steals the breath from his lungs and makes him double down his efforts.

It’s been weeks since you’ve had this. Weeks of Kento stumbling home late from working overtime, collapsing into bed still fully clothed. Weeks of missed connections, family obligations, and movie nights cut short with you both passing out on the couch. But tonight, finally, you have each other, free from the demands of the world outside.

As Nanami moves within you, his honey-wheat hair, usually so perfectly styled, falls in soft, tousled waves across his forehead, clinging to the perspiration that glistens on his brow. The strong line of his jaw is taut with concentration, a muscle jumping beneath the skin in a way that makes your fingers itch to trace its contours. His eyes, normally a cool, observant umber, now burn with a fierce intensity, a volatile mix of desire and something else, something harder to define.

But even as you lose yourself in the rhythm of your lovemaking, in the exquisite slide of skin against skin, you can’t help but notice the weariness etched into the lines of Nanami’s face, the slight tremor in his hands as they map the contours of your body. He’s been working himself to the bone, pushing himself to the brink of exhaustion, and it shows in the tension of his shoulders, the tightness around his eyes. You had tried to get him to sleep when he sagged through the front door, but he was insistent, clawing at your too-big t-shirt, silent and too stubborn to listen to his body as he licked into your hot mouth.

He’s so tired. Mind still running through quarterly reports and half-completed project plans. But he won’t let that deter him. He’s determined to focus—to savor this moment, to lose himself in the intoxicating scent of your skin, to surrender to the tremors that course through him as your fingers ghost up his back. You marvel at the play of muscles beneath his skin, at the flex and release of his broad shoulders with each movement—a reminder of the strength he usually keeps so carefully controlled.

But as he leans in to capture your lips, that traitorous whisper of doubt in his mind grows in volume. That exhaustion that melted away from your touch has retreated to within him, to course through the blood in his veins and manifest again in its own, evil way at the apex of his thighs. Nanami’s movements falter, his rhythm turning erratic, unsure. You feel a change in him, a hesitation that wasn’t there before, and your heart clenches with concern. His brow furrows, his lips pressing into a thin line as he tries to hold onto the moment, to keep the passion burning between you. The confidence that usually radiates from him when you are both between the sheets seems to waver, leaving in its wake a man grappling with an unfamiliar sense of inadequacy.

He doesn’t want to believe it. He refuses to acknowledge the treacherous thought creeping into his mind. His cock, moments ago hard as a rock and pulsing within you, is betraying him. He digs one hand into the pillow beneath your head, fingers tangling in your curls, savoring the sharp gasp you shake out, desperately willing himself to focus on your heat, on your breath ghosting across his face—anything but the waning firmness of his erection.

With a low grunt, he thrusts deeper so there’s no room for his cock to leave you. The movement is sharper than usual, a force that has no trace of his care behind it and it immediately makes you blink through the fog of pleasure in your mind. You notice the change, concern filling you as you take in the tumultuous emotions on his face. His blonde hair falls in thick tufts over his forehead, brushing against the deepening crease between his eyebrows.

“Ken?” Your voice is soft, a gentle caress. You bring a hand to his cheek, and he leans into your touch as if your soft skin might anchor and keep him focused. “Is everything alright?”

Everything is far from alright.

It’s a nightmare scenario that Nanami can’t bring himself to voice. But he knows you feel it. Instead, he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breath coming in harsh, ragged pants against your vanilla skin, his fingers digging almost painfully into the flesh of your hips. He drives his hips deeper, angling upwards, trying desperately to lose himself in your pliant body.

But with his next thrust, the cruel truth becomes undeniable. What was once hard steel is now unbearably soft, slipping out of you as his hips collide with yours. Your gasp mirrors his shock as he jerks his head up to meet your gaze. The mortification in his eyes is palpable, a stark contrast to the passion that burned there mere moments ago.

“Ken, it’s okay—” you begin, but he’s already retreating, both physically and emotionally, his walls slamming back into place, shutting you out. You can practically see him retreating into himself, his shoulders hunching, his jaw clenching with a stubbornness of wounded pride.

“Hey, no, we aren’t doing this,” you insist, voice firm and laced with quiet determination.

You reach for him, your fingers wrapping around a thick wrist, anchoring him to you. You’ve spent years chipping away at his defenses, learning every facet of his being, and you refuse to let him shut you out now over something like this. This isn’t just embarrassment—it’s a fundamental shaking of his self-image, a crack in the foundation of who Nanami believes himself to be. An affliction that every man prays to the gods never finds them.

Limp dick.

You gently pull Nanami back to rest between your thighs, his weight a comforting shield against the cool air of your shared bedroom. Your fingers weave through his hair, feeling the tension thrumming through his body as he settles against you.

“Kento,” you murmur, your voice a low, soothing melody in the quiet room. “Look at me.”

He stills for a heartbeat, two, before raising his head, his eyes meeting yours. In their depths, you see a swirling maelstrom of emotions—frustration, embarrassment, shame. He’s tousled hair and flushed cheeks, an overwhelming exhaustion and stress etched beneath his eyes.

“It’s okay,” you breathe, cradling his face in your hands. Your thumbs trace the high arch of his cheekbones, feeling the heat of his skin. “This happens. It doesn’t change a thing—not how I feel, not how much I love you, none of it.”

Nanami’s jaw clenches under your palms, the muscle pulsing, a physical manifestation of the turmoil brewing within him. His gaze falls, unable to hold yours, as if the weight of his perceived failure is too much to bear. “I should be able to—”

“To what?” you interject, your voice gentle but firm. “To be some infallible sex god?” A soft laugh escapes you, your lips curving into a tender smile. “To never have limp dick?”

Those warm eyes glare at you, not at all amused by your light-hearted but poignantly accurate joke. “Now is not the time for a joke,” he grits out, his voice tight, strained.

“Now is exactly the time for a joke,” you counter, your thumb tracing the slight cracks of his bottom lip. You can sense his next moves, your body attuned to his very soul, feeling his inclination to withdraw, to roll over and brood, to let this momentary setback fester into something more. You tighten your thighs around his waist, refusing to let him drift away. “How long have we been together, Kento?”

“Three years.” His answer is immediate, automatic, a testament to the depth of your bond.

“And in that time, has this ever happened before?”

Your eyes lock—a silent battle of wills, logic against stubborn pride. He understands your point, recognizes the truth in your words, but his stubbornness matches your own. “No,” he admits, the word a reluctant concession.

“You’re human, Kento. Wonderfully, beautifully human, and the sexiest man I’ve ever known. Performance issues or not.”

He scoffs, but you feel his shoulders slacken, his body melting into yours as he exhales, the tension slowly bleeding from his muscles. His arms tighten around you, calloused hands splaying across the small of your back, pulling you flush against him, as if your touch alone could chase away the demons of self-doubt. Those beautiful golden strands tickle your cheeks as he nuzzles closer, his breath warm against your neck.

“Is that so?” he finally murmurs, and you can hear the small smile in his voice, a welcome change from the earlier tension. For as reserved as he is, Nanami preens under any sort of compliments you give him, a chink in his armor of cool composure.

“Mmhmm,” you hum, your hands sliding down to appreciate the firm planes of his back. “It’s a shame, really. You attract too much attention. I’ve been too generous with how long I let you out of the house.”

You feel more than hear his soft chuckle, the vibration rumbling through his chest and into yours. Nanami pulls back slightly, his dark eyes meeting yours. The vulnerability from before hasn’t completely faded, but it’s tempered by a familiar spark of determination kindling in their depths. You don’t know if the subject has completely dropped. But for now, he doesn’t seem to dwell on it, content to focus on you instead.

“Well,” he begins, his voice dropping to that deep, velvety tone that never fails to send shivers cascading down your spine, “I should ensure your satisfaction. Maybe then you’ll extend my hours outside.”

Before you can respond, he’s moving. He sits up on his knees, hot hands wrapping around your waist before yanking your hips closer to him, a delicious show of strength that has your breath catching in your throat. Your giggle of surprise quickly morphs into a gasp as his lips find that sensitive spot just below your ear, tongue sliding against the skin before it trails down the rest of your body, leaving a path of desire that makes you shudder against him.

You expected a period of adjustment, a gradual return to the easy intimacy you and Nanami had always shared. But as time passed, you began to notice a shift, subtle at first, but growing more pronounced with each passing day.

That first sign of something odd presents itself on day three since that night, a quiet Saturday morning that dawns with a gentle golden light filtering through your bedroom curtains. You wake up to find Nanami’s side of the bed empty, the sheets cool to the touch. Puzzled, you pad into the living room, your bare feet silent on the cool hardwood floor, your eyes roaming the space for any sign of him.

Nanami sits at the dining table, surrounded by a veritable fortress of books, their spines forming a colorful barricade around his hunched form. His laptop glows in the morning light, casting his features in a pale blue hue, multiple tabs visible on the screen. He’s hunched over and shirtless, his bare back a canvas of dark moles, constellations you’ve traced countless times with reverent fingers, your lips mapping a path between each celestial point.

As you circle the table, drawing closer to his absorbed form, you’re struck by the intensity of his concentration, the furrow of his brow, the set of his jaw. His fingers fly over the keyboard with a single-minded purpose, a man on a mission, lost in a world of his own making.

“What are you doing up so early?” you ask, running a hand through the short, silky hair at his nape.

He glances up, and the determined glint in his eye catches you off guard. “Research,” he replies simply, as if that single word explains everything.

Curiosity getting the better of you, you lean in to examine the book titles scattered across the table, your brow rising with each passing second:

Male Sexual Health

Nutrition and Libido

Stress Management for Peak Performance

What the—?

A mix of emotions bubbles up inside you—amusement at his determination, concern for his state of mind, a touch of exasperation at his stubbornness. Part of you wants to tease him mercilessly, to watch that adorable flush creep up his neck, to see him squirm under your playful attention. But you bite your tongue, sensing the fragility of the moment, the rawness of his exposed insecurities.

“Ken,” you begin, your voice a delicate balance of understanding and concern, “is this about what happened the other night? I thought we talked about this, baby.”

“We did,” he nods, not looking up from his screen. “And I appreciate your understanding. But I can’t let it happen again. I’m going to fix this.”

There’s so much you want to say, so many reassurances you want to offer. You want to tell him how normal this is, how surprised you are that it hasn’t happened more often given his grueling work schedule. But you bite your tongue, sensing that this is something Nanami needs to process on his own.

“Don’t you think this might be…a bit much?” you try one last time, your fingers tracing soothing patterns on his bare shoulder, careful not to make him feel defensive and push him further into his own head.

“Nothing is too much when it comes to satisfying you.”

And with those words, spoken with such conviction, such raw honesty, your heart swells, a tidal wave of love and affection crashing over you. He won’t be swayed, and there’s no point in trying to argue with him when he’s set on something. You can’t help but sigh fondly, running your fingers through his hair again, your nails gently scratching his scalp in the way you know he loves. He leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment, a low groan of appreciation rumbling from his chest as he guides your fingers to just the right spot.

As Nanami launches into an explanation of the benefits of Ashwagandha root, his fingers running along a line of text in one of the magazines, you can’t help but shake your head affectionately. You love this man, even (or perhaps especially) when he’s being ridiculously over-the-top, his determination to be the best partner he can be, even if it means diving headfirst into a world of herbal remedies and performance-enhancing techniques.

The days slip by, each one blurring into the next, a haze of normalcy tinged with an undercurrent of unease. It’s not until the morning of day ten that the true extent of Nanami’s newfound obsession becomes impossible to ignore.

The soft schick of his razor fills the bathroom, a rhythmic counterpoint to the rush of running water. He stands before the mirror, shirtless, a towel draped over his broad shoulders to catch stray flecks of shaving cream. You watch, transfixed, as he meticulously glides the razor along the sharp line of his jaw, each stroke precise, measured.

You stand beside him, your own morning ritual underway, massaging a rich, creamy lotion into your melanin-kissed skin. Your favorite scent of vanilla fills the air, mingling with the crisp, clean aroma of Nanami’s shaving cream. It’s a familiar dance, this shared moment of grooming, of preparation for the day ahead.

But as you reach for your leave-in, your eyes catch on something new, something that sends a jolt of surprise through your system. There, amidst the clutter of skincare products and toiletries, sits a new addition to the growing collection of bottles on the counter. The mustard-yellow label boldly proclaims: “Maca Root: For Vitality and Stamina”.

“Ken?” you murmur, plucking the bottle from the counter, your eyebrows dipping in confusion. “What’s this?”

Nanami’s eyes flick to yours in the mirror, his hand pausing mid-stroke, the razor hovering just above his skin. “Just a supplement,” he evades, his voice carefully neutral, a forced casualness he uses to avoid arguments he won’t win that always sets your teeth on edge. “For…overall health.”

You turn the bottle in your hands, eyebrow arching higher in disbelief with each word you read as you take in the bold, almost aggressive labeling. Your gaze darts to the other bottles littering the counter, a growing sense of unease settling in the pit of your stomach as you take them in for the first time.

“Uh-huh. And the Zinc? The Ginseng? The…” you squint at another label, your voice dripping with skepticism, “L-arginine? All for ‘overall health’ too?”

He clears his throat, his gaze darting away from yours, focusing intently on his reflection as he studiously avoids your probing stare. “That’s right.”

“Baby—” you begin, but he cuts you off, setting down his razor with a definitive clink and shutting the water off, turning to face you fully.

The sight of him, bare-chested and gleaming under the harsh fluorescent light, sends a bolt of desire through you, a hunger that’s been left unsatiated for far too long. The thick cords of muscle that stretch across his chest and arms, the taut planes of his abdomen, the trail of dark blonde hair that disappears beneath the low-slung waistband of his sweatpants—it’s exquisite torture, a feast for your senses after days of famine.

But there’s a tension in the set of his shoulders, a skittishness in his gaze that sets off warning bells in your head.

“It’s the research I’ve been doing,” he admits, almost apologetic as he pulls the towel from his shoulders, wiping away the last traces of shaving cream from his jaw. “From what I’ve read, these have proven benefits for…various aspects of wellbeing.”

He seems almost afraid, as if he’s bracing himself for your reaction, steeling himself against the inevitability of your displeasure. Fortunately for him, the words are like a match to kindling, a spark that ignites a flame of mischief in your belly. You step closer, your hands coming up to rest on his chest, the supplement bottle forgotten on the counter behind you.

“Various aspects, huh?” you tease, your voice dropping to a sultry whisper. This moment—when he smells of fresh soap, shaving cream, and mint toothpaste before cologne masks his natural scent—is one of many favorites. It’s one of the most arousing forms of Nanami Kento before he slides on his work clothes and gives the world a straight face and measured words. “Care to demonstrate some of these benefits?”

Your fingertips trace the muscles of his chest, slide along his skin with more purpose, your nails dragging lightly over his nipples, a teasing hint of pain that you know drives him wild. He inhales sharply, his muscles tensing beneath your hands, his jaw clenched tight, a reaction that’s as familiar to you as your own heartbeat.

For a moment, you think you have him, that he’ll give in to the desire that darkens his eyes, that he’ll roughly bunch your skirt up around your waist, hike your legs up and around him and make the bathroom mirror knock against your back until you’re gasping out his name as you tighten around his cock.

But then he’s stepping back, his hands coming up to gently catch your wrists, pulling your hands away from his skin.

“We’ll be late for work,” voice strained, conveying his own battling desire. He brings your hands to his lips, pressing a chaste kiss to the delicate skin of your wrists, your forehead, your mouth.“Let me make you breakfast instead.”

And then he’s gone, slipping past you and out of the bathroom, leaving you standing alone, frustration and disappointment warring in your chest. Your gaze falls on the supplement bottles, a physical manifestation of his growing hysteria, and for a moment, you’re seized by the urge to sweep them all into the trash, to rid your home of these unwelcome interlopers.

But you resist, drawing in a deep, steadying breath, your fingers pinching the bridge of your nose as you silently repeat the mantra that’s become your lifeline in recent days: I love him. I love him. I love him.

But as you square your shoulders and stalk out of the bathroom to start your day, you can’t shake the feeling that something’s got to give, that this tenuous balance can’t hold forever.

Day seventeen. It feels like an eternity, a cruel and unusual punishment for a crime you didn’t commit. You’re a prisoner in your own home, trapped in a world where the man you love is just out of reach, tantalizingly close but impossibly distant.

Seventeen days too long when you live with a man as loving, kind, and attentive as Nanami Kento. Seventeen excruciating days since the concept of getting dicked down was a given, a pleasure you could indulge in whenever the mood struck. Now, you’re reduced to grasping at sloppy seconds, thirds, fourths—anything for a crumb of cock, a fleeting taste of the intimacy you crave.

You’ve become a connoisseur of stolen moments, of fleeting glances and brushing touches that once held the promise of so much more. A shared look in the bathroom mirror that used to lead to soapy sex in the shower. The brush of his hand against the small of your back as you pass in the hallway, a touch that used to lead to him pulling you flush against his body, his lips claiming yours in a searing kiss. Now, you’re like an addict, desperately chasing the ghost of a high, sucking at nicotine-stained fingers for the essence of a hit.

In a last-ditch effort to reignite the spark to show him just how much he’s overreacting, you’ve taken to wearing his shirts around the house. You leave the top buttons undone, a tantalizing glimpse of cleavage on display, the hem riding high on your thighs to reveal the faint marks that he likes to lick against. But each night when you reach for him, Nanami simply presses a tender kiss to your forehead, his lips trailing a path down your body in a reverent exploration, worshiping you with his mouth and fingers until you’re trembling and spent.

But never with his cock. Never with the part of him you crave most, the part that once made you feel so deliciously full, so utterly claimed.

You feel dramatic when you think about it because it always brings tears to your eyes, hot and stinging with frustration and despair. Like you’re a petulant toddler wanting a cookie that’s been sitting on the counter all morning.

You’ve never been one to let a man dictate your life, to let his whims and insecurities hold sway over your own desires. But Nanami has always been a man to put you above and beyond anything before himself. If the women of the world knew what they were missing, if they could experience even a fraction of the pleasure Nanami Kento can provide, they’d be falling to their knees in supplication, just like you.

How far you’ve fallen.

And how little you care.

Tonight, you vow, will be different. You slip into the silk nightgown he loves, the one that clings to your every curve like a second skin, the baby blue fabric whispering against your heated flesh as you step out of the bathroom. Your heart races with anticipation, your body thrumming with need as you picture his reaction, the way his eyes will darken with desire, the way he’ll pull you into his arms and finally, finally give you what you both so desperately need.

But the bedroom is empty, the sheets still neatly made, mocking you with their pristine perfection. You frown, a sense of unease settling in the pit of your stomach as you pad down the hallway, your bare feet whispering against the cool hardwood. As you approach the kitchen, a pungent, almost medicinal smell hits your senses, growing stronger with each step, mingling with the whir of a blender.

You round the corner and freeze, taking in the scene before you. Nanami stands at the kitchen counter, surrounded by an alchemist’s array of strange-looking roots and powders. The blender in front of him churns away, filled with a murky-greenish-brown liquid that looks more like something out of a horror movie than anything fit for human consumption.

“What are you doing?” you ask, your voice thin and strained, confusion and exasperation warring for dominance in your tone.

He looks up, startled, nearly knocking over a jar of what looks like dried herbs. “It’s…a health shake.”

You want to argue, to shake his shoulders and scream that this has gone too far, that he’s lost sight of what really matters in his quest for some unattainable ideal. But the determination in his eyes, the set of his jaw, the way he grimaces as he chokes down a sip of the vile concoction—it all speaks to a desperation that breaks your heart even as it fuels your frustration.

