kikilyo

He blinks. Once. Twice. And stares. 

The longer Suna stares at you under the grey, purplish-pinkish sky with his hands shoved into his pockets and his left eye twitching, you realize you don’t know him at all. Because Suna, in all his indifference and nonchalance, looks hurt. You see something flit beneath his eyes, but you’ve never been good at reading people. So you settle on the idea that it’s something less than betrayal but more than indifference, and you don’t know why your heart’s beating so fast and sinking, pitter pattering and twisting in your stomach. 

You feel sick. 

“You like Kita-san,” He says, and it comes out as a statement, not a question. He blinks a third time, and as the look in his eyes disappears as quickly as it came, you decide you much prefer the hurt or the discomfort or the something over the blank apathy that he’s looking you over with now. “You have a crush on Kita… Shinsuke.” He finishes, and you can’t hear the bitterness in his voice over the shrill of your heart. 

You’ve always liked Suna’s eyes but tonight you like the pavement more, and as you stare a hole into the concrete beneath you, you ignore how your feet are fidgeting and your palms are sweaty and how Rintarou is hovering over you. 

“Mhm,” You squeak, tearing your eyes from the asphalt with the cracks and an ugly pill-bug on the ground. As you look up to grey eyes and dark hair, you wish that loving Suna Rintarou was harder. 

“I’m, uh, I’m going to tell Shinsuke tomorrow.” You say, Shinsuke’s name foreign on your tongue compared to the warmth and honey that Rintarou’s tastes like. I’m in love with you and this is a bad idea, you think. I like you, not Kita, is what you don’t say. Instead, and arguably worse, is the mention of Miya Atsumu’s name. “Atsumu gave me the confidence to confess!” 

Suna pauses. 

“Atsumu told you to?” He asks, and it’s the most bewildered you’ve heard him in a while.

A glance at his phone. Hands that emerge from his pockets. If you weren’t so preoccupied with the concrete you would have seen the twitch of his fingers and the tightening of his jaw as he opens Line. You nod dimly. 

“Okay,” is what he says, and you feel your heart in your stomach again. You look up. “Okay.” He repeats again. 

And maybe it’s the hurt that stings in your chest from Rintarou being so okay with you (hypothetically) being in love with Kita Shinsuke that pushes your eyes to water and your mouth to open. 

“Is that it?” You ask. 

A beat of silence. And then, a scoff. 

“Yeah. Congratulations,” Suna says. “Good luck.” 

As dusk turns to nightfall and what was a barely-humid night in July is now overwhelmingly warm and sickly and hot, Rintarou’s gaze is overbearing. And when your eyes start to swim and Suna’s gaze turns to confusion and then realization, you do the only thing you know how to do. You bolt. 

An incessant string of dings. Your lip wobbles under your teeth as you pull out your phone from under your covers. 

from: miya osamu (21:03)  where the fuck did ya go  and whys suna blwoin up my phone

from: amazing perfect miya atsexy (21:03)  WHYYSS SUNARIN BLOWING UOA PP MY PHONE ??!?@@>>!?>??!??! WHYS HE SAYIN U LIKE KITA-SAN

from: you (21:05) its so over i ran home

from: you (21:05)  i told him i like shinsuke and that i am confessing to kita  tomorrow

amazing perfect miya atsexy and miya osamu are typing…

from: amazing perfect miya atsexy (21:06)  WHAT

from: miya osamu (21:06) r u fuckin stupid why would ya do that

from: you (21:07) i heard shinsuke tell aran that suna confessed to someone today and then rin came back so i told him i like kita bcuz i panicked and also he cant know i like him right as he’s ginna get BAGGED wait but idk if he got rejected or not WHO AM I KIDDING suna would NOT get rejected LOLOL but anyways i think he knows i like him bcuz i started cryig and then he had this look on his face like he knew i was bullshittin him now venmo me money before i kil msyelf 

from: miya osamu (21:12) yeah he was gonna confess to YOU today

from: you (21:12) ?

from: amazing perfect miya atsexy (21:12) HOLY MISCOMMUNICATION

from: you (21:18) Wht??

from: miya osamu (21:19) suna was supposed to confess to u today 

from: you (21:21) but shinsuke said rin already confessed

from: amazing perfect miya atsexy (21:22) why wiud u ever think about takin gossip from KITA SHINSUKE AN WHYD YA BRING ME UP IM GNNA BE STONED AT DAWN

from: miya osamu (21:22) HOORAY !

from: amazing perfect miya atsexy (21:22) SHUDDUP  

You bolt, again, but this time it’s out of your bed, down a flight of stairs, and through your front door. You’re halfway down the street near the Family Mart with the Good Sausages™ when you barrell into someone who smells faintly of blackberries and Suna’s laundry detergent. 

