Long-life-sarcasm

Toji was a good owner, the best one you could ever ask for, really. He had adopted you just a few years ago, unconventional in the way he seems to be about the most random things. He was working some job, and your previous owner was neglectful at best and plain ole shitty at worst. Toji had put a bullet in his head without much fanfare, before turning to you, huddled in the corner, shaking all over, afraid that you would be next. But he simply eyed you up and down before shrugging, and asking you gruffly, 

“Wanna come home with me? My kid has a pup, and he’s been badgering me about getting my own…” he trails off, unsure sure of what to call you. Pet? Companion? He was never too sure about you hybrids, what you might take offense to. You only blink big, rounded, wet eyes at him for a few beats before you find your voice. 

“Bunny?” You ask in lieu of all of the other choices going through his head. Toji just pauses for a second before shrugging once more and nodding, as he extends a hand out for you to take. 

“Yeah, sure.” And that was the end of that. You were afraid that you were simply just going from the frying pan to the flame, but Toji wasn’t like your old owner. He was kind, in his own gruff, jilted way. He spoiled you whenever he got paid from his odd jobs, or the very rare times his betting would actually get him more than an attitude about the debts he owed. He let you have your own autonomy, something you never had much control over, and let you make your own decisions about your life. 

It was…new, but nice. Being a prey hybrid, you still let him have most control over the little things, comfortable enough with him to lay down and bare your belly. You trusted Toji and his decisions. However, the only thing you didn’t really trust was—

“Sukuna is coming over in a few,” Toji tells you softly. You’re laid against him on the couch, your feet curled beneath you, arms wrapped around his thick middle as he scratches in between your lopped ears. They twitch at the sound of his name, and you frown, burrowing deeper into Toji’s side as you inhale his scent; manly, in the way human men are, without being entirely woodsy, a hint of something musky that you can’t stop yourself from inhaling even deeper.  

“Why?” You whine out, grumbling under your breath when Toji stops scratching between your ears to cup your nape, gently guiding you away from his side. He’s not smiling, per se, but there’s almost a hint of amusement on his face. It makes you frown deeper, which in turn, makes it harder for him to stomp down his curling smile. He doesn’t say anything for a few moments, just taking in the pout of your lips, the pink of your nose. He leans forward to nibble gently on your cheek, and you can’t help but soften ever so slightly. 

“What’s it about Sukuna that makes you so huffy?” Toji asks softly, nosing the roundness of your cheek, rubbing his skin against yours. Oh, the asshole, knowing all of the things that make you weak to him. It takes you a few seconds to gather your composure, before you’re halfheartedly batting him away. He only chuckles at your antics, grabbing your hands in his own before pressing featherlight kisses to your palm. 

“He’s a big, stinky predator,” you grouse, fully clambering into Toji’s lap, thighs spread over his own as you plop yourself down. Toji hums softly, rubbing the thick skin of his hands over your flank, smiling softly when you squirm, ticklish. 

“Yuuji’s a predator, too, and you like your playdates with him.” Toji reminds you, nodding his head to where you and Yuuji just were not too long ago, tangled up in a play wrestling fight on the living room carpet as Megumi and Toji shook both of their heads at you guys’ antics. You feel your face warm at the memory, at how quickly Yuuji had mounted you when he smelled just the slightest hint of arousal on your skin. You couldn’t help it! He was so strong and always knew when to calm down, when to be gentle, when to let you win; you couldn’t help the way your eyes had glazed over, how your bunnycunt spasmed around nothing. 

“Yeah, but Sukuna is different. He’s mean and big and stinky.” You grumble, nosing your way to Toji’s neck, his scent glands subtle and soft, barely there, as most humans were. But you loved digging your pink nose into his flesh as far as you could, just to inhale that slight musk. He rubs softly at the roundness of your ass, teasing the tips of his fingers over the fluff of your tail, feeling you arch back into his touch. 

“Is he really stinky,” Toji questions as his hands run lower down your tail, just grazing where fluff meets skin. “Or do you just not like ‘em because he scares you?” He speaks the words against your temple, feeling the rumble of his chest against your own sensitive one. Everything about you is sensitive, when it comes to Toji. You can’t help the full body shiver that wracks you, before his words register and you’re straightening yourself up in his lap. 

“He doesn’t scare me.” You huff, sitting back and crossing your arms over your chest. You try to appear unshaken, even though the very thought of that damn predator looming above you sends just the tiniest spark of fear through your belly. “He’s just…intense. A different kind of predator than Yuuji, you know?” 

Even though they were uncle and nephew, Sukuna was apart of the feline family, some big tiger hybrid whereas Yuuji was a canine, a big dumb slobbering pup, as Sukuna loved to refer to him as. Toji had once told you that there was a bunch of backlash bullshit when Sukuna was young, because of how different he was from his own family; greedier, meaner, bloodthirsty. He still hung around when he wanted to, mainly just to torture his nephew in his own, less violent way. 

“Plus, Yuuji is still pretty young, so he’s sweet about everything.” You tack on, wrinkling your nose when Toji tries to goad you into nosing against his skin once more. “Sukuna is old and grumpy and mean, like you.” 

“Watch it, bunny.” Toji grumbles, but there’s no bite in his voice. He just pinches the under curve of your ass gently between thick fingers, laughing when you squeak and hop ever so slightly from his lap. Before you can chide him, however, the doorbell rings, followed by a heavy knock that bangs against the front door. 

“Open up, old man,” you hear the deep grumble of Sukuna’s voice, entire body instantly locking up. “I ain’t got all day.” 

Toji grumbles under his breath about how Sukuna is older than him, but begins to get up either way. You’re still in his lap, sliding off when he stands, although he doesn’t mind much carrying you around whenever you demand it like the spoiled little thing he’s made you. Toji takes note of the way you frown, curling your arms across your body, suddenly aware of the revealing nature of your pajamas. It was a set Toji had picked out; soft and fluffy, breathable for the stuffy summer air, your legs exposed, something Sukuna always seemed to stare at for a beat too long at whenever he came over. You wonder if Toji planned this all along, the bastard. 

“Can you be the good, sweet little bunny that I know you are for me?” He asks softly, thumbing at the underside of your ears, watching how your eyes flutter at the contact, as you lean into his touch. 

“Tell that to him,” you grumble, shaking all over when Sukuna pounds against the door once more. Toji only grins at you, half feral himself. 

“You know there isn’t a good bone in his body.” 

And that does nothing to calm your nerves. You only watch from around the corner as Toji turns on his heel, shouting back at Sukuna from behind the door to shut his damn mouth before he cooks up tiger meat for dinner. You can’t help the giggle that escapes you, mouth cinching tight when Toji swings the door open and you’re greeted to Sukuna’s scowling face. Somehow, always, his eyes find you in seconds, peeking around the curve of the wall. The retort dies on his lips as he grins at the sight of you, dapping up Toji before he’s let into the house. 

Its hard to move, to breathe even, whenever there is a predator such as Sukuna in the only place that you can call safe. He carries himself with so much grace, entirely too smooth and quiet for a being of his size. He stands taller than Toji, thicker, somehow, too. His eyes glow a blood-like crimson, always narrowed onto you, laser focused no matter where you are or where you go. His canines seem to be bigger than your head, the thick black stripes on his face intimidating, his claws long enough to slice through your soft underbelly with just a single swipe. 

And yet he looks at you as if he wants to devour you—just not in the way that you fear from most predators. 

You dart back to the couch before he can get any closer, seating yourself on the very far end in the corner. You tuck your feet beneath you, ears draped so that they cover most of your face as you pretend to watch TV, despite already having being spotted by the predator. 

They round the corner talking, before Toji breaks off to go into the kitchen to get them both beers. You’re left with Sukuna, who stands on the opposite side of the room, staring at you with watchful eyes, a half grin spreading across his face as he tilts his nose to the air and sniffs. You’re sure you’re bleeding fear into the entirety of the room, and yet you never look at him, hyper focused on a commercial you’ve seen one too many times now. 

Toji comes back just seconds later, pressing a beer to the hybrids chest before he’s making his way over to you, scooping you and plopping himself down to situate you on his lap. Sukuna falls into the cushions beside you, cracking open his beer with sharp teeth before taking a few sips, swallowing loudly. You can’t help but watch the way his throat bobs, the way his claws curl around the glass, scratching it ever so slightly. He catches your eye and grins when you avert your gaze once more, picking at invisible lint on Toji’s sweats. 

“You haven’t taught your bunny any manners since the last time I saw ya?” Sukuna suddenly grouses, shifting in his seat so that he’s facing the both of you now. You frown, glaring at him from the safety of Toji’s lap as you curl around him even further. Sukuna speaks as if you aren’t there, and yet he hasn’t taken his eyes off of you yet, either. Toji only chuckles, patting your ass gently as he sips at his beer with the other hand. 

“Bunny speaks when spoken to,” Toji shrugs, placing the lip of the bottle against his chin as he grins sneakily. “Unless its your nephew. Then I can’t get bunny quiet, or off of him.” 

Its a low blow, and all three of you know it. Your sudden braveness to glare at Sukuna melds away as he returns your glare tenfold. Blood red eyes narrow at you, slowly raking down your body, to your exposed shoulders in you tank, the softness of your legs as you try, and fail, to further curl them in Toji’s lap. 

The problem, at least you believe, has always been how comfortable you are with Yuuji, rather than with Sukuna. You were polar opposites whenever the two came around, and you couldn’t help but notice the way Sukuna’s lip seemed to curl up when you greeted him with a terrified hello versus how you damn near jumped on Yuuji when he entered the room. He figured it was because he was a predator, an unnaturally large one at that, but you never seemed to have any problems with Yuuji, or any other predator Toji or Megumi would bring around. 

So, obviously, he deduced that the problem was with him. And that made Sukuna want you more; to make you talk to him, to make you jump on him like you always did Yuuji, to pin you beneath his claws and taste the scent of your fear mixed with your arousal permeating the air. He wanted to consume every bit of you the more you cowered away from him. 