As he takes another sip, nose twisted to the side to avoid the foul smell, his eyes catch your frame. They roam over you, taking in the nightgown, giving you the exact reaction you pictured before coming out here.

For a moment, you see that flicker of desire in his eyes that you’ve been craving.

But then it’s gone, replaced by something that looks suspiciously like guilt.

“I’ll come to bed soon,” he promises, grimacing through another sip of his vile brew. “Get some rest. I know today was rough at work.”

His words are like a knife to your gut, a reminder of the distance that’s grown between you, the way his obsession has consumed him so completely that he can’t even see the pain it’s causing you both.

All of this, because of one night.

You press your toes into the hardwood, your fingers twisting in the hem of your nightgown as you fight back the tears that burn the corners of your eyes.

“You…you don’t want to come to bed with me?” you whisper, hating the way your voice breaks, the way the hope that once buoyed your words has been replaced by a hollow, aching despair and annoyance.

“I want to finish this and catch up on a few things for work before I come to bed.” His gaze slides away from yours, unable to meet the hurt and frustration in your eyes. Unable to see just how in his head he has become with all of this. “It’ll be a little while. Sleep for me? Please?”

The rejection, however gentle, leaves you feeling exposed and bereft, a physical blow to your gut. You nod, not trusting yourself to speak anymore, and turn to head back to the bedroom, your vision blurring.

There’s so much more to this than just you wanting to have sex. You want to be supportive, to give him time and space to work through whatever this is. But you hate just how disillusioned he has become. His gaze and his touch are tainted now—held back by shame and fear of disappointing you. And you can’t help but feel like this is getting more out of control instead of getting better.

You love him, more than anything. But right now, listening to the distant sounds of him choking down that awful-smelling shake, you’ve never felt further apart.

It all comes to a head on day twenty-five. The day dawns like any other, the sun’s warm rays filtering through the windows of your shared apartment, casting a soft glow on the well-worn furniture and the mementos of your life together. It’s your day off, a rare respite from the chaos of the work week, and you find yourself moving through the space with a sense of purpose, straightening and cleaning, trying to bring order to the disarray that seems to mirror the state of certain parts of your relationship.

As you work, your mind wanders, replaying the events of the past month like a melancholy film reel. The distance, the tension, the way Nanami has been pulling away from you, retreating into himself in a desperate attempt to fix what he perceives as a fundamental flaw in his being. Insisting that he won’t let this happen again even though he won’t actually fuck you.

It’s a weight that’s been bearing down on you both, a shadow that’s slowly suffocating the light and love that once filled every corner of your lives.

Your feet carry you to the bedroom, to the closet you share. As you reach for Nanami’s side, intent on straightening his crisp dress shirts, your hand brushes against something unfamiliar, tucked away in the shadows. Curiosity piqued, you pull it out, revealing a plain, unmarked brown box.

For a moment, your heart stutters in your chest, a cold fear gripping your insides as you lift the lid, praying that it’s nothing that would point your partner in the direction of infidelity. But no, you shake your head, banishing the thought before it can fully form. Nanami would never betray you, never seek solace in the arms of another because there’s only has and ever been you.

It makes complete sense in your head, but lately—

You yank open the lid and gape.

Inside, nestled among crumpled tissue paper, are items you never expected to find in Nanami’s possession. Your fingers tremble slightly as you examine them—a cylindrical pump, clear save for the rubber base, and an orange prescription bottle, its label stark against the translucent plastic.

You stare at the objects, your mind whirling with a chaotic storm of emotions. Shock, disbelief, a rising tide of frustration and despair. This isn’t just Nanami being health-conscious anymore, not just a passing phase or a well-intentioned attempt at self-improvement. This is something deeper, something more desperate, a manifestation of the fear and inadequacy that’s been eating away at him since that fateful night.

Carefully, you replace the items, your movements mechanical, your thoughts a jumbled mess. A part of you wants to laugh, to find the absurdity in the situation, to release the tension that’s been building in your chest like a pressure cooker. But you can’t bring yourself to even stifle a giggle, the weight of your worry too heavy.

You sink down onto the bed, the cool sheets soothing the heat of your legs, and draw in a deep, shuddering breath. The weeks of distance, avoidance, the way Nanami has been retreating further and further into himself, straying more and more from reason. There’s so much more to your relationship than just sex, but it’s a big part, a well-practiced part that you both can be your rawest selves during.

But all of this is a spiral that’s slowly dragging you both down, a vortex of unspoken fears and mounting frustrations on both ends.

And in that moment, surrounded by the remnants of your shared life in your apartment, the photos and trinkets that chronicle your love story, you know that something has to give. And it looks like you’ll have to take matters into your own hands. This ends today.

Tonight, when Nanami gets home, you’ll address this head-on. No more dancing around the issue, no more swallowing your grievances in the name of patience and nonexistent understanding. It’s time to remind him of who he is, of the man you fell in love with, the man who’s always been more than enough for you.

The sound of the front door opening pulls you from your thoughts, the soft shuffle of Nanami’s footsteps echoing down the hallway. “Love, I’m home,” he calls out, his voice weary but warm, a balm to your frayed nerves.

He appears in the doorway, his tie loosened, speckled black on yellow draped over his shoulders, the top buttons of his blue shirt undone. His glasses are gone, discarded in his haste to shed the trappings of the office, to leave the stresses of the day behind. “Look at you,” he murmurs, his eyes softening as they land on you, a reverent smile playing at the corners of his lips. “So beautiful.”

Your heart flutters in your chest at his words, at the love and adoration that shines in his gaze, even though you’re in a ratty t-shirt and shorts, your curls thrown into a careless and messy bun.

“You always speak as if it’s the first time you’ve ever seen me,” you tease, tilting your head back to accept his kiss, a chaste press of his lips that nonetheless ignites a spark of longing in your core.

“Because it’s true,” he replies simply, his fingers brushing a stray curl behind your ear. “I’m going to shower.” He sounds despondent, unbelievably ragged with the weight of the day clinging to him like a second skin.

“Rough day?”

“A very rough day, my love,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair, disrupting the sharp part that he makes every morning. He reaches a hand out to you, an invitation, a plea for your company. “Join me?”

The bathroom is a sanctuary of steam and heat, the air thick with the mingled scents of your body washes—cucumber melon and sandalwood. You perch on the counter, a fluffy towel wrapped around your body, watching as Nanami goes through his post-shower routine, his movements methodical, almost meditative.

Water droplets cling to his skin, tracing tantalizing paths down the planes of his chest, the ridges of his abs. Your mouth goes dry at the sight, your fingers itching to follow those rivulets, to map the contours of his body with your lips and tongue.

“Let me,” you murmur, your voice husky with repressed longing. Your legs spread, the open lapels of your towel exposing a creamy brown thigh that Nanami’s eyes flicker to before he meets your gaze. You reach for him, pulling closer until he’s standing between your parted thighs, the heat of his waist seeping through the thin barrier of your towel.

With gentle fingers, you work through the rest of his skincare routine—toner, serum, smoothing eye cream over the delicate skin beneath his lashes. The domesticity of the moment, the intimacy of caring for him like this in whatever way you can, it’s a way to show him that you’re here—that you’re not going anywhere, no matter how lost he may feel.

Your fingertips glide over his skin, applying the last of the face cream with gentle circular motions. As you finish, your hands move to his damp hair, brushing the strands away from his forehead. The strong line of his jaw, the curve of his lips, the subtle crinkles at the corners of his eyes that crease faintly when he smiles.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him closer, a soft smile playing on your lips. Nanami’s hands come to rest on your waist, his thumbs tracing small circles on your towel-covered skin.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, thickly. His eyes, those warm pools of mahogany, are soft with gratitude and affection.

“Always,” you whisper back, your heart swelling with love for this man.

Nanami leans in, pressing his lips to yours in a gentle kiss. It’s meant to be a simple gesture of gratitude, but something shifts in the air around you. Whether it’s the intimacy of you both so close or the heat on your skin—the kiss deepens, slow and exploratory, as if you’re rediscovering each other after a long absence.

Your fingers thread through his damp hair, tangling in the strands as his hands tighten on your waist. Your tongue slides along his bottom lip, tasting the coffee he must have had on the way home, the hint of want that he wants to crumble into. He returns with equal fervor, pressing closer to you, sliding his tongue against yours, shivering from the soft moan that shakes from your wet lips when you both finally break apart. A gossamer thread of saliva connects you before he pecks your lips one last time. Nanami’s chest rises and falls deeply, coiled masculinity oozing from his pores, tangling with the downy hairs on his chest.

“Kento,” you breathe, your voice barely above a whisper, “we…we need to talk about what’s been going on.”

Your hands train down his chest as you speak, mapping the familiar terrain of his body. Beneath your fingertips, his heart thunders like a trapped bird, betraying the melting calm facade he’s trying to maintain. The defined muscles of his abdomen twitch under your touch, a visceral reaction he can’t control.

“The magazines, the supplements, the smoothies,” you continue, gentle but firm. “This has gone too far. One off night, Kento. That’s all it was. Yet here you are, acting like you’re broken, like every moment we’ve shared before was somehow lacking.”

Nanami tenses, his body coiling like a spring beneath your hands. But you’re not letting him retreat—not like that night—and certainly not right now. Your legs wrap around his waist, the gap of your towel widening as you yank him closer, anchoring him to you, skin to skin.

“You think that I would look at you differently?” you murmur, catching his distressed eyes every time they try to evade your gaze, willing him to understand. “Think I would think of you as a failure? You like logic, Kento and I’m telling you the facts. You were tired, case closed.”

“But I—” he starts, his voice rough with emotion, eyes narrowing in frustration as he tries to defend himself. You silence him with a thumb to the plump skin of his bottom lip, tracing the divots of soft, pink flesh.

“You’re the healthiest man I know, Ken.” Your other hand drifts lower, brushing through the trail of dark golden hair that disappears beneath his towel. “You take such good care of us. And you never, ever fail to satisfy me.”

His breath catches as your fingers ghost over his hipbones, alternating between soft cotton and the sharp cut of his skin. “One night doesn’t change that,” you whisper, the hand on his face sliding to card through his hair, you lean in to press your lips to the strong line of his jaw. His fingers dig into your waist from your touch, Adams apple bobbing against your gliding lips as he swallows the burning desire that’s slowly searing him from the inside out. “It doesn’t make you any less amazing, any less desirable.”

You pull back, meeting his eyes. In their warm depths, you see a swirling mix of vulnerability that makes your heartache.

“I just…I don’t want to disappoint you again. While I know that you don’t care, being unable to provide for you fully is something that I never wanted to experience.” The confession is thick in the air, sloshing with what remains of the steam from the shower, coating your skin.

“Oh, Kento,” you sigh, pressing your forehead to his. The scent of his skin—clean soap and something uniquely him—envelops you, offers that blanket of protection that you couldn’t imagine going away. “The only thing disappointing me is how you’ve been pulling away. I’m tired of you feeling inadequate when you’re anything but.”

You pause, weighing the options in your head before you take a bounding leap, throwing care to the wind. Slowly, deliberately, you slide off the counter, your body brushing against his as you descend. The cool tile of the bathroom floor contrasts sharply with the heat radiating from your skin.

Kneeling before him, you look up, your gaze never leaving his. Hands slide up thick thighs, the hair on his legs brushing against your fingertips as you travel further toward the rigid heat of where you need him most. The hitch in his breath is faint, almost nonexistent when your fingers toy with the towel’s edge around his waist. You only wait a moment, three seconds too many as your hand undoes the tight knot and the towel pools at his feet and your knees on the floor.

He’s just as he always is—thick and heavy from your proximity alone, hard and filled with the blood that pumps wildly in his veins. When you wrap your hand around him, the heft of his cock makes your cunt squeeze. You know exactly what it feels like to have the most intimate part of him carving out your insides, and god do you need it right now.

You give only one stroke and the effect is instant; Nanami hisses, fingers flexing at his sides, extending and then curling in a fist as a means to keep his hands to himself, the head of his mushroom tip red and prickles with a thick gathering of precum. Just the sight makes your mouth water.

“I found those things in your closet, you know,” you purr softly, stroking him at an excruciating pace. “You actually think you need something like that, baby?”

A flush creeps up Nanami’s neck, blooming across his cheeks in rushing embarrassment even though his pupils are dilated from the sight of you on your knees. He opens his mouth to speak, fumbling for words that choke around another hitch with your next stroke.

“You don’t feel like you would need something like that.” And you don’t wait a second longer, opening your mouth, dragging the flat of your tongue up the backside of his cock. Each taste bud slides against rigid bumps of veins, gathering with more spit as he groans from your attention. You offer a gentle kiss to his tip, licking the salty taste of his precum from your lips. “You sure don’t taste like you would need something like that.”

The rise and fall of his chest is quickly leaving the pace of steady, his eyes locked on you and jaw flexing with growing desperation. You squeeze his cock on an upward stroke, your own body beginning to heat up just from watching him fall apart.

“Look at you now,” you tease, widening the gap between your knees, the heat between your legs radiating against your ankles. “You don’t look like you need help. Responding so beautifully to me. Not a hint of hesitation.”

The velvety hardness of him in your palm twitches from your words, hard steel that’s blazing hot, and just the sight of him above you is more than enough for a whine to build in your belly, an innate urge to have any part of him inside of you.

Nanami’s eyes flutter, long lashes casting shadows on his cheekbones as you lean in. When you finally take him into your mouth, your name falls from his lips like a prayer, brown eyes rolling halfway to the back of his head, eyebrows furrowing in equal confusion and pleasure.

You’re too eager to give him time to adjust—tongue swirling around the crown of his head and softening underneath him before building a nice, slobbery rhythm. In and out, in and out. Every stroke of your mouth around his cock makes your mouth water even more and your body relax, the dig of the tile on your knees forgotten.

“Fuck,” he pants, the rare curse slipping from his lips as one hand comes to rest gently on the back of your head. You hum in appreciation—in encouragement—building his confidence to squeeze the curly strands. The vibration of your hum of attention causes Nanami’s hips to buck involuntarily and you let your throat relax without thinking, let him hit the back before you swallow around him. “I-” he bites his lip, groaning from deep in his chest.

The heat of the bathroom is suffocating, your neck covered in curls prickling with sweat, sliding down your clavicle and onto the towel around your breasts that’s quickly loosening. Or maybe it’s your own body burning from the inside out, your blood pounding and surging to your core, swelling with arousal that leaks from you without even touching yourself.

And you’re dripping. The hand not at the base of him—stroking what you can’t swallow—reaches between your thighs, rubbing a clit that’s sopping wet with slick that drips between your fingers and onto the tile floor.

It doesn’t take long for that familiar ache to build in your jaw, a growing reminder of the thick cock between your mouth. But his throaty moans keep you going, keep your cunt pulsing and squeezing around the two fingers that quickly slide inside of you.

Nanami’s eyes, dark with desire, take you in—your messy hand twisting at the base of his cock, the hint of saliva on your chin, the prickle of tears at the corners of your eyes from the way he keeps hitting the back of your throat. Only he gets to see you like this. Only he gets to be with someone who will stop at nothing to make him feel supported and loved over something as trivial as a night of bad luck.

“I…you’re…” he gasps, unable to complete his thoughts when you moan around him. “Please just—just keep…don’t stop…don’t—”

As the tension builds, Nanami’s control begins to slip. His thrusts lose their measured control, the hands in your hair tighten, the quick breath from his mouth becomes tight as he bares his teeth and fucks your mouth. His abs are glistening with sweat, tight and flexing as he fights to stay sane.

You’re ready to burst from the seams, pleasure coiling at the base of your spine with each curl of your fingers inside of you, moans tight and sporadic in a familiar sign of your impending orgasm.

It’s when his eyes catch you fingering yourself that his control snaps in half, setting him off. He’s grabbing at you, yanking you from your knees with a strength that shocks you, your towel finally falling off your body and exposing you to the heat of the bathroom. Before you can protest, Nanami moves in a flourish, the last threads of his control dissolving at the shocked but excited gasp that leaves your lips.

In one fluid motion, he spins you around to face the bathroom mirror. Your breath catches at the sight of you both—flushed, desire-drunk, tanned and freckled muscles pressed against your back. His eyes meet yours in the reflection, a primal hunger burning in their depths, black eating away the warm brown.

The press of his cock against your lower back makes you arch your back, leaning over the counter without a second thought, taking him in through the mirror. His hands roam over your body with renewed confidence, cupping the heaviness of your breasts, sliding down tiger-striped brown skin to grip your hips. His eyes trail over the mess of curls on your sweaty back, the curve of your ass, the glistening of your cunt as it catches in the bathroom light.

He looks focused, almost angry—determined to make sure he does exactly what he’s supposed to do. Your body shivers in anticipation. This is the Nanami you’ve been missing—strong, confident, and utterly, deliciously yours.

Without preamble, you part your legs more, opening yourself up to his leering gaze as he watches you slide two fingers through your sopping folds. “I need you,” you whisper, your other hand kneading the flesh of a breast, pinching the nipple to make you arch your back more into him.

He presses forward at the sound of your voice, a beacon for him to bring you whatever you desire. “You have me.”

You feel him, hot and hard against you, and you can’t stifle the moan that escapes you. “All of you Kento,” you whimper, pushing back against him and stroking your clit faster, your slick sliding down your fingers to the center of your palm. “No more holding back, no more doubts. Show me how much you want me.”

In the mirror, the trepidation in his eyes, the worry between his brows. The disappointment from that night is surely playing in his head, teasing him evilly that he will never be able to make love to you again. But you won’t let him feel that way again, you’ll never let him feel inadequate. So you turn slightly to reach behind you, smooth a hand up the side of his face, caressing his jaw, angling your head to the side to kiss him softly. “You’re perfect,” you breathe, the words barely a whisper between you both, the perfect combination to relax the subtle tension in his shoulders. “So perfect for me, Kento.”

He releases a shaky exhale against your lips from your words, the vibration traveling through your body where you’re pressed together. With one hand braced on your waist, the other guiding himself, his eyes not leaving yours, Nanami pushes into you slowly. Finally. Twenty-five days too late and the feeling of completeness, of absolute rightness, is overwhelming. It’s as if a missing piece of you has been slotted back into place.

You whimper, panting into his mouth, sliding your lips messily against his. Your body stretches to accommodate him, a delicious burn that makes your toes curl and your cunt pulse around him.

“Oh fuck, Kento,” you keen, “you’re so fucking big—fill me so well—” His hips snap forward, cutting you off, a sharp cry punching from your lungs.

“I-I shouldn’t have—” he pants against your lips, ready to apologize from the force but you don’t let him finish.

“Yes,” you encourage, your voice breathy from the delicious zing of pleasure that throbs between your legs. “You feel amazing, Ken. So perfect.”

He shivers from your words and starts a slow, almost tentative rhythm. But your continued praise spurs him on. His thrusts become more confident, more forceful, driving you both higher in the stifling heat of your bathroom.

The room fills with the sounds of sex—the slick smack of skin on skin, breathless moans from his full lips, whispered praises from your mouth.

“So good,” you moan softly. “You feel so good inside me.” The hand on your clit resumes its pace, wanting Nanami to be fully immersed in focusing so he can get past this terrible roadblock in his mind.