“Excuse me,” You blurt, scrambling away, until you feel a grip on your waist and a familiar shape behind you with a familiar smell and a familiar voice, and Ohmygod, you’re out of breath and close to frantic but Suna Rintarou is holding you steady by your waist, warm and tall and here. 

“Rintar-”

“I like you.”

You feel it more than you hear it- Suna is muffled and quiet as he mumbles into the back of your shoulder, tall frame folded into you. 

“Idiot.” He adds, and you don’t have to turn to know the tips of his ears are pink and his eyebrows are furrowed. “You’re an idiot.” 

It’s twilight, and just-barely humid when you realize that Suna Rintarou knows you. 

Suna knows that you ramble when you’re nervous. He knows that you like the rain and you don’t like humidity. You carry extra lead in your pencil pouch and you like volleyball and stray cats. You can bite into your ice cream. You color coordinate your bookshelves. You don’t have a crush on Kita Shinsuke. 

You don’t know that Suna keeps his digital camera with the shitty cracks because you bought it for him from a shop in Akihabara. You don’t know that Suna leaves his packs of pencil lead at home because leaning over your desk in class and seeing that smile on your face is far more fun. You don’t know that he writes with extra pressure on his worksheets to crack his lead and ask for more. 

You didn’t know that Suna Rintarou is in love with you. 

So he grins into your shoulder and tells you.  

amazing perfect miya atsexy (22:14) 1 Attachment GROSS!!!!!! do NOT start making out at practice or i will RESIGN !!!

sunarin (22:14) @ y/n lets start making out at practice

y/n, miya osamu, and 2 others reacted with Thumbs Up! ojiro aran, amazing perfect miya atsexy reacted with Thumbs Down!

from: amazing perfect miya atsexy (22:15)  @ KITA SHINSUKE @ KITA SHINSUKE @ KITA SHINSUKE @ KITA SHINSUKE 

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you could only gulp in response.

then, he’s rising above you, broad, muscular shoulders boxing you in as he settles between your thighs. the heavy heat of his dick presses against your sensitive, aching entrance, his incandescent gaze dragging over your face like he’s trying to memorize every expression, every shaky inhale.

mapping out your features in his mind with perfect, painful precision.

the realization that had struck him back at the temple as he looked at every mural, every worn painting and towering statue of the air nomads. they all looked like his people. familiar faces, familiar smiles, familiar eyes, familiar powers.

but none of them resembled you.

none carried the curve of your lashes or the little furrow in your brow when you worried. none had your laugh, the unique slope of your nose, your warmth, your favor for sour over sweet, your gentleness for children and particular bugs. and suddenly, the grief that sat in his chest for years changed shape entirely. because what would be the point of preserving the world he lost if, in doing so, he lost every trace of the person he loved most within it?

“this—this isn’t about me reviving airbenders or a duty to save my dying culture. this isn’t about avatar sonam or tagah or monk gyatso or anything that has to do with bending. this is about you and me and me wanting to start a family with you,” he states with that heavy, solid avatar voice of his. firm and sure, thumb brushing along your jaw, “this is about me making sure that a part of you will always exist in a world where the avatar exists. that your lips, your eyes, your soul. . . live on for eternity. so that every time i look into this world through the eyes of the new avatar, i can still see you. see you in our grandchildren, in our great-great grandchildren, in the people that will come to exist because we loved each other. . . to know that you’ll always be in my life someway, somehow.”

“aang. . .”

“i realize now that there will come a day when airbending returns, whether in our lifetime or long after we’re gone.” he presses his forehead against yours, tone softer despite the ache in his words. “i know that i’ll get to see that vision through the eyes of the avatars who will come after me. and if i keep chasing impossible answers, impossible resolves— if i keep throwing myself at a future i can’t force into existence— i’ll lose you in the process. i’ll waste the little time we’re given together. with our friends. with our children. the thought of losing you to time. . .”

it killed him.

you feel it. the shift in him. the sincerity behind every broken word, every trembling breath. the sheer despair that claws through him at the thought of you leaving nothing behind of yourself, of the love the two of you share. the regret he’d forever live with if he only prioritized the revival of air-bending or the kids that would inherit it. and the fact that he still hasn’t left the avatar state only makes it worse, every emotion stripped raw and vulnerable beneath glowing eyes and tattoos and shaking hands.

