#japanese muscle daddy

[specs-tacularmen]

That moment when you reach the inevitable conclusion...

...that you were born to be worshipped

काज़ुमा ओइषी। २३११०७

[frisbys-artwork]

Meet Koobori & Shin

The oldest of five brothers, Koobori was an animal lover from the start, and had his parents take him to zoos almost weekly. Koobori knew he wanted to become a zoologist and conservationist the moment he watched a documentary on an animal network. He also became fascinated by bodybuilding at a young age, and committed to working out to be able to compete in shows, winning 2nd place in a show held in Bushsray at just 17 years old, and became an IFBB Pro by the age of 22, to where he continues to compete to this day when he gets the chance.

Never the type to sit still, if he wasn’t playing sports or actively with his brothers, he was always out traveling the outbacks of Kiwattle, surfing, and diving in reefs; sometimes even volunteering at schools to give wildlife shows to kids.

Shin was born with strong psychic abilities, able to sense the presence of spirits from a young age. For many years he trained as a Kannushi, and was able to banish yurei and yokai from abandoned homes with much ease. At the age of 17 he had decided to join nursing school, since he always enjoyed helping others.

Both met by pure chance. Shin was heading to school when he stopped to check out a large crowd near a convention building, when he spotted Koobori posing for fans and the cameras in all his half naked glory. When he was too shy to get any closer, Koobori practically shoved his way through the crowd to approach Shin and ask him out to the best ramen shop in the city (he described that any trophies and medals he won didn’t matter as much as wanting a date with the Ustonese guy). Shin’s Common was too broken at the time to understand what the Kiwi was saying, but he could tell by the expression alone on the muscular man that he was being asked out. Realizing he was running late, Shin agreed and handed Koobori every form of contact he had, and rushed to school.

Both now have three sons, Giallo (16), Calder (12) and Oshan (9), and expect their triplets (which Kobori promises will be their last kids).

—

Hey guys! Back at it again, and this time with my oldest couple relative to age closeness lol. Yeah, I finally drew an older couple expecting kids, but there’s a reason for that, and that’s because their oldest kid was part of a series of characters I did many, many years ago as the lead of said series. So you can say they aren’t the main characters but that doesn’t matter as I’m not really sure where I’ll head with these two at the moment. I like them a lot, but for further related context Koobori here is actually a modernized drawing of him, now with an improved style and anatomy, design, etc.

Long ago before I came out and before I did much actually characters development, most of my characters were just colorful and there for the sake of being there, so Koobori was married to a woman originally, and so I’ve pretty much decided on redoing the entire characters a new way. Koobori is now married to this guy, who’s an entirely new character, and still has the same amount of kids, only now they’re going to be designed to better suit their designs and origins, etc.

I’ll stop there for now as I want to surprise you guys later on when I get these designs more fleshed out, but I’m happy with this design on Koobori, and I like his hubby. It’s the first time I’ve drawn a fully South Asian characters and damn are they HARD to do.

Here’s the tattoo design on Shin’s shoulder and his badge ID if anyone wanted to get a closer look at them.

Lastly, here’s a comparison of the old and new Koobori. Like wow.

[gentlemen2742]

[germ-t-ripper]

16NOV23 "Bananas! Bananas! Bananas! Bananas! Bananas! Bananas! Bananas! Bananas! Bananas! Bananas!!"

[wreckedandpolemic]

friends - george daniel

(mdni) titled for friends by the japanese house, for reasons that will become apparent. part of the bartender!au and promptober75 2024. 2246 words.

warnings: drunk sex, daddy kink, oral (f receiving), praise, v mild degradation, voyeurism/exhibitionism

George takes a long, slow drink of his beer, and you fight to keep your thoughts under control when he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “That’s good,” he remarks, passing you the cup. “We should start stocking that,” he adds, and you scoff.

“You’re not the bar manager yet,” you tease. “Who put you in charge of what we stock?” But you eat your words seconds later, sipping the beer cautiously. “Oh, fuck. That is good.” You drain the rest of the pint eagerly, tugging George in for a kiss that gets a little indecent.

You spend an hour or two wandering through the park with one of your hands laced through George’s; the other is clutching a pint glass like it could escape your grip. Your shoes are caked in muddy grass, your nose red from an early-October chill you can’t feel through the alcohol coursing through your body. George is remarkably sober by comparison, having, for some reason, only sampled each of the drinks before passing them straight to you. You giggle as George tugs you onto a bench, passing you a box of cheesy chips and shaking his head fondly. “You’re hammered,” he laughs, and you pout.

“Am not,” you scoff, kicking his shin under the table. “Besides, you love getting me drunk. Or d’you not remember shift drinks last week?” you add, smirking as you watch the memory visibly flood back on his face. You’re a horny drunk, and he knows it all too well; he’d been plying you with cocktails all night, teasing you and only bringing you home once you were damn near begging on your knees for it. Thinking back to how he’d thrown you onto the bed and fucked your mouth wildly is making you dizzy and needy, and you turn wide, pleading eyes on George.

He takes a long sip of your beer, the muscles in his neck tensing as he swallows, and you’re suddenly starving for him. “Yeah, sweets, I remember,” he grins, the expression familiar and dangerous. His eyes glint with lust, and he leans forward to speak lowly. “Needy girl. If I take you home right now, are you gonna be good?”

Heart jumping to your throat, you nod. “Mhmm. I’ll be so good for you, Daddy. Do whatever you want,” you murmur, frenzied desire pulsing in your veins. George downs the rest of his drink and gets to his feet, and you follow suit eagerly. You stumble as you scramble after him, and he laughs, catching you and pulling you in for a slow, deep kiss. Body melting against his, you surrender willingly, let George sweep his tongue into your mouth and swallow every drop of the desire pooling there.

The walk back to his flat feels agonisingly long, interspersed with needy, hungry kisses and groping that’s frankly inappropriate for how public you are. The second you’re inside, you kick off your shoes and leave them in a pile with your coat at the front door, clumsy fingers fumbling with the buttons of George’s shirt. He laughs condescendingly. “God, you’re desperate, aren’t you, sweets?”

“Yes,” you moan. “Please, Daddy,” you whine, giving up on his shirt and discarding your own instead, breaking out in goosebumps as cool air brushes your skin. George grabs your hips, slides one hand into your panties, brushes over your clit.

Your entire body jolts, pleasure creeping up your spine as he rubs circles into your sensitive nerves. “You’re fucking soaked,” George remarks, annoyingly casual, and you grind down against his fingers. “Sweet girl needs Daddy to fuck her stupid, huh?”

“Mhm,” you murmur, letting him walk you into the living room and push you gently down onto the couch. When he climbs on top of you, you get a little more purchase on his shirt buttons, finally tugging it free with a happy little sound. Your hands map the expanse of George’s back, locking your legs around his waist as he kisses you hungrily, head spinning with a combination of alcohol and desire and a lack of oxygen.

His fingers find the button of your jeans, slowly pulling them down your legs and leaving you in just your underwear. “How do you want it, sweets?” George asks, sliding a hand behind your back to unhook your bra and grinding his hips down against yours. You can feel his cock straining against you even through his jeans, whining as he leans down to suck on your tits. His tongue is sandpaper-rough over your sensitive nipple, and you forget he’s even asked a question until he nips at you gently and repeats it.

“I wanna— fuck, George— I don’t wanna do any work. Just wanna lay back and feel good. Please?”

George grins down at you, slides your panties down your legs and tugs off his jeans and boxers in one movement. As ever, your mouth starts to water at the sight of his cock, hard and flushed and dripping, and you arch your back needily. He pins your hips back down against the sofa. “Ah-ah-ah,” he chides. “You wanna lay back and get fucked like a little princess, y’gotta let me do all the work, okay? That means staying nice and still for Daddy, yeah?”

“Okay,” you murmur, widening your legs a little so George can fit himself between them, brushing the head of his cock against your clit and covering your mouth with his. “Mmh, please,” you whine, arching your back as he kisses the tip of his cock against your hole teasingly. You’re whining and begging, his instruction already forgotten in a haze of desire and lingering drunkenness. 

George doesn’t seem in the mood to make you wait for it, though, filling you up in one fluid, delicious motion. It always takes you a minute to adjust - he’s so fucking big - but you’re quickly back to begging desperately. “Needy fucking girl,” he says, fingers coming down to rub your clit. “Yeah, I know y’are. S’okay, sweets. Gonna fuck you just how you need, promise,” he murmurs, pulling out of you and slamming back in all at once.

Crying out, you wrap your legs around him and rake your nails down his back, panting hard into his mouth as he fucks into you relentlessly. “C’mon, Daddy, harder. I can take it,” you plead, head thrashing back and forth and hips grinding down against his.

“I know you can, sweets,” George croons, kissing your neck and circling your clit. Pleasure rolls over you as he fucks into you, deeper with every thrust, so deep that you’re almost choking. Wet, obscene noises fill the room, mixed up with sounds of pure pleasure; yours pitchy and drawn-out and his low and staccato. Screwing your eyes shut, you lose yourself in sound and sensation, the weight of George’s body on yours, the sweat sliding between you, the pure ecstasy spilling under your skin.

Heat spreads through your body, your cunt aching gloriously where George slams his hips into yours, groaning into your mouth as you clench around him. “Fuck,” you moan against his lips. “M’close, Daddy,” you whine, driving your hips down with abandon and carelessly chasing your high.

George’s fingers speed at your clit, his callouses rubbing quick, tight circles that bloom into unbridled pleasure racing through your blood. “Fuck, I love this pussy so much, sweets. Gotta make it cum for me before I fill you up, yeah? C’mon, baby, cum all over this dick. S’all yours, you know that, right?” He buries his head in your neck, still fucking you in a wild, unpredictable, perfect rhythm. “You feel so fucking good,” he almost whines, your cunt pulsing at his words.