“More,” he demands, kissing you deeply, the side of your jaw, nibbling your ear, begging you silently for more love and praise. “I-I have to know I’m doing well. That I’m making you feel good—"

“You are,” you gasp, his name a prayer on your lips as he hits that spot deep inside you that makes white spots blot the edges of your vision. “You are—you are, Kento—shit fuck me harder. Give it to me.”

He bends to your will immediately, the pull of your voice—of your demands as easy as breathing, and he’ll give whatever it takes to make sure he can lay everything at your feet. “Fuck,” he groans, digging his fingers into the meat behind your knee, yanking it up onto the counter and you’re opening more, wider for him to slide in further.

It’s messy and animalistic, a building of sweat between your sliding bodies, a gradual intensifying thrum between your legs with each smack of his balls against you. Your body jerks with each thrust, pleasure scratching down your skin with sharp nails as your mind grows hazy, mouth falling open as the tip of his cock kisses that sweet spot inside of you, over and over and over with each inward stroke. The hand on your clit flies up to grab the sweaty porcelain of the sink in front of you, fingernails digging into the rubbery sealant along the sides. The other hand reaches back to tangle your fingers in his hair.

You’ve gone almost a month without him in the most primal way and your body is struggling to keep up. Your lungs struggle to pull in enough air, your slick-coated fingers slip against the sink, your hips burn from the open angle of one leg up on the counter.

But you can’t bring it in yourself to care, too deep in bliss to worry about your wellbeing, the pressure at the base of your spine building and building, molten pleasure bubbling in your gut as you feel yourself teetering on the edge.

“That’s it, baby,” you gasp as you both climb together, meeting his thrusts as the tension coils tighter in your core. “You’re so strong. Love me so well. Fuck me so well.” Nanami groans harshly, shivering from your praise, reaching down to stroke your neglected clit, and you tense around him, choking at the pleasure that wraps around your throat, your cunt pulsing as it tries to swallow his cock and never let it leave.

You watch in the mirror as Nanami loses himself in the moment, all his doubts and insecurities forgotten. His face is a mask of pleasure and concentration, his body moving with a grace and power that takes your breath away. His hips falter, stuttering briefly to signal his match of mounting pleasure. He leans over you, his face in the crease of your neck, body bowing over to make you press further into the counter, teeth grazing your skin as he groans and pants against you with feral need.

He presses his fingers harder against your clit, rubs with a practiced motion and you’re tensing against the counter, scrambling for purchase on the sink as high-pitched keens shake from your throat. “Fuck right there, Kentooo,” you moan tightly. He moans harshly into the skin of your neck, relishing in the way your hot and wet walls tighten around him, doubling down, the fingers on your waist digging crescent moons into your skin. “Make me cum. Oh fuck, make me cum pleasepleaseplease—”

The hand in his hair tightens around silky strands, your body tenses up, your nose scrunching, pleasure pulsing and building in your cunt as you climb and climb and climb until you shatter.

A cry of his name, loud and primal, rips from your throat as your orgasm crashes over you. Ecstasy floods your system in overwhelming waves, each one threatening to pull you under. Tears gather in the corners of your tightly shut eyes, born from the sheer intensity of your release.

And like always, your pulsing walls are the final push Nanami needs. He thrusts into you harshly with deep punctuating strokes until his balls draw tight, fingers digging deeper, a deep, guttural groan shaking from his body as he finally climbs up that wall of shame and follows you over the edge, his release pulsing hot and deep inside you as your body continues to shudder with aftershocks.

Nanami doesn’t have the energy to pull out, collapsing onto you without grace. The cool counter against your cheek is a balm for your burning skin. As you both come down from your high, trembling and panting, you stroke his scalp with the hand still twisted in his sweaty hair, fading spots behind closed eyelids painting your vision.

After a few moments, Nanami stirs, pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder before carefully withdrawing from your body. You whimper at the loss, but he soothes you with another soft kiss on your temple. You hear the sound of running water, the tub filling slowly as Nanami retrieves a warm, damp washcloth.

With tender care, he cleans you up, the soft cloth gliding over your sensitive skin. His touch is reverent, worshipful, as if he’s handling something precious beyond measure, and you melt further onto the counter. Once you’re clean, he guides your leg down from the counter, massaging the muscles of your hips and thighs to ease any lingering tension.

You let him lead you to the tub, sighing in bliss as you sink in the hot, soothing water. Nanami climbs in behind you, pulling you back against his chest as he settles you between his legs. The heat seeps into your aching muscles, the steam smelling faintly of lavender, the gentle lapping of the water against your skin a soothing lullaby.

For a long moment, you simply rest together, your head tipped back on his shoulder, his arms wrapped securely around your waist as a thumb strokes the skin. The bathroom is quiet, save for the occasional drip of the faucet and your slow, even breathing.

Your mind drifts to the vulnerability you’ve witnessed in Nanami, the raw, unguarded moments he’s bared his deepest fears and insecurities. And only you will be the one to see that. You’ll be the only one to build him back up when he’s stripped down, to remind him of his worth, to love through every storm. Even storms that are as weak and barely damaging as limp dick.

“Thank you,” he finally speaks, rich voice vibrating against your skin, filling you with warmth from the inside out. He nuzzles his nose into your hair, inhaling deeply as if to memorize the smell of your leave-in. “For being patient with me…for being supportive…” You feel the tension drain from his body as he exhales, slowly, as if he’s releasing the last of his worries into the steam-filled air. “I love you. Deeply.”

You smile softly to yourself at the declaration and turn your head to meet his gaze, your eyes sparkling with a mix of adoration and mischief.

“This wasn’t an easy assignment you know,” you tease, your voice lighthearted even as emotion threatens to overwhelm you. “I expect payment for my unwavering devotion.”

Nanami’s eyes, hazy with post-orgasmic bliss, roll playfully, a smile tugging the edges of his lips. “What’s my bill?”

"Moissanite,” you declare matter-of-factly, nestling back against his broad chest with a contented sigh. “The carats are up to you, but—“

“A gold band,” Nanami interjects, warm with affection and certainty. “Emerald cut. I have it memorized, my love.”

He punctuates his words with a tender kiss to your temple, his arms tightening around you as if he never wants to let go. Your heart flutters wildly in your chest, a kaleidoscope of butterflies set free by his words.

“The box in the closet? Throw the penis pump and the Viagra in the trash,” you add, playfully jabbing your elbow into his side. “You won’t be needing those anymore.”

Nanami’s laughter rumbles through you, a deep, satisfying sound that fills the room and washes over your skin like a physical caress. “And if I want to be prepared, just in case?” he counters, his tone light and teasing.

“You’re 28, not 50,” you remind him, your own laughter mingling with his.

“Humor me.”

“I guess I could gather up all the magazines, powders, supplements, and various “aids” and present them to you in a nice box for you to use one day. Of course, you’d be single, so I’m not sure what good they’d do you then.”

Nanami’s body shakes with mirth, his breath puffing warm and sweet against your hair. “In the trash they go.”

You hum in agreement, an eyebrow raised before you tilt your chin. And like always, because you never have to ask, Nanami obliges, his lips slanting over yours in a slow, deep caress that steals your breath and fills your heart all at once.

Thanks for reading!

776 notes · View notes

luvinghanni · 7 months ago

Text

────୨ৎ──────୨ৎ──────୨ৎ────

!Ex-HusbandToji! who insists on flirting with you by the door whenever he gets the chance to at your weekly Megumi drop-offs.

!Ex-HusbandToji! who brings you a fresh bouquet of your favourite flowers every time he drops off your son at yours, his iconic sickeningly sweet smile plastered on his face as he presents them to you. Despite your eye rolls and annoyed facade he knows how much you really appreciate them, thanks to your son who just loves to tell his dad all about what happened at his mom's.

!Ex-HusbandToji! who can't get enough of talking to you so he memorises your schedule off by heart so he just "happens" to run into you during your daily errands. Your morning yoga classes, your nail appointments, your mindless "self-care" shopping? Trust him to be there perfectly timed.

!Ex-HusbandToji! who still yearns for you, pumping his cock at the thought of you in those tight gym shorts and matching sports bra he happened to catch you in that morning, unable to refrain from calling out your name as he finishes all over himself. Despite being divorced for almost 2 years he still wishes it was your hand around his cock instead of his.

!Ex-HusbandToji! who pretends he doesn't notice your frequent glances at his muscles and your batting eyelashes every time he comes to drop off Megumi, purposely leaning in the doorway to tower over you to get you going- just like it would in your marriage.

!Ex-HusbandToji! who decides to surprise you one day by showing up to your house unannounced while Megumi's at a sleepover, happily surprised when you suddenly decide to invite him in for a glass of wine.

!Ex-HusbandToji! who's lips are on yours the second he enters your home, hands re-finding their long lost place on your hips. God he missed you and it seemed you missed him too.

!Ex-HusbandToji! who missed the feeling of your walls clamping down around him at every rough thrust he makes, who missed your sugary sweet voice moaning out his name and little else, who missed your freshly manicured nails scraping down his back marking him as yours.

!Ex-HusbandToji! who finishes inside of you like he always used to with a groan before pulling out and landing beside you, pulling you tight into his strong arms, planning on when would be the best time to ask you to marry him again.

────୨ৎ──────୨ৎ──────୨ৎ────

I can't stop thinking about Toji OMLLLL 😮‍💨 size difference goes crazy

i hope you enjoyed lovelies x

comments + requests are always welcome 💕

#toji fushiguro #jjk toji #toji x reader #toji smut #x reader smut #smut #black writers #blacklivesmatter #x reader #anime #luvinghanni #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #home page #megumi fushiguro #jjk megumi

825 notes · View notes

blackynsupremacy · 4 months ago

Text

idgaf about what’s canon, if you want to romantically write them to be with a black girl, do it!

2K notes · View notes

vantetaes · 17 days ago

Text

FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS🫧🥂

ATHLETE ONYANKOPON X TUTOR BLACK FEM READER

SUMMARY!!! yn is forced to tutor her colleges golden boy, onyankopon

WARNINGS!!! slow burn, enemies to lovers, mild vougerism, pet names

on a rainy tuesday, the sky hangs low and gray, smothering the campus in a damp chill.

you’re sitting in the library, tucked into a corner where the light from a nearby lamp casts a golden glow across the wooden table. books and papers are scattered in front of you, your pen tapping rhythmically against the spine of a well-worn calculus textbook. the library is quiet except for the faint hum of the central heating and the soft rustle of pages being turned.

then, you hear it. heavy footsteps, a bag dragging along the polished floors. you glance up to see onyankopon striding in, his broad shoulders swaying under a damp varsity jacket. his forehead still wet from the rain, beads of water slipping down his neck and soaking into the collar of his gray hoodie and his large jeweled necklace. his black sweatpants hang low on his hips, the fabric wrinkled and casual.

he doesn’t even apologize as he plops into the chair across from you, his duffel bag hitting the floor with a loud thud. a few drops of water splashing into your work surface.

his presence is immediate, commanding, and unwelcome.

“you’re late.” you say flatly, folding your arms.

he doesn’t look at you as he leans back, his long legs stretching out beneath the table.

“yeah, well, traffic. i’m here now. isn’t that what matters?”

“not when you’re fifteen minutes late. i could be doing something better than this.” you push the calculus textbook toward him, your tone clipped.

“let’s just get started. i don’t have time to waste.”

“psht- sure.” he mumbles lowly, spreading legs wider, leaning back in his chair, arms tucked into his hoodie pocket, hood shielding his eyes.

“you’re awfully cocky for someone failing calculus.” he rears up, eyes narrowing at you.

“and you have a lot of mouth for a tutor.” his frame began leaning forward, his irritating smile beginning to form across his lips.

“be an asshole all you want. i’m what’s separating you and the championship. i separate you and your incompetent little scouts. watch what you say.” his eyes relax from shooting daggers, instead of look of defeat crossing.

“open your book to 215.”

the first few sessions are a disaster.

he spends more time cracking jokes and scrolling on his phone, flirting with the library assistants. rather than actually studying. half-listening, scribbling answers in the margins of his workbook with barely any effort.

you were stuck in a loop of wanting to rip the boys head off and reassuring yourself that this would look good on your record.

“what’s the point of this, anyway?” he mutters late one evening, slouched over the table in his usual hoodie, varsity jacket combo and sweatpants.

the library’s soft lighting and sunset through the large windows makes his skin look warm, his dark brown eyes glinting with something that isn’t quite interest but isn’t boredom either. licking his plump lips as he goes to lean back in the chair, pen tucked behind his ear.

“not like i’m not gonna use this in real life.”

“knowing you, maybe not.” you reply, your voice sharp, placing the tip of your red pen down on his paper, marking everything wrong on his sheet.

“but for now, you’ll use it to keep playing football. or do you want to sit out the champs because you couldn’t be bothered to learn how to integrate a function? all the money your parents spend for you to go here, make use.” your tone was straight and nonchalant. sliding over the paper to the man as if it’s confidential files. his eyes scan all the red x’s and o’s. noticing it was the majority of his work.

“do you always talk like this? no wonder no one sits with you in class.” he gives you a look, one eyebrow raised.

the words sting, but you don’t let it show.

“nigga we’re grown. this isn’t high school anymore, onyankopon. maybe people would like you more if you weren’t so fucking obnoxious.”

his grin is infuriating, lips stretching across his face. letting out a chuckle.

“oh, they like me just fine, sweetheart.”

“and i hope to be as delusional as you someday.”

despite your attitude towards each other, you find yourself noticing small things about him.

the way he fiddles with the drawstring of his hoodie when he’s frustrated. index finger and thumb nipping at the metal tips. the way his voice softens, just barely, when he asks you to explain something again, pushing his glasses up. breath hitching when you slide from your side of the table casually, the fabric of your sweater falling slightly over your shoulder. he thought you smelled like fresh baked cookies, maybe a contrast with the way your attitude was. you’d notice the faint scar above his left eyebrow, visible only when the light from the library’s lamp hits it just right.

one day, the library is too crowded, filled to the brim with worried college students, and he suggests meeting in his dorm instead. you hesitate but agree, figuring it’ll be easier than finding another spot in the cramped exam season.

when you arrive, his room is a mess. clothes tossed over the back of a chair, textbooks and playbooks stacked haphazardly on his desk, the faint scent of cologne and sweat lingering in the air.

“sorry about the mess. been trying to keep up with everything.” he says, scratching the back of his neck. he’s wearing a fitted black t-shirt and joggers today, hair protected in a dark maroon durag. his feet padding softly against the carpet as he moves to clear his clothes from his bed to his laundry basket tucked into his closet.

you couldn’t help but notice he’s moving erratically, eyes and hands unable to find a steady place to stay.

“onyankopon.” you reply, setting your bag down. “we can always reschedule, maybe you’re working yourself too hard.”

“no. we can do it just let me straighten up, swear.” your eyes drift from the man rushing to clean, to a pile of crushed red bulls, celcius cans, and empty americano cups. his calendar was packed full of activities and sports events he was mandated to attend. lists of exams growing. he’s running on nothing but caffeine.

“onyankopon.” you say, crossing your arms, your voice tight with concern.

“you’re running on nothing but coke and sheer panic.”

he laughs, though it’s short and breathless, as if acknowledging the truth in your words would be admitting defeat.

“nah, i’m fine. i’ve got it. i always do.”

you don’t respond right away, instead watching as he swipes stray clothes off the only other chair in the room and dumps them onto his bed. his hands move quickly with hangers, his jaw tight, his movements too sharp to be natural. you realize it’s not just the caffeine, it’s everything. the weight of expectations. the need to perform, to stay on top.

“sit down.” you finally say, your voice firm.

“what?” he looks up, his dark eyes blinking in confusion.

“sit. down.” you gesture to his unmade bed, the rumpled gray sheets twisted like he hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep in weeks.

“take five minutes to breathe before you collapse. i’m serious.”

“i don’t have time to—” he hesitates, his fingers twitching like they’re itching to pick up something else, to keep moving, to do anything other than pause.

“make time. you can’t keep going like this.” you cut him off, your tone sharper than you intend.

his shoulders sag, and for the first time, you see a crack in the cocky, untouchable facade he always wears. slowly, he sinks onto the edge of the bed, his elbows resting on his knees as he rubs a hand down his face.

“it’s just… a lot,” he admits, his voice quieter now.

“if i don’t keep up, i’ll fall behind. and if i fall behind- then…”

“then what?” you press, stepping closer.

“the world ends? the team loses one player for a game? you fail a test? what’s the worst that happens?”

“everyone’s counting on me.” he says, the words heavy.

“the team, the coaches, the professors. hell, even my parents. if i screw this up-” voice cracking, he trails off, shaking his head.

you feel something in your chest twist, a mixture of frustration and sympathy. you’d always seen onyankopon as larger than life, the guy who has it all together. but here he was, cracking under the weight of his own perfectionism.

“look-” you say, your voice softer now. “i get it. people expect a lot from you. but you can’t give them anything if you’re running on fumes, onya. you need to take care of yourself too, okay?”

he looks up at you, his dark eyes searching yours, and for a moment, he’s quiet. then, he gives a small, tired smile.

“you’re bossy, you know that?”

“you’re stubborn.” you counter, sitting down across from him and sliding your notebook back into the bag.

“im serious though. drink some water, eat something. we can pick up next week before exams start.”

as the week goes by, something shifts. it’s subtle at first: he starts showing up on time, asking questions that prove he’s actually been paying attention. during one session, you catch him staring at you. not in his usual teasing way, but with an expression you can’t quite place.

“what?” you snap, your cheeks warming under his gaze.

“nothing. just wondering what you’d look like if you smiled once in a while.” he shrugs, his lips curving into a small smile.

“maybe i’d smile more if you got an answer right for once.” you shoot back, jokingly tapping the side of his face. there’s no real venom in your tone.

one evening in his dorm, with BRENT FAIYAZ playing softly in the background on his laptop. he surprises you by pulling out a red notebook filled with neatly written equations.

“i’ve been practicing.” he says, his voice almost shy.

“you… did this on your own?” you blink a few times, caught off guard. fingers flipping carefully through the work.

“yeah. figured you’d yell at me less if i tried.”

for the first time, you see a different side of him. he’s still cocky, still quick with a comeback, but there’s something vulnerable beneath the surface. it’s infuriating, how much you notice.

you find yourself in his dorm again. the rain is pounding against the window, the room dimly lit by the glow of a desk lamp. onyankopon sits across from you, his hoodie pulled low over his curls. he’s focused on the textbook in front of him, his jaw tight as he works through a problem.

you don’t know why, but your chest tightens at the sight of him like this. serious, determined, and quiet in a way that feels rare.

“you’re getting it.” you say softly, and his head snaps up.

“yeah?” his voice is quieter than usual, almost hesitant.

