Chapter Text
You had ordered a large pizza to your house, right before the closing hour. You were sitting idly on the couch, cozied up in your winter PJ’s and letting a movie play in the background while you read a book. It was like a hot cup of coco filled your chest, coating you head to toe in the winter-spirit.
Though, even if it was winter, that didn’t stop you from wearing your thigh-high candy cane socks, and linen two piece speckled with mistletoes. Festive? Of course! Were they winter PJ’s— as in built for the winter? Debatable. But it wasn’t as if you were going anywhere.
It was just you and your smutty book against the world. Not to mention the arrival of pizza. Oh god, you could smell it now. The melted cheese and aroma of pepperoni wafting through the air. And as the delivery guy hands you the box, the hot cardboard scalds your skin in the best way possible.
You thought of these simple pleasures as you read— a particularly hot scene piqueing your interest. You became entranced in the book, the thoughts of pizza slipping your mind. Your imagination overtook your senses.
Before you knew it, a heartbeat was pounding between your thighs, and you were chewing on your nail.
Shit. When was the last time you’ve even had sex? Good sex? The kind that left you intoxicated like an old drunkard. So hungry and hard it was practically primal?
You couldn’t remember. You even contemplated slipping your hands between your thighs— relieve yourself, even if it was just for a bit. But before you could even shift your hand down there, the doorbell rang.
The small apartment echoed with the rattling of the doorbell chime. You groaned, frustration bubbling in your gut. Terrible timing for my pizza. You couldn’t even be excited about the aroma anymore, or the taste of the warm dough and melted cheese. And the pepperoni that had just the right amount of oil…
You pulled at the doorknob. Okay, maybe I’m still hungry for that pizza.
Then you swung the door open, and you felt your mouth pool with saliva. Fuck. Oh, you were hungry all right. Hungry for this Greek god standing right in front of you.
You were eye level to his pecs— the poor fat slabs of muscle strained beneath his shirt. A “Dominoes” scrawled across the front. His shoulders were broader than a linebacker's. Biceps thicker than your neck. Fuck… what’d it feel like to be squeezed with arms like that…
But before you could get caught up in the little fantasies, the cold chill of winter snapped you out of it. The wind picked up, creating goosebumps along your exposed thighs. “Holy shit it’s cold,” you grumble to no one really. But the man, the pizza delivery guy stood there as stoic as a statue. “No shit,” his gravelly voice touched you in places it shouldn’t. “Pay up so I can get out of here.”
You patted your sides (as if you had pockets,) then patted your butt in case you had butt pockets you didn’t know about, and that’s when it dawned on you. You gave the hot man (Toji, his nametag said) a sheepish smile. “Um, my cash is inside…” Your voice trailed off.
Jesus— and his face was something else to admire. Black hair, straight and untrimmed, fell in front of his eyes. It did nothing to hide that hardened gaze, or the way his interest piqued as his eyes trailed lower. A cold shiver traveled through your spine. Was he… checking you out?
“Well I ain’t gonna freeze my butt of out here,” He said, that icy tone softening slightly once he started seeing things he liked. Those thick thighs being squeezed by your slutty socks, and the buttons undone at your cleavage, not to mention the tease that was your goddamn shorts. He was sure that if you turned around he’d get a view from the skin peaking out.
As if to prove his point about the weather, the wind picked up again, howling like ghostly hyenas. “Yeah, c’mon, get inside—” you rambled, ushering him inside before the cold killed you. But another part of you was just using it as an excuse to touch him. And you were so right—- he was pure, hard, muscle.
As you closed the door, and clicked the lock shut, Toji took the chance to look over his shoulder. Catching a glimpse of your ass peeking from under the shorts. He set the pizza box down on the kitchen countertop so he could adjust himself. “God,” he cursed under his breath.
He’s been so pent up. It’s been weeks since he’s touched a woman, much less touched himself. He was too busy with work, and making sure his poor little Megumi is safe and fed. Now he had this woman, sunny smile, sultry eyes, and a pair of tits on her— and he had to keep it in his pants? He didn’t know how he was going to keep things professional. Like he’d even try.
You turned back around, trying your best not to act like a total fiend as he stood in your apartment. He was a tower, too large and big to ignore. Your eyes slipped down, too far down, until you landed on his crotch. The dark outline of something thick and heavy sat between his legs.