You’re fucking throbbing, so close you can almost take your climax in your hands, reduced to a babbling, pathetic mess under George. He’s kissing and licking and biting your neck, your eyes rolling back in your head, and all at once it’s just too much. You break apart, your entire body disintegrating at the seams, melting into a puddle of pure euphoria in George’s palms. A scream of his name echoes off the walls, and you dimly feel his cock pulsing inside you, painting your insides white as he gasps against your lips.

“Shit,” you breathe, gazing into George’s eyes as you come down from your high. “Fuck, I think that’s some of the best sex we’ve ever had,” you laugh, sighing happily as he bends his head to kiss you, sweet and sloppy and lazy.

George works his way down your neck, lips roving over your chest. He takes your nipple into his mouth and sucks gently, and you arch your back and squirm at the sensation. “Fuck, I wanna eat you, sweets, please,” he murmurs, his eyes wide and beseeching. “I need it,” he adds, sucking a bruise into the inside of your boob.

You giggle. “Mmm, okay. Can I sit on your face?” A month ago, you wouldn’t have dreamed of asking that question, but George has made it very fucking clear how much he loves it, how much he’d welcome suffocating in your cunt, and it’s quickly become your favourite way of getting oral. George grins, tugging and flipping you so you’re straddling him, your stomach lurching at the movement. You grind your hips down against George’s abs, moaning at the messy slide of slick and cum smearing between your bodies.

George grasps needily at your hips, pulling you towards his mouth. You shuffle awkwardly up the length of his body, giggling when you almost slip. There’s really not enough room on this sofa for the two of you, but as you lower yourself onto his face, you can’t begin to care. His tongue swipes through your folds, lapping up every drop of his cum as it drips out of you.

“Fuck,” he moans into your cunt, tongue flicking insistently over your clit. You’re still sensitive, already close, and you moan his name helplessly as you grind down against his tongue. The air is thick with sweat and sex, a struggle to pull into your lungs. You grip the arm of the sofa for dear life, George’s tongue fucking in and out of you gorgeously. Head spinning, you arch your back, the blunt pain of George’s nails digging into the fat of your hips delicious. “Fucking love this cunt,” George groans, the vibrations of his words rippling through your entire body, your muscles tensing and toes curling. “Taste so fucking good. Think y’taste even better from this angle, sweets.”

You don’t even have it in you to blush, just tipping your head back and whining needily. “I wanna cum,” you whimper. “Please, Daddy, I need you to make me cum.” George sucks and licks at you with furious hunger, devouring you like you’re his last goddamn meal, moaning like your taste is a fucking delicacy. You’re teetering on the edge, sweet, blissful oblivion reaching out to you, and you’re so, so ready to give in to it.

Then, a key turns in the lock, and you freeze. George either doesn’t hear or doesn’t care - it’s likely some combination of both, and mostly the former - grabbing at your thick hips to try and urge you to keep moving. You’re stock-still, eyes locked on the door as it swings open, Matty’s face contorting into a near-comical mix of lust and horror when he spots you. A silent flash of something passes between you, and he smirks as George drives his tongue deep into you and pulls a gasp from your lips. 

A sweaty, grease-stained tank top clings to Matty’s chest, a hint of his tattoo just about visible. Unmistakeable, too, is the line of his cock just starting to fill out his jeans. “Shit, don’t stop on my account,” Matty laughs, making no move to leave the room. George, ever the exhibitionist, takes that as a fucking challenge. And you’re so fucking close that you can’t hold it back, can’t do anything but close your eyes and let your orgasm overtake you. Knowing Matty’s watching sends a dirty thrill up your spine, this orgasm somehow more intense than your last. Whimpering and gasping, you can’t even find it in yourself to feel self-conscious; it just feels too fucking good. Your eyes crack open to see Matty palming himself through his jeans, subtly grinding against his hand as you cum against George’s mouth.

He’s gone when you’re back to Earth, climbing off George with a shocked sort-of laugh. “I can’t fucking believe him,” you giggle.

“He’s just come off four clopens in a row, he probably thinks he’s hallucinating,” George snorts, pulling you on top of him and kissing the taste of you into his mouth. You swallow greedily, moaning a little as he swipes your sweat-soaked hair away from your face. Then, he seems to sober slightly. “Does it bother you? That he’s, y’know, the way he is? ‘Cause I can talk to him about it, if you want,” he offers.

You smirk wickedly against his mouth. “You’re sweet. No, it doesn’t bother me. Actually, I think it’s hot as fuck that he’s in there, getting himself off, thinking about us. Don’t you think that’s hot?”

George grins. “You’re so filthy,” he says admiringly, pulling you to your feet and steadying you when your knees buckle. “C’mon, sweets, we need a shower.”

You relax into him, stretching up to kiss along his jaw. “Only if you let me suck your dick in there.”

[takiberry]

OT8 &TEAM KINKS ^__^

🐙: this post contains smut thoughts of: Yuma, Jo, Harua, & Taki! please refrain from reading theirs if you feel uncomfortable abt it!

warnings: it says in the title what it is. 😊

KOGA YUDAI ( K ):

- Daddy Kink: do i even need to explain this..

- Manhandling: He’s a strong buff man 1/2 , i bet he would love being able to throw you around and have his way with you.

- Size Kink: This is pretty self explanatory, he’s huge.

MURATA FUMA:

- Manhandling pt2: What can I say other than how much he loves showing off how strong he is and his muscles, he loves how you grip his biceps while he rams his cock into you

- Bulge Kink: He has a FAAAAAT cock and you can’t tell me otherwise, he would love the sight of the outline of his cock in your tummy :(

- Daddy Kink pt2: again self explanatory…

WANG YIXIANG ( NICHOLAS ):

- Daddy Kink pt3: He just loves being called Daddy what can i say 🤷‍♀️

- Size Kink: He’s a giant too, no doubt he would love how small you’d look being fucked under him <33

- Choking: He has NICEE hands, they’re so pretty, he would love choking you tbh

BYUN EUIJOO ( EJ ):

- Oppa Kink: This isnt ‘cs he’s korean, i swear, i genuinely think he would LOVE being called oppa, no matter if you’re younger or older

- Hair Pulling: He doesn’t care if you have long hair or short hair, he WILL pull.

- Degrading & Praising: His voice is literally sweet like honey, do you realize how much hotter it would be if he starts degrading you but yet praising you at the same time??/?/?/

NAKAKITA YUMA:

- Public Sex: He has a high sex drive and you can’t tell me otherwise 😊

- Restraints ( Giving ): He loves having his way with you, he will use anything to tie you up with like shirts, ties, belts, etc.

- Manhandle: He is one rough man, do you see how quickly he starts gettin all fuckin naggy?

ASAKURA JO:

- Size Kink: I just know he has one, he’s a literal giant if not a fucking titan, he loves being in control and the size kink sets it off for him

- Bulge Kink: He has a big cock, thats it.

- Senpai Kink: Not because he’s japanese, he would love hearing your voice calling him senpai.

SHIGETA HARUA:

- Senpai Kink: He feels a sense of power and dominance when you call him senpai.

- Oral Fixation ( Giving ): He LOVES eating you out, absolutely, 100%. He will overstimulate you.

- Restraints ( Giving ): He wants to have his way with you too, so he will be just like Yuma and use anything to tie you up

TAKAYMA RIKI ( TAKI ):

- Oppa Kink: Something about it to him, he loves how it sounds when it slips your lips.

- Rough Sex: He’s mean as fuck, idc what you say, he will fuck you until you’re SOBBINGGG

- Degrading: Again, he’s def a meanie in bed, like he’s a menace. His degrading is CRAZY.

[iloveaustinelvisandmannymore]

Pretty admirer.

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x chubby reader

Warning: Augst, Fluff, Stalking, Death Threats, Kidnapping, Bondage, Housewife kink, Breeding kink, Daddy kink, Toji's kinda sadistic, Unconsent-photo taking, Masturbation, Yandere!reader, reader's a little creep, stalkerish gifts, Creampie, Slapping, Oral(Male), Degrading kink, Mean Toji, Baby-trapping, Fingering, Multiple orgasms, Face-fucking, Choking, Dirty talk, Overstimulation, Rough sex. Part 2.

Summary: Your love story with Toji Fushiguro was far from normal but you come to love it. By god, do you love it.

Dark, gloomy clouds blocked the Illuminating sun, It was like the weather felt what you were brewing inside. 'It's perfect' you glowered in your mind while you took a sip of the bitter coffee, watching as the sky reflected your mood. Your beloved ex and you were crazy for each other until he met his true love, You wanted to do something to her and you would have done so if he hadn't warned you of what would happen, and you knew better than to test him.

You rolled your eyes at the memory, Now you boredly watched people walk by the cafe window you sat in, the people looked just as boring as you felt. Until he strolled by, you would've missed him at first glance, simply because he was wearing such casual clothes if it wasn't for the flashy woman under his arm you'd completely miss him, through my. He was gorgeous, unbearable mesmerizing the clouds moved for the heavens to shine on him.

Ebony hair reached his ears and nearly covered his irises, they were green like the rainforest, and a scar on his right lip. it made him look ragged yet handsome, and certainly, his masculine body didn't help. His white shirt was two sizes down, every muscle of his was outlined and he wore simple blue jeans.

Your heartbeat quickened, and your breath shorted, it felt like you couldn't breathe, you needed him to live, he was your lifeline. he. was. yours.

You fumbled to get your stuff and rushed out of the cafe, Staying only a few feet behind you followed the couple to a modern, traditional Japanese-style house. The two entered the house, while you stayed back and wrote down the mysterious man's address in the notepad you carried around 'Fushiguro? So that's his last name.' you hummed, checking once again that nobody was watching you and no one was. Everything in you screamed to stay and learn more, watch him but it was daytime people would notice you snooping and you couldn't risk being caught. You left with one last glance at the Fushiguro household.