“so i vow now that i will never neglect your life or your culture for the sake of mine. whether we have airbending children or not. . . that is up to the universe.”

his hands cup your cheeks gently as he leans in, drawing you into a slow, sloppy kiss. you could only gasp softly when his tongue slips past your lips, kissing you like he’s trying to seal his fate with yours.

he slowly pulls away, thick fingers easing you open as he makes room for himself. “i can live without other airbenders. i can make due with the acolyte family we’ve founded. what i cannot live without is you. what i cannot imagine not ingrained in this world beyond my lifetime is you.”

aang smiles for the first time tonight, like the image in his mind was far more beautiful than anything he could’ve ever imagined. he sinks inside, massive and overwhelming, drawing a raspy breath from your lungs at the sheer stretch of him. still, you pull him closer, wanting nothing more than to feel the slow, heavy drag of him inside you.

“so for now,” he whispers, breath warm against your lips as he begins moving slowly, in and out, “all i want is a child with you. one that embodies everything that you are. one that will carry on your memory, your curiosity, your strength, your traits.” gone was the glow of the avatar state, the white fading slowly from his eyes until they were simply his again, fixed on yours with a tenderness so deep it was almost unbearable. “so i’m begging you. . . give me a baby that looks just like you.”

you cry out helplessly as he buries his face into your throat, holding you impossibly close. every stroke is long and deliberate, driven far less by hunger and more by an emotion too large for words. the slick of your arousal coats his balls as you helplessly grind against him, cunt fluttering around the girthiness of his base. you could feel all the veins that line him, tracing your walls as he fucked you like he needed you to breathe.

you blink back the tears threatening to spill. “b-but i do want our baby to be like you. i do want to help you—”

he shakes his head fervently, fingers tightening around you like he’s afraid you still don’t understand. “no. no,” he rasps, “i don’t want this to be some duty you carry for me. i want this because it’s us. because it’s the life we chose together. no obligations. no sacrifices.”

you feel the dampness at the corner of his eyes as he clings to you, hands roaming your body in a worship-like trance, as though he was reassuring himself that you were real and here and present and his. to have and to hold and to sink himself into when the world is in chaos.

“please,” he croaks hoarsely into your neck, voice cracking around the word, and the raw vulnerability in it makes your chest ache more than anything else ever could. “say you’ll give me a baby, sweetheart. say you’ll give me this one thing. even if they come without air-bending.”

a broken sound leaves your throat as you cling to his shoulders, nodding desperately against him, back arching into his warmth. “yes,” you breathe out shakily, fingers curling around his nape. “yes, yes, yes. of course, i will.”

the words—your defining proclamation—undo him entirely. he groans into the curve of your neck, holding you so tightly it almost hurts, every breath hot, cold, then hot again against your skin. he cums in thick, long spurts, coating your insides pearly white as you cream on his cock, legs caging him in. his tattoos begin to faintly glow once more as he shivers, hips still pumping his seed into you, forehead pressed beneath your jaw, as though he can’t bear even an inch of distance between you.

when he finally pulls back, his eyes have returned to their natural state, shining with something far softer than desire.

devotion, perhaps. a need to always keep you safe. to give you—and your children—a world that offers everything and takes nothing in return.

“i love you,” he murmurs softly, brushing the damp strands of your hair from your face. he rests his forehead against yours again, eyes slipping closed as his heart, for once, is at ease. “thank you.”

your lips tremble into a tired smile, fingers curling weakly around his head. “you never have to thank me for loving you.”

though your words alone could never truly capture the depth of everything you’ve given him.

content: MDNI. smut. g!p toph. english, author suck. 2nd person pov. lowercase for estetik. mix but mainly toph's perspective of you. f!nger!ng, r!receiving. creamp1e. wrap it before you tap it, hoes. breed1ng k1nk, as per usual. tu₥₥y bulge. c0ckdrunk reader. short asf. self-indulgent. part 1 of ?. unfit, non-bender reader. her body is ambiguous. edg1ngg. overst1mulat!on. toph is kinda possessive? if you squint. she's kinda mean lol but she loses her mind really. also, reader may have reached subspace. heavy inspo from daddy tonycries :pp. THIS IS NOT SCIENTIFICALLY ACCURATE. but if this is how i'm going to get my exercise, yall gonna catch me with the biggest muscles lol.