“yeah.” you smile, just a little. “you’ll pass.”

he leans back, exhaling deeply. “good. because i don’t think i could’ve done this without you.”

you wave him off, trying to ignore the way your heart skips at his words. “just focus on your game tomorrow.”

but he doesn’t look away, his dark eyes fixed on yours. “i mean it. you’ve been there for me when no one else was.”

your breath catches, and for a moment, the space between you feels charged, electric. but you force yourself to look away, gathering your things. “you should get some rest.”

he doesn’t stop you as you leave, but the look in his eyes stays with you long after you’ve gone.

the stadium is alive with energy, the roar of the crowd vibrating through the crisp autumn air. the bright lights cut through the darkness, illuminating the field where onyankopon moves like he was made for this.

you’re watching from the sidelines, surrounded by screaming fans and teammates pacing anxiously, but your eyes never leave him. he’s electric tonight, faster than you’ve ever seen him, his body a blur of black and gold as he weaves through defenders. every throw is perfect, spiraling through the air before landing seamlessly in the hands of his receivers. he’s playing like a man possessed, like this is his destiny.

and maybe it is.

the final play unfolds in slow motion. clock winding down, onyankopon dodging two defenders, the pocket collapsing around him, but instead of panicking, he pivots. his cleats dig into the turf as he launches the ball downfield, his arm a perfect arc of muscle and control. the last second. the crowd holds its breath as the receiver leaps, fingers grazing the ball before pulling it into his chest.

touchdown.

the stadium erupts.

the scoreboard cements the victory, and just like that, they’ve won. the team rushes the field, helmets flying off, bodies colliding in embraces and back slaps. onyankopon stands at the center of it all, arms raised, grinning so wide it’s blinding.

you should leave. you should turn away now that your job is technically over. he passed his classes, he made it to the championship, he didn’t need you anymore. but your feet stay rooted to the ground. because despite everything, despite the way he frustrates you and how complicated everything had become, you can’t bring yourself to look away.

but neither can he.

even in the chaos, in the middle of his teammates hoisting him up like he’s their king, his eyes find you. just for a second. just long enough for something unspoken to pass between you.

with a big smile and both thumbs high, you just smile at the man.

then, suddenly, he’s swarmed. scouts in expensive suits push through the crowd, hands outstretched, voices blending together in a frenzy of opportunity.

they’re speaking fast, throwing out numbers, offers, futures that sound too big to be real. you watch as coaches shake his hand, as reporters shove microphones in his face, as his teammates thump his back with shouts of -

“that’s the nfl calling your name, bro!”

“the girls gone love this shit!”

“let’s go drink!”

the campus bar is packed, overflowing with students buzzing from the victory, their energy vibrating through the dimly lit space. the neon signs overhead cast a hazy glow over the crowd, bottles clinking together, voices raised in laughter and celebration over the music.

you sit at the bar, half-hidden in the shadows, nursing a drink that burns just enough to dull the tightness in your chest. your fingers trace the rim of the glass as you watch groups of students in jerseys throwing back shots, replaying onyankopon’s best plays on the tiny bar tvs like they hadn’t just witnessed them firsthand.

you should be happy. you should be celebrating too. after all, he won. he got everything he wanted.

so why does it feel like something in your chest is unraveling?

you tip your glass back, finishing the rest of your drink in one go. the ice pressing against your lips yet the warmth spreading through you like a slow burn.

“another?” the bartender asks, eyeing you curiously. almost concerned with the solemn expression that rest on your face.

you nod, sliding your glass toward her.

“yeah. something way stronger please. everclear if you have it.”

“sorry we don’t carry jet fuel.” she jokes, reaching across the counter to grab your empty glass.

the doors swing open, and the energy in the bar shifts instantly. the football team floods in, a wave of jerseys and victory-fueled adrenaline, their presence consuming the space like they own it. someone starts chanting onyankopon’s name, and the whole bar picks it up, the sound rising above the music, shaking the walls.

he walks in at the center of it all, his championship hoodie slung over his broad shoulders, his jersey still clinging to him from the game. his chain catches the light as he moves, bright white teeth grinning, dapping up teammates, accepting the endless praise with that same easy confidence.

he looks good. he always does. but there’s something sharper about him tonight. something almost restless in the way his eyes sweep across the room.

then, he sees you.

you’re still at the bar, fingers wrapped loosely around your drink, your posture relaxed but your gaze unreadable. you don’t cheer, don’t chant his name like the rest of them. you just watch, eyes batting at him and somehow, that unsettles him more than anything else.

without a word, he starts moving toward you. almost like he was gravitated towards you.

“onyan, where you going man? they wanna take shots.” one of his teammates calls, arms thrown over two girls. a small smirk crossing his face. but onyankopon barely hears him.

“shouldn’t you be celebrating with them?” you glance up when he reaches you, arching a brow.

he leans against the bar, close enough that you can smell the faint mix of cologne and sweat still clinging to him.

“i could ask you the same thing.” he says, voice low over the noise. you take a slow sip of your drink.

“i am celebrating.” he huffs a quiet laugh.

“yeah? you don’t look like it.”

“guess i don’t have as much to celebrate as you do.” you shrug, swirling the liquid in your glass, watching the ice clink against the sides.

the words shouldn’t sting, but they do.

onyankopon watches you for a long moment, then reaches past you, grabbing a random shot from the bar. he downs it quickly, barely flinching at the burn before setting the glass down with a quiet thud.

“go back, they’re waiting for you.” your finger points past the man to a group of guys staring at him and you. some of them smiling at you while others stare confused.

“ma, stop acting like this. y’know i appreciate you helping me, i couldn’t have done this without you. im serious.” his hand shoots out, taking hold of yours, bringing it up to place a small kiss on your knuckles. eyes never leaving yours.

“come take one drink with us and the you c -“ yanking your hand back, the man’s big brown eyes widen.

“baby! there you are!”

your fingers tighten around your glass as a girl slides up to onyankopon, wrapping her arms around his bicep like she belongs there.

her black minidress riding up her ass as she pressed against the man. but she’s pretty. long, sleek hair, manicured nails pressing lightly into the side of his face.

kirsten.

you’ve seen her before, walking across campus in his hoodies, sitting front row at his games, in pictures tagged on his instagram.

your stomach turns, but your face remains impassive.

“uh, hey.” onyankopon tenses, like he wasn’t expecting her, but he recovers fast. she looks up at him, pouting.

“you disappeared right after the game! i’ve been looking everywhere for you. even came by the locker room.” then, as if just noticing you, she turns, her eyes scanning you from head to toe.

her smile is polite. too polite.

“who’s this?”

before onyankopon can answer, you set your glass down and meet her gaze head-on.

“yn.”

her brows lift slightly, like the name rings a bell.

“oh-” she hums, the realization clicking in her head. she looks at onyankopon. “the tutor?”

there’s something about the way she says it that makes your jaw clench. like she’s filing you away into something insignificant.

“girl- yes. the tutor. the whole reason your fuck buddy was even able to play tonight.” you exhale slowly, keeping your tone even.

onyankopon mutters something under his breath, running a hand down his face, but kirsten just smiles, saccharine-sweet.

“right, of course. i heard you helped him so much.”

“i did, how did you?.” you arch a brow.

her smile tightens, and for a second, the two of you just stare at each other, an entire silent conversation happening in the space between. neither of you back down.

onyankopon shifts beside you, clearly uncomfortable.

“kirsten, not now.” he mutters.

but she ignores him, tilting her head at you.

“it’s just funny. you’re acting all… close, but you’re just his tutor.”

your lips part, and you could let it go. you should let it go. but the exhaustion from the last few weeks, the emotions simmering under your skin, the alcohol in your system. it all catches up to you.

you lean in slightly, voice smooth but firm.

“ha! kirs baby... you’re acting all secure, but you had to come find him.”

her smile vanishes.

onyankopon lets out a low, exasperated- “oh, fuck.”

“do you need that?” she asks, about to start taking her earrings until onyankopon started to scold the girl.

the bar suddenly feels too loud, too crowded, too full of people pretending not to watch the tension unfold. you sigh, shaking your head, suddenly too tired for this. reaching into your purse, you throw down a fifty dollar bill and snatch your jacket off the back of the chair.

“enjoy your night, superstar .” you say, voice quieter now, pushing in between the couple.

and this time, when you walk away, you don’t stop.

the pounding on your door is relentless. heavy, urgent, like whoever’s on the other side has no intention of leaving until you open up.

you groan, burying your face deeper into your pillow, willing whoever it is to go away. but the knocking only gets louder, more insistent.

“yn! open the damn door!”

your eyes snap open. you recognize that voice instantly. deep, slightly hoarse, impatient. onyankopon.

you drag yourself out of bed, throwing on the nearest sweatshirt, slipping on your slippers, your head still hazy from last night’s drinks. your legs are heavy as you trudge toward the door, stomach twisting with a mix of exhaustion and irritation. the knocks still persistent.

the second you yank it open, he’s there, standing in your doorway like he owns the place. his hoodie is pulled up over his waves, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips, like he left in a hurry.

his eyes. dark, intense, scan over you, taking in the oversized sweatshirt swallowing your frame. lashes disheveled, your bare legs, bonnet secured on your head, the clear signs that you just woke up. eyes narrowed at him, sleep still collecting at the corners.

something flickers across his face, gone too fast for you to catch.

“jesus, onyankopon. why you knocking like the fucking police? barely morning.” you mutter, rubbing your temple, wiping your eyes. he frowns down at you, flipping his apple watch up.

“it’s noon.”

“…oh.”

he exhales sharply, jaw clenching.

“can i come in?”

you hesitate, debating slamming the door in his face just to make a point. but there’s something about the way he looks- frustrated, tired, guilty. that makes you sigh and step aside.

he brushes past you, pacing across your living room like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. you cross your arms, watching him, waiting.

finally, he stops, turning to face you.

“about last night—” you cut him off.

“you don’t have to explain.”

“yeah, i do.” his voice is firm. “you left before i could.”

you huff a humorless laugh.

“what was there to explain? your bitch came looking for you, you let her hang all over you, and then she tried to play in my fucking face. sounds pretty clear to me.”

“she’s not my fucking girlfriend.” he scrubs a hand down his face, exhaling hard.

“wow! could’ve fooled the hell outta me.” you blink.

“yn, i swear to god! i. am. not. with. her!” he looks at you, exasperated, hands held out pleading for your warmth.

“she’s not- we were a thing, yeah, but we broke up weeks ago. she just- she doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.” he shakes his head, frustrated. you stare at him, skeptical.

“and what, you just let her? let her claim you, let her act like i was nothing? was her dumb ass helping you pass a class you knew you shouldn’t have signed up for in the first place? you could never be my nigga.”

his expression tightens.

“i wasn’t thinking. i was caught off guard. and then you and her started—”

“that, and i just—fuck, i handled it wrong, okay?” he gestures vaguely.

“all this fucking stuttering. yeah, no shit. you chose her last night when you let the weirdo talk to me crazy.” you scoff.

“i don’t want her, ma. i swear, i need you to believe me.” he steps closer, lowering his voice.

“good for you.” your breath catches, but you keep your face neutral.

“no.” he shakes his head, his eyes locked onto yours. he’s towering over you and all you can smell is his cologne and laundry detergent. his head still hooded, lips shining under the low light of your apartment.

“you don’t get it.” he moves even closer, his voice quieter now, more serious.

“i don’t want her. i want you.”

“prove it.”

he wastes no time bending down and attaching your lips to his.

“mm-! i didn’t have time to brush my teeth!” you whine, letting him snake his large hands under your sweatshirt. his trimmed nails running up and down your waist. his lips venture down the side of your neck, humming before pulling away.

“mama, i’ve wanted you for the last two months, i don’t give a damn.”

his lips move against yours with urgency, all heat and frustration, his hands sliding up your back, pulling you even closer until there’s no space left between you.

your fingers dig into his hoodie, gripping the fabric as he backs you up against the wall, his knee slipping between your thighs like he belongs there. the heat of him, the sheer size of him, has your breath hitching, your heart pounding so loud you swear he can hear it.

he breaks away just enough to look at you, his breathing uneven, his eyes dark and intense.

“you sure?”

you don’t answer with words. instead, you fist your hands into his hoodie and pull him back in, crashing your mouth against his like you’re making up for lost time.

that’s all the permission he needs.

he groans into the kiss, one hand cupping your jaw, the other sliding down to grip your hip, his fingers pressing into the soft skin just beneath the hem of your sweatshirt. his thumb brushes over the curve of your waist, slow, like he’s memorizing every inch of you.

your body reacts before your mind can catch up, your back arching, pressing yourself against him. the friction makes you gasp, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue past your lips, deepening the kiss, swallowing the small sound you make.

he tastes like mint and something else, something undeniably him, and it has your head spinning, your knees weak.

his hoists you up, rushing down the hall with your lips connected. pushing open your bedroom door, he carefully places you on the bed. hands eagerly paw at your sweatshirt, getting it off over your head.

“let me take care of you, baby.” you watch as he climbed onto the bed, bending to attach his lips to your swollen nipples. his other hand comes up, dragging along your frame, taking hold of your other breast. he gently massages, rolling your nipple in between his thumb and middle finger.

mouth agape, all you can do is grab at his large arms, trying to ground yourself to anything. he removes his mouth with a ‘pop’, sliding down to your stomach. he places a few kisses, eyes locked on yours as he proceeds down.

the warmth of his mouth over your clothed heat is enough to have your eyes closing in anticipation. his places a kiss, using his hands to hook the sides of your underwear. in one swift motion, your pink underwear were draped over your tv.

when he started you couldn’t stop him. like a wild animal, his tongue lapping up your juices as his mouth sucks and bites at your core. he’s humming, using his free hands to feel every inch of your body, every bump, mark, mole, he needed to know all of you.

“oouu- shit! onya just like that.” the large digits of his middle and ring finger pump in and out of you, feeling your gummy, warm wall clenching around him. his tongue playing slowly with your clit, eyes rolling to the back of his head at how good you taste.

he always wondered how you’d look under him.

every assignment, every session in the library, it took him all his might not to bend you over his calculus book and fuck the shit out of you.

showing up in your skims or iamgia two pieces, the fabric fitting snug against your smooth skin. how everytime you got close to show him how to work an equation, the smell of coco butter, vanilla, and hair oil would fill his space. he loved heading to practice, music barely playing as his thoughts ran rapid throughout the drive.

and now he has you.

pad of his fingers press up against the small sponges texture at the back of your heat, tongue lapping at the bud with a sense of hunger. in the light of your room, you can see your slick and his spit covering his face. coating the neck if his hoodie. hands dart out to grab the closest thing to brace yourself. the coil in your stomach burning heavy, shaking with every pump of the man’s fingers.

“i feel that shit. you’re such a good girl for me baby, let it go. mm- let me take it, ma.”

you’d always known onyankopon didn’t have many cares in the world.

with your hands tied behind your back with his hoodie string, body pressed against the living room window. onyankopon stands behind you, slowly pumping in and out of you. wet squelches of sound fill the large room, filling your ears as pleasure coiled in the pit of your stomach.

“fuck onyyy, just like that.” you could feel his large tip rubbing across the spongy area, prodding around like he knew your entire body. his hand comes up, cupping the side of your face as his thumb slips inside your mouth, other had anchoring to your hips.

“mhm, hold on for me mama. let em see.” you can only look out of your window onto the balcony, tear filled eyes dashing across the parking lot, making sure no one was actually staring through the glass.

he pulls out, almost fully, tip filling your hole. he leans down, giving the back of your shoulders a kiss before sliding into you. slow, controlled strokes drive you over the edge. tears fall into the glass as your lips wrap around his finger. his hips dip in and out of you, a white creamy circle forming around the base of the man’s cock.

“pussy so good. takin’ it so good for me.” his words fuel the fire, passion burning through your bodies as his strokes become sloppy and shallow.

“yes! oh my- onya im so close, imma cum on this dick!” your breast collide with the door, letting the man take control as he nears his end.

“do it then, ma. make a mess on my shit.” he says through gritted teeth, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he subconsciously begins to lift your frame. too lost on ecstasy and need that he doesn’t notice your feet hovering off the ground. he’s ravaging your insides, swollen cock drilling at your warm walls.

“i’m cumming! onya holy shit!” he continued, using his hand to cover your mouth. your body falls limp, standing no issue to the man as he holds you in place.

“that my good girl! i’m finna nut baby, where you want it baby?” too lost in the pleasure in your core, you just nod. pulling out, he releases white sticky ropes onto his own chest, carefully placing you down on the couch.

he takes his hoodie off, carefully undoing your hands.

“believe me now?”

“maybe”

369 notes · View notes

thecoochiefairy · 11 months ago

Text

say it. toji.

warnings 𑄽𑄺 12.7k word count. a LOT of dialogue ngl, first person pov, black woman, vaginal penetration, rough sex, hair pulling,squirting,creaming drunk/tipsy sex, oral [f] [m], choking, daddy kink, praising, LOTS of dirty talk, degrading (maybe?), condomless sex, kissing, spanking, aggressive + cocky toji, daddy toji, baby megumi, minors aren’t welcome!

━━ 𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ this was my first fic y’all, it is first person, sorry if that’s strange. enjoy! 🫶🏽

“WHO THE FUCK STILL EATS FIG NEWTON’S?”

“Me! That’s who.”

My eyes continue to wander down the snack aisle, searching for my favorite selection. I toss the fruit paste filled cookie into the basket as I respond to my friend on FaceTime, “How about you mind your goddamn business?”

“As long as you continue to buy snacks only made from the devil, I won’t.”

I roll my eyes. “Anyways, you still comin’ tonight or what? I’ll buy a bottle of Stella Rose.”

“Black?” She smirks into the camera, leaning over in her chair as she continues her makeup.

“Black, of course. Makes me feel sexy,” I chuckle.

“Sorry, bookie. I’m going on a date tonight!”

“With the man that’s not your man, but is your man?” I tease.

She pulls the lip liner down from her face as she glares, “Very funny. That’s why you’re still single.”

“Very funny,” I repeat mockingly.

I could admit, it was way too late to be in the grocery store. But as I continued to sit in my condo with an empty fridge, my stomach began imagining myself cuddling with my favorite snack—Fig Newtons. Now I was here.

“You need to get your ass home, it’s late as hell and you’re by yourself,” my friend reminds me.

“I know, I know. I’m going. Once I get my Stella Rose Imma’ get my ass out—“

I stop. I was originally alone in this aisle as I suddenly heard the sound of feeble crying, my head turning as I look down to see a child. No, a baby. The baby waddles in anguish, his olive toned face red and swollen as his mouth ejected cries. My body was frozen as he stalked towards me, his stubby arms raising as he wailed in my direction.

“Girl,” I raise the phone to my ear, “There is a goddamn baby running towards me in distress.”

My friend's eyes go wide as she looks into the camera, “A baby? Oh hell. It’s some sex trafficking shit. Get out of there!”

“This some scary shit, I’m not going to jail! Or ending up in the back of some van where they tell me they’re gonna sell each of my organs,” I exclaim. The baby continues to bawl, now inches away from me as he then raises his arms up. His dark hair sticks up in different directions, wide eyes practically pleading for help.

“Awe. He’s adorable. Shit. Them’ people might get my ass, what if he’s really in distress?” I look around, seeing as no one else appears in the store but me.

“I still say it’s a trap. Kick the damn thing like you would Chucky!”

“Oh shut up, would you kick your own child?”

“Don’t have kids, can’t answer that.”

I place my phone down in the front of the basket as I turn back towards the small being, gushing, “Awe, Pumpkin. Are you lost?”

I lift him into my hands, wrapping my arms around him and he immediately accepts my gesture, leaning his soft head against my chest. I feel my heart melt, his crying begins to subside as he hides his face in my neck.

“Now sir, you and I both know I’m not your momma’. But that’s okay! Cause you’re adorable. And we’re gonna go find her. Shit, okay, where the hell do you bring a child if he’s lost in the store?” I look back over to the phone.

“Customer service desk, I think.”

“It’s damn near twelve o’ clock at night, Customer Service is most likely closed,” I mutter, “Shit. Okay, um—fuck. I’m gonna have to call the police. Or Jesus. Or Dr.Phil.”

“Don’t call Dr.Phil,” my friend pointed out.