You tore your eyes away before he caught you looking too hard. “Sorry for making you come out so late in such bad weather,” you apologized sincerely, giving him your best earnest eyes.
“Part of the job,” he drawled, his eyes raking over you without shame. Stopping where the exposed skin of your thighs was. It was as if you were being held under a microscope. You squirmed a little, trying to maintain some sense of normalcy, even if that’s the exact opposite of how you wanted to be acting. And some part of you was thinking neither did he.
“You might be here for a while. The weather could get worse,” You mentioned, taking a few steps toward the pizza box on the kitchen island.
“Do you want some pizza?” You asked.
“Nah, thank you, though.” He leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching with curiosity as the dim lighting shifted against you.
“Why’re you so dressed up?” He asked. “You got people coming over?” Toji wanted to gauge the situation before his dick started thinking for him.
You raised a brow, glancing toward the window (it was a snow landscape out there). A playful smile pulled at the corners of your lips. “Yeah, because I’m inviting people over in this weather.”
He chuckled at that. “Oh, so you’re a smartass,” Toji’s smile stretched wide, hitting you like a cold shot.
“I was wondering if you had roommates,” He continued. “Family. A boyfriend?”
You leaned against the other side of the kitchen island. “Careful Toji,” you tested his name on your tongue, and it felt so right. “Sounds like you're coming onto me… Or trying to kidnap me,” you added.
His name on your lips… in that slutty little outfit… drove him up the wall. So smooth and sweet as honey.
“Not the first time I’ve been told that,” He said low and slow. Toji couldn’t help himself— his body had a mind of its own. His black eyes, as hot as coal, kept stopping at your legs. That ass. He wanted to snap those thigh-highs against your skin, watch you squirm. Kiss under the mistletoe on your shorts until your legs locked around his head— until he was drowning in the taste of your pleasure.
The TV ripped him out of his fantasy. It began to beep, a red strip of text slid across the top of the screen. It read: SNOWSTORM WARNING. STAY INDOORS. FOR COUNTIES— Followed by a slew of county names.
God, it was like the world was trying to put you closer to him. And you didn’t hate it. The thought of being cozied up with this man for a few hours definitely wasn’t a sour idea. Maybe during that time, he’d put his money where his mouth was. Or maybe he’d put that mouth on you.
Toji whipped out his phone, a ding, ding, ding, ding alerting him of every notification. He let out a soft “tch,” and put the phone back into his pocket.
“Your boss?” You took an educated guess.
“Yeah,” He sighed, leaning forward against the counter. “Told me to stay put. Don’t drive. It’ll be a few hours.”
“Sorry about all this,” You didn’t know what to say other than to apologize again for the inconvenience.
Toji ran a hand through his hair— those forearms bulbous and trailed with veins. It led your eyes up those arms, past the hair, to those biceps. “It’s no trouble,” he said slowly. “Especially when I’m stuck in a gorgeous woman’s apartment.”
You bit back a little giggle.
“It’s true,” He smiled, something hot and seductive pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Getting pushed into the home of a beautiful woman? Made my shitty day a lot less shitty.”
You gave him a fake pout. Your eyes a little lidded from the compliments. “Poor boy. Working must be so difficult,” you laughed gently.
He only stares at you. Ignoring the vibrations from his phone. Ignoring the fact you were both in a snow storm. But what he couldn’t ignore was the sight of those breasts, thick and cute, just enough to give him a view.
“You have no idea what difficult is, sweetheart.” His voice drops and carries a dangerous edge. “Try making minimum wage while dealing with bullshit requests like yours.”
That voice, so sensual and masculine sent hot blood running through your veins. You pressed your thighs together, just slightly, sinking in that little spike of pleasure…Imagining what it would be like if he could give it to you.
“Oh but you must get plenty of tips…” You said slowly. “I mean, with those looks…” You let your voice trailed off, and your eyes trailed down to his pecs. You wanted to add ‘and those muscles,’ but held back.
A cocky smirk spread across his face. He leaned forward on the counter with crossed arms, giving you a full view. “Yeah? You think these tips are worth dealing with late-night customers like you? Most don’t even tip.”
The words slipped your mouth, barely above a whisper. “Let me make it up to you… since I’m such an inconvenience.”
He straightens up, those eyes of black coal sparkling with mischief. “What exactly are you offering? I don’t take bribes, even if they come from pretty faces.”
You leaned in, giving him the best sun-shiny smile. “You think I’m pretty?” You asked, as if you hadn’t just offered yourself up like a dirty slut.