Day by day, you learned about your love, His full name is Toji Fushiguro, and he's in his early 30s, he has a son named Megumi, who's in college, his number and his hobbies consist of going to the gym your favorite, gambling, and your least favorite, fucking that homewrecker. There was still much more to learn, like his favorite things and what was his job, his work demanded most of his time. You overheard that Toji would be gone for a week on a business trip as he spoke to his employer in his favorite gambling place and you could finally put your plan in action.

You waited for him to leave, wishing him silently to be safe, and hurried to his door after the taxi he left in was out of sight, you took the copy key that you had printed out of the spare key he left under a rock, out of your bag and unlocked the door. You walked in and shut the door unworried that anyone would see you, it was six in the morning and still dark. You leaned on the closed door, a grin on your face, a warmth in your chest, and butterflies in your stomach, you felt like a kid in a candy store. You pushed off the door and walked around his home, clicking your tongue and shaking your head at the small messes around the house .'This can't do. When I'm his wife, I will make sure it is clean around here-' your cheeks heated up, you needed to focus! inhaling you continued. You passed the rooms you were least interested in, and stopped once you stumbled upon the laundry room, it was surprisingly clean, some clothes were on the dryer, towels were on the washer door, and a bin of dirty clothes. You gripped the sliding door and bit your lip, should you? It's not like he'd notice, it was wrong to steal but- without giving any more debate you grabbed a tank top, its dark green with a strong scent of musk, a smell of comfort.

You put it in your bag and moved on. The upstairs, had a second bathroom, a bedroom that looked like would be his son's room, your heart beating fast as you walked down the mini hall, into a master room, his room greeted you. the bed inside was at least a queen, he had a flat-screen TV opposite from his bed. A dark oak dresser and strangely a few weapons lying against or on the dresser, a closet, and a bedside table that had a basic lamb. Overall it was basic and little of characteristics. You sat down your bag and lay on the bed, your eyes slowly closed, you could nearly imagine him beside you, his arm around your naked body after passionate lovemaking, imagine him pushing your rotund thighs to your chest as he humped your pussy, and his balls covered in your slick, smacking against your ass, you imagine-a ring- wait, a ring? Your eyes shoot up as the doorbell rings. You rushed downstairs with your bag "Toji!" a high-pitched voice shrieked, the homewrecker you scowled "TOJI?!" she banged on the door, what the hell is she doing? She is trying to make him look bad? Your eyes widened as you hid as she used the spare key "God he's a fucking jerk, he didn't even tell me he was gone." She huffed walking to the laundry room, unaware of you following her.

You glared at her backside as she bent down in his dirty clothes picking out some of her panties, each more scandalous than the last, she was so..so pretty, seemed just like his type, you wanted to hurt her, you placed a foot in the door, No! no..not here, soon. you reassured yourself, slipping into the other room as she moved to turn to leave the room and the house altogether. You left a minute later, you had some planning to do. Instead of basking in Toji's home, you had to stalk your love's little fuck buddy Mayu, she seemed to like partying, getting shit-faced drunk, and sleeping around, you couldn't believe it. Did Toji have feelings for her? She isn't remotely marriage material. Scoffing you watched her stumbled and trip into her apartment, 'pathetic' You rolled your eyes and put the black hoodie over your head and walked across the street, the door was left unlocked. you quietly walked to the kitchen you had mapped in your head the first time you broke in, the knife block was like a twinkle that shone on a gold bar in your eyes, but what to choose? A thud came from her bedroom, you grabbed a long, sharp jagged knife and sauntered to her room with purpose.

The door of her bedroom was opened a jar and she laid on the bed in a star pose, unaware of the danger she was in. You sneaked in, your stare trained on her akin to a predator, waiting for the right time to pounce on unfortunate prey, Her eyes closed and her breathing evened out. You straddled her waist, pointed the blade to her throat, and slapped your hand over her mouth, her eyes filled with terror shot open "Don't even try." you hissed as she struggled under you, pressing the knife to her neck, enough to scare her to stop. "Now listen. You're gonna stop seeing Toji, and I wouldn't tell him about me, or of course, you want that neck of yours slit." you smiled as she began to cry and frantically nodded. "And just to make sure that you listen." you cut her chest before she could react, ultimately making her cry more. You left her there sobbing, with a wicked grin on your face, and sick joy pumping in your veins. Despite her wild side, she was smart, and knew enough to know you'd do more than simply scare her if you visited her again.

The rest of the week flew by, he came home unexpectedly barely giving you time to hide in his double-door closet. Toji mumbled something you couldn't make out though you wouldn't find yourself caring as you watched with wide eyes, Toji threw off his black shirt on the floor then plopped down on the bed, and his fingers ran through his raven hair. Scars littered his build, big and small, it didn't if not only add to his beauty, but the simple action of moving his bangs heated your core, you wanted to pull on those locks as he took his pleasure from your body. you take your phone from your back pocket, turn off the volume, and flash, you begin taking photos, two, three, or four times. You almost whimpered as he took off his pants and left the room to what you think bathroom, you had to go before you outed yourself.

Even at night, his very being was stuck with you, turning and twisting to get comfortable was futile, sighing you stared at the wall, you itched to do something, show him he was loved, how? You shot up with a smile, love letters! Of course! You tear the blanket away and get out of your bed, you grab some paper and a pencil, turn on the lamp on your desk.

My beloved Toji.

You don't know me, but I know you, and I have come to love you. I fell for your snarky and coarse personality, you can't estimate the length that my love stretches. Nobody would love you like me. I'll show you exactly that.

I'll take care of those who fail to be everything you could want, you deserve the best, and I can be the best for you, only you. I'll spend every waking instant to prove that.

Yours Truly, your devoted admirer.

You hummed this would do for now. You kiss the paper, hoping the love you feel transfers. You folded it and began another. You sent these letters with a flower of different meanings, one with roses, another orchid, and another with Tuberose. Some letters with pictures taken of his beauty. The days you're able to break into his house, the flowers you send are in vases, and your letters are in the bedside drawer, videos of you using his pillow to rub your throbbing clit, yet..yet he continued to find quick fucks, the bitter, burning rage you felt was worse than you found out your ex cheated, the women were met with threats, some times more. He was yours and they won't forget that.

My dear Toji.

Why do you like hurting me so? You know of my feelings yet you keep fucking those unworthy women, you are mine. I should be the only thing you think about when you pleasure yourself. Think about how tight I would be, how the thickness of my body would feel against you.

I will rid those girls of you. You. Are. Mine.

Your devoted admirer.

You sent this with a dead flower, if you had to kill them, you would. You won't live in a world where he wasn't in your life, sure you didn't introduce yourself but you will, it will be so cute, that what you thought.

Toji was gone for another business trip, and you took it upon yourself to watch over his house, it seemed to be in a bigger dilemma than the last time you visited, but you didn't put too much thought into it. You beelined it to Toji's room, tiredness of the hardships of love, became unbaring. You wanted to smell him all around you, once your sight landed on his bed, you flopped on it and giggled as the bed bounced your soft, pudgy body. The comfortable scent of your beloved carried you to sleep, and dreams of him danced in your unconscious mind. When you came to, a few things made themselves known, the bed you laid on was now a swing of some kind, the ground was black marble, and a couple inches away, your ankles and arms were tied together in a thick rope. Looking up from the floor view, you realized that you were in a basement, not a normal one but a sex dungeon, and as naked as the day you were born. a bed with a pillory between the pillars of the bed frames, set a few feet ahead of you, and on the walls were paddles of different sizes, leather whips, and horse whips "Sleepin' beauty finally awoke?" a deep baritone voice mocked, pushing the swing just a tad to have you in motion. Your heart flattered and jumped up your throat, carnivorous butterflies ate at your stomach "Oh the possessive whore can't speak now? Y're fine telling me what I can and can't do in that little letter." it was him, this wasn't how you were supposed to meet! You had it all planned- you yelped, a sudden sharp sting was left on your ass cheek from Toji's hand "Speak." that one word spoke pure, unmoving authority "I-I'm sorry! I-" A smack cut you off "You're sorry? You're sorry? Nah but I'll make you sorry." he gave your ass one last hit before he walked in front of you. You only saw him from afar, never this close or bare..no pants, no underwear nor shirt blocked his sculptured body, his length stood proud, twitching to be touched and licked, and a small bead of pre-cum poured from the pinkish slit, his balls hang shapely, and heavily, a mass of dark hair surrounded the base. Your mouth watered "Like what you see?" Toji chuckled cruelly taking his shaft and giving a jerk "Y-yes. It's so beautiful." you admitted in a trance-like state "Then be a good girl and open wide." he grinned lazily poking your bottom lip with his tip. Your mouth dropped and he didn't waste any time to shove it in, your eyes rolled back and you gagged, it so hard, hot, and heavy, his hands held onto your hand as he humped his cock down your throat, the saltness of his pre-come dragging against your taste buds. Deep grunts and groans heaved out of his chest, his head thrown back and his cum-filed balls smacked your drool-covered chin while he used your mouth as a fleshlight. Drool escaped the sides of your lips and pornographic gagging sounds intertwined with his pleased noises.

