conglomerance

[conglomerance]

Type Dangerous - R.S.

Synopsis. Five times Ryomen Sukuna’s “wingmanning” family is the biggest cóckbIock in existence, and the one time he finally gets what he wants - you, his nephew’s hot preschool teacher.

Pairing. Ryomen Sukuna x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem!teacher!reader, 5 + 1 things, Itadori family shenanigans, unckuna, he has the BIGGEST crush on you, making him blush, face-ríding, síxty-nine, Sukuna with tattoos, PÚSSYDRÚNK Sukuna, he goes feraI, p sIapping, p talking, he’s BIG, chokíng, tummy buIges, manhandIing, dúmbifícation, creampíes, through pantíes, cúmplay, slight bréeding, getting together, nosy families, lowkey crackfic, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 12.6k

A/N. HEHE TOLD Y’ALL I’D WRITE IT…

“This is my uncle, he just got out of jail.”

“Hell yeah.” Not the most courteous introduction to Yuji’s wide-eyed lil’ friends - but if Jin had bugged n’ blackmailed him into picking the brat up from preschool today then he was going to make sure it never happens again.

And as Yuji starts swinging from Sukuna’s broad, beefy biceps, he grins at his miniature crowd. “He also has tattoos and likes to drink.”

“Hell yeah- don’t forget about the cars, twerp.” Sukuna’s nodding, breezing past the horrified faces of parents that tugged their children at least seven feet away. Seriously, how long was this teacher going to take? He could see your back hunched by another corner of the classroom, hugging a sniffly student goodbye.

“Oh yeah- and he likes driving fast and slashing tires.”

You straighten, probably hearing every word - not that he cared, Sukuna couldn’t imagine who’d want to be around this all day. “Hell ye- oh.”

Until you turned his way.

And Ryomen Sukuna feels his heart drop- right along with the muscular right arm that was stuck out for Yuji to climb all over like a handlebar. And with it, his nephew. 

Who seems quite disgruntled at his sudden meeting with the soft, padded floor of the preschool classroom, standing on his own two feet for the first time since Sukuna had arrived here. He furrows his light brows, “Hey- wha’s the big- oh! Teacher!”

Seems like it runs in the family, Sukuna muses - because all it takes is one glimpse of you starting to head their way before Yuji lights up as brightly as the Sun itself. And to Sukuna, whose nephew was a perpetual Christmas tree, it almost made him wish he wore his usual shades.

At least that would’ve hid the way his crimson eyes sweep up n’ down your figure, languidly. Breath stuttered, mouth partly agape. 

Sukuna’s utterly forgetting himself before he’s called out by one of Yuji’s friends- a squeaky, orange-haired girl no older than five. “Ewwww- why are you red?”

“Shut it, bob-cut.”

“So—” Perfect timing, you sidle up to the bustling little group right as Sukuna spits out the tail end of his sentence. A brow of yours raised, bob-cut? 

And oh- you’re even more perfect up close. Is it really too late for him to enroll in preschool? He didn’t see any age restrictions around, and he could count till ten, surely. Genuinely considering, he’s gulping at the way your pretty eyes narrow. “Jin’s not here today? Yuji, do you know this man?”

The boy in question bounces with excitement, “Of course! This is Sukuna, my uncle who just got out of jail and drives fast cars.”

“Ah- ahah.” Said Sukuna chuckles gingerly, eyes flitting between his beaming nephew and your blank expression. Finally settling on the kid, “Yuji! What have I told you about uh- the benefits of um- safe driving and caring for our fellow civilians on the road?”

And there was Sukuna’s first mistake - asking a question, because surely that was a sign for Yuji to nod solemnly. “That it’s for lame pussies who- mmpf!”

“Ah…” You blink.

The damage was already done- but Sukuna’s clapping a meaty palm over Yuji’s mouth already. Oh, he was smashing this kid’s iPad when they’re home. A thin line of nervous sweat beads down his temple as he stares up at you, “K-kids these days, right, ma’am?”

Yuji frowns, “But you do call them lame pussies who-”

“Yuji!”

“Right right, miss.” The lively girl from before - Kugisaki, he thinks her name was - latches onto your swaying skirts. “And he also likes to drink.”

“And slash tires.”

“Tuna mayo.” 

The crowd mercifully quietens down for a split-second. “…”

Until a grumpy black-haired boy peeks through his bangs at that last line, as if translating. “He says he also sets fires.”

Sukuna never said that - but he doesn’t get a single chance to say so. Too busy staring at the constant knit of your brows, the way your gaze was darting from the children to Sukuna like a tennis match, trying to bite back a smile. “I-is that so?”

“And he has a lotta tattoos.” Yuji pries off his uncle’s muffling palm, back to climbing him like his very own jungle gym. As if to prove his point, he pokes the bulging band of black ink that encircles Sukuna’s bicep. “See?”

And if he was any less devastated about making himself look like an absolute fool in front of his nephew’s pretty preschool teacher, then maybe he’d have noticed that look in your eyes. 

Maybe.

Maybe he’d have seen the slight glint in them as you followed Yuji’s pudgy, directing finger - from the wide tattoos at his biceps, to his wrist, to the circles peeking through Sukuna’s off-white undershirt. So tight that it was like the pale color was nearly painted onto him- if Itadori Jin was the sweet, soft single dad that was always early for pick-up, then Sukuna was just rugged. 