a/n: read someone's post about small lettering so i apologize for my previous posts being like that lol. as a girly with -6.00 prescription, i will now be avoiding it in the actual body of my fics TvT. also, i'm so torn between my drafts that's why it's taking so long to post anything grahhh. +luteal phase suggs ass.

compared to your hunk of a really pretty girlfriend—you really were pretty out of shape. one lap around her metalbending academy gets you almost passing out. it's something that you genuinely wanted to work on. and so, toph beifong’s solution?

was to fuck you until you're fit.

“ahh—hah,” you gasp as toph feels your walls flutter around her fingers. 

you feel, sound, and smell so good right now that it's unbearable for her rock-hard cock. she's been prepping you for a few minutes, but you're still so tight despite the slick dripping down her hand. your back arches as her fingertips prod at that rough patch on the front of your walls, “not there—toph please—”

she chuckles in your sweat-slicked neck, her left arm around your waist tightening as she pins you down to keep you from squirming out and from her touch. your hands despairingly clutch her shoulders, legs around her waist. your fingernails dig into her skin, giving her pleasure within the pain and sting. 

“said you can't cum yet, so don't, ‘m sure you can do it yourself?” she mumbles as she laves her tongue all over your warm, salty skin. 

she feels you shake your head as you cry out, “can't hold it—toph—”

“ya got this, mama, be good for me?” she shifts so she can say it right to your ear before licking your lobe. she feels you shudder, you must be feeling so much right now. she only smiles at the thought, before nibbling on your ear, leaving bite marks at her wake. she starts to scissor her fingers open to get you to open up, and you sob. 

“nghhh—ha, please—gonna cum—” 

did you just completely ignore her praise—? the approach does not seem to work, and toph changes her strategy.

“you're better than that, it's either this or you start training with my students,” the threat shuts you up as you bite your lower lip near to bleeding. you feel tears prickle and accumulate from the sheer effort not to come.

“yeah, that's it, cry, you must look so good right now,” she groans, imagining just how much pleasure your face is making. so skilled in the knowledge of your body. the thought that it's her breaking your composure apart goes straight to her weeping cock. 

she angles her hand against your g-spot even better and she feels the muscles of your walls react with more clenching, your legs desperately shifting around her waist from the stimulation. her fingers glide in and out smoothly, your slick making everything slippery, she feels her calloused fingertips start to wrinkle from the sheer wetness. the squelch!—ing sounds amplifying with every back and forth pass through your quivering hole. so welcoming and practically sucking her fingers in with such eagerness that it makes her want to stuff you full of her length already. to feel you come around her cock and for her seed to fill you up. to knock you up properly. give her more earthbenders to train.

the filthy thoughts have her moaning lowly in your damp hair, her exhales warm. 

you start to sniffle, and it only makes her feel hotter and flushed. she gives a particularly harsh thrust at your sensitive spot, her thumb finally making contact with your throbbing, neglected clit. it makes you gasp and squeak, “aaah—nghh—please…” 

your walls start to quiver faster and the orgasm you’ve been staving off start to get unbearable and uncontrollable, “‘m gonna cum—gonna cum—gonna cum—” she feels your control start to slip as your back arches again, your head rolling back, saliva dripping at the edge of your lips, thighs starting to shake around her waist. and she stops moving, only putting light pressure at that bundle of sensitive nerves inside of your cunt.

“no—” you cry out, tears overspilling and trailing down your temple. your pussy’s fluttering doesn’t reach its climax and start to weaken. you hiccup as you try to breathe through it, trying to relax your bowed back.

toph could cum right then and there, her nose traces your cheek until she finds your tear streaked skin, and she laps at it, tasting its salt against your already salty, sweat-slicked skin, and her hums vibrate through your flesh, enjoying the taste of whatever you excrete. 