He was close, his groans raised in volume and his fingers tightened a bit around your head "Fuck!fuck!fucccck!!" he growled as a thick load shot down your throat, almost causing you to choke. Once he pulled out a string of saliva and cum followed before snapping, landing on the floor. "Ya like that huh?" Toji chuckled looking into your lust-glazed eyes "Answer" "Loved it s'happy..Daddy" you muttered the last part, tasting out what the girls he fucked called him, this wasn't lost on him "Fuckin' whore." he hissed, his dick twitched, he's been called that for so long but the way rolled off your tongue made him want to ruin you, not just ruin you but destroy you for any man. He pulled your hair back and forced you to look him in the eyes "'m finna ruin you." his voice dropped a little lower, he let go of your hair and walked behind you. For a second nothing happened until a big finger forced itself way into your drenched core "So fuckin' wet, might just make ya my personal slut." toji groaned, his finger thrusted into your fat cunt, his other hand kneading the flesh of your ass. You whined and clenched at his words, "More..please Daddy!" you begged tearfully which rewarded you with a harsh smack and a second finger "Since ya asked so nicely." he said, tone akin to conceding, his fingers sped up and a curled right on that spot "yes" you cried, the sound of your squelching pussy brought heat to your cheeks at the filthy noise, a third finger joined the two and it seemed like Toji was holding up against you before because his fingers pounded your vagina. The knot inside became so tight that it snapped, and your juices gushed out, spilling all over Toji's digits and the smooth floor "So messy." Toji tsked, you looked over your shoulder and moaned as he slowly licked his hand clean of your slick, his big hand took hold of your hip while he guided his tip to breach your hot sex once the head entered you, his other hand took its place on your hip and he snapped his hips, forcing himself entirely inside you. "Ya want to be mine?" he groaned, slowly pulled out then slammed back, and set a ruthless pace "Yes, please I'll be a good girl f'you Daddy." you cried as Toji growled and pounded into your cunt, your breast bounced out the slit in the swing "I'll make yar dreams come true, make you my baby mama" he grunted, using the sex swing to reach deeper, his cock head bullying your cervix harder "'m gonna make ya my fuckin' slutty housewife, waitn' for me and clean after me." he hissed, your tight sex clenching at his words, "Please..please! I'll be the perfect wife and m-mama" you babbled, tears falling down your puffy cheeks, Toji's hips quickened, driving his cock into your sweet spot and cervix, his fingers came to rubbed at your clitoris. The overestimation was becoming too much and the knot was about to snap "I'm gonna cum Daddy!" you moaned "Cum." Toji ordered, feeling his own inching closer. Just as the words left Toji's lips, your juices coated his cock, and your walls pulsed uncontrollably, milking Toji's cum as he spilled into you.

You were in a state between unconscious and consciousness, you felt the ropes that tied your arms and ankles together cut free. You felt yourself being picked up and carried to a bed, "Toji?" you muttered as you felt a wet cloth clean your puffy pussy and a stern "Sleep." Was all you got in return. The offer was too tempting to pass up.

You fall asleep in the comfort of Toji's bed.

Toji groaned as he stretched his muscles in the door of his house, his stomach growled and the thought of food was appetizing, Toji set his weapon by the door, took off his shoes, and made his way to the kitchen. Toji felt a small smile come onto his face as soon as he saw your portly body cooking dinner with a baby sitting on your hip, a baby girl that had your skin tone with your eye color, his hair, and eye shape. "I'm home," Toji called out, smile growing more as you made a happy noise and rushed to hug him "Welcome home my love!" you greeted with a smile "We missed you," you said as you handed over his daughter who immediately started to play with his bangs "Dinner will be ready in a minute. Sit." you smiles and kissed his cheek before going back to cooking. Toji sighed contently and sat down in the dining with his daughter, since he had let you live with him and eventually made you his wife, the cold and lonely house was now lively with love, laughter, and pitter-patter of feet.

Toji groaned as he rolled off you after showing how much he missed you and pulled you into him, your head on his pectoral "My love." you spoke up a few seconds of silence, drawing shapes on his other spec "Hmm?" Toji simply hummed as he rubbed his thumb on your love handle "How long did you know I was following you?" you asked, Toji had long ago told you off his occupation, being a hitman. It was a part of his job to beware of his surroundings "Since the beginn'." he answered honestly, you looked up in shock "Why didn't you do something sooner?" And why didn't you kill me? You wondered, "You were intriguing," He smirked "Nobody, no woman had tried that before besides..with a body like that how could not let you have your fun?" he chuckled. You rolled your eyes and kissed his scar "It's time for bed, we have so much to do tomorrow..." you laid your head back on his chest before mumbling "I love you." and like that sleep had taken hold of you. Toji kissed your head and whispered "I love ya too." he fell asleep soon after with you in his embrace.

Taglist: @18lkpeters , @ablondehoe.

A/n: Hey guys, sorry it took so long to upload. I hope you guys liked this like I did writing it. The reason I posted this instead of Guilty Love Three is because the poll I posted ended in a tie so I picked this story. I am still working on Guilty Love it will be out soon. If you'd like to be tagged for more of my toji fanfics you can ask here or in my ask and I will immediately add you to the list.

[gentlemen2742]

[fredwkong]

What would have happend to Eric if he choose the clock card and then took the Japanese card after?

(This ask was in response to 1000)

You must have known what would happen when you sent this ask, right? Then again, you didn't spot the cards that appeared in your laundry basket, did you? They dissolved at the first touch of sudsy water, impregnating all your clothes with their magical potential.

As you take your laundry out of the dryer, a cloud of magic dust poofs up into your face, making you cough. Immediately, you begin to age, fine lines settling at the corner of narrowing, dark eyes as a dusting of facial hair spreads along the edge of your square jaw. With each piece of clothing you fold, your body bulks up a little, becoming thick, sturdy, and thoroughly Japanese.

You pull on what used to be your favourite cargo shorts, now a stretchy pair of gym shorts. You grab what you think is a tea towel, but find yourself holding a microfibre cleaning cloth. You look around your apartment, seeing the home gym, camera equipment, and sex swing as if for the first time.

There's a notification on your phone, and you use your thick, callused fingers to navigate the Japanese interface like you've used it for years. One of your boys, confirming he wants to come over and play tonight. You grin. Time to get a pump on so your Japanese daddy muscles look good on camera!

If this got you horny, consider putting some spare change in my Ko-fi cup so I can write even more hot stories.

[mambalae-s]

wc: 7.8k words

cw: milf! reader; reader is described as a plus sized black woman; masturbation (m); public masturbation (m); no penetrative sex; fantasizing — throat fucking; one (1) mention of a daddy kink; one sided sexual tension; wakatoshi is a simp; he’s down bad; let me know if i’m forgetting anything!

notes from author: so, i’d wound myself up for an entire month working on this and i still had so much i wanted to write for it despite it already being nearly 8,000 words long…! i’ll certainly try my best to make a second part for this, one i’ll want to write from our reader’s experience too! this, truthfully, wasn’t the first idea for my milf reader idea, but i think it’s so much better, and i’m happy with the plot i settled with! i hope that, at least even a little bit, it’ll be satisfying for you to read, too!

it’s amidst a blistering summer’s day when you move into the house next to his.

there’s blood pumping beneath ushijima wakatoshi’s skin and boiling beneath each heavy breath that wafts from his swollen lips. his feet pound against the paved roads as he jogs at a steady pace, and he feels his fibers tinge with a static as they blaze beneath the sweltering noon’s heat, a familiar ache ebbing deep within his muscles and crawling through his veins. the sweat clinging to his brow burns like a toxin that pours out through every cell, his heart beating with the drums that pound through his airpods and teach him a dance he’d learned many times before. iwaizumi had told him once that running could be as addictive as any drug, and here, beneath clear blue skies and through heavy draws of air, wakatoshi considers that maybe he was right.

he takes a deep breath as he mounds the slight hill that leads to his house, and abruptly, his pace halts, chest heaving still as his eyes take to the moving truck parked out in front of the house next to his; a house that had, for a while, remained empty, certainly gathering dust and stale air after the elderly couple had moved away nearly a month long past. it had been easy for him to forget all about the vacant space, what with him dedicating his days to training and months of traveling for practice and tournaments, and it seems that, within that time, someone’s finally purchased it and were moving in today.

he’d been gone long enough for the hard working men to have finished their work, wakatoshi muses, as he watches them pack away their trollies and begin making to either door of their truck. though, as he stands there, he feels puzzled, confused and seeking reason to something he can’t find. there’s nothing spectacular about seeing these two men readying to go about their day, nothing that should keep wakatoshi’s feet planted and his laboured breaths stilling beneath the wind, yet he finds himself waiting, lulled into a curiosity that he can’t explain as he watches the break lights glow red and listens to the engine roaring to life.

and then, he sees you.

you, who wears a gorgeous sundress, deep purple fabric woven like a tapestry of flowers that blossom over a body of voluptuous curves. he finds himself enraptured by your brown skin that shines beneath the scorching sun like smoky quartz, by the sweat that lines your brow as he likens the glistening sight of it to beautiful jewels that shine around your smile and set you alight with the luster of ten thousand diamonds. the strands of your black hair, they sheen on the painting of the midnight sky; dark and elegantly falling around your round face and pouring like a river of obsidian and black tourmaline across your busty chest.

“thank you so much once again,” your voice comes through with fluency in his mother tongue, the japanese you speak perhaps a little regional… osaka, he considers, or kyoto? your voice sings on the breathlessness of intense labour, and wakatoshi deludes himself into thinking that the exhaustion on your sultry voice mirrors the intensely beating heart that stirs in his chest with a restlessness that he doesn’t attribute to his run. “seriously, you two… i can’t tell you how much i appreciate coming all this way!”

the older men you speak to are friendly in their departure, cheering with bright smiles that resemble yours in their warmth and openness as they drive down the deep slope, passing him by the side and far from his mind as he loses his focus on you. suddenly, the fog that clouds his mind doesn’t come from a sweltering summer’s day, but instead from the picture of you, hot and bothered and eyes squeezed shut as you try to wave cool air over your wet skin. the daze that locks around his tongue is the one of your sheen-covered lips as they part and let pass the heavy breaths that sit on your chest, of the rise and fall of your large breasts and the bit of tummy that he can see atop your curves. that daze that consumes wakatoshi, he tells it to lust — a venom that crawls through his bloodstream and tinges his tongue with desire unchecked, so that he becomes consumed by you and the deceptively innocent visage that burns itself into his skin. and suddenly, wakatoshi feels too damn hot, his heart beats so hard he fears it’ll leap right from his throat, and his pants are too damn tight.