From the dishevelled state of his twinning rosy hair, to the studded piercing on his left earlobe, to the naturally-honed muscles that made him look hulking.

And it almost seemed like you were…checking him out? But surely that was a figment of Sukuna’s imagination, right? Right?

You’re nodding as Yuji looks to you impatiently for approval, “Why, you’re quite right, Yuji.” The corners of your glossed lips curl upwards as you turn to Sukuna - and he feels electricity pang down his body. “Uncles these days, huh?”

Ah, he was gone for. 

It was almost a comical sight, you’re thinking - such a large, towering man well over six feet, speechlessly gawking at you. Leaned forwards, ears red; barely even registering the way his nephew grabs onto the tufts of his coral pink hair like a horse- whispering for the rest of his friends to join in.

Kugisaki makes two treks grabbing onto his sides before she’s looking up and crinkling her nose, “Ew. You’re red again, Mr. Felon.”

“He’s not Mr. Felon, he’s Mr. Tire-slasher.”

Yuji shakes his head, “No, he’s Mr. Mugshot.” Seated upon Sukuna’s broad shoulders, the boy adjusts his body to stick a hand inside his backpack and search. “Would you like to see the mugshot, miss-”

“Okay, time for us to get home.” 

Firmly, Sukuna tries to shoo away the army of toddlers trying to climb him as gently as possible - only four glares, now that’s a record. Nephew still on his back, bag now wrestled into his hand and well away from where Yuji could procure any printouts of his (admittedly flattering) mugshot. 

He’s feeling his heartbeat pick up just a lil’ as he darts his eyes back to you, “I-it was just probation, by the way. Happened to slash some uh- tires…” 

“And also drive fast!” Yuji pipes up happily.

“…That too.” Grouchy face wincing at the amused smile on your face- goddammit he’s never going to be able to show his face here ever again. Sukuna simpers out a wave, making sure to flex his chiseled biceps at you ever-so-slightly - if he couldn’t keep reputation, at least he could make you stare. “See you ‘round, teach.”

“See you around, Mr. Mugshot.”

Fuck. 

.

.

.

“I thought I said I’m not doing shit for the brat’s school again.” 

Jin patiently gestures for him to hush with the swearing in front of the gaggle of children, humming as he keeps handing out sugar cookies - half-off for dealing with Sukuna’s shoddy customer service. “Well, technically, we’re not in the preschool. We’re in the park.”

His younger brother seethes, flicking the ribbons of his pretty pink apron (Jin’s doing, of course.) “Having a damn bake sale-”

“Shush, Ryo. There are children around.”

“Exactly my point!” Was Sukuna the crazy one? He must be the crazy one. And he’s running a grumpy hand through his unruly pink locks- before remembering that one of those damn kids running around this bake sale had called him cotton-candy head and now he’s both irritated and unable to self-soothe.

It’d been Jin’s idea to drag him to the preschool bake sale, held at the nearby children’s park- something about raising money for a talent show.

Honestly, fuck talent shows. It didn’t even take two minutes surrounded by all the fanfare for him to have half the mind to eat those sweet treats himself and just leave-

“Oh hey, you’re Mr. Mugshot.” A little boy wearing a panda mask, one he’s never even seen before, points up at him and giggles as Sukuna glares. Did that nickname really spread?

He’s bending over their frilly pink stall with a damn good word or two about-

“Oh! Jin, thank you for coming.” Before he’s hearing the sound of the pearly gates of heaven, and an angel to accompany right along with it. You. Who’d silently meandered up to their cookie stand with an expression of both delight and concern. Your gorgeous mouth pursing as you stop to think, “And…Sukuna, right? Thank you, too, the children really appreciate the work you’re putting in.”

You remembered his name. He has to hold back a squeal. 

“A-ah, yeah- yeah! Of course, of course.” He’s swiftly leaning over the stall, arms crossed so that you can fully take in the way they streeetch his tight sleeveless turtleneck. 

In the faint distance - honestly, it feels like miles away - he’s hearing the panda-mask boy unsubtly whisper something to his father about how ‘Mr. Mugshot has turned red.’ 

Not! Obviously not- smooth. Ryomen Sukuna is supposed to be smooth, and he’s desperately attacking his features into something that resembles suave nonchalance. “I’m a…real philanthropic type of guy, y’know?” Cocking his head with a smug grin, “So, you come ‘round here often?”

You’re smirking, your giggle sounding like his favorite song. “Well, it is my preschool class.”

Ah, shit. His eyes widen just a fraction, right. 

Scoffing, “Tch, uh, yeah. I knew that.”

So many days spent mentally praying that yet another one of Jin’s work meetings went over time again - just so that Sukuna would have an excuse to see your pretty face. And that’s the first thing he says?

Suddenly, he’s too aware of the ogling toddlers, of the snug pink apron that he was currently donning - and the way your eyes seem to stray down to the gaudy bow settled between his pecs.

At this point, it seems even his brother takes pity on him. Adjusting his glasses with a soft chuckle, “It seems Ryo here had the greatest time at pick-up last week, he only had good things to say about you, ma’am.”

You blink in slight surprise, eyes taking in Sukuna’s large, fidgeting figure. “I’m quite flattered.”