“Right. Imma’ have to go to the front of the store and—“

As I turned to make my way towards the opposite direction I was going, I was interrupted as a man now stood in front of me. I jumped.

“Holy shit, am I really finna’ get kidnapped?!”

As I took in his face, this wasn’t just a man. This was a man. All the way down from the large black boots he wore, my eyes trailed up to his olive toned arms, muscles bulging through his shirt as a dragon tattoo trailed around his left hand. The silver jewelry he wore stood out on him. Numerous rings and chains, complimenting his onyx shirt that clung to his perfectly sculpted body. His full eyebrows were furrowed at me, scar atop of his lip twitching on his attractive face.

“What are you doing with my kid?”

“What? Oh— I’m sorry, is this your child?” I asked, slightly panicked. As I continued to study this man, he was scarily sexy. Dark hair, dark eyes. He looked evil in the best way. He had…a baby?

"Yeah, he's mine.” The man looked at me with suspicious eyes, sighing as he looked at the baby in my arms.

“What's the matter, champ?" He asked with a kinder and softer tone, the coldness from earlier in his stare now gone.

“I wasn’t trying to kidnap your child!” I admitted, my face going hot. I felt like I needed to admit that as I continued, “He…was crying. And I was just worried. I’m sorry.”

"I never said you were,” He replied. The small scowl on his face was slowly coming back. He reached forward to take the child from my hands, the baby beginning to struggle and cry again. He buried his head back into my arms as he hugged me tighter.

“Oh…” I then looked him up and down, “Wait a damn minute. Are you sure you aren’t trying to kidnap him?”

His face seemed surprised at my question. He looked down at the baby who continued to cry in my arms as he asked, “Kid, what's wrong with you? Why can't you calm down?"

The baby refused to let go of me. As I looked down to his adorable face, he cried as he then put his hands to his mouth. I realize why he’s upset.

I then say, “He looks to be less than two. I um…he seems to have teeth coming in. You should probably get some cold stuff for him to munch on, that probably explains him being so fussy. Once he couldn’t find you in the store, it probably just scared him.”

He looked at the child and noticed the swollenness in his cheeks as well. The man looked up at me, almost shocked at my observation.

"You know about children?" He replied. I could admit that this was an odd interaction. However, it seemed to be enough to break down his guard. His face softened.

“Yeah, I have a lot of siblings that I took care of. I was basically a mom at a young age,” I reply, “But seriously, he’s just hurting. It’s like a toothache all around your gums.”

"Yeah, you're right. It explains the wailing, it's not like I've never seen these symptoms before. Just didn't connect the dots,” He explains, scratching the back of his head. The baby was still crying, but slowly started to calm down. He looked up at me with teary eyes, still refusing to let go. The man tried again to take him from me, but the child held on tighter.

“I’m sorry… I don’t understand why he’s so comfortable with me,” I say softly, rubbing his hair to calm him down further.

The man sighed, then looked at me with an eyebrow raised as he said, “Maybe he saw something about you that he liked?" a teasing smile slowly coming along his face.

“I mean, I was holding some blueberries, does he like those?” I respond awkwardly, shaking my head as I try to flirt back. Was he even flirting?

He chuckles, “I don't know. Maybe he just liked the way you smelled? Or maybe the color of your hair?"

“Maybe. At least now you can remember that your son seems to have a thing for black women. He has good taste already,” I smile softly.

He chuckles again, my shoulders tensing as he briefly washes his eyes over my entire body. He then asks, “What’s your name?”

“I’m Oni’—“ I then stop myself, “Seioni,” I then correct, “Pronounced ‘Say-Oh-Knee. A lot of people just call me ‘Oni’. And um, your name? And your baby’s?”

The look on his face seems to be amused by me. After all of this, the baby finally reaches out to him, the man quickly taking him back into his hands. He then replies, "I'm Toji. And my son's name is Megumi."

“Well, Megumi’s a very beautiful little boy,” I reach out my finger to the baby, he wraps his entire hand around it. “It’s nice to meet you, Toji.”

“Same with you too, Seioni,” He fully pronounces my name, looking down at his child who was still holding onto my finger tightly. Megumi was now rubbing the finger with his whole hand, refusing to let go. Toji tried yanking him away again, but the baby wouldn't budge.

"Don't get too comfortable, I'd rather not have him get fond of you,” Toji replied, to which Megumi let out a small whine.

“Right,” I agree, pulling my finger away from the child. I continue, “But I’m glad he found me when he did, god forbid he’d walked out of the store or worse. But um, I’m sorry again if it seemed like I was trying to take him.”

He sighed as Megumi reached his arms out to me. He begins to apologize, "It's fine. I shouldn't have been so quick to judge….” He muttered, kissing the child's head as he stared at me.

"You seem like a good person."

“Thank you,” I smile, “You seem like you and your baby have a sweet bond. I’m glad he found you safely.”

"I appreciate that. I try to be the best dad I can, this isn’t a good representation of that,” He jokes, holding the child in his arms. Megumi then started to smile, cooing as he gripped onto his fathers shirt.

“So…I um…assume that his mom is at home waiting for you guys?” I ask.

He looked down, smile disappearing from his face. He cleared his throat as he explained, “Unfortunately, no. His mom passed away,” He replies flatly.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry,” I shook my head, “I’m shitty for asking that. I mean—bad, sorry,” I correct my cursing, the baby giggling at my tone of voice.

Toji laughed, “No, no need to apologize. It was just an honest question, but that’s why I'm raising him all alone."

“From what I can see you’re doing an amazing job. He’s a sweet baby, and in the instance of an emergency he ran for help. So, don’t be too hard on yourself,” I compliment him. I adjust my glasses on my face, feeling a small bit of irritation as my ginger hair was slowly falling from its claw clip.

His smile felt a little more genuine than before. He held the baby in his arms as he spoke, “Thank you. I'm glad that he's turning out to be just as good as you think he is."

I notice as silence capacitates the space between us, his eyes now study me the similar way I observed him before. I was wearing a matching set, gray sweatpants and a compression long sleeve. I looked like I had just hopped out of bed, yet, I didn’t feel unattractive to his vision.

I place my hair behind my ear, “Well…um…I should probably get back to my grocery shopping, don’t wanna keep bothering you two.”

"Yeah, you're right. I still have a few things I need to buy." Toji replied, I notice Megumi begins to grumble out fussy sounds. I give him an awkward smile as I then wave to the baby, turning myself back towards my basket to push.

"Wait... can I ask you something?" Toji then said. As I looked at him, he was looking straight at me; not the baby.

“…Yeah, sure!” I nod my head, gripping my grocery list nervously in my hand.

He looked at his son, slowly looking back at me.

"Does that mean you're single, by any chance?"

I'm not sure why my heart skips a beat at the question. “Um…yeah, I am actually,” I clear my throat as I feel my face becoming warm, “Why?”

He chuckles at my reaction as he replies, "The way that he was clinging to you, I thought that maybe he was onto something."

Okay, so he is flirting. Realizing that makes me even more flustered as I speak, “Oh…babies do have good intuition,” I point out. “Well, maybe this was his plan all along…to come find me,” I smile gently.

"Maybe it was. But one things for sure, the boy is interested in you,” He said, teasing. He tried pulling the baby farther back, Megumi beginning to whine, clearly wanting to stay closer to me.

“Mmm. Fair. But the real question is, is Daddy interested in me?” I tease back, asking the question more so towards Megumi, coming closer as I delicately tickle him with my fingers.

A small smirk appeared on Toji’s face.

"Maybe I am,” He said with a flirtatious tone, his son giggling from the tickles I gave him.

“Well maybe I have a number I can give to Daddy then, hm?” I cooed to Megumi.

As I cooed over the baby, I then looked up into Toji’s eyes directly. From the way he began to look a little flustered, I guess he didn't expect me to be as bold. Maybe Megumi really was on to something.

"You do?" He asked, his voice going raspy as he leaned in a little closer to me.

“I do. Let’s see if he’ll call me then.”

I take a piece of paper out of my notebook, writing my number down and placing it in Megumi’s small hand.

"Shit. Well I might just have to then, Seioni,” He said, eyes following my body as I walked away from him. Before I turned the corner out of the aisle, I saw the baby fumbling with the piece of paper in his hands. Toji smirked as he brought his attention to him, “What did she give you, champ?"

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏~♡

MAYBE I WAS BEING A CREEP. It was nearly three in the morning, a small box of Fig Newtons on the table as I stared at my phone, curiously waiting to see if he’d text. What the hell is wrong with me? It’s three a.m, and he has a child.

I wondered to myself why I was even still awake. The interaction from earlier might’ve given me a bit of a high, and now I couldn’t bring myself to sleep. I look down as the clock says it’s now 3:01AM, rolling my eyes as I stand up to put my snack away and go to bed.

That’s when the phone begins to ring.

I could’ve flown to the table if I suddenly grew wings, looking over the phone as an unknown number pops up. It probably wasn’t him. Another spam number, mostly likely. I wait a couple of seconds before I pick up the device, stepping back as I press the phone to my ear.

“Hello?”

"Is this the beautiful, kind woman that gave her number to my son?" He asked, an immediate flirtatious sound to his voice as he spoke. I could hear the sound of random voices in the background.

My heart fluttered at his deep voice. I confidently replied, “Yes, is this the handsome man with the son?” I closed my eyes, wanting to kick myself in the throat.

He chuckled, amused at my compliment as he spoke, "Yep, that's me. I was surprised that the little one wanted your number so badly."

“Seems like he wanted it more than you did,” I tease.

"That's probably true." He replied, his voice going a little lower, “I do have a couple of questions though." He started to say, sounding a bit more serious now.

“Uh…cool, no problem. Go ahead with your questions,” I prod, sitting myself on my sofa.

He cleared his throat, trying to make clear what he was about to say next. The silence suddenly felt as if he was apprehensive of his question.

“Why are you single? You seem like an incredibly kind and attractive person.”

The question makes me chuckle. “That’s sweet. But…if I'm being honest, I just moved down here. I was in a relationship for a while before we broke up. I owned a tattoo shop back in my hometown, and I decided to expand out here. So, starting fresh in a new city,” I explain.

"You own a tattoo shop, really? I'm surprised I don’t have to fill out an application just to talk to you ,” He joked, his voice filled with curiosity.

“It’s gotten a lot more eyes on it than I ever imagined. But, unfortunately not, as far as the dating scene. My shop kinda runs itself, I have my regular artists who hold it down. I just do the paperwork now,” I reply.

I hear him adjust himself, a smirk now on his voice. “Wow. So you've got this nice shop, plus your own condo?”

I laugh, “Why’s that hard to believe? I’m a woman with her shit together. The topic of companionship never mattered to me, but I also wouldn’t mind the space being filled.”

"So you can handle yourself alone, I feel that,” He replied, giving a little chuckle, “But with all those qualities it just surprises me that you haven't found the right one. If I were to guess, I bet you get a lot of guys who hit on you."

“Not much since I’ve been down here, surprisingly. I’m usually at home a lot, if not in the office of the shop. You’re the first guy to actually approach me—but that was just due to circumstances, I guess,” I giggle.

"True. I’m glad I caught you before somebody else did. You said you were in a serious relationship before moving here, right?"

“Oh. Yeah,” I almost want to roll my eyes at the reminder, “But between you and me, I just turned twenty-nine. I’m ready for a seriously committed relationship. I don’t have time for the stupid shit—That stupid shit being a lot of stuff I dealt with in my hometown.”

"Yeah, I feel you on that,” He chuckles, “Sometimes the fun stuff can turn out to be the most problematic shit. The older we get, the more we learn what we want from someone. What was your previous relationship like?"

I adjust myself on the sofa as I think for a moment. “It was kinda an off and on relationship. He was the person my family wanted me to be with, everybody expected me to marry. But he was…boring? In every aspect. We didn’t have any of the same dreams or aspirations, the sex was pretty mediocre, and he didn’t take me seriously in my career. I don’t hate him, I just didn’t think we weren’t compatible,” I explained, “Is this an interrogation?” I then ask.

"No, no it isn't. I'm just trying to get to know more about you is all, beautiful,” Toji replied, his voice becoming a bit more deeper and flirtatious as he spoke.

"Plus, it seems like you already know what you want, which would definitely weed out a lot of guys anyway..."

“Mmm. So now I’m beautiful,” I repeat, “But yeah, it does. I want someone that’s gonna excite me in every aspect of the relationship. We can be two different people, but there has to be some fiery chemistry to create the connection I’m craving, you know?”

"Ex-act-ly!" He replied, "You want someone that can match your personality, not someone who settles for just whatever is given. Someone who can actually stimulate you, make you feel things that you've always wanted to feel. Someone who's confident and willing to take charge..." He paused, realizing he was going on a little bit of a rant.

"Sorry, I just got a little carried away there," he said with a small chuckle.

“No, you’re fine. We’re not having this conversation for you to be short. That’s exactly what I mean though, everything you said. I’m a lot to handle. And I’m not saying I need a man to ‘handle’ me, but I guess being grounded back down to earth at times…or even ‘handling’ me would be nice. I like a man a lil’ rough around the edges,'' I laugh softly.

"You like a man that's rough around the edges, huh? Someone who can really 'take control' of the situation?” Toji teased back, his voice going a little bit deeper.

I was enjoying how this conversation was going, our flirting felt entirely natural. But I didn’t wanna get ahead of myself yet.

I giggle softly as I reply, “Exactly. That’s exactly what I want,” I confirm, “But what about you? I…don’t want to be intrusive, but I’m just a little curious about Megumi’s mother. What happened to her? Were you guys together before she…passed?”

Silence comes within the phone. I immediately felt bad for even asking the question, quickly correcting myself as I spoke, “I’m sorry—“

"You’re good. We were together before she was pregnant with Megumi but...she passed away shortly after. She was…”

“We don’t have to finish this conversation, I didn’t mean to make you upset,” I reply, hearing his voice becoming different.

"It's fine, really,” he continues, “We were together. We had Megumi, but then she passed from birth complications.”

“I understand. My um…my birth mom actually passed away when giving birth to my youngest brother, which left me and my second brother to go into foster care early—but my family now is perfect. So I understand the feeling you get when you speak about her. I don’t know the actual feeling because that was someone you loved romantically, but my mom was my mom, so…” I shifted my body on the sofa, distracting myself not to become upset, “I get it. Grief comes with time, time comes with patience, patience comes with preservation.”

“And here I thought you were just someone I met by chance,” I feel relieved to hear him teasing again.

I laugh softly, “And here I thought you were some hot guy that looks like a villain, or might be a villain! Clearly there’s more to you than that, and it’s very sweet. But, it seems like you’ll have a little competition in trying to win my affection,” I remind jokingly.

“Villain? Shit, might be. But I don't mind the competition. I'm up for it if you are,” He speaks confidently.

“Competing against your baby son? Shame, Toji,” I shake my head, “I think he had me first, though.”

"Damn. That’s crazy. I guess he does have you all to himself then, huh? But for real, I’m not even jealous. It's just funny seeing him take such an interest in someone. He usually doesn't show much expression to other people, but he really went out of his way to want to know you. So you can take that as a compliment."

“I do, actually. It seems like he’s tired of your ass, he needs a womanly touch,” I playfully insult.

"Oh really? You think you know more about my son than I do?”

“Mmm, I’m not too sure. I mean, I don’t have any kids, yet I somehow knew your baby was teething before you did…weird, right?” I mock his sarcasm.

"Yeah, right. Like you, some lonely ass woman who's got no kids can know more about my own son than me, even though you haven't even spent an hour with him yet,” He scoffed back, “I bet you don't even know that he started a new habit recently."

“Ouch, I am not lonely!” I chuckle, “I have two cats, actually. They’re great companions. And what’s this new habit he started? I’m curious,” I reply.

"He’s really into Doc Mcstuffins, as you can currently hear in my background. He also started chewing his thumb. He'll do it when he gets fussy, or he can't get to sleep...” he said. I could hear the smile in his voice as he talked about Megumi.

“I hope you didn’t take that baby’s pacifier away before he was ready. He’s looking for it, asshole!” I insult, “That’s why he’s chewing on his thumb. You should try putting his pacifier in the freezer and then giving it to him. He’ll love that. And yes, I am a cat lady, better than a fussy man around my house, eating all my food and paying no damn bills!”

"Hey, I didn't take his pacifier away! I would never do that to him. But you're right, I haven't tried the freezer thing with his pacifier yet before. I should do that soon, and see how he takes it."

“Good. The coldness on his teeth will really help that process of them coming in. See, maybe he ran to me because he needed a girly touch to things. The boy knows what he wants in a woman,” I hum.

"Mmm, I think he just wanted to see if he could get a better reaction out of you. I guess he was bored of me. Although, the only type of 'girly touch' I can imagine you doing to a guy is kicking him. You seem far too aggressive for someone that wants to be seen with more of a ‘womanly touch’.”

“Oh god. You did not just hit me with the angry black woman trope. Megumi was practically in love with me. Don’t act like you don’t like my aggression and hostility, otherwise you wouldn’t be on the phone with me,” I laugh.

He laughs, “Nah. It’s not like that. Maybe aggression is kind of 'my thing.' I do have a little bit of a kink for that..." He said, teasing me again.

“Mhm, exactly. I know you think it’s a little sexy, so shut up,” I reply, “ But, I guess to prove that he is in fact in love with me, a second interaction is needed.”

"A second interaction? So you think you're definitely going to win his heart this time, huh?"

“I’ve already won it. And if I don’t, you can laugh in my face for it, hm?” I suggest.

“Imma’ have to set up a second interaction then, just to see which one of us is the winner. I’m not finna’ let you take the heart of my son! I have too much pride for that."

“It’s a deal then. Give me a time, and I’ll be there,” I hum, feeling completely comfortable in this conversation.

"How about... in 3 days. Does that work for you?" I could suddenly hear a flirtatious vibe in his voice.

Three days felt like a very short time. I don’t know why I went from being comfortable to nervous. To be able to actually see this man in person again, it made me…intimidated. But it also made me very curious.

“Mmm, in three days? I think I can do that. Make sure everything’s together in my shop, so I can have all the time for you and your little miniature self,” I chuckle.

"I'll make sure everything is prepared then. But you also better prep yourself as well, you don't know what to expect fuckin’ with me,” he speaks cockily, my eyes rolling at his confident tone.

“You say that as if I’m supposed to be intimidated. I think you should be more worried about handling me, Toji…” I drawled his name sultrily, wanting to play him at his own game.

“Oh for real? And why exactly should I be worried about handling you?" he questioned, his cocky tone returning.

“I’m a shower more than a teller. Guess I’ll just leave that in mystery now.”

"If that's the case, then it seems like I have three days to figure out what kind of woman you actually are before we 'compete' for Megumi's love’,” He said.

“Mmm, I don’t know. Maybe I’ll answer the phone, maybe I won’t,” I playfully responded.

"Then I guess I should make sure I stay near the phone the entire weekend, huh? You really want to win Megumi over? Or is it something else?"

“Don’t turn this around on me. Now, I fell in love with little Megumi. It’s a plus that his father is incredibly sexy, so, maybe I am looking for more. But so are you,” I speak slowly, flirting into the phone.

"Be more specific when you tell me what you want from me.”

I raise my eyebrows. Why the fuck did that kinda arouse me?

I clear my throat as I reply, “Damn. You making demands already? So dominant. You want everything your way, I can tell,” I point out, “But, maybe I’m…interested in you romantically as well. God, I should’ve lied, I can feel that cocky ass smirk on your face as I speak.”