oh. fuck… how embarrassing could it be to get a hard on in front of your new neighbour? he didn’t think he’d ever have to ponder such a specific scenario, and he certainly isn’t happy to have a taste of it first hand. even worse, what is he supposed to do when the very same neighbour turns her eyes to him and catches him staring like some demented creep? wakatoshi’s face burns with a heat that far precedes the blazing sun and he wishes the earth would open up and swallow him whole as his mouth starts to taste of sand and parchment paper. really, he shames himself, how appallingly embarrassing!

just like a guilty child, he averts his eyes as his blood boils across his neck. his feet act on their own, guided by the desire to disappear as quickly as he can with hurried steps and trembling hands that are more than eager to open his front door and seal him behind their sanctuary, and he feels even more guilt for awkwardly avoiding the kind yet confused smile you’d sent his way as you watched the large man scurry up his front steps. the protruding bulge that pokes out from his trousers is so painfully obvious, almost aching behind its confines as he prays that you hadn’t had enough time to notice it. and even then, behind his barrier of safety, he’s left with a problem — a very big one that powders his nose red and takes his breath on laboured climbs.

huffing, wakatoshi trudges to the kitchen, desperately searching his refrigerator for the coldest bottle of water he can find and starts chugging right away. arctic drops spill between his lips and down his throat, though the chill does nothing to dissipate the heat coursing beneath his skin and inside his pants. he doesn’t intend to slam the now half empty bottle down on his counter the way he does, but he loses control and water spills over, and his olive eyes only glare at the puddle that drips over on his marbled floor with something of disdain and increasing frustration.

for all that was holy, he can’t stop thinking of you. even now, with cold water sticking to his skin and poured over his bare feet, wakatoshi cannot get this image of you out of his mind and is rendered powerless to the aching boner that refuses to go away. within just one moment, you’ve seeped into his mind like a parasite that morphs and festers on sin and fornication, plaguing him with your large breasts and plump thighs that sheened with sweat and poured out from beneath your sundress. it’s a hard battle he faces with himself, feeling morally disgusted by the thoughts he finds himself with, and all about a stranger, no less. there’s no way he could be acting so depraved, right? is he a man so starved that the mere sight of an admittedly attractive woman could send him reeling like a damn teenage boy?

once more, wakatoshi heaves a heavy sigh, slouching for a moment with hands clenching the edge of his black stone counter before he rises to his full height. it’ll do him good to at least clean up this spill, and perhaps, he thinks, he aught to keep himself busy — surely then, he’ll forget all about you, and this glaring problem beneath his trousers will forget you too.

thankfully, it’s easier than he’d had hoped to fill the hours of his day. after taking care of his spill, wakatoshi takes to his home gym and continues working out till the late evening, when he showers and prepares himself to settle in with a cup of white wine and a book that he’d bought himself a while back, though only just recently had the time to begin. it’s only so rare for him to be able to enjoy slow days like this between training and volleyball tournaments, and he finds himself at peace with this lull in his schedule. finally, he feels relaxed and at ease, and his stressful situation from the afternoon earlier is far from his mind, until there’s a knock at his front door, and his heart lurches in his chest.

apprehensive, he turns his jade coloured eyes to the smoky glass panels by his entrance, and he feels his tongue turn heavy when he sees you waiting. for a moment, he hopes that you’ll give up if he doesn’t answer, though he immediately feels a bit guilty for thinking that. you’re only wanting to greet your new neighbour and make a good first impression, he considers, and it certainly isn’t any fault of yours the situation he’d found himself in earlier that day. you’re entirely blameless, and it’s really him who apparently needs to mature and grow a bit more than he’d thought. taking a long sip from his glass of chardonnay, wakatoshi builds himself on liquid courage and meets you by his doorway — though there’s no amount of wine that could’ve possibly prepared him for the sight that greets him once he opens the door.

you’re here, but you hadn’t come alone. hiding behind each leg are a young boy and girl who look about the same age and share striking resemblance to your own soft features. heads topped by black, wavy curls, with her tied in pigtails and his cut to his shoulders, there’s curiosity in their dark brown eyes as they appraise him, and he feels almost as if they’re judging him with something that he can’t identify. and you, you smile sweetly at him, your lips painted with a clear gloss that shines golden beneath the lights of his entryway’s chandelier.

“i’m sorry for disturbing you so late in the night, mister,” you offer your apology, and wakatoshi can hear more clearly the distinction in your accent that he’d only briefly heard before. now, as he listens attentively, unconsciously taking in the sultriness of your voice as your words flow from your two-toned lips, he’s certain that it really is a kansai dialect. “i’d just wanted to introduce ourselves since we’d just moved into the neighbourhood.” you lift your hands, that he now notices are not empty, to present a beautifully packaged basket with a little pink bow tying it closed. “and we also brought you these as a gift — a thank you gift, kind of! for having us here with you!”

wakatoshi accepts the gift basket from your hands, trying his best not to focus on the way you tuck your hair behind your ears and beam brightly up at him. standing so close, he’s able to notice new things about you that he wishes he didn’t feel so curious about; like the way you style yourself elegantly, your straight black hair parted to the side, curling the smaller hairs surrounding your forehead so that they lay neatly and perfectly brushed to frame your round face, or the fact that you stand several inches shorter than him, perhaps only barely reaching his chest. he wishes he doesn’t take in the clothes you wear and how they fit your beautiful figure, how your white cardigan hangs elegantly over a beige tank top and khaki coloured pants that accentuate your mature body. he tries, not to notice these many things about you, and so hopelessly fails, as he clears his throat and tries to offer you a polite smile that he hopes doesn’t come off as a grimace.

“thank you for being so thoughtful,” he says, and your smile widens, your eyes creasing around your expression as you respectfully bow.

“it’s my pleasure! i really should be thanking you for welcoming us this late!” theres a timidness to your grin as you lift yourself to full standing once more and you bashfully laugh. “it took us a little longer than we thought to prepare all our gift baskets — oh, right!” your eyes widen on a realization, “my name’s (l/n) (f/n), and these two here,” gesturing to the two children behind you, you bend down a bit to rest a hand on either of their backs. “this here is asahi, and this is makoto.”

the two young children, with your encouragement, bow their heads in greeting to him, with the boy — asahi — quickly returning to hide behind your leg, while makoto continues to stare at him, now with her curiosity unbridled and what looks like an eagerness that roars beneath her brown eyes.

he looks back up at you and offers a bow of his own, ducking his head with the basket clutched to his chest. “my name’s ushijima wakatoshi,” he says his name, and immediately, he hears two simultaneous gasps from the children by your feet. though, at least in this moment, he decides not to ponder too much on the expression. “thank you for introducing yourselves and for bringing a gift.”

you wave your hand in a ‘shoo shoo’ motion and shake your head. “no need for thanks, ushijima-san,” you hum, “really, it’s nothing much, but i hope you’ll be able to find good use for them— ”

“are you a volleyball player?”

suddenly, the little girl, makoto, blurts out a question that causes your eyes to widen and catches him off guard as you both turn your attention to her. she continues to stare up at him, as if awaiting his answer despite you reaching for her hand to gently pull her back. “makoto!” you exhale, a bit surprised, it seemed, as if you hadn’t expected her to ask something like that. though wakatoshi, he doesn’t take any issue at all with her question, and he simply nods his head, once more offering the most polite of smiles he can muster.

“that’s right. i play volleyball.”

you seem to recognize something within the awe-filled gazes of the two children that he doesn’t, because before either of them can get a word out, you’re hurriedly reaching for their hands and making your way down the stairs. “thanks so much again, mr. ushijima!” you call back to him with one free hand, leaving the man standing stunned inside his doorway as you walk away from him. “let’s get along well from now on!” when you think you’re far enough, he thinks he hears your voice taking to astonishment as the little girl whines a complaint — “but mom, we saw him on tv! it’s really him!” and your response heavily pouring with your dialect as you lightly scold her for blurting out so suddenly.

he’s left here, basket in his hand as he hears several gears creaking to their abrupt stops and clanking as they fall apart in his mind. mom? she’d said mom, hadn’t she? with ghostly steps that are far too quiet for a man of his stature, wakatoshi shuffles to his expansive living room where he sets your gift atop his clear glass coffee table, right next to his glass of wine and his book, and collapses into the black suede sofa behind him. you’re a mother? the guilt that consumes him tastes bitter and threatens to crawl up his throat. he sits, hands folded above his lips as his elbows dig into his thighs, and he stays this way for one minute, then two, constantly replaying the sound of your daughter calling you mom. your daughter, your daughter and son, you have a daughter and a son who both call you mom—

wearily, wakatoshi’s eyes glaze over your cutely packaged gift and straight to the glass of wine that sits like a pretty temptation, and cruelly, he thinks of how you are just the same. a beautiful and painfully enticing temptation that will surely render him helpless if he gets any more involved with you. he groans, hissing under his breath as he reaches for the glass and stands up. it’ll serve him better to retire for the night, he concedes, a hand nursing the growing migraine that sits on either side of his head. he’ll finish his glass and read his book peacefully in bed, and for the second time this day, wakatoshi will forget all about you.

except, he doesn’t.

amidst his waking dreams and long night, forgetting you is impossible. how can he, when you come to him here in his bed, the straps of your purple dress falling from your brown shoulders and your breasts pouring out from the thin material? how is wakatoshi supposed to forget you when in his dreams, you tease him with the likeness of a vixen, when you lift the edges of your skirt to show him just how plump and fleshy your thighs and ass are, whispering “do you wish to touch me, mr. ushijima?” in that sultry, silk-like voice of yours. he dreams of the way your eyes would roll back into your skull if he brushes his fingers over that sweet spot between your legs, if his tongue traces lines over your panties until your knees buck and you fall right on top of him. in his dreams, he wants you so much that it’s an ache he needs to fill, until he’s unconsciously fucking his mattress and squeezing his pillows with a vice. his breathing is laboured and tasting of honey as he begs you yes, yes, please, i need you… need you so bad, please i need to touch you—

his climax rocks his body like an earthquake and tears him away from sleep with a jolt, his chest heaving as sweat clings to his skin and his eyes, disoriented, search his dark room for your image before they fall to the soiled mess leaking through his boxers and between his thighs. his damn cock is twitching, still painfully sensitive, and wakatoshi stutters through a gasp as his hips buck uncontrollably, as if chasing some phantom feeling, cum still continuing to spurt from the angry red tip. he reels from pure shock and a bit of morbid amazement as he reflects on his dream, and as he recalls those dirty visuals his mind managed to conjure, he lets out a loud, frustrated cry and falls flat against his mattress. really, is this the man he is? a perverted fool who has inappropriate thoughts and dreams about another man’s wife?