Yes! Sukuna’s pleading eyes snap to the interested twinkle in your eyes, and then to the other man- yes, keep going!

“Of course, Yuji did tell me he was upset he didn’t get to show you his printed mugshot of him. It was all that he could-”

Fuck no! 

Catching the other’s urgent eyes, Jin sputters- “B-but- but, it was just a little vandalism, of course. Just a little ah…a little driving and- eek!” Cutting himself off promptly as soon as Sukuna steps down on Jin’s foot, syllables stumbling, looking ‘round anywhere for any distraction. “Why don’t you- ah! Why don’t you give our lovely teacher here a cookie, Sukuna. Free of charge.” 

You’re waving your hands, oh-so-sweetly, “I could never, please let me pay-”

“Nah, a pretty girl like you? I should give you more, ma.” He could give you a totally different type of cookie but this might just not be the place to say those words out loud- ah, he’s still got it. 

Sukuna’s thumbing out the biggest baked treat between a fluffy tissue and handing it over to you- ready to feel the sweet, sweet graze of your fingertips, if he was lucky.

But oh- it seems like the gates of heaven really have just opened up to him, because instead of taking it from his hands, you’re leaning down and taking a bite. Straight from where he held it. Humming as the candied taste floods your mouth, the soft pushness of your lips taps against the edge of his thumb.

And he wonders how they’d feel on his lips, instead. 

“Ah, sorry.” You’re taking a peek at him through your lashes and maybe he doesn’t still have it because Sukuna feels his breath hitch. “It just looked so good, and my hands are a little…”

And it’s only then that he’s noticing just how many boxes upon bags of things you’d bought from nearly every stall here. Happy to support your students - oh, you really were an angel. 

“Oh, let me.” Ever the gentleman, Jin hastens to move around a few bags so that you’re more comfortable. All while Sukuna can only hold out the cookie and freeze. Slack-jawed. 

Completely ridiculous. 

He doesn’t move a single millimeter, not even when you’re now able to easily grasp the baked good from him. Expectantly waiting, palm raised - while he only ogles you. 

“I uh- let me just-” And it takes Itadori Jin both hands to pry the crumbling cookie from Sukuna’s hands, sighing before wrapping up about two more in apology and handing them over to you. “We do hope you like them, ma’am.”

“Mhm—” Rubbing over the crumbs at the edge of your lower lip with one hand, you look dead-set on Sukuna as you murmur. “It was delicious. My compliments to the chef.”

Sukuna might not have been the chef - baker, whatever you said goes - it was Jin, but he can’t help but feel on top of the world as if he was. Waiting just until you’re out of sight, walking through the sunny Spring park up to the next parent-manned stand, to pump his fist with a low ‘hell yeah!’

“Ryo, you haven’t been this smitten since- well, ever.”

“Daddy, Mr. Mugshot is really weird.”

Sukuna whirls at a few staring parents- “The fuck are you lookin’ at?”

.

.

.

“Remind me why you’re here again?”

“Remind me why you’re here again?”

Arguing with a thirteen-year-old wasn’t very high on Sukuna’s bucket list, and yet, it seemed to happen on a nearly daily basis. He would blame middle school for being the root of Choso’s attitude, but he suspects the new emo look has something to do with it, too.

And maybe the fact that the older man was accompanying one of his weekly visits to Yuji’s preschool playground. Cutting off just the last of Friday’s classes just so that he could walk down the street to see his little brother. Despite seeing him at home every day, but still. 

That’s also what Sukuna himself was here for- of course. Why else would he-

“Ah ah- Kugisaki, what have I told you about using the toy construction hammer for things other than construction? We don’t hit, m’kay?”

Sighing, the way that Sukuna’s towering frame leans against the playground’s cherry blossom tree for support draws such disgust from Choso. Dark eyes flickering between his blushing uncle, and you - in the middle of the sand pit, trying to wrangle a class of toddlers. “You’re pathetic.”

“Shut it, scrawny.”

“Why don’t you just talk to her?”

Sukuna’s life flashes before his very eyes, and strangely it’s mainly made up of every moment where he’s embarrassed himself in front of you. Looking away with a huff, “It’s…complicated.”

The other snickers, “Well, it’s about to get a whole lot more complicated because she’s coming up to us right now.”

Oh, fuck.

Now, he might have had the sense to ‘accidentally’ bump into his oldest nephew just as he was on his route to meet Yuji (Sukuna had memorized his schedule, sauntering by this very block for an hour until he’d run into Choso) - but he didn’t have enough wit for this.

Conversations? With both parties and a classroom of preschoolers participating? 

He was just about ready to race right out of here and leave Choso to the wolves-

“Cho! You’re here as always.” You’re smiling as you waltz up to them, a neat line of toddlers following you as they would a mother duck. Hitting him with your scent of flowers n’ the sunniest of days, “And I see you’ve brought along a guest with you- how are you, Sukuna?”

“F-fine.” F-fine? With a stutter? Sukuna simply bristles at the smirk his nephew shoots his way, already feeling the tips of his pierced ears start to scald bright hot. 

“Bubba!”

Saved by the bell-like shriek of Yuji, enough to make Choso take a few steps over and hug his toddling brother so tight that the former squeals. Checking him over for scratches, dust, stickers- you name it. 