Toji rolled his eyes, trying to maintain his tough exterior. But fuck, were you making him it hard. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. I think all my customers are pretty before they pay.”
Oh you liked that one. He was snappy— probably clever with his words in bed. Definitely knew ways to make your head spin from the filthy shit he says.
From the basket of folded mail and note-papers in the middle of the island, you pulled out a twenty dollar bill. “Well, I want to make sure I stay in your good graces then,” you whispered with a lingering smile. You tipped the twenty in his direction, pinched between your index and middle finger.
He eyed it like an unimpressed monarch. “That’s it? Twenty bucks? For coming all the way out here in the ice and snow?”
You scoffed, a grin still dancing on those lips. “Are you going to take it or can I keep it?”
He took it, fingers grazing just slightly. And the sight of your hands next to each other made your stomach drop. His hands were huge. The kind that could squeeze your waist, wrap around your throat, pry you open with greedy fingers.
“I’ll take it,” He said. “But don’t try anything funny, sweetheart.”
You tilted your head innocently. Smirking at the little nickname that scent butterflies scattering in your pussy stomach. “Try something funny? Like what?”
He moved the bill into his chest pocket, leaning in. “Like making me think you’re offering more than just cash.”
“Oh, I would never,” you mumble.
He studied you— if only for a brief moment. His dark eyes search yours with a mix of amusement and suspicion. You were clearly flirting. But could he go for it? Pin you to the counter, like he wants? Rip those socks up, like he wants? Make you scream like a fucking animal?
“Sure you wouldn’t. Most women in your position would be offering themselves by now.”
You didn’t break the challenge. You reveled in it. “Oh really? ‘Cus you're just that much of a catch, huh?”
There it was— that smartass mouth. A dangerous glint appeared in his eyes. “I’m a fucking catch. But you seem to be playing games, and I don’t like games.”
You watched intently as that waist moved, as the shirt crumbled around his abdomen, as he searched you like he was starving.
You crossed your arms, propping up those tits for his pleasure without even realizing it. “What would you rather happen then, if you don’t like these games?” You whispered.
Both of you are leaning over the counter. Your faces are a foot apart. Close enough to touch if you really wanted. Hot breath mingled. Lips so close and so far away.
His gaze lingered on your chest, before flicking up, meeting that challenge in your gaze. “I’d rather have a straight answer. Either you want something else, or you’re just trying to waste more of my time.”
You bit your lip— ears turning slightly red. He was so blunt. You both knew what the other wanted. But you were a little curious about something. Something that you had to make sure that he knew. “Well…” you said slowly. “How old are you?”
He raised a brow. “Thirty. You worried about being too old for me, sweetheart?”
You laughed at that one. “Right… and how old do you think I am?”
He gives you a once-over. “Twenty-five? Maybe twenty four? You look like you’re still in college, playing games with older men.”
You shook your head, smiling. “Twenty,” you said the number softly. And watched the way he reacted. You hoped it wouldn’t be a problem… If anything, you wanted it to excite him.
His expression darkened slightly. A mix of surprise and something more primal crossed his features. “Twenty?” He said again, like he was weighing his options. But his dick was heavy and swollen in his pants— and it was screaming at him to ruin that young pussy. “Fuck… that’s why you’re so bold, huh?”
You had slipped off of the stool by now. You couldn’t stand sitting— not while your body was on overdrive, trying to keep you from pouncing on him. You bit your lip again, holding back another small laugh. “Mmm, something like that… I wanted some experience.”
He ran his hand through his hair roughly, visibly conflicted but clearly interested now. A ten year age gap… Why did that idea turn him on so much?
“Experienced?” He wondered aloud again. Every time you opened your mouth it was just another surprise. “You’re naughty. I could show you things that would make your head spin.”
You mindlessly (but not so mindlessly) fiddled with the buttons near your cleavage. Your eyes shamelessly tracing the contours of his uniform. “Is that a threat or a promise?” You ask, looking up at him.
He moved around the counter, his voice low and slow. “It’s a warning. You don’t know what you’re getting into with me. I’m not gentle with brats like you.”
Your breath hitched slightly as he closed the proximity, his presence taking up every bit of your small kitchen. One part of you felt this dangerous edge— something that drew you closer to him despite not knowing where things could go.
He towered over you.