“Is that why you stink of that damn brat?” Sukuna asks, although his tone holds less malice than you would have expected. He sips at his beer, turning to the TV as Toji flips between channels carelessly. You frown, holding onto the arm that holds his beer, trying to make Toji wrap himself around you once more, but he only kisses between your ears before focusing back on the screen. 

“He was on me; I wasn’t the one on him.” You spit back, even though your voice shakes and grows quieter with every word you speak. 

“Don’t be modest, little one, you know you pinned him quite a few times before he mounted you.” Toji cuts in, the shit starter. You glare at him, thumping your foot as hard as you can against his leg, despite your curled up position. He only chuckles under his breath before settling on something you two have already seen before. Sukuna glances at the TV before he’s cutting his eyes back to you, now turning to fully face you on the couch, his back leaning on the arm rest behind him as he takes one last swig of his beer before placing it on the coffee table. 

“And what reason, pray tell, would he have to mount you, bunny?” He asks, and you expect there to be irritation, anger, fueling his words, lacing his face. But when you look up at him from under your lashes, he’s grinning, almost as if he’s won something. Like he’s ready to claim some victory you didn’t know was being awarded. 

You both know why Yuuji mounted you earlier. He was a sweet thing, but old enough to know better, old enough to have had quite a few heats now, what desire and arousal tastes like, what an invitation might entail. You both know he wouldn’t have done it if you hadn’t given him even the slightest hint of permission. You both know how hard you must’ve clenched around nothing for him to think that you wanted something to fill you up. 

“C’mere, bunny.” Sukuna calls, his voice laced with finality. Your back straightens, ears perking up ever so slightly as your eyes widen. You look to Toji for help, but he only smiles at you, winking, the scar on his lips twitching as he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth. 

“You said you were gonna be a good bunny, didn’t you?” Toji asks softly, leaning forward to press his mouth to yours, gentle. You melt under his touch, sighing against his lips before he pulls back, his gaze heavy as he glances over your shoulder to the predator that awaits. He would never let anything bad happen to you, right? Right? 

With a gentle push of your ass, are you slowly sliding out of Toji’s lap. You pout at him, mouth the word mean, to which he only smiles before you’re turning to the tiger at the other end of the couch. He’s too big, you think. Too wide, his hands too clawed, his grin too sharp. He beckons you over with a crook of a thick digit, patting the space between his spread, muscular thighs. 

You’re barely in his space before he’s snatching you up by both of your upper arms, chuckling at the squeak of surprise you make. He deposits you in his lap, his thighs pressed under yours, solid and firm and so, so big. You can only blink up at him as he takes you in, crimson eyes assessing, narrowing, staring too long at the weakness of your jugular before his gaze roams further down. When he meets your eyes again, he says with so much conviction and certainty, you can’t help the gasp that escapes you: 

“I’m gonna give you a bath.” 

You whip your head toward Toji who only watches with half lidded eyes. He has sunk lower in his seat, his own thighs spread, and you can’t miss the telltale scent of his arousal in the air, the way the heaviness of his cock twitches against his thigh through his sweatpants. But Sukuna is mean, possessive, even with your owner sitting right there, and uses two thick fingers on your chin to make you face him once more. 

“Don’t look to him when I’m talking to you, prey,” he snarls, baring his teeth, making you freeze all over, heart thudding loudly in your chest. “I could rip out your throat the moment you even think about glancing away.” 

“Don’t scare bunny too bad, asshole,” Toji calls out, sipping at his beer once more as he turns to the TV, though you know he’s not really paying attention. “She’ll pee, and its a bitch to clean from the cushions.”  

You can only stare up at Sukuna with big, unblinking eyes, trembling all over as his lids lower at Toji’s words. He licks his lips, a nefarious smile edging at his mouth as you whimper at the feeling of something entirely too big twitching beneath you. 

“I’ll clean that up, too.” Before you can say anything, before you can move, can even think about trying to dive off of his lap, Sukuna is scruffing you, making your entire body go lax. It’s a shitty thing for him to do, knowing how it renders prey animals helpless, damn near puts you in a catatonic state until he releases you and your senses are flooding back. But you can only hang there limply in his grasp, breath picking up as he brings you close to his mouth, opening his maw wide, exposing every single sharp tooth that has every mean to tear you apart, piece by agonizing piece. 

But Sukuna holds his words true, as his tongue lolls from his mouth and licks a slow, scratchy path from the corner of your mouth, all the way to your temple. It’s…gross. You always giggled and cringed away whenever Yuuji would lick you in his excitement, but there’s something about the deliberate, slow drag of a scratchy tongue that makes the pit of your belly drop. 

Sukuna continues on his path, licking you from mouth to temple, the roundness of your cheeks, the curve of your nose. He licks at your ears, pulling, before starting from the base once more. He makes his way around to the other side, stopping at your mouth to lick at that, too. He doesn’t stop, squeezing ever so gently at your nape that he still holds captive, until your own mouth falls open. He licks inside gentle, but firm, his tongue too big for your little bunnymouth, bullies its thickness all around as he runs the tip of it over the bluntness of your teeth. You hiccup, fingers twitching at your sides as you can only sit there and let him explore, let him lick at your own tongue until it hurts, until the scratchiness makes you whimper. 

“Sukuna.” Toji warns quietly at your pathetic little sound. But the tiger hybrid only grumbles and growls, before finally pulling away from your mouth. There’s a thick line of saliva connecting you, splatters against your chin, your neck when he pulls away to make his way over to your other ear. 

He continues on bathing you, for what feels like forever. Pulls you back ever so slightly by your nape to lick at your neck, your clavicles, your shoulders and all the way down your arms. He licks around your fingers, nibbling ever so softly to hear you whimper out again, chuckling when Toji warns him again with a tut. He makes his way up and over to the other arm, giving it the same amount of slow, scratchy attention until your skin feels raw. 

And only then, do you think he’s finished when he finally releases your nape and lets your upper body fall back into Toji’s lap. Your breathing is heavy, and you feel weirdly violated, but that only is the tip of the iceberg, when Sukuna begins licking down your legs, too. You whine, blinking up at Toji, trying to turn in his lap, trying to hide your face in his stomach as Sukuna begins kitten licking the insides of your thighs, where Yuuji’s scent is most likely strongest. 

“Tojiii,” you mewl out, blinking big wet eyes at him when Sukuna begins to wordlessly pull your pajama bottoms down your legs. You know what he’s going to do next, where he’s going to lick and clean now, and it scares you at how much you might enjoy it. Oh, Yuuji is going to be so upset next time he comes over and still smells his uncle’s scent lingering on you! 

“He’s just cleaning you, baby,” Toji says softly, brushing your ears away from your face where you try to hide behind them. You look so pretty, staring up at him like that, trying to curl your body into his own, he can’t help but pat your head softly, cooing, 

“Wanna occupy your mouth during the meantime? Want me to make you feel good, too?” He strokes away the stray tear leaking from your eye, smiling when you begin nodding almost feverishly, already pawing at the band of his sweatpants. 

“That’s the problem,” Sukuna suddenly growls out, easing your bottoms down, lifting you by the small of your back with just one hand as he helps you out of them. “You got yourself a spoiled little brat, thinks she’s supposed to get anything and everything she wants.” 

He hums appreciatively when he sees the lack of panties beneath your bottoms, curling over you before lifting your hips from the couch, resting your legs over his shoulders as Toji begins easing down your top to expose your chest. 

“Says the one eating bunnypussy,” Toji retorts back, gently batting your greedy hands away as he frees his thick cock from the confines of his sweats with one hand, using the other to grope at your chest with tight squeezes until you shudder. You can’t help the damn near pornographic moan when Toji pinches your nipple between thick fingers at the same time Sukuna licks a fat, thick stripe up the entirety of your cunt. 

“Its called giving bunny the bath that bunny needs,” Sukuna growls against you, the reverberations of the primal sound shaking through you. You can’t help the pitiful whimper you release when he fits his big mouth over you, engulfing you as he licks and licks at your pussy until you’re already dripping. Toji gently guides the shaft of his cock against your cheek, watching how you mouth at the side of it, tonguing the veins as you try to quiet yourself as much as possible. You grip at his thigh, the other tangling into Sukuna’s hair as your entire body shakes from the onslaught of pleasure. 

Toji knows just how to tweak at your chest, how hard to pinch at your nipples, when to soothe them with the press of his palm before repeating the motions. But Sukuna has never touched you like this before, and it seems like he wants to find all of your pleasure and consume it with every passing second. 

His tongue is thick against you, too big to fit in between your legs, but he makes it fit, somehow. Bullies the tip of it inside of you until your toes are curling, his claws digging into the fat of your thighs without ever breaking the skin, somehow. This no longer feels much like a bath, but you suspect that that was the plan from the beginning, anyway. 

“Such a good bunny,” Toji coos, stroking his tip lazily, squeezing the precum from his pink, drooling head for you to catch at the base with your tongue. You lap at his shaft, desperate to taste his skin, to swallow the musk of his flesh down as you squeeze your eyes shut at the onslaught of pleasure. 

Sukuna’s tongue hyper focuses on your clit, too thick and big for the tiny thing, feel it swell up under his ministrations until he’s sucking on it between pink lips. He hums against you, groaning and growling with every pull of his hair, as you can’t stop the way your hips roll against his mouth. He holds you still in between big paws, growling deep and assertive as he looks down at you from where he holds you hips in the air, over the way your tummy folds in on itself, how your little pink tongue traces the thick veins of Toji’s cock. You make an obscene sight, and he knows he can push it even further. 

He waits until you open bleary eyes, and lock onto him before he does something he knows is so, so mean for a precious little spoiled bunny like you. But he can’t help it—he wants to taste all of you. Sukuna bares his fangs, lips curling back as he growls, lowering his head further, further, as if he’s going to tear your flesh from your muscle, your bone, with just one bite. With widened eyes, do you whimper out a choked little gasp and then—he can smell it in the air before you’re dirtying him, yourself, and the couch with it. 