“I am dominant,” he corrects me, “But repeat what you said. Are you romantically interested in me?”

I roll my eyes, “Yes, Toji. Happy?”

“Very.”

“Mhm. I think you like that idea a little too much. But, it’s unfortunate that I have to get off the phone. I have to go handle some infuriated customer at the shop, mentally preparing myself for the bullshit as we speak,” I sigh.

“Damn. This late?”

“This late. My shop runs overnight too, my artists love making some money.”

“Me and your artists have that in common… I wanted to talk to you a little bit longer,” he admits.

“Seems like someone’s more interested than they make themselves to be,” I flirtatiously hum, “But seriously, I do have to go. I’m sorry. You’ll see me in three days, so…think on that.”

"I'll be thinking about you for the next three days."

“Goodbye, Toji.” I smiled, hanging up with a small flush on my cheeks. I press my hands to my face as I lay out on the couch, laughing to myself in embarrassment. Dammit. I was such a softy.

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏~♡

“OKAY. OKAY. FUCK. OKAY, THIS IS GOOD, RIGHT?”

I stand in the mirror of my bedroom, twisting and turning my body as I stare at myself. The black corset clung to my figure. The long skirt I wear is equally tight as my hips struck out, my right hip peeking through from the high slit on one side.

“I mean, it’s not too much, right?” I frown at myself.

“Girl, I’d fuck you. You look amazing,” my friend compliments.

“Thank you. But I’m not looking for him to fuck me, ma’am. I actually…find myself liking him.”

“Ooh, the Ice Queen has a heart?”

“….I might want him to shake my uterus loose. Just a little bit,” I admit.

My friend laughs, “That’s what I thought. But seriously, you look beautiful, Oni’. If he doesn’t want you, we’ll go out to the bar and find a man that does!”

“Thank you. But I don’t want a drunken idiot. I want him,” I say honestly.

My ginger hair comes down in wavy layers as I brush my fingers through it. The color compliments my winged eyes, lips a dark shade of mauve. I hope I can survive in the skimpy strapless heel I wear, a small pink bow on the front straps. I blew out a breath.

“What if he—“

“Girl. You said you were practically caked up with him until damn near five a.m. If the man doesn’t like you, he’s insane.”

I try to shake my insecurities as I exhale, “You’re right. Okay. I’m gonna go, I love you. If I don’t text back in the next two hours, put a police report out on me!”

“Or you’re getting criminally fucked,” my friend smirks.

“You’re disgusting, and that was a horrible pun. Goodbye.”

I hang up the phone, spraying myself of my vanilla perfume as I take another spin in the mirror. I knew I looked good, I just hoped that he felt the same way. Grabbing the small gift bag, I grab my keys as I quickly make my way out of the door.

My heart stammers in my chest as I turn the music up in my Lamborghini, speeding down the road to block out the noise in my head. I usually never had an issue with presenting myself to anyone, especially a man. Why was he any different?

As I think to myself, I look down at the map on the screen of my radio, looking up to see that I was pulling in what looked to be an extremely wealthy neighborhood. All the houses seemed to be older, simple and light colored as I slowed myself down the road. One particular house stood out. As I came to the end of the neighborhood, the last house stood by itself, spaced out between all the others. It was all black, contemporarily styled as it was flat unlike the other houses that were pointed. Most of the walls within this house were glass, my eyes able to see into the home that had all black furniture, marble granite counters and other lavish items. I raised my eyebrow as the map confirmed that I had made it to my destination.

“What the hell…”

I pull my car into the circular driveway, parking next to the three cars that slanted above the grey brick on the ground. They were an all black, matte wrapped Rolls Royce, G-Wagon and a Corvette.

“Huh,” I muttered to myself.

I stepped out of the car, holding my skirt as I slowly made my way up to the front door. My heart began stammering itself again, I took a deep breath as I rang the doorbell. The longer it took for the door to open, the more I thought about just walking away and going home.

The door then swings open, my eyes following up to that same darkly attractive face. This time, with no clothes. He stood there in a dark red towel covering his lower half, using another towel as he dried his onyx hair. My eyes glanced down to the tattoo I’d previously seen, watching it snake all the way up to the side of his neck. The body that I’d see before was now in full view, more perfectly toned and defined up close. His veins traveled in his arms, flexing as he dried himself off.

“Hey, Pretty. I’m sorry for not being ready, Megumi’s pacifier went missing before I put him down for his morning nap, so that fucked up my track of time. You would’ve thought that shit was world war three,” he explains. He eyes me up and down as he then takes my hand, kissing my palm. “You look fuckin’ gorgeous.”

“Thank you,” I replied, “And it’s fine…did you find it?”

I try to distract myself as my eyes flicker down to the bulge that stares back at me, bigger than I’d imagine it to be.

“Yeah, in his damn toy box. Let me get dressed, I’ll come meet you back downstairs. Come in.”

I nod my head, watching as he turns away and begins walking down the hall, my upper body leaning into the door as I watch him.

“You still lookin’?” He calls teasingly, obviously noticing my eyes.

“Mhm…” I call back, watching as he disappears down the hallway.

Closing the door behind myself, I notice that all of his shoes are by the front. I take that as a sign that he doesn’t allow shoes on his floor, removing my heels next to the outrageously smaller shoes next to his. My eyes take in the up-close scenery of this house, all black architecture with minimalist decoration. Paintings of women with no faces lay along his walls, silver electronics sat on the tables, leading up to a TV as big as a theater screen. My ears catch attention to the music dancing all around the house, I nearly roll my eyes.

“Of course this motherfucker listens to Brent,” I mutter.

I sit the small gift bag I have against the table, leaning myself on the end as I continue to stare at his home. My eyes come back down as he now appears, fully dressed in a black long sleeve and matching sweatpants.

“The present is for Megumi I’m assuming? Kiss ass,” he disses.

I roll my eyes, “Whatever, hater. Don’t be mad cause you didn’t think of it!”

“What’s in there?” He repeats, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well, since you think I’m such a kiss ass, I thought I’d buy some Silicone Teethers for your baby, and to help your big headed ass.”

“My head’s that big?”

“Anyways, I figured these would be better for soothing the pain. You can put these in the freezer. I also got him a new pacifier as well.”

“Cute,” is all he says, his gaze shifting down my body.

“Where’s Megumi?” I then raise my eyebrows, “You’re easily distracted.”

“I can’t help myself,” he shrugs, “He’s still down from his nap earlier.”

“Mmm,” I reply back, scanning him up and down as I compliment, “You have a nice ass house. But what do you do for work? I mean, luxury cars, inputted speakers in the ceiling? You in the mafia or something?”

“You’re half right, but it’s not always mafia related work.”

“Oh hell. I was joking,” I reminded him, “You’re serious?”

“And I get paid damn well for it.”

“And you trust me to keep this secret?”

“You can do whatever you want with that information, see where it gets you.”

“Ooh, boy. Please don’t get smacked,” I threaten.

“I appreciate the stuff you got him, seriously. Thank you. Tryna’ play mommy already?” He grins.

“You wish. The hopeless romantic you are, Toji,” I sigh, “Haven’t even been around me for an hour yet. Sure you aren’t falling in love already?”

“Who said that I wasn’t? I’m a grown ass man, I like you. And?”

He came closer to me as I still leaned against the end of the table, hovering over my frame as he stared down at me. I grinned to myself, “Well I might like you too, but I like playing hard to get.”

“That’s cool, I like to play with my prey before I catch it,” He plays back with me.

I raise my eyebrows, “You’re one arrogant bastard, aren’t you?”

The natural flirtation had returned. I raise my hand out as I place it at the bottom of his shirt, twisting as I tug him forward.

“You like it,” he comes even closer, bringing his eyes down to my lips as he leans in. I then pressed my hand against his lips as I stopped him from kissing me, giggling sultrily as I said, “I think you should go get your son, Toji.”

“Nah, I shouldn’t.”

I shake my head, amused at his now irritated face as I push him back and say, “You should. I’ll be here.”

“You better be,” he gruffly responds, turning as he makes his way back down the hallway of his house. I blew out a breath, my composure coming down as I felt my heart slowly speeding itself up. As I looked around, I began to wonder how many women had been in this house. It wasn’t my business, but I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t one of his conquests.

I turn my head as I hear footsteps making their way back towards the living room, ridding my mind of all the thoughts I had.

“You look nervous,” he notices.

“Not at all,” I lied.

I look behind him as I hear small footsteps clumsily making their way into the living room, my heart melting all over again as Megumi appears. He wears a brown wool onesie, the hoodie attached to the neck part having animal ears that looked to be bears. He wears a small golden chain around his wrist.

“Don’t ask about the onesie, the boy loves his teddy bears,” Toji shakes his head.

Instead of coming straight towards me, we both watched as Megumi stumbled around the room, observing everything that he could as he walked around. His cheeks were fat and full, movements reckless as he was bumping into things by accident.

I slowly squat down as I smile softly, “Hi, handsome. Miss me?”

Megumi's head quickly turned around as he heard me, his big golden eyes now meeting mine. Excitement comes along his soft face, a squeak releasing from his lips as he nearly falls over, staggering to me. I laugh shockingly as I catch him in my arms, picking him up as I squeeze gently.

"Ah shit. He likes you,” Toji smacks his lips.

“Mmm, I think he does, too. Now, didn’t you say that we were betting on winning his affection? Cause I think I’m doing pretty well. He recognized me all the way from the grocery store.”

“I think you’ve won the bet.”

“I know I did,” Megumi wraps his small arms around my neck and hair, leaning himself against my chest. I cooed, “Hi, sweetheart. I got you something, wanna see?” I knew that he couldn’t respond, but I still wanted to communicate with him.

“Look,” I turn, sitting him against the large black table, pulling out the teether I mentioned earlier. I also grabbed the small rattle I hadn’t mentioned to Toji, placing it in his hand. I take his wrist as I gently shook it from side to side to show him what to do. Megumi began to shake it around, his eyes lighting up with excitement as he did so.

“I think I might’ve chosen the wrong toy for your Daddy’s sake. Seems like he won’t be sleeping for a while,” I whisper, playfully rubbing my finger against Megumi’s cheek.

I could hear him chuckling behind me, coming forward as he kissed the baby's cheek, “You like everything, lil’ man?”

“Hm?” I then lift the cold pacifier I have in the bag as well as other cold toys, placing it in his mouth. The baby hummed softly in response, causing me to smile, turning to Toji as I spoke, “He really does like everything!”

“I can tell, you like everything, hm?” He then raises the baby up in the air, giggles flying all around the room. I laugh quietly at their interaction.

“So, how many women have you played house with like this?” I can’t keep this question to myself anymore.

He holds Megumi to his chest as he hears my question, raising his eyebrow as he replies, “Many women, if you really wanna know.”

That made me roll my eyes as he then continued, “But don’t act like you haven’t had as many men in comparison.”

“Mmm, I actually haven’t. But as for you, that’ll be an issue if you expect me to take you seriously,” I tilt my head.

“What are you trying to say?”

I sigh. “You’re sexy, Toji. I’m not stupid to think you don’t have multiple notches on that bed post of yours, you have a child, for god’s sake. Your sexual appetite is probably…hungry at all times. Especially if you had a woman crazy enough to moan that she wanted your child. But seriously, I don’t care about that. I just wanna make sure I’m not another one of your conquests, cause if that’s the case, we can cut this interaction extremely short.”

The amusement on his face makes a glare almost come to mine. When he notices that I’m entirely serious he comes forward as he says “You aren’t,” affirming my suspicion.

“We’ll see,” I then hum. “So, were we gonna spend the rest of the day with Megumi? Or did you want me all to yourself, you did seem a little jealous on the phone,” I tease.

"I would actually like to spend some alone time with you...but if you're okay with just spending the rest of the day with Megumi, I'm fine with that too,” he replies, shrugging as he awaits my answer.

“Mmm, I think I can spend some time with you, Daddy,” I said sultrily, “Where will Megumi be?”

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he warns, “Think I’ll probably put him down for his evening nap.”

“Sure. He seems to be…already there,” I giggle as I then notice Megumi passed out on Toji’s chest.

“I’ll go put him down. Want a glass of wine? I don’t do that expensive shit, it isn’t all that good…do you drink Stella Rose?” He asks.

I place my hands on my chest as I sigh dreamily, “You had me at Stella Rose.”

“Yes ma’am,” he nods, making his way back down the hallway. He then came back and went into the kitchen. I sat myself along the sofa, my eyes sweeping over his large arms, wondering how strong he was. I could feel a chill go down my spine at the thought.

I take the glass out of his hand as I see he also poured himself a glass of brown liquor, “Thank you,” pressing my lips up to the sweet drink. He sits himself against the sofa next to me, scooting me closer to him as he pulls my legs over his thigh.

“So, tell me, what’s the plan for you in a couple of years. You mentioned your….illegal activities, anything else you wanna do career wise?” I curiously ask.

“Mmm, own a jet, build an enterprise, be able to buy Megumi anything he wants under the sun. And…time travel,” he shrugs, sipping his drink.

“I’m assuming you have a plan…” he asks curiously, finding my topic to be intriguing.

“Well, eventually. My business is doing great as of right now. All my artist get paid pretty well for their work, so I want to get to a point where I can open multiple shops nationwide. I’ll have managers for those shops, not even have to do any of the work. Just watch the money roll in,” I shrug.

“Sounds like you’re pretty confident in yourself.”

“I’m pretty cocky when it comes to my career, I’ll admit. I’m a badass tattoo artist, the work speaks for itself. My pen is fucking dangerous,” I admit, taking another sip of my wine, giggling to myself. I was becoming a little tipsy, I knew that.

“I hope you really got the skills to back it up then,” he grins.

“Of course. All the ink on my body, I’ve done myself.”

He scans my body, noticing all the ink upon it. He then asks, “What’s your biggest piece?”

“For sure my tiger. As you can see it kinda swims to my thigh,” I refer to the red ink that scales my skin, “Everything else was kinda out of pure boredom. But pure boredom caused that scar on my ass, so,” I laugh.

"You’re saying that you have more pieces due to pure boredom alone..." He repeated with a soft chuckle, finding it funny. When I mentioned the scar on my ass, he burst out laughing.

"How in the hell...did you get a scar on your ass?" He asked, unable to stop laughing.

“I tried to do a tattoo on my ass and went too hard with the needle. It’s a sad story,” I pout.

" Were you drunk at the time or something?"

I smack his arm as he still laughs, “Hey! Laughing is not allowed. I pride myself on tattooing in any state of mind. But…maybe I was a bit inebriated,” I admit, taking another sip of wine.

“You’re crazy…”

“I have a nice ass, what can I say? I thought some ink would look nice on there,” I shrug, laughing with him.

“I’ll agree, that ass is something else,” he shrugs, finishing off his drink.

“Oh? So you admit you’ve been looking at my ass?” I raise my eyebrow, “And oh, c’mon! I’m sure you have a bad drunk story.”

“Nothing as wild as your shit,” he chuckles.

“Whatever,” I shrug, “Back to this time travel thing, were you serious?”

“Kinda…you know in mythology, time travel is real.”

“Oh god, are you tipsy?” I joke, “Hm. Well, what would you do if you had the ability to time travel?”

“Probably travel back to a time where my family was alive. I’d change a lot,” he responds.

“Pretty understanding. To meet the people that created you is a wondrous adventure, I’d assume. Or a horrible idea. Same difference. I’d steal the Statue of Liberty or something, I don’t give a damn if it’s an important artifact. The bitch is terrifying,” I finish off my glass of wine.

“Something we can agree on. You uh…good on the wine?” He tilts his head.

“Boy, please. I drink wine like I drink water. And what the hell were you drinking? Does it turn you into a monster or something?”

He shakes his head, chuckling. “Nah, nothing like that. It was just Crown. Shit just makes me a little more flirty and outspoken.”

“So your regular self, then?”

“Exactly.”

“So how are you feeling right now then? About me?” I ask curiously.

“About you?” He repeats, thinking to himself, “I’d say I find you pretty charming, funny, sexy. All of the above.”

“And…you’re physically attracted to me?” I lean closer to him, a warmth over my entire body that only happened when I drank. Damn you Stella Rose.

“I’d be lying if I wasn’t, Oni’.”

“Well good, cause I find you pretty attractive as well,” I smile, “If you remember, you um…tried to kiss me before you brought Megumi out,” I mentioned.

“Did I?” He replies, a sarcasm along his face. Now he was playing with me. “I think you liked that shit, didn’t you?”

“I did. I think… I might want you to test your luck again…” I tempted.

“Really?” He grins, seeing as I have a new set of confidence within myself, eyeing me up and down as I crawl closer to him.

“Mhm,” I sat my wine glass down, pushing myself up as I now straddled his lap. I placed his hands on my hips.

His eyes widened slightly, fingers gripping around my hips yet he said nothing as he watched me. I then asked, “What’s wrong?” trailing my finger down his chest, bringing my eyes up innocently.

“…Nothing…” he stumbles, still unable to say more than that.

“What happened to that cocky man that always wanted things his way, hm? I think I miss him…” I trail off, biting back my smile.

“Yeah? That’s what you want?” His eyes come down, staring down at my lips. I could tell that he was tempted to kiss me, and if being honest, I really wanted him to.

“I mean…Toji…” I slowly come forward, hovering my lips right above his as I speak, “If you wanna kiss me…come take what you want.”

It’s almost as if the suggestion made something in him snap. The urge that had been slowly building up was now in control of him, as he leaned forward, closing the tiny distance between our mouths. But instead of just taking what he wanted from me, he started to gently brush his lips against mine in a slower, softer way. With all the flirting I did earlier to get to him, it was his time to do the same.

His lips slowly ran against mine, teasingly touching my bottom lip before he moved to the top one as well. It felt all too enticing. His teasing caused me to grip the bottom of his shirt, twisting it slightly as he made me aroused. I whimpered at this movement embarrassingly, wanting to pull him closer. He couldn't help but smirk. He slowly grabbed my hips as he brought himself closer to me. I wanted more.

“Don’t play with me,” I beg, “Kiss me.”

"I think I'll keep playing..." He countered, thankfully having no plans to keep me waiting any longer. His hands gripped my hips tightly as he moved his mouth against mine, passion flooding in. My words had caused him to lose control of himself, and the flirty talk from earlier was nowhere in sight. He also wanted more. Badly.

I moved my lips with his, nearly losing my senses as his tongue was in my mouth, taking control of the kiss as if he were trying to assert his dominance. I relaxed in his hold, allowing myself to submit to him. I was in a trance. I’d never been so aroused from just a kiss, the ache between my thighs beginning to grow as I slowly grind myself against him, moaning softly at the feeling.

He was practically filled with adrenaline. His hands gripped tightly around my hips as my moan echoed in the room, he moaned softly in response to my movement. His lips ran aggressively against mine, tongue exploring my mouth. When he pulled back, I now felt his lips along my throat, holding the side of my neck as he sucked the skin. I closed my eyes and breathed harshly, “T—Toji…I think you’re a little drunk…” I giggle, my breath hitching intensely.

"Yeah...maybe I am a little bit..." He muttered softly against my neck as he continued to lightly suck, enjoying the way I was reacting to his actions. He definitely wasn't stopping what he was doing, now biting my flesh.

I moaned at the slight pain from him biting the skin, feeling myself becoming more aroused. I could feel my corset lowering, my nipples being exposed to him and my face flushed in embarrassment as I tried to pull the material up. I kept thinking, was this gonna lead to sex? Was I ready for that with him?