he curses himself, and curses his mind too, as he begrudgingly swings his legs over the edge of his california king and. sleep evades him now, he certainly fears reliving that dream that felt far too realistic, your touches, the taste of you — all far too real that it leaves him shaken. one hand lifts to brush his sweat-matted hair away from his forehead as his eyes disdainfully behold the mess he’s left all over his dark sheets, where his semen sits in a large puddle while there are still drops running down his thighs, and he unwillingly thinks about you once more. those sounds that your voice made in his dream, all those dirty songs and cries of his name that you’d uttered, the way your skin felt so supple and soft beneath his hands as he felt you up and spread your legs apart—

a surprised moan causes wakatoshi to slap a hand around his mouth as his cock twitches in his soiled boxers, still very hard and leaking through the now cold material. no, he decides, he really won’t be able to fall asleep again — not like this, at least. but wakatoshi has practice in the morning, and within all his years of playing volleyball, he’d never gone a night without proper sleep. for the umpteenth time, he groans helplessly, flopping back down on the edge of his bed. he glares at his boner, wishing it would just peacefully deflate and that, really this time, he could forget you and just go back to bed; and again, once again, he sighs, and submits himself to a decision he’s certain that he’ll immediately curse himself for as he pulls out his cock and wraps his fist around it.

he hates himself for it, but it’s so easy for him to build a perfect fantasy of you. one where you’re sitting prettily on your knees and batting those doe-brown eyes up at him through your lashes. his hand squeezes softly around his erection and at first, he moves slowly, choking back each heavy breath of air that threatens to burst through tightly pursed lips. but god, he thinks of the way you’d tease him, slowly tracing your mouth over the tip and leaving a trail of saliva and strawberry flavoured lip-gloss while your manicured nails would trace tantalizingly lines down his thighs. his hips buck impatiently into his own fist and his chest heaves with soft grunts that become more uninhibited as he imagines you finally slipping him into your warm mouth and his very spirit crumbles on the lust that consumes him.

“does that feel good, mr. ushijima?” you’d beseech him, so eager to please as you’d trace your tongue across his leaking slit, collecting the drops of precum that poured out and smear it around your lips. and he’d be just as breathless as he feels in his fantasy, trying and failing to conceal each gasp that evades him as he nods, “yes.. yes, your mouth feels so fucking good.” he’d force you to swallow him whole, pushing your head down to the base until you’d choke and your eyes would water as he’d throw his head back — without his will, his hand moves faster around his cock and fills his dark bedroom with filthy, sloppy noises. “take every inch, don’t you fucking dare spit it out. that’s it, shit…just like that. swallow it all the way down.”

he thinks of how fleshy and warm the back of your throat would feel as you’d gag around him and dig your nails into his thigh, struggling to take even a single breath through your nostrils as he’d mercilessly fuck your face. he’d drag you off him suddenly and slap his cock against those messy lips, and he’d get to admire the way you’d fall apart as your mouth lolls open as if begging him to put it back in. “ohh, such a greedy little slut, aren’t you?” he’d taunt, and a particularly loud, wanton moan rises from his chest as he imagines the way you’d use your hands all while staring up at him. you’d be the very picture of salaciousnes as your hands wrap around his smeared length, teasing the underside of him with your tongue and groaning through your own arousal. he imagines how he’d wrap his hand around your throat as he’d tower over you; he’d have your face pressed right up to his stomach while he’d reach down and grab a handful of your breasts, reeling at how soft and squishy they’d feel pouring between his already large hands before he’d twist your nipples, and you’d whine like a helpless nymph from how sensitive your body would become. “go on, then.” he’d hum, and he wouldn’t give you even a second to prepare before he’d have you choking around his length, groaning as spit would bubble around his erection and pour from your nostrils. “use those pretty little lips of yours. mhm, let daddy feel your tongue on his dick while he fucks your throat.”

and its as he pictures the way your eyes would roll into the back of your head, cheeks puffed and stuffed full as you whine around him that, for the second time that night, wakatoshi cums into his fist. pleasure sears through his teeth and down his spine as spurts of semen explode from his slit and he forgets himself on the suddenness of his orgasm. “shit… ahh— aahhhh, shit!” the spots in his vision and the heat that consumes him from his bone and to his skin, it all coalescences on a pleasure he’d never once felt in his thirty-three years of living. his entire body trembles and his cock twitches against his abs, cum splashing against his sweat-sheened skin and dripping over his skin like hot, molten lava. the afterglow of pleasure is forsaken for the adrenaline that courses through his blood and turns the taste of his tongue to metals untold.

through his bliss, wakatoshi reaches clarity, and is overwhelmed by an intense wave of disgust and repulsion as he glares at his cock so feebly slapping against his stomach; it’s still hard, the damn thing, and every cell in his body craves ravenously for more, more, more…but he refuses. absolutely refuses to repeat what he’d just done. for christ’s sake, you are a mother — a wife to someone who you return to each night, who gets to hold you and touch you, to whom you may give your heart and gentle affections to. tonight had been a mistake, he tells himself; an irrational lapse in judgement, and come morning — he means it this time, really! truthfully! — he’ll forget all about this sin, and forget about you. you’ll be nothing more than a new neighbour who moved in with your family, and your interactions will be few and far between, enough that he’ll be forgiven for the immorality that he’d let himself fall to.

but the devil, oh, the devil, bless his soul, he has his tricks, and he loves to play.

wakatoshi hasn’t at all forgotten about the previous night, but he pretends that he has. on the cusp of dawn, when the rising sun sinks her warm fingers through his tousled hair, he focuses on his beating heart and his laboured breath as he jogs through the park and back through his gated community. he pretends that he didn’t jerk off to his new neighbour and envision her doing the dirtiest things to him, and he almost succeeds.

almost.

he nearly swears when he walks out of his front door the next morning and bumps into you at the earliest hours of dawn. there you are, where you shouldn’t be — not this early in the morning before the sun had risen, when he’d made sure to leave early enough that he would’ve avoided this situation exactly. it’s summer, isn’t it? why, wakatoshi wonders, had you woken up so early? could he really be do unlucky? he sees you and your two children, and he’s now certain that they must be twins, and you’re too busy fixing their backpacks on their backs and fussing over their hair and faces to even notice him awkwardly frozen by his doorstep.

“you both have everything you need, right?” your voice reaches him on tones of faint worry and anxiousness as you lean down over your children, unwittingly showing off your rack for him to see between the button up blouse you wear. even from where he stands, it’s such a clear picture that he feels his head spin as his eyes remain glued there. “you’ve got your toothbrushes and toothpaste? lotion? shampoo and conditioner?”

your son, asahi, tries to escape your busy hands, though it doesn’t dissuade you very much it seems. “mama, we already have everything!” he grumbles with a slight pout, “we’ll be alright.”

a quiet sigh falls from your lips as, finally, you relent, kneeling down to hug your two children. “i know you will be, asahi,” you whisper softly before pressing a kiss to each of their foreheads. “promise me you’ll both be good and have lots of fun, alright? can you send me a text when you get there safely?” both the twins nod their head yes before placing a kiss on either of your cheeks, and wakatoshi finds the sight endearing as he sees your smile brighten on tenderness and motherly affection. a part of him feels as if he’s intruding on what should be a family’s private and treasured moment, something precious that should only be seen by your husband and not the creepy neighbour next door. his stomach turns in on itself and, like a demon he can’t escape, guilt and shame crawl over his neck.

“bye mama!” makoto is the first one to hop on to her bike, waving her hand excitedly and full of energy despite the early morning, while her twin follows in a far less eager manner as he waves at you too. “i love you!”

“i love you mama..!”

“i love you both, you two!” now standing at full height, you wave both your hands as both asahi and makoto start to pedal away. “make sure to have lots of fun!”

before long, both your children have gone down the hill and you’re left alone with a wistful smile, and wakatoshi finds himself desperate to go before you have the chance to notice him standing. his normally sure feet fail him on a moment as he stumbles in his hurriedness, and in his attempt to steady himself, his hands fall slack and drop the very large, very metal he’d bottle been carrying with a loud clang! that causes your head to whip around. he meets your gaze, shame bubbling in his gut and he wishes that lightning would just fall from the sky and take him from his misery. what happened to avoiding you as best as he could? he wonders, what happened to leaving at the crack of dawn and being on his way before he’d need to lay eyes on you again so soon after last night?

wakatoshi is so embarrassed that he could die.

“ah! good morning, mr. ushijima.” you, oblivious to his plight, greet him politely, bowing your head. he notices the way you absentmindedly pull your cardigan over your sheer night dress, the chill from the morning mist having caused you to shiver a little. your nipples have turned hard and poke through the thin white material, and are very, very visible without him needing to try and see them. he purses his lips, sighs through his nostrils and averts his gaze, focusing instead on retrieving his traitorous waterbottle and praying that his grey slacks do well to hide the problem that now begins to grow beneath them.

“good morning, mrs. (l/n.)”

he tries to focus on his feet as he descends down his front steps, ensuring that he doesn’t lose his footing once more rather than looking at you. and yet, he can’t help the awkwardness that he feels as every muscle in his body seems to have tensed up despite him having gone jogging to warm himself up. you remain none the wiser, something he’s thankful for, as he hopes and prays that he can get past you and on his way before you notice his strange demeanour.