You switched your weight from one side of your hip to the other. “Mm, you wanna wreck me baby?” You whispered.
His hand tilted your chin up to look at him. Surprisingly gentle, considering all the different ways he could take what he wanted. “Don’t call me baby unless you mean it,” He hissed. “I’ll wreck that little attitude of yours until you’re begging.”
You bit your lip, maybe enjoying this a little too much. “You like handling a brat, huh?” You noticed. Toji’s thumb brushed your bottom lip, pressing slightly. “I like breaking them. Making them submit and cry for more. Is that what you want, sweetheart? To be broken by me?”
You nodded ever so slightly. “I want to be used,” You admitted quietly, a little flush bloomed in your cheeks. “Guys my age don’t know how to touch me.”
He licked a filthy stripe up the side of your neck. Hot, wet muscle meeting skin— your breath hitched sharply. “Toji,” you mumbled, grabbing his shoulders, bringing him closer.
“Those boys don’t know how to play,” His hot breath tickled your neck. “I’ll teach you what real pleasure feels like.”
He trapped you between him and the counter— that hot mouth giving you open-mouthed kisses. Imagining what that tongue felt like between your legs. Thinking about the way his lips would suction your clit just right.
Your small, pleased breaths gave him all the reassurance he needed. Toji pressed his hips against you, letting you feel every desperate inch he had in store for you.
You couldn’t hold yourself back anymore— your hand flew down to his bulge. You cupped his hard tent, massaging him through the cloth. “Fuck… fuck you feel so big,” you mumble in a whiny tone that made him bite down on your neck.
He pushed his hips into your hand, craving more of that friction. “You ever had 8 inches?”
Eight?! Eight inches?
Your pussy was beating against you. Eight inches of straight, veiny girth…
You were tight and desperate and so so wet. You felt it staining your slutty little shorts. “No… but I want— I want it. Mmm… C’mon baby… touch me.”
He was an addict… addicted to the smell of you. To those sounds. To those filthy fucking words. To the way— fuck! That dirty fucking hand.
You bit down on his neck hard enough to leave a mark.
He grunted. Oh, you’re gonna pay for that.
Toji yanked down your shorts and panties in one swift motion. The cloth bunched up around your thighs. You gasped— gripping his shoulders tighter.
His gaze darkened with lust at that adorable exposed skin.
A thick string of wet pleasure connected from your panties to your glistening folds. “Look how wet you are for me…” His finger traced along your inner thigh, getting dangerously close to your dripping pussy.
You squirmed against him. “Please don’t tease me.” You wanted this. No. You needed this. You needed him to take what he wanted. Make it rough and hard. You wanted him to be selfish. You wanted to be used.
He grins at your desperate plea, but instead of touching you where you want, he pulls away slightly. He caressed your thighs— squeezing that flesh and your thigh-high socks. “Patience, sweetheart.” He whispered. “I want to hear you beg properly first. Show me how much you want my fingers inside of you.”
You grabbed his wrists before he could pull away too much. Looking up at him with those pleading eyes made his grin deepen. So cute and fucking filthy.
“Please,” you whisper, face red from saying something so embarrassing out loud. “Finger me, baby, please… I need it.”
He chuckled darkly at your small whines for release. Yet that resolve weakened at the sight of those eyes. “That’s more like it…” He mumbled. “Since you asked so nicely…” Toji finally slid his fingers through your wet folds, circling your clit teasingly.
You buried your face into the crook of his neck. Gentle moans slipped from your lips. Toji slipped his fingers against your slippery folds, barely able to get a handle of you.
“Yeah… yeah mmm…” You groaned.
Holy shiiiit. He wanted to slip inside. Feel the way you squeeze his cock. Relish in the way your insides contract when you cum. Tease that fucking cunt until your shivering and spent.
He couldn’t take it anymore.
Toji hoisted you up effortlessly, cradled in his arms like a princess. He moves to the room at the end of the hall— door open, with a bed. He didn’t care if it was yours, or a guest room. He just needed a place where he could fuck your lights out properly.
Before you could get a word out, or even protest (not like you’d want to,) he threw you onto the bed. You jounced with a small, “Ah!”
Toji slipped his shirt over his head, throwing it on the floor next to your dresser. From the looks of the room, he was pleased to figure out that it was definitely yours. And that you’d be sleeping in the same bed, even after he takes every part of you.
“Get those clothes off, now,” He demanded. “I want to see all of you.”