she takes a deep breath before finding your lips and shoving her tongue in your mouth, making you taste your sweat and tears. it makes you even dizzier, already feeling the fatigue rack through your weak body as you take stuttering breaths after crying. you feel overstimulated, the lack of oxygen intensifying everything. toph pretty much shoves her tongue down your throat before sucking on your tongue and licking up the saliva at the edge of your lips that escaped the make out. she lays her mouth off of you, and starts to trail bites down your jaw, to your neck to your collarbones and down to your right tit, sucking at your areola and giving the underside of your boob a soft bite. the pain makes you whimper. 

every single sound from you feeds her own arousal. her tip twitching and releasing pre continuously against your hipbone gently gliding to the side of your belly, excited to be buried home in your hot and tightly clenching walls. 

she starts to move her hand again and it makes you whine, protesting against the overwhelming pleasure at every ministration from her, “too much—please—”

“we barely even started. unless you prefer waking up and running with my students tomorrow?”

“mm-mmh,” the objection leaves you close-mouthed, head shaking at the suggestion your girlfriend just gave you.

“mhm, thought so… my girlfriend will not be caught unfit and a bum,” she smiles against your skin before giving your neck a harsh bite with a punctuating thrust in you. you’re so soft she can just bite you everywhere.

all fight leaves your body as you let her have her way, sobbing every few seconds. but ultimately, you shut up as you focus on not cumming instead. more tears fill your eyes as the coil in your core tightens up again. your silence continues, all your efforts now put into ignoring her taunts and not cumming to get this over with. you haven't even reached a single high yet.

“that’s it? no more fight? you're no fun,” she tilts her head as she listens to your thumping heartbeat and drawing breaths. voice broken so good. pitchy, whiny. just the way she likes it. 

“you’re a bully…” you sniffle, feeling the unfairness of the situation. your lover can be really mean sometimes.

“oh, but you love it, don’tcha?” she goads, her movements alternate between simply circling your g-spot and then striking it. her thumb hovering and barely rubbing your clit, and every time she applies pressure on it lightly, it gives a jolt that makes you sob and whine. 

you shake your head, and she only amps up the stimulation. it makes you squirm in her hold, your walls clenching down desperately. toph tightens her hold on you and suddenly stops moving her hand, “fine, i'm getting off,” she smirks. but you haven't cummed yet. 

so you protest—again, tightening your arms around her neck and whine straight in her ear, scrambling to keep her with you, “no—no—no, i'm sorry, i’ll be good—i’ll be good—i promise,” you practically sob, your heart rate increasing from the thought of being left high-strung. it will make you tired tomorrow but the sexual frustration would be worse.

“but you said you didn't love it,” her voice gets teasing again, whining like your objection hurts her. 

you let out another sniffle, “‘m sorry, i love it, i love you—” your voice reaches that wet, wavering, and pleading register, the one that means you're truly at your wits’ end. and it heightens her need to bury herself until she can feel a bulge under your taut skin, full of her cum and her cock. 

she resumes immediately, the need far too unbearable. she's just a woman, after all. you feel a different kind of coiling inside, and you just know that it's going to be a powerful crest, you try to warn her, “t—toph—g’nna squirt—ah—”

“then squirt,” you body seizes up as she gives one more powerful thrust in your slick cavern. you arch your spine, your head rolling back onto the pillow, jaw unhinging in a silent scream, hips gyrating to meet her thrusts and welcome your orgasm. waves of pleasure wash through your body from the center point of your convulsing pussy. your textured walls squeeze around her fingers in quick intervals, your release gushing out and spilling slick all over her hand and hips. her left arm goes a bit slack around you to let you fuck yourself and through your high on her fingers. 

toph groans, feeling all the wetness get released out of your pretty cunt, “that's it, sooo wet—good girl.”

she kisses you again, finding your jaw slack. and she groans and moans with you, swallowing your noises, your cute and quivering whimpers, your sobs and whines from the overstimulation. by the time your walls start to cease their powerful clenching, the space between you and toph is soaked. some had trailed and splashed onto your navel. she gives your pussy a few more caresses and she leaves your entrance with a resounding pop! your walls clinging onto her fingers still. 

she gives your tongue another suck before she brings her wet fingers to her mouth, savouring your release. eating you out will come later. she proceeds to tighten her hold on you and bury her face in your neck again, inhaling you. inhaling the mix of your scents off of your clammy skin. 

still wet, the same hand now holds onto your hip, pushing you down as she shifts her position to settle her angry head on your wet, still quivering entrance. pussy lips raw and swollen and sodden.

your breathing is still stuttering, your body finally calming down from the powerful orgasm you just went though. you blink your eyes clear of tears before looking down on toph. her back muscles defined against the candlelight and moonlight, her put up but now disheveled hair the only thing you can see as she nuzzles your neck. she really has a thing for your scent. 

