LOOK AT HIM GO

thinking about togame jo and how slow he moves. you’ve always been a fast walker, a fast speaker, always in such a rush. but when you meet togame, he teaches you to relax, to slow down, to take a pause and smell the roses.

“why are ya always in such a rush?” he asks you one day, lounging on the patio of his apartment. he’s in his shishitoren jacket, the orange meshing deliciously with the sunglasses perched on his nose. a toothpick occupies his mouth as his fingers card through your hair, your head in his lap on the wicker couch he brought up when he first moved in.

you shrug. truthfully be told, you don’t know where it came from; the likely source was work, but you’d always been a kid that moved at high speeds. prone to accidents from going too fast, enjoying going eighty in a fifty in your beater car on the highway, skinned knees and bruised chins numbing you to real pain. you were addicted to the thrill, to the fast pace of the city, but sometimes you did yearn for a space to calm down.

not to mention, you could get used to his fingers lazily scratching at your scalp.

“dunno,” you finally say, “jus’ feel like i’m always late for something.”

his chest rumbles with a chuckle as he leans down, pressing a kiss to your lips. “well, ya know ya can slow down w’me anytime.” the request hangs in the air as he looks off at the sunset. the toothpick is tight between his lips as he chews on it, as if contemplating something.

"why are you always moving so slowly? don't people get pissed off with you about how late you are to things?" you shoot back. A smirk tugs at togame's lips as he looks back down at you, a twinkle in his eye. "do ya really think anybody's gonna try 'n get me on that?" he says smoothly, his tone level. you huff. fair point.

instead of bantering again, you nestle into his lap, the hours of sunbathing smoothing out your buzzing brain into something much quieter…a soft, gentle hum, coming from togame’s chest as he rumbles out a lazy tune, as if lulling you to sleep.

your eyes flutter shut.

yeah...slowing down with togame was something you could get used to.

divider credit: @/benkeibear

networks: @thehoneypotserver / @enchantedforest-network

disclaimer: DO NOT copy or repost my works for any reason. translations are acceptable, but please ask for permission first!

© kakuchari 2023-2024

YEE HAWW 🦅🦅🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🔫 PASSE UNE BONNE JOURNÉE 🇫🇷🇫🇷🇫🇷👨‍🎨👨‍🎨🥐🥐💥💥🔥🔥WHAT THE FUCK IS A KILOMETER 🔥💥🔥💥

context: their en vas are married

kissing after oral will always be hot to me

As always: A low number of notes does not mean your work is bad or that it is not needed. There will always be at least one person out there digging for fics, who will come across your work, and be grateful that you wrote it!

Suo Hayato | Wind Breaker Ep. 5 “The Gentleman”

reasons i haven’t replied back:

- i’m socially exhausted - i don’t have the time right now - i don’t know how to reply - i have a bad memory and got distracted - i’m having a depressive episode and don’t have the energy to socialise

not reasons i haven’t replied back:

- i’m ignoring you just because - i hate you - i’m fed up with you - i don’t want to be your friend anymore

sucking thoma’s dick while ayaka holds your hair back and ayato instructs you…

“there there,” ayaka soothes, smoothing back your hair and stroking the tendrils with a featherlight touch.

tears form crystalline pools in your eyes—wide and glassy, a sea of want—as you struggle to swallow thoma’s length. the blond moans wantonly before you, head thrown back, face as sanguine as a rose in bloom. his hands scrabble against the mat on the floor, searching for a grounding force.

the kamisato leader stands to the side of your writhing forms with his arms crossed, elegant brow set in contemplation. “we must do something about your hands... poor thoma needs extra stimulation, i think,” he muses aloud, thumb rubbing his chin. “darling?” ayato calls to you, “fondle his balls with you right hand and grip his thigh with your left.”

thoma exhales a breathy moan when your palm rubs experimentally against his velvety sack before rolling it between your fingers. your other hand braces against his thigh, fingernails pinning down pale leg hair, drawing crescents.

“thoma—be a dear and hold our guest’s head, if you please. yes, just like that; perfect. now you need to press their head down on your cock. they will be fine, i assure you.”

as you’re forced to take more of thoma, you choke and gag, saliva oozing from your stretched lips and dripping into a frothy puddle beneath you. thoma whines as your throat vibrates and constricts around him; his hands fly up and release you.

“i d-don—i don’t wanna,” he puffs, “h-hurt them.”

neither of you notice ayato approach the debauched scene. he crouches down and grasps thoma’s spit-slick chin, lithe fingers chilly against his friend’s burning flesh. “you will not injure them. they simply need further practice,” he assures. he pecks thoma’s sweaty forehead before drawing back to observe.

thoma gulps and nods before cradling your head, resuming his mission to fuck his cock deeper into you. you continue to gurgle and splutter around him, hot tears carving streams down your cheeks, drool and pre glazing the lower half of your face.

the head of the kamisato clan remains by your side. he leans into your ear, lips grazing the shell, “you must prove your worthiness.” he then presses you further toward thoma until blond curls tickle your nose. “there you go,” he coos.

“don’t be cruel, brother,” ayaka reprimands. “thoma is well-endowed; our guest is doing a wonderful job.” she smears a sweet kiss of praise against the back of your neck.

ayato chuckles at his sister’s compassion. he rises to his feet with a smile. “they are improving, indeed—although i am not wholly convinced. after all: thoma has yet to finish. our precious guest still has work to do.”