“You’re cleaning that up, fucker.” Toji grumbles, tweaking your nipples with one hand as he swipes away your tears with the other. You let out a pathetic little whimper at the piss that dribbles out of you, right into Sukuna’s waiting mouth. “I forget how gross you hybrids are about that shit.” 

But Sukuna doesn’t care about what Toji’s saying, too sure that he’s cleaned you up with his tongue before you even had the chance to make a mess of the couch. Your eyes are big, wet, framed by thick lashes and your ears that try to hide your embarrassment. But Sukuna only groans out at the taste of you, the fear that permeates your arousal that he can’t help but greedily swallow up with every pass of his thick tongue on your pussy. 

“Mean,” you hiccup, gripping Toji’s shirt as you begin to feel that familiar curl in the lower pit of your belly. “You’re so mean, ‘Kuna,” you slur your words, barely able to get his name out, but the tiger hybrid groans at your attempt, anyway. The rounded ears on the top of his head, pink with black stripes twitch at the sound, and he’s swallowing your clit in his mouth until you’re exploding all over his tongue. 

“Good job, bunny, you did so good,” Toji encourages, swiping at the drool that’s spilled from your mouth as you tremble, trying to catch your breath as Sukuna keeps licking and licking at you until you’re trying to push his stupid big head away. He finally pulls away, his mouth and chin soaked in your arousal, in your piss, as he licks at his lips, staring down at you with so much hunger in your eyes, you can’t help the dribble that escapes you. He sniffs the air, groaning before he’s flipping you over, pressing your head into Toji’s lap, his cock still standing thick and untouched, as you squeak out in surprise. 

“You gonna let me breed this bunnycunt, right, brat?” Sukuna tells you more than asks. Your head is too full, too high to think straight, and you can only wrap your arms around Toji’s thick frame as you hear Sukuna begin shuffling behind you. 

“No,” you whimper out, belatedly realizing Toji has slid beneath you so that you lay on his chest, the thick mushroom tip of his dick pressing between your lips to kiss at your clit. “‘Want Yuuji to breed me.” 

Despite how dizzy the pleasure has made you, you can’t help the sneaky little smile you send Toji who only grins back. He looks over your shoulder to Sukuna who has paused in his ministrations before whistling under his breath. 

“You sure are in trouble now, bunny. Don’t know if I can save you from this.” Toji hums, hiking your hips up so that his cock can slide against you as Sukuna presses the too thick, fat head of his cock against your spasming hole. Your eyes widen at the feeling of it, thinking, he hasn’t prepped you enough to fuck you yet, he feels too big, almost bigger than Toji, and you just brought up Yuuji knowing how he feels and—

“Fuck!” You cry out, eyes widening, entire body spasming when Sukuna fits his mouth around your nape, pinning you in place. Your eyes weld with tears as you fall limp again, Toji shushing your intermittent whimpering with soft coos as he begins sliding you up and down the length of his cock, making your hole kiss the tip of Sukuna’s with every down pass. 

“You’re in for it now, little one.” Toji whispers against your slack mouth, making eye contact with a feral Sukuna as he thrusts the tip of his cock inside of your bunnycunt. You let out a punched out sound, eyes glossing over as Sukuna fucks you with just the tip, your clit rubbing directly over Toji’s cock, as the tiger hybrid feeds you inch by slow, thick, agonizing inch. He holds you in his maw the entire time, pinning you, keeping you still, from running away, as he fits the entirety of his cock inside of you. 

You can feel more than hear his rumble of appreciation when you dribble on him again, Toji groaning under his breath, but you can’t tell if its from the mess you keep making, or how your clit twitches against the pink, leaking head of him. 

You let out a pained cry when Sukuna finally releases your nape from his canines, falling limply into Toji’s shoulder as your curl your arms around his neck. Sukuna gently licks up the spills of blood from your new wound, grinning to himself, wanting to be there when his little shit of a nephew discovers it, and pulls out before he’s bucking his hips once more. 

If Toji weren’t holding on to you, you’re sure you would’ve flew off the other side of the couch. But he holds you still, licking into your mouth as he rubs his cock against your pussy, feeling the stretch of your lips around Sukuna’s too fat cock, how wet you’ve been getting the both of them. Sukuna is relentless, despite how it feels like he’s carving his way inside of you, never giving you time to adjust, but forcing you to split open around the fat head of his dick. 

You think you blanked out of existence for a moment, because when you come to, Sukuna has twisted your head to claim your mouth once more, licking and nibbling and biting at your lips, your chin, to feel your tense around him in fear, before you dribble on him more and more. He groans, and Toji swoops in to steal your mouth from him, kissing you breathless, almost gentle to the animalistic way Sukuna claims you. The clap of his hips against your ass is loud, he’s mean, so mean, when he grips you by the base of your tail, hauling your ass up higher to hear you keen out in pleasure, to feel you tighten up around him until you’re coming with a high pitched squeak of surprise. There’s no downtime to recover, never is for a bunny, especially when Sukuna only fucks you harder, when it forces Toji’s cock to keep rubbing at your clit over and over until you think you’re going insane. And even after that, do they both fuck you until you’re a pliant, weeping mess; until you’re the good bunny that they both know you can be. 

Stopping in the genkan to shove off his geta that match his dark cotton samue paired with his flashy Shishitoren letterman jacket. Walking to the living room to set down the takeout on the kotatsu before the rummages through your cabinets for plates.

"Togame?"

"Yea?"

"What are you doing here?" With how comfortable he makes himself in your home, you almost forgot you barely know him and that you're dressed in a shirt you never returned, pulling down the hem a bit more since your shorts hardly cover your ass.

"M here to 'fix ya.'" He tilts his head at you, wondering why you're lingering by your entry way, "Like ya asked."

"Like I asked?" A cold sweat breaks out over your skin, prickling at the nape of your neck.

"Yea, wouldn't want you texting anyone else your problems sweetheart. Least not ones like that." He sets the two plates and two sets of utensils down on the counter while he opens the fridge. Delighted to find a beer bottle that he opens with his teeth, before bringing one of the glass bottles to his lips for a sip. Grabbing for the plates and returning to the living room to settle in. Tossing his glasses and jacket onto your bed that lies a few feet from the kotatsu looking over his shoulder while he makes your plate.

"Ya coming?"

"Togame...I-" You let out a shaky breath, there's no way you texted the wrong person. You texted your friend your born again virgin woes, right?

Right??!!!

"Shy now?" He chuckles, pulling out his phone, holding it up so you can see the message that he received and sure enough it reads, a good finger fucking would fix me.

"THAT-" You bap at his phone knocking it from his hands as if that could make him unsee it, make him forget all about your lewd request, "That was NOT meant for you."

"Oh?" His jade eyes are cat like, narrowing for a moment in an emotion you can't place, "Who was it meant for? Surely not someone from Bofurin."

He takes another swig from his bottle, long fingers around the neck that he tightens over the thought. He knew no one from Bofurin could please you the way Togame knew he could, especially not that one with headphones and suckers.

Togame would much rather you be sweet on Sako, least then he was a Shishitoren.

"It was meant for a friend! It was like- like a joke between girls." Your confession shouldn't make his cock twitch in his pants, he palms at it and doesn't bother to be subtle.

"Girls always talk so lewdly to each other?" Silence stretches on between you two before he cracks a devilish smile, patting at the spot next to him, "Come on, gotta get some food in ya."

With your heart beating on your ribcage you slowly sink down next to Togame, who puts on a movie the two of you would enjoy while you eat your meal. Splitting with him what was supposed to be your dinner tonight and lunch tomorrow.

It's comfortable, the silence and occasional comments on the flick takes some odd plot twist and for a moment you forget why exactly he showed up at your door.

Right up until the credits, where you try to rise with a "welp" as if to show him away.

But Togame wasn't going anywhere, crowding your space with little effort and it's only now you realize you practically sat on top of him. He didn't let you get up and there's no way you can escape now as his mouth hovers so closely to yours.

"Now," he purrs, hand moving to cup your mouth, long fingers digging into the fabric to touch your already wet hole, "lemme help you with your problem."

Roughly pressing his fingers into your cunt and swiping up to your clit in slow strokes and it makes you gasp. Fisting the navy blue fabric of his samue when he presses his mouth to yours. Kissing you with a mixture of rough and soft that leaves you a little dizzy. Domineering in a way you'd forgotten you liked, gasping against his mouth giving him entrance for his tongue to slip in. Slow swipes as he tilts his head to deepen the kiss even more all while he keeps that slow rough drag of his finger tips. Until he hears the squelch of your cunt and feels your arousal soaking through your shorts only then does he pull away as you whine.

Hooking his fingers into the waist band of your shorts and yanking them down and off of your ankles, pushing you to lean back against your bed frame as he crowds further. Palm on your pretty mound as his fingers repeat the same action, catching on your entrance that starts to flutter with each circle of your clit back down to your perineum. He watches your face, watches your hips twitch as you arch your back for him, your hands fisting the hem of the fabric at your waist.

Togame brings his free hand to shove his shirt over the mounds of your breasts, exposing your already hard nipples to the cool air of your apartment. Leaning over to lick a broad stripe making you clench around nothing as a shiver runs down your spine. He does it a few more times before he's pulling your nipple into his mouth. Shoving his two thick fingers into your tight cunt with enough force it makes your tits bounce and you moan loudly.

Swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud before flicking it in time with his thumb that now circles your clit. Adjusting his hands so that his fingers can touch that sweet spot and his thumb can rock against your clit with each thrust of his hand.

In just a few short strokes you're starting to see stars.

"Oh fuck oh fuck. Togame, fuck ahh." You sound better than what he's imagined when he fisted his cock to the thought of you. Your name on his tongue makes his cock ache painfully in his boxer briefs, begging to be touched but that could wait.

Biting at the soft tops of your tits, leaving hickies that you'll be finding for weeks as your head jerks back. Coil in your stomach so tight you think you might snap in half.