“Toji…I just…wait,” I breathed, his mouth all over my skin, “I just…wanna make sure that this is the right time for us to do this…” I kept talking, moaning as he continued to touch me.

"Well...” He breathed out in between kisses, “When do you think is the right time?"

“I don’t know…I—guess there isn’t necessarily a t—time,” I responded, aroused at every touch he made against my skin, I moaned again for him as I whimpered, “S—so…good…”

I knew the way I answered with a stutter caused his eyebrow to raise in curiosity, deciding to probe a little further. His hands roamed all over my body as his kisses traced my neck, speaking to me in a flirty tone.

"So...you're telling me...that it doesn't necessarily matter the time when we do this? Because...if that's the case..." He sighed, hands sliding down to my thighs.

“N—no…” I shivered, realizing that he was now messing with me. I wanted him to continue. Dammit. Why was I nervous again? I could barely respond back to him. I inhaled a sharp breath as I then felt his hand find my hair, tugging as he used his other hand to grip my throat, pulling me close to his face.

"Ahh...so now you're getting scared..." he whispered into my ear.

“I’m not scared…” I panted, trying to remove his hand from my throat as he gripped a bit tighter, pulling me so close to his face as he cockily smiled. I couldn’t help it, I loved the way he was talking to me.

"You sure?" His hand readjusted with the intent to squeeze harder if I kept resisting.

“M’…not scared of you, Toji…” I gritted out my teeth.

The way I spoke made him smirk even more at my words. He wanted to hear me say something.

"Oh? Well, what are you scared of, then?" He whispered softly against my ear, the hand that was previously in my hair sliding up my thighs, squeezing my ass gently.

I was nervous to actually admit this. I then closed my eyes as I responded, “How r—rough you can be…” I admit. I was intimidated by him, but it only excited me more.

"That’s how you want it?"

I nodded my head, shivering at his mouth against my ear, “Yes, please.” I nodded again.

I barely had time to react. My breath hitched as he then flipped our positions on the sofa, I grunt as he bent me over the furniture, pushing my back inward so I arched my body against him. He ripped my skirt off of my legs, my ears hearing the material shred lightly. I jump as he spanks the skin of my thigh.

“So polite…”

“Toji…I…”

I took in another sharp breath as he pulled me upwards to where my back met with his chest, his hand coming around from behind as it gripped my throat, pulling me close to him. He used his other hand as he ripped the lace of my underwear apart, the fabric trickling down to the ground. My eyes flicked upwards to the wall across from us. I could see myself in full view. He twisted my hair in his fist, tugging me up to look in his eyes. Leaning down, he spread my flesh apart with his fingers as he attached his mouth between my legs, immediately sucking on my clit. I closed my eyes as a moan plummeted from my lips. I arched myself forward, his hand in my hair pulling me backwards onto his tongue, mouth creating a sloshing sound against my core. I groaned at the feeling, swaying my hips to match his movement. He grunted against my skin, spanking his palm down on my ass in repetitions.

My stomach cramped as I tensed, arching myself down to see him from behind me. His eyes flicked up to mine, a grin surfacing against my skin. He closed his eyes as he placed his hands under my legs, pulling me backwards as he moaned, full on making out with my lower lips, tongue continuously dipping in and out of my opening.

“‘Shit ain’t never tasted so good, baby. Never had anything like you. Imma eat your shit until you squirt,” he groans.

It’s unfortunate that I wasn’t too long from doing that. I could barely hold myself together, circling my hips onto his face, his tongue lapping as if he starved for me, ached for me. He was chaotic in the best way, face diving entirely into me, sucking harshly on my clit as he gripped my hips, grinding me against his tongue. I could feel myself gushing before I could realize. He encourages, “Yeah, baby. She listening to me, huh?”

I shuddered against him, taking in the breath I’d lost as he now fully stands. He removed his shirt, throwing it to the side as he brought his eyes to mine.

“Come take these off, see what’s finna’ be yours soon.”

I turn fully, seeing him back up. “Crawl,” he demands.

The heat in my body turned up with every word he said. I lower myself off the sofa, placing my hands in front of each other as my legs sultrily follow, flicking my eyes up to his as I pull his sweatpants down. His length springs in front of my face, bigger than I’d seen from his bulge earlier. It was heavy in my hand as I immediately brought my fingers around it, his hand coming back into my hair as he tugged my eyes upwards, “You want it in your mouth?”

“Yes,” I nodded.

“Of course you fuckin’ do,” he pulls my jaw open, sliding himself in between my lips, filling my mouth until I felt him in the back of my throat. He grunts, my mouth bobbing against his hips as I choke, humming out the drool releasing from the sides of my lips.

I tried my best to keep up with his movements, swaying my neck back and forward as I closed my eyes, moaning as he fixed himself to the back of my throat. He pulls out from my mouth, slapping himself against my tongue as he speaks, “Treating this shit like it already belongs to you, hm?”

I nod my head. He leans himself down as he slides his hand to where it meets the side of my face, keeping a slight grip of my jaw beneath his fingers. I had never seen myself be this immediately submissive towards a man. But I also didn’t feel bad about it either.

“Wanna put it back in your mouth, or you want me to fuck you?”

“Fuck me.”

“Please?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Please,” I softly repeat myself.

“That’s what I thought,” he replies smugly, lightly smacking the side of my cheek. I have the urge to roll my eyes, nipples hardening at the hand along my face.

As I’m back against the sofa, I turn myself to face the mirror to see my expression was now purely filled with lust, wanting to fulfill the fantasy I imagined every time I stared at him. He follows behind me as he brings his hand to back of my neck. I had no room to argue as he leaned me forward, my nipples pressing against the leather material. He takes his other hand as he grips my hip, tip bobbing up and down gently along my folds. He pushed himself in inch by inch, stretching me in a way I’d never felt before, causing my mouth to drop open. I gasped loudly. I felt a deep pinch in my lower stomach, the feeling equally overriding in a deep sense of pleasure. I whimpered loudly, “Tojiii…”

He couldn't help but grin at the way I reacted to him. His grip around my throat became tighter when he heard these things, my shivering continuing as our hips met one another. Chills crawled up my spine. He moved slowly at first, taking his time as it caused me to drag out a moan, feeling every single pleasure from him. I closed my eyes, using the sofa as leverage as I found something to hold onto. “Oh god…”

His gentle movement allowed this feeling to last a lifetime. My moans seemed to be something that he found extremely hot, planning to continue the pace to keep it going for as long as possible. His hand circled around to the front of my throat, continuing to move against me, not speeding it up just yet. I wasn’t sure if I wanted more or if this was just as perfect.

“Oh my…” I gasped, trembling as I bit my lip to control my voice. His slow movements were driving me insane, feeling so good. I couldn’t hide the amount of pleasure I felt as I kept talking to him, “Baby…” I called, finding another term of endearment for him, “F—Feels so good,” I nodded my head.

“I know.”

I continued to gasp, shake, moan, and whimper. He knew it was driving me insane, wanting to keep moving slowly for as long as possible. My words were more than enough to fill his ego. He continued to go at the same pace for a bit, then began to speed up. He was curious to see just how much more pleasure he could make me feel.

My grip on the sofa became tighter. He loosened his hold on my throat as he then moved that same hand upwards as he slid his fingers in my mouth, using the leverage to pull me back against him. I then began helping him, moving myself back to match his rhythm, causing me to moan a bit louder.

“Toji….” Is all I could say, my head falling back as I moaned, his fingers shoving deeper in my throat. I lost control of my own rhythm, the leverage he had against me stronger as he bounced me back onto him. My eyes fluttered shut as I gasped from the feeling, whining as I continued to filthily bounce against him. I babbled, “Toji…baby…my god….” I just couldn’t stop myself. I slowly began to feel pleasurable tears forming in my eyes.

"Is that all you can say at this point? Is that what I've reduced you to? Just a simple whimper and my name?” He says back to me, continuing to thrust himself back in. His rhythm became faster as he dragged me back down more aggressively. My noises became louder, more feminine and filled with pleasure. He was right. I couldn’t stop moaning his name. He then added another hand to my throat, now gripping it harder this time with two hands as I bounced back and forth.

“Toji…I—I can’t…” I panted, whining as I wrapped my hand around one of his wrists, neither of his hands letting up from their hold against my throat. I looked up as I could see the mirror across from the sofa, my eyes closing embarrassingly as I could see myself. My flustered and submissive face. When I saw Toji noticing my stare, I grunted as he forcefully pointed my face to the mirror, now snapping his hips into mine.

“You’re a big girl, Oni’. I know you can talk to me. You can't do what?” He asks, “Look at you, big girl” . He keeps my face up to my reflection, “Taking my dick like this. Your pussy is gripping the fuck out of me. She likes it, so I know you do. Keep whining. I love that shit.”

I closed my eyes, unable to hold myself together anymore. I cried out, “Oh my goddd. I love the way you’re fucking me, baby. Yes,” I groaned, crying out louder as he never stopped his movements.

He smiled as I cracked beneath him, my moans uncontrollable at this point. The way I cried out for him was a way I never responded to any man in bed. His hands now tightened around my throat in a way that it was almost too much, yet there was no second of my mouth shutting. I just kept going.

“I hate you,” I cried, “You’re making me feel so… fucking good,” I moaned loudly, my eyes unable to snatch themselves away from his face in the mirror.

His grip finally loosened a bit, still remaining firm as he started to go even faster against me. His low laugh echoed along the room in a way that heightened my embarrassment. However, he'd keep going anyway.

He pulled me upward and close to his chest, holding me firmly as he fucked me. My ears listened as he brought his lips to them, speaking filthily, "You know you love it when I choke you, right? You like the fact that I take control…You like being used by me..”

I closed my eyes, whimpering and crying like a baby. I nodded my head as I trembled, “Yes. Yes. Yesssss…” was all I could make out.

Our bodies were in unison, his ego most likely in the high heavens by now. The way he spoke filthily into my ear would only cause him to hit more buttons, he held my face tightly in his hold, voice right in my ear. He spoke into it, sending chills down my spine.

"Say it, baby…”

“…Say..what…” I panted heavily, bringing my eyes away from the mirror.He was implausible, never slowing down his movements. I was listening.

"Say you belong to me..." He spoke in a firm tone, holding both of my hands down behind my back as he kept up with his movements.

“N—no,” I stuttered, biting my lip as I lowered my head. He used the leverage he had on my arms pulled behind me and pulled me up again, forcing me to look at myself in the mirror as he bounced me back onto him harder than before. I whined, my entire body trembling beneath him. The fact that I didn't immediately obey his commands caught his attention, as he'd grip me harder to make me look at myself as well as him. The bouncing back and forth on the sofa made my muscles weak as he kept going, speaking to me through both the mirror and his own mouth.

"Such a stubborn girl...do you want to be owned by me, or do I need to break you first..."

I closed my eyes, saying nothing in response. I could feel the arrogance pouring off of him, a low sob releasing from my chest as he tugged me back against him, my arms begging to be released from his hold. His smirk grew even more as I didn't respond to his words, keeping me close to his body. He knew I enjoyed every second of this.

“My fuckin’ god….Daddy,” I whined, my entire body purely hot from embarrassment as I called him this, his movements making me submissively chaotic. I watched him in the mirror, unable to hold myself together as I kept babbling, “I’m yours, baby. It’s yours. All of it. Just don’t stop. My god. Don’t stop.”

I spoke all of this into the mirror. I meant every word I said. His hips plummeted into mine, merciless as our skin slapped together. My entire vision filled with the image of my own body, hot and trembling, as he continued to go.

“Tell me I’m yours, I love when you talk to me. Tell me I’m fucking yours,” I cry, knowing I’d hate myself later for it, “Tell me I’m a good girl, I’m listening, you make me feel so good. No one has…” I took in another breath, “Ever made me f—feel this good.”

"You're mine," he spoke now, sounding more aggressive and demanding.

“Say it again,” I beg, seeing the tears in my face as I looked in the mirror, biting my lip as I couldn’t stop moaning.

He smirked as I begged. He knew I would despise myself later on, but the words made him smile even more. It all filled him with so much arrogance.

“You’re mine.” He repeated this to me, drilling himself between my hips, skin wetly coming together each time he was inside me.

“Yes. I’m yours baby, all yours. Yes. Yes. Yes.…” I said through each movement, crying out in a way I’d never heard myself before.

"And you belong to me?” He asks, grin on his face as he'd make the movements a bit slower. As if he was teasing me for the next answer.

“Nobody else, Daddy,” my tears poured in a quick stream, dropping down onto the sofa as he had his way with me.

The way he heard these words, the way I answered him so quickly. I knew for a fact that I’d never forget tonight, and he knew that I’d be begging for him again soon. Very soon.

“I’m so close….I’m gonna…please don’t stop, Toji. Please…” I called to him, full on crying now, my body trembling so hard that I had to firmly hold myself up.

"Beg me..." he demanded. He was moving slower, as if he was teasing me even more. There was no tiredness in his voice, as I was becoming extremely exhausted from each movement he made against me.

“I’m begging, baby. Please. I’ll never stop fucking begging,” I cried, dragging out my words.

"Good girl..." he spoke, a chuckle hiding in his tone. My tension began to rise, my body becoming harder and harder to hold as he was still going slow. His grip on my throat didn't loosen this time, holding onto me firmly. I could feel that same pinch beginning to build in the pit of my stomach, begging to be released from his pleasurable touch.

My body relaxed, my wet eyes shutting and taking him as he sped up again. I giggled as I whined, “That’s it , baby. Just the way I wanted it. Yessss.”

"Just a little bit more..."

“Yes…just a little more…I’m gonna….” My wet eyes cascaded tears from them, looking up into the mirror as I watched him. “Look at me, look how good you’re making me feel, I…I’ll never think about anyone else…”

He moaned at my words. The way he made me see myself in the mirror, he knew this was exactly what I wanted. His movements became more sloppy, tugging me back and forth in a way he didn’t care, like he hated me. He wanted me to beg for him again.

“I….just…don’t stop. Right there…that’s my spot…you’re hitting it so good…” I whined, my body shivering chaotically.

"Is that a good spot for you, baby?" A cockiness had never left his voice, almost mocking mine. He angled himself as he lowered down, swiveling his hips into me, my hips wining as they followed his motion.

“Y-es,” my voice broke as I spoke back, hiccuping my cries, “I’m falling in love with the way you’re fucking me….” I jumbled out, not even hearing my own words as they came out in moans. He slowly pulled himself out as he then slammed back into me. No noise releases from my mouth as it’s now agape, eyes rolling to the back of my head as if I were possessed.

“Toji…I’m close…” I bit my lip again, fluttering my wet eyes, my body unable to hold itself up.

“Don’t tell me something I already know. Look at that pretty fucking face,” he forces my eyes up to the mirror again, twisting his hand in my hair as he turned my ear to his lips. His voice was like a sinister taunt in my mind, reading how much power he had over me as he continued, “Squirt all over my dick. Paint it like it’s finna’ be yours. It is yours,” he grips my hair tighter, pulling himself out slowly as he moans, “Look at you, baby, creaming my shit. Looks like you want to cum. Might have to give you more than that,” he doesn’t stop. He slams back in, bouncing me back with just one hand as he promises, “Megumi needs a sibling. Might just give you a fucking baby.”

I screamed. I screamed in a way that I never screamed before. My body trembled, the pressure at the bottom of my stomach releasing as I orgasmed. I turned my head towards him as I begged, “Kiss me Daddy, please.”

His breath was heavy as he heard me finally reach my climax, he knew all of this was just the result of him keeping me on the edge and teasing for so long. The sound of me screaming with pleasure filled his ear, that fucking scream of mine, it was something that would haunt my memory for a long long time to come. The way I begged him at the end made his grip loosen on my throat, turning his face over to kiss me.

He moaned against my lips, a kiss more intimate than any time before entering my mouth as I felt a warmth filling inside me, his body never completely stopping as we grind against each other. I whimpered as my body relaxed, accepting the kiss further. Making out with this man in a way that I would’ve kissed my husband. I was fucking crazy. As I opened my eyes, I fully saw myself for the first time. My makeup was all over my face, mascara running down my cheeks as I stared at him. My entire face was completely red. I couldn’t believe who I had become. It was as if he could see all of my thoughts. But instead of being empathetic, he simply brought his hand around my throat as he hovered his face over my neck, dragging his tongue along the skin. I laughed sultrily, breathless in my entire being as all I said was, “You really are fuckin’ evil.”

The sound of Megumi crying also filled my ears with his arrogant chuckle. That reaction told me that from that point on, I was indeed fucked.

“Damn right,” he grunted.

#toji smut #toji fushiguro #anime oneshot #anime smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji imagine #jjk toji #toji #toji x black character #black characters #black women #baby megumi #jjk megumi #megumi fushiguro #black stories #reading #writers on tumblr

1K notes · View notes

innorality · 24 days ago

Text

cw // overstim, dumbification, squirting, misuse of df and haki :p

luffy who uses gear 5 in bed for your anniversary and genuinely breaks your mind with it...

he can control reality with his ability... so he decided to use that power properly to fuck you even dumber than he did before! usually, if he wanted you to go dumb, he would use his conquerors haki or simply use his devil fruit to make his dick thicker and longer and hit all the right spots... but ever since he started using his fifth gear, he's been thinking—thinking about how he use it to bend you into positions he could only dream of trying with you, or how to could shape reality to his will, making you go crazy while wondering what's real and what isn't—all he needed was to convince you.

and when he managed to do that, luffy had lost every ounce of self restriction that was left in him. he started of slow and steady, because he knew foreplay was primordial but he got to the real deal, nothing could stop him. he was laughing like a madman hearing you sob for mercy because of the unusual yet pleasurable position he had you in. everything felt too intense, the fabric of reality was ripping apart before your eyes as time and space were shifting one after the other. and suddenly, without a warning, you felt a sudden pressure overcome your body, chills running down your spine as you eyes rolled to the back of your head and drool dribbled down your cheek. every thought and every want your mind could've made up vanished in that moment, simply because luffy's will was overcoming yours and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

he knew you would scold him later for using conquerors haki on you without telling you about it first but it was so worth it—seeing you twitch and whimper helplessly while not even noticing your own orgasm was a sight he was currently carving onto his brain. you felt overwhelmed, overstimulated, like you were about to explode with pleasure.

when he finally stopped everything, your bedroom finally went back to normal and you could finally breath again. you thought you were still twisted but, in fact, you were simply laying in your back, and you hadn't even noticed that you squirted. luffy snickered while deactivating his fifth gear and kissed your cheek,

"must've felt incredible, huh?"

558 notes · View notes

mtcloudsworld · 4 months ago

Text

𝑷𝑨𝑹𝑨𝑫𝑰𝑺𝑬 | nanami.k

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: to put it simply, newlyweds in paradise.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: smut, mdni, +18, adult themes, married couple, vacation, plus!size reader, strong language, public fucking (?) insecurity, grinding, kissing, making out, creampie, p in v, (a tad bit) oral (f receiving), masturbation, fucking pet names: darling, daddy sweetheart, baby, doll

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑: I'm telling y'all nanami could get it anytime, i swear to god. If I had a second chance at life it would be to marry Nanami Kento and have five kids with two dogs and a house somewhere where it's less chaotic, less stress. Side note: I did edit this over a few times but it may need to be edited again. So if you see any errors, kindly ignore them :) thank you!

p.s: thank you for all the love and support y'all have shown in this post, it means the world to me <3<3<3

Give me paradise and Husband!Nanami Kento any time of the day ─ somewhere, anywhere on a tropical island where it's sunny, peaceful, and sweet. Where things are slow and steady, unproblematic. Where life is starting to become more and more easier to handle.