“do you normally get up this early?” you ask in a polite attempt at making small talk, to which wakatoshi offers you a slight nod as he gives you just enough of his attention.

“yes,” and, admittedly, he’s also curious, and he returns a question against his better judgement. “do you?”

laughter bubbles up from your lips as you shake your head. “goodness, no!” you chime playfully, lifting your watch to see the hour; 5:39. “it’s too early for me, but asahi and makoto are about to start summer camp for their club — i’d only been seeing them off today.”

he offers an understanding nod, similarly recalling the days of his youth where he’d also attended summer camps during elementary through high school. right now, he considers would be a perfect time to end this conversation and see himself away now that he’s heard what he wanted from you, but something in him urges him to stay, to talk to you more and spend some time with you. he knows he’s not the best at small talk, is all too aware that his social skills are terrible, at their worst, incredibly abysmal, but he wants to try — against his better moment, and he’s reminding himself all the while that you’re a mother and a married woman, but despite that, he wants to talk more with you. perhaps, and it’s a delusion that he forces himself to believe, he’d want to be friendly with you. it’ll certainly be easier than perpetually avoiding you when you’d done nothing wrong to him, after all.

“are you—” fuck, his voice sounds scratchy as he clears his throat, blush creeping over his cheeks. “are you um… headed back to bed then?”

as you ponder his question, he gets to take in your morning appearance. your hair’s been brushed and tied back with a little white bow, and your lips look air brushed and as soft as rose petals. hugging your sides beneath your cardigan, you shiver, and wakatoshi notices the way you slightly lean back and forth on your heels. “i guess it’d be a waste to try and sleep again now,” you hum with your gaze turned towards the horizon, where the sun begins to peak over the far off mountain on soft blue touched by golden hues. “i’ll need to be ready for work in a few hours.” you turn your gaze to him with a cheekish grin, and his heart skips a beat. “why not start my morning now, right?”

oh. oh, this is bad. for the second time, waktoshi tries to clear his throat with a hand covering his mouth and averts his eyes from your beaming face. “i’ll let you get to it then,” he says, his voice sounding so small and timid to him that he feels his mind reeling and his tongue turning heavy. “enjoy the rest of your morning, ms. (l/n).”

“thank you, ushijima-san! you do the same, okay?” for a second, he lets his eyes find yours, and they dazzle him within just that moment that he has to look away. he leaves as you re-enter your home, and it’s the only thing he can do to squeeze the straps of his bag to rid himself of the jittery feeling racking through his spine. his heart beats too loudly and he feels dazed, as if he walks on clouds and forgets how to even breathe.

he doesn’t— no, he can’t be; his feet break from the slow pace as he breaks into a jog, each muscle within him burning cold and begging for release from the thoughts in his mind. there’s no way… he doesn’t like you, does he? why else would he have dreamt of you the way he had? why else would he feel so nervous and timid when you stand face to face? the morning dew tastes like liquid mercury and sets through his veins on a violent rush as he runs, as far away from you as he can get, hoping to immediately expel you from his thoughts, to escape this hold that you seem to have locked around him.

he laughs at himself, helpless and bewildered; is he really nothing more than a foolish boy? at thirty-something years old, ushijima wakatoshi is developing a crush on his married neighbour — even the mere notion to him is so adamantly ridiculous that he could throw himself off a bridge. he feels embarrassed, utterly and completely mortified, and it’s for his sake that he tries to push the notion far, far away, so that, at least for the day, he wouldn’t have to think about it. he suppresses these budding epiphanies in the face of his teammates, who tease him for being seven minutes later than he usually is and tries to ignore the fact that it’s all because he’d stayed and talked with you. he tries to forget about you through the drills and practice rounds, lets the heavy beating of his heart turn its turmoil into adrenaline and sweat that seeps through his thin shirt. wakatoshi falls into routine and this time, certainly, this time, he’s moved on. the feelings that soaked through his core on the early morning’s dawn have disappeared and melted away on summer’s blistering heat, and he thinks that finally, he can let go of that ghost that’s haunted him from the night until morn.

but noon, as it always does, succeeds the dawn, and there you are.

the burn in his muscles turns to a seething fire that he fears will consume him right where he stands, amidst the people around him going about their days while he remains glued in place. his heart, oh the poor thing, it beats on the fallings of a thousand horses and threatens to rip right from between his rips and spill itself out on the pavement. wakatoshi wants to run, he wants to take flight and escape into the burning sun, but his feet fail him on the jolts that run through his aching muscles when your eyes, oh, he imagines he sees the world in them, find his amidst the sea that threatens to swallow him whole.

“ah? mr. ushjimima!” your voice calls out to him a surprise he thinks he feels on tenfold as you approach the man. god, how many hours has it been, even? he’d only just seen you this morning, isn’t it too soon for him to be put through this never-ending crisis? he doesn’t feel as if he’s ready, as if he can look you in the eyes while trying to force away the memories of last night, or the turbulent mess that dances and ties red knots around his throbbing heart. “i didn’t expect to see you here too.”

neither did i, he thinks helplessly, though he offers a single words that sounds choked up in his throat, “practice.”

“oh!” you chime, your eyes gazing behind him to where the large sports gym stays only so many paces behind — if he really wants, wakatoshi could easily pretend that he has to return if only to escape from you, but he doesn’t — for some incomprehensible reason, his tongue betrays him with the phantom taste of you.

“well,” you smile, and laughter spills from your lips as you tuck your hair behind your ear and meet his eyes from behind your lashes. “i didn’t think i’d see you again so soon — and at my place of work, no less.”

i didn’t think i would, either, wakatoshi thinks to himself, and then your words rewind in his mind and everything halts. your place of work? the question spills from his lips before he can even think to stop it. “you work here?”

you nod with a hum, gesturing with your palm to the academic buildings that span the expansive lot. “i teach vocal composition and contemporary piano courses here.”

“ah.” of course. wakatoshi is bewildered; how unlucky could he be? for the married woman he fantasized about to be working at the very same university that his team frequents for volleyball practice? he takes a moment to curse the heavens and the cruel gods within them because certainly, they must find humour in his agony.

like lasers, wakatoshi’s eyes become too hyperfocused on you all at once. there’s sweat gleaming down your neck and dipping between your breasts and trailing wet marks down your v-line as you, absentmindedly, fan at yourself. he takes in the way your eyes scrunch together and your lips part with a heavy breath, a sigh that, to his ears, sounds lewd and filthy, and on that single breath, his world runs like a viscous furnace. he’s like a moth drawn to each and every detail about you that swells on the summer’s heat and as he stands here, everything consumes him — the slight pout of your full, puffy lips, the display of your breasts that look so big that they could pop out of your low button up dress at any second, those big, doe-like eyes of yours that are so close to rolling back beneath the agonizing heat — every bit of you accords into a vision of immeasurable pleasure and lust, and then you look at him, head tilted back and panting ever so slightly, and it’s enough and too much all at the same time.

“it’s awfully hot today, isn’t it, mr. ushijima?”

wakatoshi thinks he’ll lose his mind.

something breaks like a faucet and pours scalding water all over himself as he feels his grey sweats becoming too tight, too confining, just like the situation he finds himself in and he decides that now would be the perfect time to leave. “i have to head back.” he nearly stutters over his abrupt sentence, and he sees the slightly startled look that comes over your sun kissed face. again, he feels guilty for fooling you, for lying straight to those innocently pure eyes that are none the wiser of the effects you have on him. in a pathetic attempt that he doubts you’ll even believe, he tries to dissuade you with a simple, yet suffocated, “practice is gonna start soon.”

“oh, of course!” his lie seems to work, and wakatoshi hopes that the relief that locks inside his throat isn’t too obvious as you turn your feet to the opposite direction. “i didn’t mean to hold you up, i’m so sorry!”

“no, it’s alright.” it’s not, but what is he supposed to say? “i’m sure you’ll need to prepare for your next class soon.”

you giggle, hiding your smile behind your hand, and your eyes crinkle at the corners. “you’re right. it was a very nice surprise to see you again, mr. ushijima!”

as he makes his pathetic escape, wakatoshi prays that you don’t find him weird after this, but perhaps if you’d have any inclination of what he’d done, what he’s about to do, would you look at him in disgust? of course you would — he asks himself, how could you not? his feet can’t take him to the secluded gym fast enough as he forsakes everything about himself, purely fueled now by this burning desire that’s carnal in its awakening. the bathroom door locks and the bolt slams with a loud click, the ac languidly blowing through this confined area not nearly enough to quell the fire blazing across his skin. it’s immoral and utterly deprived what he considers doing, and the shame he feels is bound to be an eternal scar. yet in this moment, with his cock so painfully hard and pressing uncomfortably against his thigh, leaking so much precum that it stains through the thick material of his shorts, wakatoshi doesn’t care — not for the ungodliness of the act he’ll commit, nor for the consequences that could follow him. not now, at least. as he releases his throbbing member from its binds and wraps his fists around it, it’s the farthest thing from his mind as he thinks about you. again, it’s you.

the wind in his lungs is knocked out from his mouth as he rapidly pumps his dick. in an instant, the empty bathroom is filled with the squelching noises that bounce and echo off the tiled walls, only contested by his laboured breaths and groans. his knees threaten to lose their ground, and he desperately clutches the cold edge of the sink, the chill consuming his palm almost jarring to the aggressive heat that pours all through him. the image of you with your head tilted towards the sky, of your lips hanging open on salacious cries of his name as he envisions you on top of him, it all drives him to the brink of insanity.

wakatoshi thinks of your body in that tight button up dress blue dress. he thinks of how elegant and put together you looked, the picture perfect woman, and how he wants to tear apart only the top pins open and let your breasts fall out so that he could take them between his lips. how would you sound, he wondered, if he rolled your nipples between his teeth, sucked on them with his tongue until they’d turn hard and perky? would you cry out his name just like you always do? would that sweet voice of yours sing out on torrential pleasure as you’d call out to him, your thighs squeezing around his waist while your hips buck and wriggle over his cock? that innocent façade you wear, how quickly could he make you abandon all reason for desire, until you begged him with your words of honey for him to destroy you?