"Togame, don't stop, fuck, I'm gonna cum. I'm gonna cum!" You sound whiny like you always do and Togame loves the sound. Lives for it and it's why he's always teasing you when you stop by Shishitoren to give the gang a lecture about not trashing the bar you work out.

It always fell on deaf ears that is until Togame made his men listen but he didn't want to think about all that right now.

He just wanted to burn the way you look creaming his fingers into his memory. Moving off your nipple with a lewd pop and silvery string that connects the two of you that he breaks with a swirl of his tongue. Looking down to see how you soak the floor and his fingers making him press into you a little harder.

"Then cum sweetheart. It's why I'm here remember?" With that you reach ecstasy, bucking your hips into his thrusting fingers with a loud moan of his name and tears collecting in your eyes, holding his gaze and if Togame wasn't in love with you before he sure as hell was now.

Watching you pant as he slows his pace just enough for you to catch your breath but let you ride out your high, loving how your cunt flutters around his fingers, trying to pull his digits back in that he steadily rocks into you.

Your manicured hands reach for his waist band, eyes trained on the outline of his long, fat cock.

"Please, 'gami." You whine, pulling at the fabric as his free hand gently pushes yours away. Green eyes tracking over pretty skin he's littered with bruises, kind replaying the way you cried out his name as he feels drool collect at the back of his throat. Pulling his fingers out until just the tips were hidden within your velveteen walls before he pushes the saliva to the tip of his tongue. Pulling his lips away from his teeth to push the spit from the wet muscle right onto your clit, not that you needed the extra lube. Messily rubbing it against the sensitive bud making you cum again with a cry and a biting grip on his forearm.

"No, no sweetheart. This is about you right now." He hums, eyes dark and trained on your face before he sets another relentless pace. Until you're slumping over and jerking back. Crying out his name over and over as fat tears fall past those pretty lashes Togame loves seeing you bat up at him when you want your way.

So into what he's doing to you he doesn't realize his boxers have become sticky until he shifts closer to you. Clinging to his skin too much for it to be only pre, turned on even more that you made him cum his fuckin pants from just your sights and sounds. Even your smell, sweet and sticking in the back of his throat making him insatiable.

"Fuck, lissen to how your cunt soundsssss." He growls, making emphases by pushing you beyond your limit so he can hear the clicking slick and cry of your cunt sucking his fingers back in when he pulls them out.

He doesn't stop until his fingers are pruned and cramping in your cunt that has been spasming non stop for the past five minutes, your throat sounds dry from your moaning and selfishly he thinks he could spit onto your tongue to help you alleviate your pain.

Looking up to see your debauched face, brows furrowed, lip pouting and tears of beyond overstimulation that makes him ease you down into slow ruts til his fingers are just in you. Half smothering you as he crowds your space, slowly pulling out his fingers and lightly tapping your clit as he leaves your glistening folds making you yelp.

Lips at your throat, leaving soft nips and nosing at your racing pulse, "Deep breath."

His voice is soft and it makes you dizzy, slowly pulling in breath until you feel a little more clear headed. Clinging to him slightly and he pulls you closer halfway on his lap so you can curl into his throat. Breathe in his cologne and hopefully think about him as much as he thinks about you.

Little does he know...

"Hmm, but you didn't get to have any fun." You pout, now real tears collecting in your eyes that have him chuckling again. Pressing his lips gently to yours before pulling himself away from you reluctantly.

"Oh I did." He presses his sensitive spent cock roughly through his pants until you can hear a muted squelch.

Suddenly there are hearts in your eyes, looking up at him and pushing him onto his back. Pulling his pants down until they sit midway on his hairy thighs, leaning over to lick the spent cum from his soft cock and if you weren't careful would quickly get hard. Your hand placed firmly on his sternum to keep him from getting up as your tongue travels to his heavy sac.

It slipped into a rhythm, quiet and unspoken, until it almost felt inevitable. Long days that ended in exhaustion, nights when liquor softened sharp edges — somehow, they always ended with you in his bed or him in yours. Sometimes it was his knock at your door, a crooked half-smile that never reached his eyes. Sometimes it was you finding his light still burning at midnight, stepping inside without needing to ask. You didn’t talk about it. You didn’t define it. You just let it happen.

And yet, sometimes, in the stillness after, you found yourself staring at the ceiling, aching in ways the sex didn’t fix. You missed the way it used to be — before that first kiss had redrawn the lines between you. Late night talks stretched across his couch until dawn, impromptu rounds of video games that ended in laughter and insults, knocking on each other’s doors just to share snacks or trade complaints about work. Back then, you never had to wonder where you stood with him. Back then, it had been easy.

Now, every time his hands closed around your waist or his mouth crushed yours, you couldn’t help but think about the morning after. About the way he’d roll out of bed, slip back into that guarded silence, and leave you with nothing more than the memory of how tightly he’d held you just hours before. It made you wonder if he was just lonely. If you were just convenient.

And worst of all was knowing you didn’t have the courage to ask. Because if you asked, he might answer. And if he answered, it might mean losing him entirely.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

The office smelled faintly of burnt coffee and paper toner, that sharp tang of recycled air clinging to the late afternoon. Your computer screen glowed with endless reports, but your attention kept sliding to the man sitting at the desk beside yours — James — the new recruit.

“Hey,” he said, leaning closer so his voice carried under the low hum of conversation. “You’ve been staring at that same paragraph for five minutes. Want me to read it out loud to you?”

You snorted despite yourself, heat creeping into your cheeks. “I’m fine, thanks. Just… zoning out.”

“Sure,” he said, grinning, and the easy confidence in his tone made it clear he wasn’t discouraged. “Guess I’ll just have to keep you entertained, then.”

He wasn’t subtle. He didn’t even try to be. The little asides, the jokes tossed your way when no one else was listening, the way he made sure to ask for help with tasks you already knew he knew how to do — it was obvious he liked the excuse to hover close. And maybe, in another life, you would’ve leaned into it without hesitation. He was handsome, charming, the kind of man who wore his intentions on his sleeve.

It was… nice. Nice to feel wanted openly instead of in shadows and silence.

But every time you laughed at something he said, your chest tightened with unease. You couldn’t stop thinking about Xavier. About what it would mean if you let this thing with the new recruit turn into something more. Would it cut the thin thread you and Xavier balanced on? Could you stop the midnight knocks, the heated nights tangled in his sheets, and still expect him to look at you the same way? Would he even care?

You didn’t know. And the not knowing gnawed at you.

Across the room, Xavier shifted in his chair, the leather squeaking as he leaned back, jaw tight. You didn’t notice the way his eyes tracked every glance you shared with the recruit, every quiet laugh. To him, it was unbearable.

He had put up with a lot. Your hesitance. Your silence. The way you carried on like what you had meant nothing when the sun was up. The way you never reached for him as he made his way out. But watching you lean close to another man, seeing someone else claim the easy smiles he’d fought for in private — his patience frayed by the hour.

By the time noon rolled around, Xavier couldn’t take it anymore. He strode over, casual on the surface but every movement wired tight. He leaned against your desk, folder in hand.

“I have a coupon for that hotpot place you mentioned,” he said, tone deceptively soft. “Do you want to go together?”

Your head snapped up. Heat rose to your cheeks, but before you could answer, James perked up beside you. You glanced between them, then smiled faintly. “I actually promised James I’d take him out for lunch today. Show him around.”

The pause stretched too long. Xavier’s jaw ticked before he forced a nonchalant shrug. “I see.”

You tried to soften the sting, tilting your head. “Maybe James could come with us?”

Xavier’s eyes slid to the recruit — sharp, cutting — then back to you. “I only have two coupons,” he said flatly. “Another time, then.”

You blinked at the edge in his voice, but before you could press further he pushed off your desk and walked away, folder snapping shut in his hand.

James cleared his throat. “Was that… your partner?”

You nodded, trying not to let your expression slip. “Yeah. Don’t mind him. He’s just… intense sometimes.”

James smiled like he didn’t mind at all.

Lunch passed in an easy haze — James kept you laughing, kept pointing out little shops and cafés as if cataloging future dates. But under the warmth of his attention, something nagged. You kept thinking of Xavier’s clipped tone, the way he hadn’t looked back when he left.

By the time training rolled around, James was already at your side, easygoing as ever, matching his stride to yours as you crossed the wide practice field. The late sun threw long shadows over the dummies and sparring rings, the air buzzing faintly with other recruits already mid-drill.

“Ready?” he asked, grinning, staff balanced against his shoulder like it weighed nothing.

You matched his smile, if only faintly. “Ready.”

But when you looked up, your usual place at the far edge of the grounds wasn’t empty. Xavier was already there, stretching, blade at his side, the sun catching against the damp skin at his temple. The sight made your chest hitch, like missing a step on the stairs. This was your rhythm — your spot. Him and you. Always.

Xavier’s gaze lifted, finding you instantly. Then it slid to James, and something in his expression hardened. He pushed up from his stretch and strode over, calm on the surface but sharp underneath, like the quiet before a storm.

“I’ll take it from here,” he said, his tone even but directed squarely at James. “She’s my partner.”

James blinked, thrown off. “Oh…uh. Captain Jenna asked her to train with me until I get an assignment.”

“She did,” you cut in quickly, brushing a stray hair back, suddenly aware Xavier hadn’t heard. “She asked me this morning. I thought she’d told you already.”

For a moment, Xavier just looked at you, unreadable. Then his shoulders eased a fraction, voice soft when he finally replied, “She must have forgotten.”

James gave an awkward half-shrug, shifting his grip on the staff. “Guess we’ll, uh… get started then?”

Xavier didn’t move, lingering a heartbeat longer before his mouth curved in a faint, too-casual smile. “Sure. No worries. I’ll see you when you get home.”

James blinked, caught off guard. “Wait—you two live together?”

Your laugh was quick, maybe too quick. “No! He’s just my neighbor. Same building.”

James’s shoulders loosened, though the flicker in Xavier’s eyes said that had been the point all along.

The silence between you and Xavier sharpened. His eyes darkened, lips parting like he might argue, might finally let the weight of his frustration loose—

But before he could, Tara jogged up, bright and oblivious. “Xavier! You’re with me today.”