You’re catching the raise of Sukuna’s brows and chuckle, “He is always quite the attentive older brother. You should join us more often, I’m sure Yuji would enjoy having his favorite uncle around.”

Mouth dry, “I’m- I’m his only uncle.”

Yet, your grin still stands - a slight knowing curve in them that makes his brain fuzzy, and his lips just a bit too loose. Did he say he liked drinking again? What a fucking lie, you got him more buzzed than a shot of straight vodka pumping through his nerves. 

And he’s finding himself reaching over to brush a stray petal of cherry-pink from your crown. Blurting out before he can stop himself, “Hey…so what’s your ty- I mean, are you seeing any-”

“She’s mine!” Cuts off an annoying, grating voice - one that understood what you evidently didn’t, with the few syllables that Sukuna had been able to croak out.

And he’s looking over your shoulder to find himself being stared down (stared up at?) by a boisterous, buzz-cut boy slightly older than Yuji. Protectively standing behind you as he glared daggers, “When I’m old like you, she shall be my bride, Mr. Mugshot.”

Huh.

You’re droning out in your nicest tone, wagging your finger. “Now now, Todo Aoi, what have I told you about not proposing to your teachers?”

“To not.”

“And what are you doing?”

“Proposing.” Stifling a sigh, you realise that it would be yet another chat with Todo’s guardian about the boy’s harmless little puppy crush. 

But before you can direct the conversation back towards anything else, he’s stabbing an accusing index up at Sukuna’s looming frame. “Miss teacher here-” Not quite your name, but close enough. “-and my sweet idol Takada-chan are the only ones I shall marry. You can’t have either!”

“Who the hell…” Sukuna furrows his brows- what was this boy talking about? “Listen, kid, I-”

“Pffft–!” He could recognize that burst of muffled laughter anywhere, and at least Choso was having a grand ol’ time- whispering to Yuji, “Don’t you think this is like those late-night dramas dad pretends not to watch?”

No! Sukuna’s internally groaning. 

“Oh- oh yeah!” An over-hearing Kugisaki bounces at the mention of dramas, “My mommy watches those. Times like this the two guys will fight over the pretty girl.”

Todo puffs up his chest, “Then fight me, old man- I demand a duel!”

“I’m not even thirty?”

“That’s old.” Choso nods.

“You’re thirteen.”

“I’m five!” Yuji jumps up, and immediately his older brother’s pulling his phone out to snap a few hundred photographs at the cuteness. 

Todo stomps, “Fight me, fossil–”

And his young nephew - that traitor - is the next one to shrill with glee at the altercation, clapping his hands once Todo charges forward with a damn war cry to pummel Sukuna’s abs with hits about as fierce as cotton. “Fight! Fight! Fight!”

At the slight raise of your brows at the chaos, Sukuna rushes to explain, “Please excuse my nephew’s behaviour, ma’am, I don’t know where he got it from-”

Choso deadpans, “But you’re the one that taught us that the best talk is to talk with your fists because-” The two brothers turn to each other in unison, as if preaching the truth and nothing but the truth. “-we’re no weakass bi-”

“Their father.” Sukuna grits out- okay, maybe that kid’s punches were getting a little more painful. Or maybe it was just the way you were cocking your head at him that made his stomach churn, “Surely.” 

“Defend the honor of your woman, geriatric–!”

Seemingly snapping out of the little reverie of taking in whatever the fuck this was, you clap your hands in that teacherly way to demand silence. “Alright alright, break it up. You wouldn’t want me to take down any of your star points, would you, Aoi?” Tugging away the boy from Sukuna, you grimace up at him. “I’m so sorry about all of- well- this.”

Waving off- remember, Sukuna, nonchalance. Nonchalance. “Don’t worry about it, mama.”

“Y’know how they apologize to each other in the dramas?” Kugisaki speaks up, and honestly, this girl really did speak up at the most inopportune times. She glows at all the attention on her, “They kiss.”

And she was a genius.

An absolute genius, bob-cut!

Yuji - ever his lil’ ally - starts pumping his fist with whoots- “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

Starting up a slight chant within your group, you turn to him in question.

“I uh…” Sukuna starts, tilting his body down ever-so-slightly, until you could could nearly every thread on his dark hoodie. The way his slashing tattoos framing his jaw ripple as he gulps, “You don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to, ma- that’s assuming you wanted to do something, and what I meant was-”

It was one second. A singular, heavenly second that your lips graze the right side of Sukuna’s cheek as he rambled - fluttering away right before his skin started to scorch with a blush.

Quite frankly, fuck nonchalance. 

“Ewww, he’s red again. What’s wrong with him?”

“Were you this red when you were setting fires, Mr. Mugshot?”

“He looked nothing like this in his mugshot- wanna see?”

“Salmon.”

Ears tinting a shade that matches his hair, voicebox void of any coherent words, Sukuna barely even functions until he’s hearing the sharp ka-chick! of a camera shutter. Whirling his head ‘round to find Choso with his phone pointed at him, catching him in all his flustered glory. “I’ll send it to the family groupchat.” He turns to you. “And to you on the preschool groupchat.”

Imagine Sukuna’s surprise when he finds you nodding, “Mhm, oh, and I should really be getting the kids back now, it’s almost time for the bell.” Making the kids waddle into a neat line once more, you wave. “Thank you for the visit- do come again, it was quite…interesting.”