You watched Toji stand at the end of your bed, his thick muscle flexing in the dim lamp light. You didn’t waste another second obeying him. You kicked off your shorts.
And to give him a better view— you sat up. Legs folded under you. You unhooked the first button like a little tease. The skin of your chest, then your stomach, and that abdomen coming into view.
Toji slipped off his pants, leaving just his black Reeboks. His fat thing was straining against the cloth. Toji watched you with a hand squeezing his cock.
The only thing you had on were your thigh-high socks. White and red stripes like candy canes.
He moved toward the bed. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous, sweetheart. Spread those legs for me.” He climbed up, and you fell onto your back. Toji made himself comfy between your legs.
As gentle as a whisper, his large hands drifted over your skin. Like he was testing you out. Squeezed your thighs. Squeezed your hips. Your waist. Your tits.Your neck. Trying to figure out what spots made you tick.
His hands brought your wrists over your head— pinned to the sheets.
Your heart pumped a little faster at the sight of his boxers. The smell of his oakwood cologne. The sensation of that heavy body weighing down your bed. You didn’t want it slow. You wanted it— him— like a fucking methhead.
Toji pressed his hips against yours— placing hungry kisses up your neck. It was as if he was dangling that feeling you oh so craved right in front of your face.
Your insides were beating like a violent stampede. “Toji… please,” You mumbled, a little more pathetic than you had intended. But it made his gaze alight with cruel lust.
“Shut it,” He hissed, then pressed your whiny fucking lips against his. Toji didn’t want to hear words— he wanted sounds. He wanted the entire complex to know that you were having the time of your life.
Maybe he was being too rough. Maybe he was being too greedy. But he wanted to give you everything and nothing all at once. Everything, because you felt so good beneath him. Nothing, because he knew you’d be running back to him on all fours if he starved you.
He swallowed every pathetic moan, every gasp for air, every hitched breath. You responded with weak challenges— your wrists wriggled, but he had you completely pinned. Your head was spinning. Just like he said it would.
You tried matching his urgency— only to be outmatched. But if you let him take control— he wouldn’t let you up for air.
The sweet aroma of sex and pleasure filled the room. And just as you found the sweet spot with him— between submissive and bratty. Toji pulled away… licking the remains of your saliva off his lips. “Fu-u-uck,” he chuckled. “You know how to use that mouth.”
You nodded, a little “mhm!” stuck in your throat. And with desperate little flicks of your hips, you rutted against him. He watched the way you couldn’t get much friction, the way you kept doing it anyways. The way those thigh-highs gripped your sexy legs.
“Desperate fucking slut,” Toji grins. “You like getting off to the delivery man?”
“Mhm..” You nod again, weakly.
“Words, baby.”
“Yes,” you manage to whisper without dying from embarrassment. He gripped your thighs like dough. Those greedy touches trailing lower to the
heat between your legs. “Say it. Say you want to be fucked by the delivery man.” He was staring you down. Forehead pressed against your own.
You licked your lips— but the words… they wouldn’t come out. Admitting something so filthy… outloud for him to hear…
He saw the hesitation in your eyes. He didn’t know how he was holding himself together at this point. “You wanted experience, yeah?”
You bit down on your lip. “Mm…” It was a weak, small sound. How would he react if you repeated something so filthy? Would it sound cringe on your lips? None of the guys you’ve slept with previously worked you up like this.
Before you could say something, anything, Toji pulled back your socks, and snapped them against your inner thigh. “Mm!”
But you wanted to say it; those dirty things. “I… I want to be f-fucked… by the delivery man…”
He pecked your lips, as light as a feather. “Good girl… You want your delivery man to keep touching you? Keep making you feel good?”
You nodded.
“Words, baby.”
“Please keep touching me…”
“Where?” He mumbled.
“My clit…”
He ran his free hand between your legs, and pressed his thumb against your clit, experimenting with how you liked it. Watching carefully as he adjusted your strings, so he could make you sing just the right tune.
You squirmed— chest rising and falling. But he was a greedy man. He increased the pressure… circled your clit until you gasped, arching against him like you just couldn’t help yourself.
He chuckled at the way you writhed. The way you tried breaking free of his grip— only to not move a muscle. “Gorgeous fucking cunt,” he whispered.
Your eyelids fluttered back, whimpers escaping your throat. “Yes…” You slurred the word. “More… I want more…”
He was more than happy to oblige.