He turned his head slowly, expression unreadable. “What?”

“Orders,” she chirped, tossing him a practice baton. “C’mon, don’t keep me waiting.”

For a second, Xavier didn’t move. His jaw clenched, muscles straining as though every instinct in his body screamed to refuse. Then, with a curt nod, he turned back to you. His gaze lingered — dark, cutting, and almost wounded — before he forced himself to step away.

You watched him go, stomach sinking as James nudged your arm with a grin, oblivious. “Looks like it’s just us, then.”

And just like that, the thin thread you and Xavier balanced on frayed further.

Xavier walked off stiffly, Tara jogging to keep pace beside him, but his eyes didn’t leave you. Even as you and James took up position on the far side of the training grounds, he tracked every movement, every exchange.

You adjusted James’s stance with a light touch at his elbow, guiding his arm until his aim straightened. The sight of your hand lingering on another man’s skin made Xavier’s chest seize. Then you stepped behind James, voice low as you demonstrated the motion yourself — your body aligning with his, movements seamless, easy in a way that should have been reserved for him.

It made him sick.

You were supposed to be by his side. Training with him. Trusting him to guard your blind spots, to fight shoulder to shoulder until there was no question where you belonged. Did James even know how to protect you? Would he know what to do if an S-class wanderer bore down on you, if the world cracked open under your feet? Xavier knew the answer — no. James was raw, green, too eager for his own good. He wasn’t ready. And yet there you were, laughing at some joke in between shots, your smile wide and easy.

Xavier’s knuckles whitened around the practice baton Tara had given him.

“You’re sooo jealous,” Tara drawled, snapping him out of his spiral.

His head whipped toward her, eyes flashing. “I’m not jealous. I’m concerned.”

Tara arched a brow, lips curling into a sly smile. “Uh-huh. Concerned. Sure. That’s what we’re calling it now.”

He glared at her, but she only laughed, twirling her own baton like she was playing a game.

“Xavier,” she said lightly, “maybe she’d notice how much you like her if you actually said something. You know, instead of acting like you don’t care in front of everyone else and then brooding like this when she so much as breathes near another guy.”

His chest tightened, but he kept his voice flat. “She doesn’t see me that way.”

“Please.” Tara’s laugh was sharp and knowing. “I’ve seen the way she looks at you when she thinks you’re not watching. You two are impossible.” She sighed, rolling her eyes as though the weight of both your stubbornness sat on her shoulders. “What am I going to do with you?”

Xavier didn’t answer. Couldn’t. His gaze had already drifted back across the training field.

You corrected James’s grip again, stepping close, your voice carrying faintly with another laugh. James turned toward you with that grin he wore too easily, too openly, and Xavier’s chest burned.

The pressure inside him needed somewhere to go. He summoned the light blade with a flick, its energy flaring sharp in his grip. The nearest training dummy fell to pieces in two strikes, the air hissing with each cut. Then another. And another. His movements grew harsher, faster, until the crash of splintering dummies echoed across the grounds.

It didn’t help.

Because no matter how cleanly he carved through the targets, no matter how sharp his blade, it couldn’t slice through the sound of your laughter drifting from across the field. It followed him, relentless, every note cutting deeper.

By the time training ended, his jaw ached from clenching. He hadn’t spoken another word, not to Tara, not to anyone. He only stalked back to the lockers, peeled off his gloves, and left before he had to see you and James walk out together.

The sky outside had gone dusky purple by the time you finished up, the office windows glowing with the last scraps of daylight. You were too focused on wrapping up for the evening to notice him watching from across the room, arms crossed, expression carved from stone.

Your phone buzzed against the desk.

You glanced down.

xavi: Come to my place after work.

No explanation. No teasing. Just the clipped demand of a man who couldn’t stand another second of restraint.

James leaned over, catching the flicker of tension in your face as you typed a quick reply. “Good news?” he asked lightly.

“Something like that,” you said, locking your screen before he could read too much in your expression.

But the truth pressed sharp against your ribs as you gathered your things. You couldn’t keep pretending this fragile thing between you and Xavier could last forever — not when someone else was looking at you with clear intentions, not when your own heart was caught somewhere in between.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

The hallway was quiet, dimly lit by the flicker of a bulb overhead. You’d barely lifted your hand to knock when the door swung open.

Xavier stood there, dark eyes burning like he’d been pacing behind the door, waiting for you. Before you could even draw breath, his hand closed around your wrist and he hauled you inside. The door slammed shut with a sharp crack, and then his mouth was on yours — hot, urgent, devouring.

You staggered back against the wall, your protest swallowed in the force of his kiss. It was rough, frantic, all teeth and tongue, like he’d been starving for you all day and finally snapped. His palms framed your face, thumbs pressing into your cheeks before sliding down to grip your waist as though he could hold you there forever.

“I needed you,” he muttered against your mouth, voice gravelly, words punctuated with another searing kiss. “All day—fuck—I couldn’t think of anything else.”

Your back hit the wall harder when he pressed closer, one knee forcing between your thighs. His hand caught yours, dragging it down, pressing your palm to the thick strain in his jeans. The heat there, the hard throb beneath denim, made your head spin. His breath hitched sharply, forehead falling against yours.

“Feel that?” His voice was hoarse, almost a growl. “Ah—feel what you do to me, star?”

Heat surged through your veins, but panic cut through just as quickly. You twisted slightly, breaking his mouth from yours long enough to gasp for air.

“Xavier—” His name tore out of you, uneven, desperate for space. You turned your face away, chest heaving. “Maybe we shouldn’t… do this anymore.”

The shift was instant. His expression darkened, hunger sharpening into something colder, angrier. His jaw flexed, the muscle jumping as his eyes narrowed in on you.

“Do you like him?” The question landed like a slap.

Your lips parted, stunned. “What? Who—”

“The new recruit,” Xavier bit out, low and sharp. He stepped closer, his chest nearly brushing yours, presence heavy enough to crush the air from your lungs.

“James?” The name slipped from you before you could stop it.

The shift in him was instant. His jaw clenched, his eyes flashing darker, and his fingers dug harder into your waist. “Don’t say his name,” he hissed, the words trembling with anger.

You froze, heart hammering. “I didn’t—”

“Didn’t what?” His mouth twisted in a humorless curve, a shadow of a smile that wasn’t one at all. He leaned in, nose brushing yours, voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “Didn’t mean it? You’re pulling away from me the second he shows up, and you think I’m too blind to notice?”

“I’m not…” you tried, but his hand slid up your side, rough and certain, cutting your words short as the heat of his palm burned through the fabric of your shirt.

He crowded you against the wall, lips grazing your jaw, then lower, the scrape of his teeth making your breath hitch. “Don’t lie to me,” he murmured, and though his voice was quiet, the weight of it pinned you harder than his body did.

Your thoughts scattered, tangled between confusion, panic, and the undeniable pull of him. “Xavier, this isn’t about—”

“One last time,” he interrupted, his mouth brushing your throat. The scrape of stubble and the hot press of his lips sent your knees weak. “Give me one more night.”

Your chest rose and fell too fast, words catching in your throat. “I—”

“You can tell me to let you go in the morning,” he cut in again, voice raw, almost pleading beneath the steel. His hands clamped tighter on your hips, dragging you flush against him so you could feel the hard line of his arousal. His forehead dropped to your shoulder, his next words cracked open, something darker than just desire bleeding through. “Just be mine for the night.”

His eyes softened, but only barely — a flash of something raw behind the anger, the kind of desperation that made his next words rougher than they should’ve been. He leaned in until his lips brushed the hollow of your throat, his tongue tracing up the line of your neck.

“You want it too, don’t you, starlight?” he murmured, kissing and licking at your skin like he was trying to brand you there. His voice cracked, a low plea threaded through the demand. “Your body is so warm… I can feel how much you need me.”

His thigh pressed harder between yours, and without meaning to, your hips rolled against it. The friction made you gasp, the moan slipping out before you could stop it. His grip tightened on your waist, satisfaction flashing in his eyes as he felt you grind against him.

Breathless, you whispered, “One more time.”

A wicked smile tugged at his lips. “That’s what I thought.”

The kiss that followed was hot and devouring, teeth catching your bottom lip before his tongue pushed past. He caught you under your thighs and lifted you with startling ease, forcing your legs to wrap around his waist. The heat of him pressed hard against your core as he carried you through the apartment, his mouth never leaving yours.

By the time your back hit his bed, you were already dizzy from the taste of him, from the sheer force of his body caging you in. He didn’t give you a chance to settle before pinning your wrists above your head, his weight pressing you into the mattress. His gaze locked on yours, fierce, unyielding.

“Tell me again,” he demanded, voice low, ragged. His hips ground down, the solid line of his arousal dragging against you in a way that stole your breath.

“Xavier,” you gasped, arching into him. Your wrists strained against his hold as your hips lifted, desperate for more. “I want it.”

His stare pinned you where you lay, wrists still caught in his grip until, finally, he let go. He stepped back, the heat of his body leaving yours, but his presence filled the room like a storm about to break.

“Strip.”

The command landed heavy in the air. 

You sat up slowly, heart hammering, your body still tingling from the way he’d pinned you down. For a moment you hesitated, almost shy under the weight of his gaze — then something inside you shifted. If he wanted a show, you’d give him one.

He loomed beside the bed, tall and imposing, his arms tense at his sides until one hand dragged up to the bulge in his jeans. His palm pressed hard, a hiss escaping through his teeth as his eyes stayed locked on you.

Your fingers moved to the buttons of your shirt. One by one, you slipped them free, deliberately slow, the small pop of each fastening loud in the quiet room. You parted the fabric just enough to let his eyes glimpse bare skin beneath, then dragged it wider, letting the shirt fall open.

Xavier’s breath came heavier. He cupped himself harder, thumb rubbing along the thick line straining his jeans. “Fuck…” he muttered, almost to himself, voice low and jagged.