“you there?” she asks as she listens to your heartbeat finally turn somewhat regular, your breathing stabilizing itself as much as it can. she can still feel and sense your muscles spasming and seizing up. 

“mhm…” you hum half-heartedly, you still feel your body floating. the tips of your extremities buzzing. you tighten your hold on her to ground yourself somehow. 

she digs her nose deeper in your skin, “mmm, you're going to have the fittest pussy after this,” she smiles, snickering lightly. 

her hips start to rut to rub her rotund tip up and down your pussy lips, gathering up your slick and wetness all over. the very tip of her leaking head catching on the hood of your clit, making you both moan. she can hear how absent-minded you've gotten, you're definitely still floating. but it means you're letting go of your reservations. 

she closes her unseeing eyes to prepare, but it always has her breathless when your warm and tight pussy welcomes her. the tight ring of muscle flutters around her tip before giving way, and after a bit of resistance, she feels her head pop in, and a small thrust gets her slipping and sliding her way up to the hilt. her mushroom head passes by and presses up to your g-spot. her cockhead nudging your cervix once fully seated. her tight and full balls slapping your ass. and when she shifts her right hand to palm against your navel, there she is. home.

exercise and all, this gives her a different sense of pride. and love. like you're made for her. and no one else can fit her so well. only you can get the chief of rcpd and master of earthbending suggest fucking as a way to get yourself some muscles. like she can just fuck her muscles to you, kek. it gets her delirious with how much you trust her. and it gives her another wave of pleasure. she can practically snap you in half. oh, spirits, you're perfect.

it only registers to her that she's been moving inside you while deep in her thoughts. her hips thrusting as if there's no tomorrow. your legs tight around her. your noises are slurred and you're definitely drooling. she bets your eyes are crossed right now. how did she even know that's a thing? well, she's not ignorant when it comes to your pleasure.

your insides are so warm, and tight. and soft. and squishy. and so fillable. it almost makes her emotional just how welcoming your cunt is. practically shaped to her cock. she groans, her pace stuttering as your walls clench around her. 

exercise? without her? how could you even suggest such a thing? she remembers what started this. how you had said you wanted to have your own exercise routine. outside of hers. no fucking way. rejecting her suggestions to help you. and you had argued she's far too busy to become your trainer. you had pouted, saying you're a grown woman with your own life. but immediately gave in when she started to kiss you silly. no other being should ever lay their eyes on you while you're sweaty and breathing hard and probably so fucking delectable— 

her hips start to move faster, not liking the fact that anyone would ever lay their eyes on you while you're gasping for air from fatigue, the way you are right now. before she forces herself to instead get lost in you. see how far she can take you. 

“ssso good– mghaah—tophhh, hah, so deep—” your right hand slips from her neck, and you absent-mindedly press down on your bulging tummy on top of her hand, making toph groan and heave in your neck. 

“yeah—i know mama, only cock that can get you like this, huh?”

you nod enthusiastically, completely cockdrunk and high, “mhm—mhm—ah—loveee it,” and toph uselessly shuts her eyes to fully immerse herself. the way her thick length enters you and leaves until only her head is inside and then shoving herself back in, sliding against your g-spot after every thrust that fills you to the brim. her weeping head leaving trails of white inside, making everything more slippery and noisy. your walls cling to her, not wanting her off and she loves the dragging feeling it gives.

“ya love it so much, let's make you a real mama?”

she asks, barely keeping herself together at every little flutter your walls give her. almost forgetting the main goal was to get you fit with her cock. not pregnant.

but then you agree so eagerly, “yes—yes—wan’ your babies, toph, wan’ it—”

“fu—uck!” and then she's cumming, her balls tightening as she feels her seed burst through her tip and paint your insides with it. the filthy noise becoming filthier, now more wet. she forces her hips to continue moving, to get you to another high. and you do so with a gasp. your walls clench so hard she almost can't fuck you through it. her cock spurting more when she feels you clamp and convulse around her. 

“nghh—toph—so much,” you moan out, and she makes it her personal goal to keep all of her release inside you, pushing her hips flushed against your pelvis. 