And they stare - Choso at Yuji, Sukuna at you - as you and your classroom disappear back within the preschool walls. “No phone for you for two weeks.”

“No hot teacher’s number for you forever.”

Only after a second- “Hey- hey kid. Show me that number again? I’ll make it one week.”

.

.

.

Sukuna had almost, mercifully, forgotten about that damn talent show. 

The bake sale? Gaping at you for nearly five full minutes straight? Never happened. 

And he’d almost convinced himself of that- until the time came for him to be seated right on the very front row of the cozy preschool auditorium. Taking up nearly three chairs as he squeezes himself into the humble seat, arms crossed and scowling. 

“You know…” Jin claps as Yuji and Kugisaki fight to clamber onto stage first, with a reluctant Fushiguro in tow. About to showcase whatever it is that they’d been practising with doves and sticks all week. From the corner of his mouth, “When we had the kiddos over, Megs told me something very interesting the other day.”

“Hm.” Sukuna’s grunts noncommittally when Yuji pulls out a comically large fairy wand - ah, a magic show.

“Something about you duelling with a kid for the hand of a certain someone.”

Letting out a strangled groan, his eyes immediately find you - as they always seemed to do. Stuck on the way you were kneeled by the front of the stage, motivating each little performer tonight. “Y-ya don’t say…”

Jin beams, “You know, you should really ask her out, Ryo- oh! Do you need our help? I can tell you this, the Itadori family makes great wingmen.”

“Ya don’t say.”

Tattletale, Sukuna’s grousing. And just as Fushiguro Megumi finds himself being stuffed into a box - to be sawed in half as all good magicians did, apparently - the older man slowly, menacingly pulls out his prized camcorder. 

Just in time for Fushiguro to glance over and have his face pale at the blinking, recording lens. 

“After all, Megumi did say you were blushing like a- what was it- ‘maiden in love’ that day. How cute.” 

“Ya don’t say.” Sukuna zooms in, right on the black-haired boy’s ashen face once the saw raises high in the air to magically cut him in half. And to make things even worse, he starts pointing at his camera, mouthing through a grin, ‘Oh yes.’ At Fushiguro’s slight shake of his head. ‘You are dead.’

But, alas, it was too good to be true.

And instead of having the little snitch be the casualty in one of Yuji’s magic tricks, the talent show goes shockingly smoothly. Hell, Wasuke slept through only about half of it, which was as much of a compliment as one could get. 

All because of your efforts, surely - and when the entire thing ends with (surprise, surprise) every little brat getting awarded a winning prize, Sukuna finds himself not half-annoyed that he’d actually sat through all of it.

Well, right up until about when it was time for the exhausted preschoolers to be taken home by their families. 

And Yuji comes bounding up to the four with a squealing—“Dadda–! Bubba–! Gramps–! Mr. Mug-”

“Another word out of you and I’m throwing your iPad out the window.” Sukuna grumbles, heart leaping to his throat when he’s spotting your chuckling figure follow up behind his nephew, as if Jin’s elbowing wasn’t a sign enough.

Yuji frowns, “Aw, but I already told everyone here.”

Damn gremlin- but before he can get another word in, you’re already greeting his brother and father with a smile. “It’s so great to see you again, Mr. Itadori- I hope that blood pressure you were telling me about is better now.”

“Ah, ya know- I won’t be dying any time soon.” Wasuke barks out a hoarse noise of laughter, before beadily eyeing Sukuna. “This one, however…”

Your gorgeous face drops in worry, and he doesn’t know whether to whine at his father for letting you make that expression, or giggle because you cared about him. Fuck. “Oh no- everything alright, Sukuna?”

But Wasuke answers for him, “No. Not at all, quite the incurable disease, my dear.”

He watches on in matching confusion with Yuji as Jin lights up beside him, “Ah- ah! Right right, that-” Soothing his face into something pitiful as he turns to you, “That ah- thing that only heh- one person can solve.”

About as subtle as a sledgehammer. 

And just as efficient in bagging the woman of one’s dreams.

Because you only furrow your brows in confusion, “I’m…sorry? What?”

Sukuna’s older brother’s smile tightens in desperation, nervously laughing. “You- you know…that thing?” And you tilt your head, eyes darting between the four as if trying to work out the punchline. “The thing like- the heart condition? No- not something serious but like…the butterflies?” Now looking to Sukuna for help - as if the other man wouldn’t just let him rot in the very grave he’d dug for himself. 

Then at Choso, who’d been quietly attempting to disappear into the wall plaster. Trying not to laugh as he dotes on Yuji, “The doki-doki.”

Jin snaps his fingers, “Yes! Like the doki-doki? The-”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake- he wants to fu-”

“That’s enough for tonight, pa.” It really does run in the family - because in a split-second, Sukuna has his palm clapped over Itadori Wasuke’s mouth. Smile painfully plastic, “Did you take your meds today, dear father? I don’t believe you took your meds today.”

He plunges his sprightly father into Jin’s arms, “Say, Jin, why don’t you get dad his meds.” Making note of the way that you - still thoroughly confused, and now thoroughly off your shift helping each student get to their guardian - were toyin’ with the cute decorations of your car keys. 