his fantasy falls apart and rips through him like a comet as cum explodes from his throbbing member and spills through his fingers, ever so narrowly missing his pants and spurting out on the tiled floors. it’s non-stop, this horrible, horrible mess that keeps on growing, his body jolting and knees feeling weak and he struggles to hold himself up because he can’t stop coming, so consumed in his fantasy that the moans he fought so hard to contain now ring freely inside the empty bathroom as his hand continues to milk every drop that jolts out of him. you’re the only thing in his mind, consuming him with hellfire as pleasure winds him up and tears him apart over and over again, and he knows he needs to stop, he’s being too loud, too careless, he could get caught, but god, does this taboo feel so good that he loses control. his depraved mind wonders on you catching him, cumming all over his hands like a depraved beast, all because of you?

there’s a daze that overcomes wakatoshi, heat fading to a warmth that fights for some kind of structure to hold on to as he, breathlessly, leans over the sink. his eyes look down between his legs, the length of his cock still twitching in his palm and cum smeared around it and webbing along his fingers. it doesn’t yet come to him, the reality of what he’s done, and its awakening is slow and steady, until it crashes all around him with the last wisps of adrenaline trickling out of his system. for a long time, he stares at his hands, at the mess smeared in his palm and all over his pants, and he meets his stare in his reflection. he stares, but doesn’t comprehend as a minute becomes two, and then five, and when it’s been far beyond ten, his body flushes over with red-hot embarrassment as he clenches his teeth and drops his head.

wakatoshi, filled with shame, wishes he could throw himself into the sun.

© mambalae-s - rb's+feedback are greatly appreciated!!

[coleskingdom]

Kintsugi

18+ Smut NSFW

In honor of tonight’s collision

Adam Page x F Reader x Jay White

@madhatterbri @midwestmade29

“Mornin” holding the elevator for what appeared to be a very hungover Page. “I’d say it’s a miracle that you’re walking this morning after your performance last night. “ I looked at him confused and a blush fell to my cheeks when he eyed me. “Excuse me?” my voice cold. “It’s good you moved on, necessary even. I’m surprised with him though, if I had been a betting man, I would’ve lost the bet.”his eyes not leaving mine, “I figured you would’ve picked someone kind, Will, Cole, even running to Matt would’ve been my guesses. Then again maybe Jay was the only one who’d have you. “ I didn’t know this version of him. “ Fuck you” I hissed, the hurt in my voice showing. “You’d like that wouldn’t you. Does he know how broken you really are? Knowing him though he sees every bit of you. He’s probably compared you to Kintsugi, the Japanese art of how beautiful broken things can be repaired with gold and become whole and new again.” his voice void of emotion. “Fuck you” was the only thing I could say.

He hit the stop button on the elevator. “Say it again and I will.” his eyes looking me up and down. “It was a helluva performance from you last night though. You’ve gotten louder, good for you by the way. You always were to quiet but your body would betray you as it showed in the way you’d soak my mouth, my cock my bed.. Though you didn’t cry out his name, you copped out with Daddy. Which honestly worked for me since I couldn’t resist a little release of my own. I imagined my cock in your mouth with the defiant way you’d look up at me through your lashes, then you were riding me, I could tell the moment you came though. The Oh Oh Fuck, oh Daddy.” the last words mocking me. “F——“ I bit my words off, I backed against the elevator wall as he caged me in. “What was that darlin?” I was frozen under the intensity of his gaze. His knuckles brushed the side of my cheek, fore titling my chin up to him. My hands went to push him away, but landed on his chest . His body so much different than Jays where Jay was hard edges Adam was soft and muscular .i closed my eyes my hands remembering how I would curl into this chest, use it for stability and how much he liked it when my hands rested there. My breath caught and I closed my eyes. He dropped my chin, and hit the button again. The elevator started moving again. “You smell like him, you wear him now. I’m going to destroy him tonight and when I do. That last pathetic whimper before I pin him is for you.” With that he walked into the hotel lobby, I hit the up button furiously. The door closed, and I was alone my ride back to the penthouse.

I came into the room shaking. “Jay.” I called when he wasn’t in the bed, I heard the shower. I quickly stripped and joined him. Stepping in the steamy warmth. “Sweetheart this is a nice surprise I thought you were gone to get coffee and breakfast.” his arms wrapping around me . “He’s going to hurt you because of me.” I sobbed into his chest. “Who’s going to hurt me?” his voice soothing as if I had woken up from a nightmare. I told him everything, he had to know it all. “I’ll kill him, that prick thinks he can just say whatever he wants to you.” I grabbed the soap and began at his feet and washed up the back of his legs , to his ass, up his strong back as I pressed kisses on scars that came before we were together. “The Owen isn’t that important. “ as I moved down his arms to his chest and his abs. He chuckled as he took the soap from my hand and began to rub my shoulders his hands working the knots out of my neck. “You’re to tense, if you don’t relax, I’m going to have to think of a different way to get your muscles to release.” a shiver running through me. “Jay, make me forget this morning.” with that he guided me against the wall of the shower angling the shower head so the warmth was on us both the setting changed to a gentle rain. He lifts me up and buried himself in me, I gasp loudly then my hands cup his face as I kiss him, desperate to have him. His thrusts match the rhythm of the kiss. As if he knew he began to move faster and harder. “You were made for me. You take me so well sweet girl. There’s nothing that I won’t do for you, there’s nothing I won’t walk through for you.” Each sentence a thrust that has him hitting deep inside causing me to gasp , “Jay, I’m so close.” he tilts at just a slight angle.” Come with ‘me.” That’s all it took I was shaking in his arms as I clenched around him his name falling like a chant from my lips. He pressed his forehead into mine as he came long thick ropes buried deep inside of me. I buried my head in his neck. My body now lax, as he holds me tighter. “So Jay now is it?”as he strokes my hair. “ I like the way you say it, I like that I know it’s me that you’re here with, the way it fell from your lips just before you came.” He turns off the water , and wraps me in a robe. He has me back in bed and I’m crying out his name 4 more times before he settles me into him and I drift off to sleep “5-0 to the switchblade, you dumb cowboy bitch.” Loud enough that if Adam was in his room he knew the shot Jay just took at him.

[red-viewe]

Well...well...well...so moony thinks i forgot about the honey x moony thing...? How daaaaare she.

____

Moony chan was in the Japanese gym, where all the alpha daddies worked out, doing squats. Moony preferd it at the Omega gym, where all the omegas were, but moony was there for one reason only.

Daddy Wolf honeybun.

Moony's lustful, big, sparkly eyes wandered to Honeybun kuns 89 pask muscles and his big, juicy bulge. Honeybun's sweat fell down his bread like skin and his juicy wuicy leg.

"Like what ur seeing, kitten?" He said, turning around to the sweating omega. "With how small and lustful you smell, you could be taken away and marked by some alpha whos not me." He walked slowly to Moony, with a smrik as big as his di-

"U-uwu... HVZHRHWHAJJABAHABHAHAHHA THIS IS TOO MUCH😭😭😭😭🐺🐺🐺

@cheezy-moon

[dragomer]

My headcanons for Zuko and Azula’s kid.

Izumi: A playful mommy and daddy’s kid, frequently accompanying them around the palace as well as hanging out with the rest of her siblings. Izumi, despite being her playfully energetic self, knows when to be serious when the time comes.

Boris: The second oldest child of Zuko and Azula next to Izumi, Boris idolizes his mother during The Thousand Year War. Boris isn’t exactly liked by the rest of his siblings as they think he’s a moron and a weasel who backstabs anyone for his own personal gain. He does deeply care for his parents and siblings and would help or comfort them if they needed.

Gudu Zhe: Boris’ twin sister is a quiet introverted girl who rarely hangs out with her siblings, spending time in the library reading and learning about her nation’s history. This knowledge led her to discover her parents were siblings, but she doesn’t mind it, as long as she has the library then she’s happy to be their daughter.

Ren Zu and Baoshui: The two youngest children of the Zuko’s family, the inseparable pair both share the same love and passion for their favorite activity; causing mischief. Ren Zu always comes up with the plan as she believes she’s the brains of the pair while Baoshui serves as the muscle as he doesn’t really know much, despite being two years older. Much like his father, he finds himself being called a “dum-dum” by his sister.

Cool ideas! Boris sound more Russian and the other two sound more chinese than japanese but other than that I like it!

Thanks for the ask ^^

[the-whispers-of-death]

If rusty asks then 🔮 delivers!

He is 7 feet tall and 10 inches

Plus-sized, nice and chubby but he still has incredible muscles he can fight

He has a mean resting bitch face and a vertical scar on his forehead from accidentally hitting himself in the face with an axe (idk how he survived that)

He has really long sharp nails that are about 4 inches (his youngest daughters like to paint his nails)

One of his eyes are dark brown and one of them is golden

He has really long 3A/3B hair

He is half Japanese half Jamaican

Monolids

Full lips

Thick eyebrows

Dark bronze skin

Lobe piercings

He has a tattoo of a dragon-fish hybrid coming out of a water jar, swimming around on his back with stars behind them

He has two arm sleeves of tattoos, one that contains every single flower that his daughters have given him on father's day (hes still adding to it) and the other is ball python with a bunch of his favorite butterfly (peacock butterfly) to symbolize hus pet snake that he has when he was 13

He has five tattoos on his left pec with that are his daughters name and their birthdays written in reverse so everytime he looks in the mirror he can read it

He also has knuckle tattoos, one saying 'Snow' and the other one saying 'King' because his mother had him in the middle of a blizzard

-🔮

Stone: Daddy's so hot.

Python and Cairo can bond over their ball pythons, he just wanted me to say that before Stone glared at him.