“fuck—make it take—take it—gonna make you a mama—” she groans grinding her cock inside of you to lengthen your high. the thought of you pregnant and swollen with her babies makes her shudder and spurt another weak burst of seed.

goal reached: you got your cardio, and she gets to fill you up.

.

.

.

you wake up the next morning sore and as you try to get up, you hear toph's morning, teasing voice next to you, “awww, tired?”

“i’m going to ban you from our bed.”

They've gotten so much bigger now, defined muscles flexing with every movement, straining and bulging as she does things. She's caught you staring a few times, practically salivating, your eyes glued to her exposed skin.

Each time she notices, you look away so fast she's surprised you haven't gotten whiplash yet, face on fire as you look anywhere but her, desperately avoiding her puzzled gaze.

And to make matters worse, she's started wearing these tight, black tops, ones with no sleeves, ones that leave her arms completely on display for you.

All. The. Time.

It reaches a point where you just can't take it anymore, you can't sit around watching her exist when she looks that good. When her arms look that perfect and that delicious, just waiting to be bitten. So you decide to do something about it.

The slam of the front door being shut lets you know that Maki's home, and you slip out of bed to go find her. She's been working harder missions recently, coming back later and later, normally finding you tucked into bed by the time she gets home.

Tonight, you're dressed the same as you usually are, one of Maki's old, oversized T-shirts draped over your frame. You creep into the living room searching for her, feet padding softly across the floor, one hand coming up to rub the sleep from your eyes.

You find Maki sprawled on the sofa, arms stretched across the back, head tipped back and eyes shut as she sighs from exhaustion. She doesn't notice when you enter the room, her eyes only fluttering open when you're standing in front of her, hands bracing on her shoulders as you straddle her thigh, one of your legs slotting in between hers.

"I missed you," you whisper, not wanting to shatter the peace of the moment.

You press closer when Maki's hands come to rest on your hips, strong arms flexing as her hands squeeze. She exhales, long and slow, like seeing you has instantly drained all the tension from her body. "Missed you more."

You lean in, breath ghosting over her lips, your arms wrapping around her neck. Maki sighs into the kiss, pulling you closer until your bodies are flush. When you pull back, her lips instinctively chase yours, but you don't let her reach you, leaning back and giggling when she growls in frustration.

Your forehead presses against hers, lips barely brushing, breathing each other in. Just as Maki tilts her head to kiss you again, you lean away and press your lips to her shoulder instead, over the material of her top. As usual, she's wearing one of her tight, sleeveless tops, your mouth practically watering as your eyes greedily drink in all of that smooth, defined skin on display. Your thighs clench together, something she definitely feels from where hers is sandwiched in between yours.

She looks at you in surprise, not expecting the sudden move. Your gaze flicks up to meet Maki's, a soft smile on your face as you look up at her, pressing a kiss to her jaw before ducking back down again. You lift her right arm slightly, bringing it closer to your face. Maki lets you move her as you please, mouth tilted in a confused smile as she peers down at you.

The first press of your lips against her skin has her letting out a soft sigh, her free hand resting on your waist, keeping you steady.

"What're you doing, sweetheart?" she questions, arm twitching as you run your lips over her scarred skin.

"Nothing…" Your eyes flick up to meet hers, mock innocence painted over your face before you sink your teeth into her arm.

"The fuck—" Maki hisses and tries to yank her arm away, but your hold doesn't loosen, not letting her pull back. When you release her, you lean back a little to admire the mark you've made, a perfect imprint from your teeth left, purpling around the edges.

"Sorry," you smile sweetly up at her, and for a second she almost believes your act, almost, "your arms just look so good."

"Fuck," she groans, gasping when she feels you grind against her thigh, a tiny movement so subtle you thought she wouldn't notice. But she does, Maki always does.

You've completely soaked through your panties at this point, clit throbbing as you continue to lavish her arm with attention. She smirks at you, her free hand gripping your hip tightly and pulling you harder against her thigh as she tenses it, bouncing her leg a little.

Your nails dig into her skin and you cry out, your needy cunt desperately searching for friction. Maki can tell you’re getting close, so she uses her grip on your hip to still your movements, kissing you softly when you whine in protest.

She lifts her arm, flexing it for you, smirking as your breath hitches and your jaw drops. Her bicep is covered in hickeys, bite marks littered all over her skin. She squeezes your hip to bring your attention back to her face, and you shudder at the dangerous glint in her eyes.