You slid the shirt from your shoulders, letting it slip down your arms to the floor. Then your hands went to the clasp of your bra. You toyed with it, rolling the hooks between your fingers, before finally easing it open. The straps fell loose, and you let the bra slide down, baring yourself to him fully.

His jaw flexed, curses tumbling under his breath. He tugged roughly at the swell in his jeans, the sound of fabric straining as he shifted his palm over the outline of his cock. His eyes were glassy, furious, hungry all at once.

You rose from the bed, standing tall under his scrutiny. Your thumbs hooked into the waistband of your pants, easing them down your hips inch by inch. You turned as you did it, giving him your back, then glanced over your shoulder with a sly smile as the fabric slid lower. The sight of your bare skin revealed at that slow, deliberate pace made him groan, his head tipping back for a second like he was fighting for control.

“Jesus Christ,” he hissed, squeezing himself hard through denim, his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths. “Such a tease,”

The pants pooled at your ankles, and you stepped out of them carefully, dragging the tease to its limit. When you finally turned back to face him, you weren’t bare — your panties still clung low on your hips, soft fabric an intentional barrier. His gaze locked there, dark and searing, like he wanted to tear them off with his teeth.

His knuckles were white against his jeans, his other hand curling into a fist at his side. Every muttered curse that fell from his lips made the air between you thicker, the tension stretched taut enough to snap.

And still, he didn’t move. He only stood there, palming himself, eyes devouring you like he needed to memorize every second before he lost the last thread of restraint.

The mattress dipped as you shifted back onto it, propping yourself against your palms, knees parting just enough to leave a space between them. The hem of your panties tugged at your thighs when you spread, your body relaxed but your eyes locked on his.

“I thought I told you to strip,” Xavier said, voice low, clipped — like you’d broken a rule he hadn’t even explained.

A slow tilt of your head, lips curving faintly. “I just did.”

For a heartbeat, silence. Then a sharp laugh — empty, humorless, rough. He moved in on you like a storm breaking, knees hitting the edge of the bed as he leaned down between your legs. His hand slid over the inside of your thigh, rough fingertips dragging until his thumb found the thin barrier of your panties. The slow drag of it over your folds was casual, testing, until he pressed harder — pausing at the wet heat that had already bled through the fabric.

The look he gave you then could’ve burned. His brows drew together, jaw tight, almost seething as though you’d betrayed him. “Is this really for me?”

The corners of your mouth twitched upward — you almost laughed, though his tone suggested he wasn’t joking. Your hand came up anyway, cupping his cheek with a softness that clashed with the storm in his eyes. “Xavier,” you murmured, thumb brushing his skin, “are you pretending to be mad?”

His eyes sharpened, gaze cutting through you. “I’ve only pretended not to be.”

Before you could breathe out a response, he buried himself against you. His face pressed into your thighs, mouth dragging over the soaked fabric, tongue pushing against the damp spot until heat flared sharp through your nerves. You arched back with a gasp, your spine curving into the mattress as he worked through the barrier, lips and tongue and breath all hot and messy against you.

The friction was maddening — just enough to make your hips writhe, not nearly enough to break you open. Your fingers dug into the sheets, knuckles whitening, until frustration curled into your voice. “Xavier—stop teasing.”

He pulled back barely enough to speak, his mouth still hovering over you, breath humid against the wet fabric. “Beg for me.”

There was no give in him tonight, no chance of slipping around his demands. His eyes had that flat, dangerous sheen that told you he wouldn’t be coaxed with anything less.

So you did — your voice breaking on his name, soft and shameless as you gave him what he wanted.

The sound of it must have satisfied him, because he hooked a finger under the edge of your panties and tugged them aside, baring the slick heat he’d been tormenting. Then his mouth was on you again — nothing measured, nothing slow. His tongue worked greedily, sloppily, like he meant to consume you whole. Each drag was rougher than the last, lips and tongue and teeth slipping through slickness, sucking until your thighs trembled around his head.

The rhythm of it was relentless, no space for breath, no tenderness to cling to — just heat and hunger and the sound of him devouring you. Your body seized against the bed, legs twitching, fingers twisting in the sheets as every nerve lit up under his mouth.

And still, he didn’t slow. He didn’t want slow. Not tonight.

The pace of his mouth grew frantic, sloppy, almost savage against you — tongue dragging, lips sucking, nose brushing the tenderest parts of your skin until sparks flared white-hot behind your eyes. Your thighs snapped around his head as your orgasm tore through you, muscles clenching so tight you could feel the tremble in your calves. A strangled cry left your throat, your whole body bowing up from the bed before crashing back down, chest heaving, nails clawing at the sheets.

Still, Xavier didn’t stop. He pushed deeper, tongue working messily as if he meant to wring every last shudder out of you. The overstimulation came sharp, searing — your hips jolted against his mouth in helpless, broken thrusts. “X–Xavier, please—” you whined, voice cracking as you tugged at his hair, pulling him up. “Too much… sensitive—”

Finally, he relented, lifting his head with his mouth slick, eyes red-rimmed and dark. He stripped quick, movements clipped and impatient, tossing clothes aside as if they offended him. You barely had time to catch your breath before he was crawling over you, heat and weight pressing down, the mattress sinking under the span of his body.

You let out a shaky laugh, brushing damp hair from your face, though your lips curved into a tease. “What happened to my bunny?” Your tone was light, playful, but there was a tremor beneath it. “You’re being so mean tonight.”

He didn’t crack. His face stayed hard, lines carved deep in his jaw as his mouth closed over your chest. Teeth grazed, tongue laved, lips pulling your nipple into the wet heat of his mouth. The sharp suck made your breath stutter, your back arch.

“I’m being mean?” he murmured around you, voice edged and bitter, vibrating against your skin. His teeth grazed again before he pulled back, a flush marking your chest where his mouth had been. “You’re the one who was smiling, laughing, with some other guy in front of me all day.”

The anger in his tone made your stomach twist — not fear, but something headier, darker. He shifted lower, and suddenly the blunt head of his cock was pressing at your folds, sliding through the slick mess he’d made of you. Just enough to tease, to smear himself in your wetness, not enough to push in. The contrast was unbearable: the stretch almost there, the intrusion denied.

“And now,” he went on, voice rough, as the head dragged up and down your entrance, catching on your clit in maddening passes, “you say you don’t want to do this anymore.” His gaze locked on yours, unwavering, his jaw tight as he rutted just shy of entering. “That’s all it took? One guy gives you a little bit of attention and now you want to get rid of me.”

Your lips parted, his name spilling out in a breath meant to soothe, meant to explain: “Xav—”

But it was cut off in an instant, strangled into a moan as he pushed forward. The head breached you, then the thick, stretching length of him slid in slow, heavy, unstoppable. The drag was exquisite and punishing, your walls straining around every inch as he seated himself deep, filling you so completely your eyes fluttered shut.

“Fuck—” Xavier hissed through his teeth, the curse hot against your neck. His hips slammed forward, rough and sloppy, like he couldn’t control himself anymore. Every thrust was mean, desperate, dragging a moan out of you whether you wanted to give it or not.

“I don’t get it,” he rasped, jaw clenched as he drove into you harder. “What could he give you that I can’t? What’s so fucking special about him?”

You tried to catch your breath, to explain, to soothe, but the words fell apart the second he snapped his hips sharp and deep. Your voice cracked into a moan, eyes rolling back, nails sinking into his shoulders.

“Xavier—!”

He dropped lower, forehead pressing to yours, breath ragged, voice breaking between thrusts. “Tomorrow, when you’re looking at him,” his pace faltered, stuttered, “laughing with him,” another harsh thrust, your cry cutting through the air, “you’ll still feel me. I won’t let you forget me.”

Your chest heaved. Heat spiraled low in your belly, curling tighter with every punishing roll of his hips. “W-why are you so jealous?”

His rhythm staggered. For just a second, his eyes flicked open, wide, confused, before anger burned through again. He snapped his hips forward so hard the headboard rattled, and you cried out.

“You don’t get it, do you?” His voice cracked, raw. His hand slid up your ribs, pinning your wrists harder against the sheets. “Why do I have to be your little secret? Why do I stay in the shadows while he gets your attention out in the open?”

Another sharp thrust. Your body arched, strangled moan spilling past your lips.

“Do you think this—” he shoved deep, gritting his teeth as his cock twitched inside you, “—is all I’m good for?”

Your walls clenched hard around him, wet and needy, each rough snap of his hips forcing another whimper from your throat. His breath was ragged, face twisted in something darker than lust — anger, jealousy, desperation — yet the way his cock dragged against your walls had you trembling on the edge anyway.

Your voice fractured around a moan, desperate to cut through the haze. “N-no, that’s not it—Xavier, it’s just—”

His pace faltered only to sharpen, each thrust slow and brutal. His mouth brushed your ear, voice low, dark. “Just what?” His teeth grazed your skin. “Because all I see is you spreading your legs and acting like this is the only place I exist. You only remember me when I’m buried inside you.”

A whimper tore out of you, back arching against the sheets. “That’s not…ah—Xavier, please—!”

“Please what?” His jaw was tight, his forehead pressing into yours as he grabbed your chin, forcing your eyes open when your head tipped back in surrender. His gaze burned, red-hot and unflinching. “Look at me when I fuck you.”

The command sent another shudder through you, your walls fluttering around him. He held your wrists pinned above your head, grinding deep until your breath hitched, until you couldn’t think. His free hand slid down your trembling stomach, finding your clit with a cruel kind of precision.

Your cry was sharp, broken. “Xavier—fuck!”

He circled you harder, rolling his hips against yours, the drag of his cock syncing with the relentless press of his thumb. His voice stayed calm, deadly soft even as you writhed beneath him. “Tell me. Could anyone else make you cum like this? Hm?”

You shook your head, words spilling ragged between moans. “N-no, no one—fuck—Xavier, I can’t—”

“Can’t what?” His lips ghosted yours, voice a low hiss. “You can take it, star. Cum on my cock, show me how good it feels,”

That final command tore you apart. Your body bowed against him, thighs trembling, walls seizing tight around his length as your orgasm crashed through you. You cried out, clenching hard, your slick dripping down his cock as he kept working your clit through it, dragging every last wave out of you until you were shuddering and breathless.