Letting his mouth work before his brain could regret anything- “And why don’t I walk you to your car, ma?”

“I- what.” You’re somewhat shocked at being addressed so directly, and at the kindly incline of Sukuna’s head. “Don’t you have a heart condition? I wouldn’t want to exert you, Sukuna.”

Wasuke grunts, “Exert him in another- mmpf-” Hastily shushed by Choso’s palm, more for his sanity’s sake than his uncle’s.

These damn- he narrows a glare down at an unabashedly-eavesdropping Jin and Wasuke. “No. No, don’t worry about it, they were just joking. Ha. Ha.” 

Well…it was quite dark outside the building, even with the surrounding streetlights. And your vehicle might just be a little ways away but it never hurt to be extra safe, did it? Especially when his stature was so intimidating anyways?

And so, you nod. 

And he walks with you.

More like floats beside you on cloud nine, actually. Sukuna’s sure you two made quite a sight in the corridor, if the way passing parents whispered to each other signalled anything - him, with his ears flared red, unable to even look at you directly as you two were alone. You, as perfect as ever.

“Ah- so-”

“What did you-”

You’re both speaking at the same time once you’re out of the school building, laughing into the nearly-empty night air that forms clouds out of your puffs of laughter. The few minutes of a walk to the parking lot seemed like eternity - and Sukuna would have gladly let it be. 

“You speak.” You’re urging.

“No you.”

“You-”

“I refuse.”

“Fine.” Rolling your eyes, you never noticed the way he always seemed to nudge his head ever-so-closely to you whenever you spoke. As if he was hanging onto your every word. “What did you think about the talent show?”

“Brilliant. All because of you, of course- got so much blackmail to use in ten years.” He cackles.

Though, that’s stopped short very soon the nanosecond you’re nudging him playfully. Heat touching heat. And he shivers, “Hit me if this is strange.” Letting the tense air clog his throat, at least, that’s his excuse for it. “But do you remember that thing I meant to ask you that one time at the playground…”

“Yes—?”

“Are you-” Sukuna’s husky baritone cracks and he twists his face into a wince, “D-do you happen to be seeing anyone?”

You blink, and there’s something about the way you look at him that makes him feel like you’re holding back such a smile. How he wished to see it right now. Musing into the silent night air, only thrumming with your footsteps towards the car, “Nope.”

“O-oh.” And if this was any other time, then he’d be embarrassed about how obviously relieved he sounds. How you surely must have picked up on it.

Faking nonchalance, he’s stuffing his hand into the baggy cloth of his ripped jeans, “Cool.” And it was a damn good thing you didn’t have x-ray vision like all the heroes in all those weekend cartoons Yuji watched - because then you’d have seen the way his painted nails dig in so deeply into his palms in pure excitement. Nearly hard enough to draw blood. “Very cool.”

“Very cool.” You’re echoing, now stood by the driver’s seat of your car - just waiting for him to say something. Anything. 

Waiting as he opens his mouth- “What’s your ty-”

“Yuji- Yuji noooo- don’t interrupt your uncle’s k-drama moment- oh, dammit.” Itadori Jin, who’d been chasing after an adventure-hungry Yuji, balks at the way you were both so close. Snatching up his struggling toddler, “Forget about me! We- we never here- go back to doing whatever you were doing!”

And somehow, you lurch apart as if you’d just been shocked. Only now realizing just how warm the temperature of his proximity was, fighting to keep your professional façade in front of your spying audience. 

“I bid you goodnight, Jin- Yuji.” Gesturing out a wave, you’re getting into your ride so quickly that Sukuna thinks he must’ve been dreaming you up. “And you, Sukuna.”

Nevermind- not a dream. 

Definitely not a dream. Because even in his sweetest hallucinations he wouldn’t have been able to make you say his name like that. Almost a purr. Almost batting your lashes.

Almost ripping out his heart from his very chest as you then speed down the road.

“That’s the best ya could’ve done, sonny? Even after I taught you everything to know about wooing a woman?” How very much like Wasuke to manifest from nearly thin air, from somewhere out of the shadows of the building. 

“Not that.” 

“Especially that.”

The older man only waves off Jin’s bemoaning concern about ‘ruining the moment- they had a doki-doki moment!’ “Choso’s in the car, can’t believe I lost a bet to a middle-schooler. Dammit.”

Sukuna’s eyes widen, “You…bet on me?”

“Whaddaya think, sonny?” 

Jin smiles, “Guilty.”

“Gwuilty!” 

“No- no, Yuji, not guilty.”

Wasuke paces away, shaking his head. “Thought I raised you better- keh! Thought I’d get grandchildren from you, too. Tch, now I owe a middle-schooler fifty yen, oh, woe is me.”

It takes a second for Sukuna to register the words, “Wait- only fifty yen?”

“Yeah, that’s just about my belief in you, kid.”

.

.

.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! 

“Oi- oi, Jin. Go get the door.”

“I’m cooking dinner–! Cho, could you get the door?”

“I’m in the middle of homework- ask uncle.”

Sukuna grumbles, why the hell was he the one to always answer that damn door? Honestly, Yuji could buck up and get some experience yelling at sleazy salesmen sometimes. Sprawled out across the TV room couch, he stares at his nephew playing with a toy bow and arrows set on the floor, “Yuji, could you get the-”

“I can hear you, Ryo.”