As i walked around the villa in search of my hubsand. The crashing of waves gradually compels me to step out onto the porch past the white double doors. I feel myself absentmindedly inhaled the sweet scent of Jasmine and coconut. I stood there for a good minute just soaking it all in.

Soaking in what could be my future, what could have my life in a chokehold, what could be the start of a new chapter. The moment we looked at the reviews of the villa, they did not disappoint.

From the cleaniness of the land, the people, food and scenery, I fell in love with it all and the idea of starting a whole new life here. The view of the beach had me in awe and at the same time I felt at ease. So far nothing felt out of place or overwhelmingly discomforting.

If I were at home I would feel all the negative side effects that came with it.

Nonetheless, something catches my attention from the corner of my eye

As I turn my head to the left, I see him.

Lounged back in a chair, man-spreading causally dressed in a beige button-up with the first three buttons open and black slacks. A freshly pair of white air force ones and his famous silver watch on his left wrist.

Despite the wind blowing mildly his hair was pushed back in place with a couple of strands in his face. Eyes steadily gazing over the turquoise sea.

I slowly approached him with my heels clicking against the white porch. The tension in his shoulders soon disappeared when he caught a glimpse of me. The look on his face unreadable as he leisurely scans over my body. Selectively watching how my tits jiggle and hips switch with each step I take.

His mouth gaped slightly open, I could see the outline of his tongue dragging across the inside of his cheek to then close and clench his jaw. I even noticed how the muscle in his forearm flexed as his thumb proceeded to crack each finger before stretching them out. I was starting to feel a wave of emotions hit me all at once when he didn't say much. As I stood before him I was unsure if this reaction was of disapproval, shock or astonishment. I ask, "Do you not...like it?" My brows knitted out of concern as I continue to glance over him.

Dumbfounded, he scoffs with a shake of his head, brow raised at my choice of words. "Far from it, darling," He piqued, sitting back and observing me as if he was a guest at a fashion show, pondering over the model's appearance.

"You just look so fucking gorgeous. So perfect." He affirms bluntly. The desire in his orbs don't go unnoticed when they scale up to meet my gaze.

The anxious feeling from within disappears when the ends of his lips curl into a grin. Speechless and shy, I could feel the heat rise to my cheeks.

I could only assume this man was feeling like a dog in heat. Tilting his head sideways, he tells me to give him a little show. His finger moving around in circles I follow his instructions while he admires the roundness of my ass clinged by the very thing that snugged and pronounced every inch of my curves.

I wasn't on board with getting it at first. Due to my own insecurities, I hated how revealing it was. Since I wasn't used to skin-tight clothing, it made me feel exposed in a way. I was so used to wearing the usual baggy clothes, street and tomboy wear and keeping myself modest at times. This dress in particular failed to hide the crevices and shape of my anatomy from the naked eye.

The moment I stepped out of the dressing room that day, I could see it all over his face. He was persistent as hell in buying it, wasn't taking no ifs, ands, or buts as a response or to derail his decision. Passionately in love with how it emphasized me to a T, especially making my pudgy stomach visible, he gave me his card and told me to go purchase it. And after battling with myself internally, I obliged to it...only for his own pleasure.

He hummed pleasingly when he reached for me to sit comfortably on his lap with his hands placed at my hips he stations me and gives me a kiss on my cheek sweetly.

"I was wondering where you were. Should've known you were back here." I took my place on my heavenly throne (his lap) and draped my legs over his with one ankle over the other. Arm rested around his shoulder and my hand placed at his chest. While his large calloused hands occupied themselves along the planes of my body, his soft lips still left loving kisses to my cheek.

"I hope mother dearest looooves this dress." I snickered with sarcasm laced in my voice. I draw out the word "love" while I gaze down at myself. His attention drawn to my hands, adjusting the spillage of my cleavage. I try my best to make it less revealing, not wanting to hear her mouth about the importance of why women shouldn't dress the way I am. "Lord knows she'll have a hissy fit if I'm not looking my best." I murmured, mostly (out loud) to myself, "Dad? I'm not so worried about. He usually likes me in anything."

I was in my own little world for awhile till I looked over and realized his expressionless gaze had fallen on me.

I lock eyes with him moving my hair out of my face in the process to then stare in silence. Feeling awkward and off guard by the studied glare he gives me, I break the silence.

"What?"

He hums, "hm," eyes wandering over me shamelessly. He decides it's "nothing," but still, I could see the wheels turning.

And though I know, and it irks my nerves when he says it's ''nothing'' when really it's ''something''. My eyes squint at him not fully convinced.

Still unable to shake off the weird look on his face he then gives me a faint smirk. Elbow propped on the armrest, his fingers ghost over his chin, pointer finger grazing across his bottom lip to then pinches it in thought.

He chuckles.

"Whaaaat?" I draw out in laughter. "Why are you looking at me like that?!" I start to fidget with the ruffling of my dress, chuckling nervously.

"It's just..." he scoffs with a shake of his head and then sighs, ".. You look beautiful, baby. What you're wearing is perfectly fine. There's no reason for her to act out of character over it." He says gracefully, drawing attention to my obsessive fiaxtion on looking "perfect" for my mother. Knowing how my mother is, she always had an opinion on my appearance. It never fails.

My words may not say it, but my face surely will. As much as I say it doesn't bother me when she says something offhand about my curvy physique, it usually stings my feelings just as badly as an earlobe getting burned by a curling iron.

Gently, he goes to move a curl behind my ear to then stroke the side of my face in return.

"I'm trying, but you know how she is." I murmured, "One minute, she says she loves it, then the next she finds something to knit-pick at, it's not easy to satisfy her." I explain briefly, messing with the gold wedding band on his finger.

"I know," a sudden flash of sadness and yet annoyance blinds me and I sigh. Part of him loathed that I was deeply conditioned to feel ashamed by how curvy I am, that I needed to act or be a certain way in order to do xyz all because of my mothers antics. "But don't let it get to you. You always look good in everything." He confirms while his eyes drift over me, "I mean, you wore this dress for me, didn't you?" He asked in a way to disregard what my mother may think of me.

"Tch, yeah, and only for you." I snicker, glancing at him amusingly, "I wouldn't wear this for anybody else, not even myself." I mumbled the last part but he heard. Humming in response.

"Hm," he shifts himself comfortably beneath me and shrugs, stating, "it's still a working progress, though." Before giving me a small smile and places another kiss to my cheek. His words were true, little by little I was becoming more open to certain things and slowly crawling out of my reserved shell but it was still difficult.

"You should wear dresses like this more often, you look like a goddess." i could feel underneath the palm of my hand his chest rise and fall. Feeling his breath hit the side of my neck with kisses planted to my flesh, he nearly moans to my sweet aroma, "Mm, you smell so good," vanilla and honey, his favorite scent, I was pratcially flushed against him now.

My eyes fluttering close in awe, I bask in his affection. Cupping at his face, encouragingly my thumbs begin to rub along his sharp jawline. It slacks as he gives me open mouth kisses to the space below my jaw. I moan softly in response to the hard tent against my ass when I moved. A low groan rumbling in the depths of his chest, his hips shift a little in discomfort.

On high alert, I internally panic. Eyes wide, my attention grasp to his teeth suddenly beginning to nibble and suck at my flesh like a fucking leech.

"No─ No hickies, baby," I whined in reluctant disdain. "I don't want to be scolded by my mother─ Ah, shit, Nanami! ...Nanami, are you... listening to me?" I nudge his shoulder. His strong hand getting a good grip on my hip and the other on my thigh, his fingers dug into my fleshy barrier, thumb caressing left and right soothingly against my smooth skin he continues to keep going despite me scolding him.

Aside from my moans giving him a clear understanding that i was enjoying every bit of this, i still had a warning tone underneath it all.

I pull back to glare at him in bewilderment.

He deadpans.

"You're my wife, baby." He emphasizes, chuckling darkly.

He expresses, "If I wanna put a hickey on your neck. I'll gladly put a damn hickey on your neck. At least then it'll let everybody know you've been spoken for. She has no reason to meddle in our business."

He spoke with such deep annoyance. His focus still on me, unwavering, his lips skim over the place where he wanted them the most. Teeth nibbling again, he forms his territorial marking along my skin.

Purposefully making it visible for the next person to see, including my mother.

"You're a grown woman living a happily married life now. She doesn't need to be hovering over you anymore, questioning and controlling every aspect of your life like your some little kid." He claims bluntly, "you're grown enough to wear what you want, say what you want, do what you want without feeling judged or insecure. If she has a problem with that, then she can take it and shove it up her ass─ respectfully, of course." He says searching my eyes for some kind of understanding.

And when I didn't answer right away, my attention was drawn back to him with his hand cupping my jaw. "You understand me, sweetheart?"

I nod in response, "yes I understand, I'm sorry." I apologize, feeling bad for allowing that habit to get the best of me.

It was safe to say from the beginning that Nanami has always had a love-hate relationship with my mother.. mostly hate. It was hard accepting my mother for who she was. Harder enough to build a relationship with someone who always judged any and everything. Who loved to be in control and stuck in their own ways. Sometimes... he even wonders how my dad got into the mix of all this. He even asked if my dad got hoodwinked into marying her. Even though I found it hilarious at the time, I knew deep down he was deadass, deeply concerned. At some point, he just assumed my dad might need some savings down the road, saying he'll do just about anything to get him away from that woman. Because that's just how intense she was. My dad was the exact opposite of everything she was: forgiving, accepting, loving, considerate, sensitive, strong, selfless, he was everything l came to be and secretly mom despised that.

"Just..be yourself, love. Do what makes you feel comfortable, yeah?" He sighs, knuckles reaching up to brush over and against my cheek.

I could only nod, feeling a city of butterflies swarm inside my stomach. I instantly melt like a puddle when his orbs grew loving. When the gentle, patient yet understanding part of him I love so much has me wrapped his finger.

Long, slender, finger hooked underneath my chin, our faces were only inches away when his gaze pinned my lips. Planting a smooth smooch to my lips, I cuddle myself into him immediately and brush my nose against his. Giving him a few pecks in return turned our kisses to a deep, passionate make out session. Shared salvia, heavy breaths, audible moans and tongues in battle turned our lips swollen and beat red.

Sneaky hand that was once hooked underneath my knee soon slithered up and under my dress. Groping and kneading at my thigh all at the same time his other hand flatten at the small of my back to pressing my tits flushed against his harden chest. I froze when I feel his hand twist and snuggle in between my thighs to rub at my warmth.

Hesitant, my thighs clasps. "Baby, we don't have time... we have...less than... 10 minutes." I mumbled in the kiss. He gives me a wolfish grin when he hears me gasp, recognizing his fingers tenderly rubbing at my clit in circular motion.

"That's just enough time, darling," he says mischievously giving me a lewd glare before demanding that I face forward, back against chest.

Chocolate, golden legs spread apart and dress hiked up around my hips. Immediately, I hear him chuckle darkly. The pretty sight between my legs made him give me a knowing yet sultry look. I gulp, my cheeks hot when a rush of bashfulness hits me.

"Mm, no panties, baby?" I shiver to the wind blowing against my core. "You were just plotting for a good ol' time, huh?" He questions, playfulness and amusement lacing in his voice.

Guilty as charged, although I was plotting a little something something after our 2 o'clock lunch reservation with my parents, I was not expecting to be fingered down so soon.

Clearly, the dress had him in a chokehold if he was so eager to get me all riled up.

So enamored, fixated by the way it hugged every inch of my curvy yet thick physique in this tight material, he could barely keep his eyes on my face.

"Maybe..." I teased, giving him feign innocence.

He stares down at his prize possession clinging around nothingness, lightly ghosting his finger over the outline of my cunt, it sends a nerve irking shiver up my spine.

The tickling sensation makes me flinch out of sensitivity. "Just looking forward to me ruining her, huh baby?" He quips, referring to my pussy.

Puffy and plush, it sobbed for attention. Eager and helpless as well, she had a mind of her own. Around him, she was just like a waterfall. A constant flow of desire and need for this man was unmistakable.

At times, it got annoying, but I accepted it for what it was. "Mm, such a pretty pussy, isn't she, baby?" He gleams, keeping his concentration on his fingers dragging over my center ever so slowly.

"uh h-huh," I stutter.

Dainty hands grasp at the arms of the chair when I feel his fingers slip past my folds and enclosed over my clit to rub it some more. Arousal coating every inch of my center, I feel a digit...or two slip into my hole.

I hum, rolling my lips inward to the deep thrusting of his appendages going in and out of me steadily. Tense to the tightness of my walls, I find it hard to accommodate when I was heavily distracted with his other hand creeping up the right side of my torso.

Hard and perky nipple poking through the thin material, his hand palms at my clothed breast. He hears me make a sibilant noise when his finger grazes over my agonizing nipple in circles

By his own free will he obliges to pulling down my spaghetti strap from my shoulder. His mouth instantly watering once the top of my dress reveals my swollen tits. Inwardly he groans hungrily.

He moves my arm from my side to wrap around his shoulder again. Turning me a little, he cups my tit with such care giving it a firm squeeze before strumming over the sensitive bud with his thumb.

As his hungry kisses trail along the tips of my chest to the valley of my breasts, his mouth then gets closer and closer to my aerola.

"F-fuck, that feels so good," A sigh of relief escapes me as I glance over him making out with my nipple. His mouth worked tirelessly as he continued to suck it gently for good measure before flicking his tongue against it.

As I absentmindedly worked my hips against his fingers that were pumping quickly in rhythmic motion, a series of raunchy, lusty moans fled past my lips. "Y-yes, just like that..." I moaned, noticing my fingers give the ends of his hair a good grip.

"Such a good girl for daddy, aren't you baby? Just taking my fingers so well. I mean, just look at you...so fucking wet for me. You love riding my fingers like this babygirl?"

"Y-yes, I do... I love it..s-so... much." I heavily breathed, gripping at the chair for dear life.

Overwhelmed by the pleasure of it all, I focus on the wet sticky sounds from my cunt. it arousing me further i buck my hips to his touch as i could feel the bulit up pressure from my stomach wanting to bust.

The bottom of my lip caught between my teeth, I felt my feet push on my tippy toes, knees bent and back arched, i feel my head plant back on his shoulder.

"F-fuck, m'gonna cum." I confirmed thinking this would be the end.

But Nanami had other plans.

"Hm, not so fast, baby."

I whine when i feel the disappearance of his warmth. He tells me to stand up for a moment, and I do, this time preoccupying myself with rubbing at my clit slowly.

The sound of a belt buckle, zipper coming undone, and then some shuffling were the actions of a man feening to get his dick cared for.

I could honestly say hearing all of this going on behind me turned my anticipation into curiosity. When I looked back to see his hooded eyes darkly boring at the sight of my leaking pussy, I was quickly distracted by his large calloused hand pumping his heavy cock slowly.

"Oh, baby..." I moaned at the sight. Fingers nearly quickening. I drool hearing him grunt to his cock twitching in agony. Observing the precum leak from past his pink mushroom shape tip to the under side of his length, made me want nothing more than to milk him like as fucking cow.

His tongue darted past his lips to wet them when he leaned forward. His face inches away from my ass he dives in for a taste. The vibrations of his moans once his drooling mouth got in contact with my cunt makes me gasp-moan. My hand flying to his head, my fingers curl around his hair and tug to his tongue maneuvering at my folds. I whimper feeling him reluctantly pull away, his hand playing with himself a little bit more

My train of thought is cut off when I hear his question, "Is she ready for me, baby?" Clocking his eyes to me.

"Mhmm." I nod lowering myself to him.

Before I knew it, his cock was buried in my sloppy wet cunt. Hip slamming against me, balls slapping my cunt, tip kissing my cervix repetitively, equally we were both disheveled with bated breathes, sticky foreheads and aching bodies.

"I'm so happy you're mine, all. fucking. mine. You're so amazing baby, so perfect."

"Oh, daddy...right there.." I whimper-moaned.

While he fucked me carelessly, he whispered sweet nothings to my ear kissing the base of my neck to my shoulder he keeps me steady as focuses on the feeling of my tight warmth, "Shit, doll, this pussy s'gonna be the death of me." He grunts tilting his head back.

My cervix kissed his tip sweetly with each thrust, noticing the enclosed space becoming tighter and tighter, praises and coos and raunchy moans continue to fill our back porch ten times more with little regard.

Nami decides to switch up the pace, breath becoming more hot and heavy against my skin, my own becomes uneven. My face is twisting and turning in deep pleasure to his hips roughly slamming into me.

I plea, "d-don't stop, deeper...baby."

He released a breathless chuckle, smirking. "Oh trust me baby I'm....s-shit...not going to."

With each stroke, a cry of pleasure is uttered. With each cry, come to me essentially, losing all feeling in my limps.

His hands were already hooked under my knees and lifted them. Abusing his elbows against the chair's arms, he uses them as leverage with his feet planted firmly against the ground.

With more flexibility, I could feel him salaciously pounding into my throbbing pussy. My cries turning into wails. I screw my eyes close once I recognize the tight knot at the pit of my stomach.

"If you keep clenching like that m'gonna end up coming inside of you." He warned, but I didn't care.

"Do it," I hurriedly begged, "please, baby, do it. I want it, every ounce of you, I wanna feel you come inside of me, baby, I wanna be filled to the brim."

Hearing my words made his thrusts become more aggressive at the end, losing all sense of control and sanity, the care was long gone, loving how his dick was abusing me made his grip around me tighten to the point nail crescents formed at my skin.

"Your wish is my command, darling."

The pain felt good, though, it was evident in the lewd, crude screams that escaped me, my hands ruthlessly tugging at his hair while his face was buried in the crock of my neck. He gave zero fucks as he screwed me deeper and harder.

"S-shit, daddy...m'cumming, m'cumming..."

"Go on love, cum for me. Come for daddy."

I begin to shake. A rush of creamy liquid running through me effortlessly draws a whimper-moan from out me. His hips rutted when I feel a rippling of his hot cum squirt all over my insides, my hips pressed against him, I grind against him, clenching around his cock to get every ounce of him to fill me before he decides to slip from out of my tight hole.

The porch became quiet. No sudden movement of sorts were heard except for bated breathes. Feeling his chest rise and fall against my back I leaned into him lazily. His head was planted back against the chair, he focuses on getting himself under control.

Once I had calmed down, I grabbed ahold of his wrist to see the time.

My eyes nearly bulged out other sockets when I read we were more than 10 minutes late.

I then feel him trail kisses to my shoulder blade but I pull away. "We're 30 minutes late, Nanami." I huff tiredly, giving him a knowing yet annoyed glare.

I knew deep down inside that shit wasn't gonna be 10 minutes, I just knew it.

But because I let this man swindle me into fucking the shit out of me I gave him the benefit of the doubt.

Now we were both hot fucking mess, clothes and hair disheveled, we smelt like sex, we couldn't possibly go out like this...and yet all this man could do was laugh. He literally found this shit funny. Giving me a bright ass mischievous smirk, I get a quick peck to the lips when he noticed how serious I am, telling me, "They'll be okay." He stated with a one sided shrug checking the time one last time before standing up and carrying me inside the villa bridal style.

"Another hour wouldn't hurt 'em."

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃

343 notes · View notes