The way you clenched broke his composure. Xavier snarled under his breath, pulled out with a rough stroke of his hand, and came hot across your stomach. His head dropped, chest heaving, his release splattering your skin as his cock twitched in his grip.

For a moment he stayed like that — hovering over you, forehead still pressed to yours, breaths uneven, his dark eyes locked on you like he was daring you to look away.

The tremors in your body hadn’t yet stilled when your hand lifted, almost without thought, to cup his cheek. His skin was hot, damp from exertion, and beneath it his jaw flexed tight — anger and restraint wound together. For one breath he hesitated, but then he leaned into your palm, lashes lowering as if your touch was the only anchor he had left. The air between you thickened, and when you tugged him down the kiss came desperate, messy, all teeth and tongue and the taste of something too sharp to name. His hand, still wrapped around your wrist, loosened at last, letting you clutch at him like you’d fall without the hold.

Your chest was still heaving, the air hot and heavy between you when the kiss finally broke. His lips hovered, parted like he meant to say something but the words caught in his throat. His eyes searched yours — dark, fevered, desperate — and you realized he looked just as undone as you felt.

His body still hovered over yours, chest dragging against yours with every ragged breath, but when his lips didn’t find yours again, you realized he was trembling. A beat later, he collapsed forward, burying his face in the crook of your neck. His damp hair clung to your skin, sticky with sweat, and his breath scorched a path across your collarbone.

“I don’t want to let you go,” he rasped. The words were muffled, but you felt them more than you heard them, vibrating against your pulse. His voice cracked like he hadn’t meant to say it out loud, like it slipped past a wall he’d been holding up for too long.

“Xavier…” Your hand moved without thinking, sliding into his hair, still damp from exertion. You combed your fingers through the strands, gentle, grounding, while your chest heaved beneath his weight. The words tumbled out before you could stop them.

“I wanted to end this because…” Your throat tightened. You swallowed, the words breaking uneven. “Because I thought it’s all you wanted from me.”

He stilled. Completely. Then he lifted his head just enough to look at you, his face still so close you could feel the ghost of his breath on your lips. His eyes were raw, open in a way you’d never seen before — dark but vulnerable, glinting like something fractured inside him.

“Why,” he said hoarsely, disbelief roughening the edges of his tone, “would you ever think that?”

Your breath caught. You couldn’t look at him, not directly, so your gaze slid aside, landing on the line of his shoulder, slick with sweat. “Because… outside of this you just treat me as a friend,” you admitted. The truth burned, humiliating to say out loud. “So I assumed you didn’t want me. Not… like that.”

For a moment, he just stared. His eyes widened, his lips parted like he’d forgotten how to breathe. And then the look on his face shattered something in you. He looked—devastated.

“Fuck,” he whispered. His voice broke, low and guttural, like it hurt him to force the word out. “I’m sorry. I…, star, I’m sorry.”

Your heart twisted as his forehead pressed to yours again, almost desperate, his hands bracing on either side of you like he needed to cage himself close or he’d lose you.

“I thought this was all you wanted,” he confessed, his words tumbling out in a rush. “When it started, I thought… you regretted it. That you’d shut me out completely if I pushed for more. So I stayed quiet, I stayed careful. I thought I was doing the only thing that kept me from losing you.” His voice cracked, the faintest tremor running through it. His thumb brushed your cheekbone, tender in a way that undid you more than the roughness had. “I wanted more. I’ve always wanted more. But I would’ve let you use me forever if it meant I could have you, even if it was just like this.”

Your breath caught sharp. The confession knocked the air from your chest, left you staring at him wide-eyed and speechless. His face, open and raw, cut through every assumption you’d built between you.

For a moment, the silence stretched thick, pulsing between you with everything unsaid. Then, because you didn’t know how else to keep from breaking apart completely, you flicked his forehead with your finger.

“Idiot…you should’ve said something,” you whispered, voice trembling despite the tiny gesture.

“Ow.” He actually winced, catching your wrist before you could pull your hand back. His lips ghosted against the inside of your palm, kissing it softly, lingering there. “Yeah,” he admitted against your skin. “I should’ve.”

He kissed lower, tracing the ridge of your wrist, the pulse that leapt there. The scrape of his teeth made you shiver. His mouth followed a trail up your arm, slow and reverent, before finding your throat.

“Instead of telling you…” His voice was a low murmur against your skin, words half lost in the press of his lips. “…why don’t I show you how I really feel?”

His mouth moved higher, leaving tender, wet kisses along the line of your jaw, brushing at the corners of your lips until he finally claimed them. This kiss was nothing like the ones before — no anger, no frenzy, just raw, aching sweetness. He lingered there, slow and consuming, like he meant to pour every unsaid word into your mouth until you understood.

The kiss broke only because he shifted, bracing himself above you. His gaze searched yours once, as if for permission, before he guided himself back in with an agonizing slowness.

You gasped the moment he pressed deep, body arching instinctively against his. The stretch of him, the heat, the drag — it stole your breath, sent pleasure sparking up your spine before he even started moving.

“You’re squeezing me so tight,” he whispered, forehead brushing yours, his breath hot and shaky. “God, you feel so good.”

His hips rolled forward, slow, deliberate, his pelvis nudging against your clit each time he ground into you. The friction had your legs trembling, already coiling with tension. He set the rhythm like he meant to savor you, savor this, dragging it out until every tiny grind had you shivering.

Your hands slid up his back, clutching at his shoulders, your voice catching in a moan when he pushed just right.

He leaned in close, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Every time we do this, I imagine you asking me to stay,” he murmured, the words spilling soft and unguarded. “Making me yours.”

You whimpered, tilting your head as his mouth trailed kisses down your neck, across your collarbone, worshipful and unhurried. His hands were everywhere — sliding over your hips, smoothing your thigh up higher around his waist, pressing firmly into your ribs like he needed every part of you beneath his palms.

“I want everyone to know you’re mine,” he whispered against your throat, pausing to kiss the hollow there. “I want so much more than this.” He shifted, catching your mouth again in a kiss that tasted of raw longing. His voice broke against your lips as he asked, “Do you want that too, star?”

“Yes, Xavier—ngh—yes,” you gasped, the answer torn from you on a moan when he ground especially deep, his pelvis circling against your clit.

“That’s it,” he coaxed, voice roughened but tender. “You’re so beautiful like this, falling apart for me.” His thumb found your jaw, tilting your head so he could kiss the corner of your mouth, then lower, nipping at your throat in reverence.

The pleasure coiled hotter, tighter, until you couldn’t stop the choked moans spilling out, your body trembling beneath his as he moved with steady, unrelenting sweetness. He whispered through it all — how good you felt, how much he wanted you, how badly he needed you to know you were his.

When it broke, it was sharp and shattering, pleasure ripping through you so hard you cried out his name, clutching at him. He groaned deep in his chest, the sound raw, and drove in deep as your walls fluttered around him. The feeling pulled him under with you, his release spilling hot inside as he held himself flush, forehead pressed to yours.

He stayed there, breathing hard, kissing you softly between every word. “My star,” he murmured, voice shaking with more than just exertion. “You’re mine.”

The air between you hung heavy with warmth, both of you slick with sweat and still trembling faintly from the release. Xavier didn’t pull away, not yet. He stayed buried inside you, chest pressed to yours, arms tightening like he thought you might slip away if he let go. His lips found your hairline, a slow, lazy kiss.

“Stay here tonight,” he mumbled, voice low and rough with exhaustion.

You smiled faintly, your fingers tracing the sharp edge of his shoulder, the slope of his neck. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Promise me something, then,” he said, his tone soft, almost boyish in its unguardedness. His lashes were already half-lowered, his breath warm against your temple. “Hotpot tomorrow. Just you and me.”

You couldn’t help the quiet laugh that slipped out, light against the hush of the room. “Hotpot? That’s what you’re worried about right now?”

“Yes,” he muttered, eyes closing, his mouth brushing your hair with the word. “Promise.”

“Fine,” you teased, combing your fingers gently through his damp hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. The pleased little sound he made had your heart stuttering. “I promise. Hotpot tomorrow.”

He shifted, hugging you tighter, nose brushing the hollow of your throat. “And promise me you’ll train with me tomorrow.” A pause. “And the day after that. And every other day.”

You laughed again, soft and breathless, scratching your nails lightly at the back of his head until he practically melted against you. “Okay. I promise.”

A quiet sigh shuddered out of him, pure contentment. He nestled closer, his lips ghosting against your throat like he couldn’t help kissing you again. “Walk home with me tomorrow, too.”

You grinned, tilting your head back enough to look at him. “You’re being so greedy, Xavier.”

His eyes opened just enough to meet yours, drowsy and heavy-lidded but shining with something raw. “You almost broke my heart today,” he said softly, the words clumsy but real. “Can’t I be a little greedy?”

Your throat tightened, but you managed a tender smile, cupping his jaw. “Just a little.”

He caught your mouth in one last kiss — slow, lingering, the kind that made time feel like it stopped for both of you. When it broke, he kept his forehead pressed to yours, breathing you in.

Wrapped up together, his arms locked around you and his words finally stilled, you felt him drift first. Sleep tugged at you too, and the last thing you knew before dozing off was the weight of him warm against you, his chest rising and falling in sync with yours.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

The morning light poured pale and golden through the blinds, casting stripes across the rumpled sheets. You stirred awake to the sound of movement — the quiet shuffle of clothes, the clink of a belt buckle. Blinking sleep from your eyes, you found Xavier leaning over the dresser, tugging on his jacket, his hair damp from a quick shower.

For a second, you just watched. Watched the line of his shoulders, the way the fabric stretched across his back, the casual efficiency in every motion. It struck you then how… natural this felt. How easy it had been to wake up tangled in his warmth, to move around each other without words as you both got ready. Something almost domestic, like slipping into a rhythm you didn’t know you’d been craving until it was there.