Dammit- there was a reason why Itadori Jin was the older brother. 

And there was also a reason why Ryomen Sukuna had a reputation in this quaint neighborhood for being a boor - not that that was much of a brag. But at least it explained why he was stomping up to the oak front door, damn near ripping it off its hinges with a growl- “We’re not buying any- oh.”

‘Oh’ was right.

Because standing right there on his porch was a damn sight for sore eyes - you. 

You, with your mouth parted and your brows slightly raised as you looked from the messy bangs of his locks to the oversized sweater he was wearing. You, who doesn’t even flinch about the fact that he’d just answered the door yelling. You, donned in a pretty lil’ skirt that makes him gulp- 

“You okay, Sukuna?”

“No. So how are you doin’ on this fine day, ma? ”

“Oh!” A happy call of your name makes you turn - even though Sukuna just stares, shell-shocked. Jin shoves him bodily out of the way, opening the door wider, “Please- come in, we’ve been expecting you.”

Looking down at the slight stain of something at the hem of his sweatpants, the other man frowns. It’s not like that was news he’d ever forget - so why the hell was he looking like that? “We have?”

“Yes?” Jin’s showing you the way in- only for you to be dragged in by an overeager Yuji anyways. And as the two of you disappear down the halls, he’s turning to his taller brother in genuine confusion. “Did Cho not tell you that we were having Yuji’s teacher over for dinner tonight?”

At Sukuna’s sputtering, Jin wastes no time grasping a nearby broomstick and thumping the wooden end up against the ceiling. “Kamo Choso–!”

And out comes a muffled reply, “I told grandpa to tell him!”

“Haaah? I told Yuji to.”

It sinks in. The fact that you were here, all prettily dolled-up and at their family home - and you’d happened to see him in nothing but a stained, ratty sweatshirt and pants torn down the side of his thigh to show off one tattoo. 

Jin grimaces, “Um…we can still wingman our way through this?”

“I’m gonna kill you.”

Murder does not, in fact, come before dinner; as all good manners dictate. And Sukuna decides that revenge can wait after he’s totally, completely, utterly made you swoon.

“S-so-” Only after a quick change into his best tightly-fitted turtleneck and his silver chains did he dare to show his face ‘round you again. Spritzing enough cologne to almost overpower Jin’s omurice, he tries to smize from where he was sitting right opposite you on the kotatsu. “Nice place, huh?” 

The shot of extra, extra strong sake that Wasuke slides over is a consolation as much as a ‘you’re not in a restaurant, you fool!’ He finishes the cup in one go.

“You do have a very beautiful home.” You’re nodding over at a proud Jin. 

“And the- food- how is the food?” Another cup- what moral support, father. 

“Mmm- amazing, I usually never have the time to cook much for myself with the kids n’ all.”

Which Jin takes as the cue for him to butt in on the conversation, helping it flow as smoothly as an enclosing dam would to a river. “You like kids, huh?” Kicking Sukuna underneath the kotatsu, he rattles the plates. “Our Ryo here also…tolerates children.”

“Really?” You’re teasing, “I couldn’t tell.”

“Why I love kids, yeah.” Sukuna tuts as he lifts his hand to pat the crown of Choso’s head- who only swerves out of the way, food finished n’ leaving the room to join his brother playing. Hiccuping, you were so pretty sat in front of him like this- too pretty, that the vision of you was starting to get blurry. 

And another cup.

He’s jostled by the tap of Jin’s hand on his arms- “And he’s actually quite sweet in his own way once you get to know him. I’m sure dad agrees-” Ignoring Wasuke’s ‘I don’t’. “-that he’d make such a responsible-”

“U-unless you don’t like kids.” Still stuck on that - still. Sukuna downs it and then shakily pours himself another. “In that case, I don’t like kids either. Yeah, can’t stand them.”

And another. 

Jin and Wasuke share a glance between themselves when the hulking man leans over the kotatsu towards you with what sounded suspiciously like a whine. “Would you want kids with me?”

And- 

“Sukuna-”

“W-well—time for Ryo to be put to bed, I think.” Jin hastily stands up, struggling to hoist his oversized younger brother from his seat. Failing, evidently, as in that time he’s managing to gulp down another two or three sake cups. “Dad- a little- help?”

Wasuke only shakes his head gravely at you, “You should know he was switched at birth.”

“We’re nearly identical twins–”

“Twins? What-” Sukuna babbles, “Does she want twins?”

Glassy eyes blinking n’ squinting furiously down at you as if trying to figure out whether you were real. Before ultimately giving up, it seems.

Because he’s stumbling a few unsteady steps forwards, pulled by Jin, before dropping to his knees and toppling his head over your lap, just by the gap of the kotatsu edge and your stomach. He’s nuzzling his face right against your tummy, “Mmm— maybe triplets. Would be the cutest fuckin’ things if they looked anything like hck! her.”

You giggle and he gasps- as if the epiphany had just struck him. “Quadruplets?”

Starin’ down at him, at the rosy blush painting his ears, you’re muttering. “You wish.”

“Dammit- even this hck! illusion of her is fine as fuck. Shit. I wonder if her type is…” 

Trailing off, he looks to his older brother for assistance- who helpfully supplies, “Sad and drunk?”