“You’re blushing,” he murmured without turning, though the corner of his mouth betrayed the faintest smirk.

You rolled your eyes, throwing the pillow at him. He caught it one-handed, tossed it back onto the bed, then leaned down to steal a quick kiss before lacing his boots.

By the time you both stepped into the association building, his hand found yours without hesitation. Warm. Solid. The small contact grounded you in a way you weren’t prepared for, and you didn’t pull away.

Your eyes flicked automatically to your section of desks — expecting to see James hunched over paperwork, flashing that usual easy grin. But his chair was empty. Your brows knit. “Weird. Where’s James?”

Xavier’s jaw tightened just slightly at the name, but when he spoke, his tone was soft, almost too casual. “He was reassigned.”

Your head snapped toward him. “Reassigned? Since when?”

“Since this morning,” he said with a nonchalant shrug, tugging you gently toward your desk. “I made a call to Captain Jenna. I thought he’d work well with someone on the Chansia team.”

You stopped mid-step, smacking his arm with your free hand. “You’re ridiculous!”

He only smirked, clearly unbothered by your scolding.

From her desk, Tara propped her chin on her hand, watching the exchange with no small amount of exasperation. “Finally,” she muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes like she’d been waiting forever for this exact scene.

a/n: this took forever omg😭 i'm still figuring out how to write xavier so i kept getting stuck + life is so busy. but im so excited to finally have a standalone fic for him

Stopping in the genkan to shove off his geta that match his dark cotton samue paired with his flashy Shishitoren letterman jacket. Walking to the living room to set down the takeout on the kotatsu before the rummages through your cabinets for plates.

"Togame?"

"Yea?"

"What are you doing here?" With how comfortable he makes himself in your home, you almost forgot you barely know him and that you're dressed in a shirt you never returned, pulling down the hem a bit more since your shorts hardly cover your ass.

"M here to 'fix ya.'" He tilts his head at you, wondering why you're lingering by your entry way, "Like ya asked."

"Like I asked?" A cold sweat breaks out over your skin, prickling at the nape of your neck.

"Yea, wouldn't want you texting anyone else your problems sweetheart. Least not ones like that." He sets the two plates and two sets of utensils down on the counter while he opens the fridge. Delighted to find a beer bottle that he opens with his teeth, before bringing one of the glass bottles to his lips for a sip. Grabbing for the plates and returning to the living room to settle in. Tossing his glasses and jacket onto your bed that lies a few feet from the kotatsu looking over his shoulder while he makes your plate.

"Ya coming?"

"Togame...I-" You let out a shaky breath, there's no way you texted the wrong person. You texted your friend your born again virgin woes, right?

Right??!!!

"Shy now?" He chuckles, pulling out his phone, holding it up so you can see the message that he received and sure enough it reads, a good finger fucking would fix me.

"THAT-" You bap at his phone knocking it from his hands as if that could make him unsee it, make him forget all about your lewd request, "That was NOT meant for you."

"Oh?" His jade eyes are cat like, narrowing for a moment in an emotion you can't place, "Who was it meant for? Surely not someone from Bofurin."

He takes another swig from his bottle, long fingers around the neck that he tightens over the thought. He knew no one from Bofurin could please you the way Togame knew he could, especially not that one with headphones and suckers.

Togame would much rather you be sweet on Sako, least then he was a Shishitoren.

"It was meant for a friend! It was like- like a joke between girls." Your confession shouldn't make his cock twitch in his pants, he palms at it and doesn't bother to be subtle.

"Girls always talk so lewdly to each other?" Silence stretches on between you two before he cracks a devilish smile, patting at the spot next to him, "Come on, gotta get some food in ya."

With your heart beating on your ribcage you slowly sink down next to Togame, who puts on a movie the two of you would enjoy while you eat your meal. Splitting with him what was supposed to be your dinner tonight and lunch tomorrow.

It's comfortable, the silence and occasional comments on the flick takes some odd plot twist and for a moment you forget why exactly he showed up at your door.

Right up until the credits, where you try to rise with a "welp" as if to show him away.

But Togame wasn't going anywhere, crowding your space with little effort and it's only now you realize you practically sat on top of him. He didn't let you get up and there's no way you can escape now as his mouth hovers so closely to yours.

"Now," he purrs, hand moving to cup your mouth, long fingers digging into the fabric to touch your already wet hole, "lemme help you with your problem."

Roughly pressing his fingers into your cunt and swiping up to your clit in slow strokes and it makes you gasp. Fisting the navy blue fabric of his samue when he presses his mouth to yours. Kissing you with a mixture of rough and soft that leaves you a little dizzy. Domineering in a way you'd forgotten you liked, gasping against his mouth giving him entrance for his tongue to slip in. Slow swipes as he tilts his head to deepen the kiss even more all while he keeps that slow rough drag of his finger tips. Until he hears the squelch of your cunt and feels your arousal soaking through your shorts only then does he pull away as you whine.

Hooking his fingers into the waist band of your shorts and yanking them down and off of your ankles, pushing you to lean back against your bed frame as he crowds further. Palm on your pretty mound as his fingers repeat the same action, catching on your entrance that starts to flutter with each circle of your clit back down to your perineum. He watches your face, watches your hips twitch as you arch your back for him, your hands fisting the hem of the fabric at your waist.

Togame brings his free hand to shove his shirt over the mounds of your breasts, exposing your already hard nipples to the cool air of your apartment. Leaning over to lick a broad stripe making you clench around nothing as a shiver runs down your spine. He does it a few more times before he's pulling your nipple into his mouth. Shoving his two thick fingers into your tight cunt with enough force it makes your tits bounce and you moan loudly.

Swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud before flicking it in time with his thumb that now circles your clit. Adjusting his hands so that his fingers can touch that sweet spot and his thumb can rock against your clit with each thrust of his hand.

In just a few short strokes you're starting to see stars.

"Oh fuck oh fuck. Togame, fuck ahh." You sound better than what he's imagined when he fisted his cock to the thought of you. Your name on his tongue makes his cock ache painfully in his boxer briefs, begging to be touched but that could wait.

Biting at the soft tops of your tits, leaving hickies that you'll be finding for weeks as your head jerks back. Coil in your stomach so tight you think you might snap in half.

"Togame, don't stop, fuck, I'm gonna cum. I'm gonna cum!" You sound whiny like you always do and Togame loves the sound. Lives for it and it's why he's always teasing you when you stop by Shishitoren to give the gang a lecture about not trashing the bar you work out.

It always fell on deaf ears that is until Togame made his men listen but he didn't want to think about all that right now.

He just wanted to burn the way you look creaming his fingers into his memory. Moving off your nipple with a lewd pop and silvery string that connects the two of you that he breaks with a swirl of his tongue. Looking down to see how you soak the floor and his fingers making him press into you a little harder.

"Then cum sweetheart. It's why I'm here remember?" With that you reach ecstasy, bucking your hips into his thrusting fingers with a loud moan of his name and tears collecting in your eyes, holding his gaze and if Togame wasn't in love with you before he sure as hell was now.

Watching you pant as he slows his pace just enough for you to catch your breath but let you ride out your high, loving how your cunt flutters around his fingers, trying to pull his digits back in that he steadily rocks into you.

Your manicured hands reach for his waist band, eyes trained on the outline of his long, fat cock.

"Please, 'gami." You whine, pulling at the fabric as his free hand gently pushes yours away. Green eyes tracking over pretty skin he's littered with bruises, kind replaying the way you cried out his name as he feels drool collect at the back of his throat. Pulling his fingers out until just the tips were hidden within your velveteen walls before he pushes the saliva to the tip of his tongue. Pulling his lips away from his teeth to push the spit from the wet muscle right onto your clit, not that you needed the extra lube. Messily rubbing it against the sensitive bud making you cum again with a cry and a biting grip on his forearm.

"No, no sweetheart. This is about you right now." He hums, eyes dark and trained on your face before he sets another relentless pace. Until you're slumping over and jerking back. Crying out his name over and over as fat tears fall past those pretty lashes Togame loves seeing you bat up at him when you want your way.

So into what he's doing to you he doesn't realize his boxers have become sticky until he shifts closer to you. Clinging to his skin too much for it to be only pre, turned on even more that you made him cum his fuckin pants from just your sights and sounds. Even your smell, sweet and sticking in the back of his throat making him insatiable.

"Fuck, lissen to how your cunt soundsssss." He growls, making emphases by pushing you beyond your limit so he can hear the clicking slick and cry of your cunt sucking his fingers back in when he pulls them out.

He doesn't stop until his fingers are pruned and cramping in your cunt that has been spasming non stop for the past five minutes, your throat sounds dry from your moaning and selfishly he thinks he could spit onto your tongue to help you alleviate your pain.

Looking up to see your debauched face, brows furrowed, lip pouting and tears of beyond overstimulation that makes him ease you down into slow ruts til his fingers are just in you. Half smothering you as he crowds your space, slowly pulling out his fingers and lightly tapping your clit as he leaves your glistening folds making you yelp.

Lips at your throat, leaving soft nips and nosing at your racing pulse, "Deep breath."

His voice is soft and it makes you dizzy, slowly pulling in breath until you feel a little more clear headed. Clinging to him slightly and he pulls you closer halfway on his lap so you can curl into his throat. Breathe in his cologne and hopefully think about him as much as he thinks about you.

Little does he know...

"Hmm, but you didn't get to have any fun." You pout, now real tears collecting in your eyes that have him chuckling again. Pressing his lips gently to yours before pulling himself away from you reluctantly.

"Oh I did." He presses his sensitive spent cock roughly through his pants until you can hear a muted squelch.

Suddenly there are hearts in your eyes, looking up at him and pushing him onto his back. Pulling his pants down until they sit midway on his hairy thighs, leaning over to lick the spent cum from his soft cock and if you weren't careful would quickly get hard. Your hand placed firmly on his sternum to keep him from getting up as your tongue travels to his heavy sac.