Wasuke’s contribution- “Zero game- as the kids say?”

“Dangerous?” You pretend to think, assessing over the mountainous heap of a man. “Actually- only pretends to be but is really a softie inside?”

“Yes! That- wonder if he type is dangerous…pretend dangerous. I’d give her all the kids she’d ever want- all big…n’ glowing…” It was almost like the setting of the sun, and just as quietly that Sukuna’s dipping past the edge of consciousness. “And…mine…if she wants. Oh, only if she wants- I’ve gotta- hck!” He turns up slightly to you, “-gotta woo her first, you see? Gotta date her…marry…but- but most of all…” Words slowing, heartbeat still racing whenever he looked at you. “I…just want to love you, pretty girl.”

And with that, he was out like a flickered light. 

With only Wasuke, Jin, and Choso with his camera snooping through the doorway as witnesses for when you’re snaking a hand down to the phone bulging in Sukuna’s pocket. Quickly entering a few coordinates and a date. 

And a heart emoji.

.

.

.

“Oh- oh, shit, mama.” Sukuna’s tongue lays over the sheeny insides of your thighs, throat muddled with groans and the cloying taste of your slick gluing to his rovering mouth.

Honestly, fuck whatever tips his family had made him memorize before coming over for his lil’ ‘talk’ at your cozy apartment, as promised. Because the two of you had barely made out two or three words before Sukuna found himself sprawled on his back on your bed. 

Your knees framing his face, your clothed cunt right near his mouth.

Right near where he’s dotting your skin with hot, open-mouthed kisses that make your entire body tremble. Whimpering over your shoulder, “D-didn’t think you’d be such a tease, Kuna.”

“Because this isn’t real.” He’s breathing out, as if he’s just so sure of that fact. As if he can glide his ringed index down the dampened slit of your folds and drool- because this feels like a dream n’ he was going to savor every moment. “Fuck, there’s no way this is-”

And just at that very moment, he’s craning his head up further between your pretty, pretty legs. Greedy tastebuds darted out just so he can catch the treacly splat! of your leaking slit.

Dampening his tongue n’ drooling all down the edge of his tattooed chin, “Do you even know how many times I’ve imagined this exact moment?”

“Mmm- no-” You’re wrenching out a heady puff of air- spread on your front in the meanest sixty-nine. You gulp down your parched throat as you’re taking in the wet, bulging outline of Sukuna’s erection through his boxers. “But I can guess.”

He was just so big, aching- 

Ryomen Sukuna wasn’t just rock-hard. He was hard enough that he’s sure his round, bawling tip was damn near ready to fall off, twitching oh-so-painfully in his pants as he’s snapping back your soaked panties with a wet thwack!

Just a glimpse of the wet haven you were hiding and he’s groaning throatily, “Guess-” He hisses, close enough that the straight end of his nose slides down your puffy pussylips. Nudging your panties to the side and sniiiiiffing you, “You’ll never be able to guess how badly I want you, pretty girl.”

Never.

Never would you have even been able to register that within mere split-seconds, he’d have one beefy arm looping around your hips to make you sit on top of his mouth.

Slamming the edge of your cunt against his chin, plopping your full weight down until he’s nose-deep between your quivering legs. “Fuck-” Letting the first gush of your saccharine juices flood his throat, lips against lips. “Fuck fuck fuck- what was I even…saying?”

“W-wait–” Your breath hitches, spine arching into such a perfect curvature. You claw onto his meaty thighs in an attempt to regain balance, “You won’t be able to breathe like this, Sukuna-”

“You think I fucking care?”

It’s spat - spat - out right against the swollen nub of your clit. Hazed crimson irises rolling to the veeeery deep, dark depths of his skull at the first long gliiiide of Sukuna’s tongue from top to bottom of your pussy. 

Cheeks hollowed the very moment he’s pushin’ himself even closer, “You think I ngh- can care about anything else?” The very moment he’s tugging you back down - with the full force of his upper strength, hard enough that your heated aches with raw, primal bruises. “Be a good girl n’ put that hah- pussy on my face. Fucking- sit-”

“I don’t- fuuuuck—” Fingers twitching, it’s all you can do to fumble with the drawstrings of his wettened boxers. 

Thighs shaking at every flicker of his slimy tongue swirlin’ and stirrin’ every inch of your outer pussy. Your head muddles with the realization that Sukuna’s tongue was just so long that he could lap at your glisten hole n’ still have enough length left over to snag on your clit. “You’re not going to be the only hah- one-”

Whimpering, you find your eyes blurring up each time the ridged texture of his tastebuds glissade between your folds. Curlin’ in just past the elastic circle of your entrance-

And you’re gasping - but you don’t know whether it’s because of the lecherous intrusion or because of the way you’re pushing down Sukuna’s snug underwear to free his massive cock.

Reddened, swollen.

He’s bulging all solid and girthy that it makes your hole clench ‘round his flexible tongue. The cutest ruby-red at the top of his shaft, forming a gradient all the way down to his tight, heavy balls. Mentally, you’re counting about nine- fuck, maybe even ten damn inches that hit the end of your chin as he springs up. 

And from where you’re straddling him, you can make out what looked like a matching thick, black band of ink around his bulky hilt. 

Letting the polished pink crown of his cockhead smear out a generous dollop of pre, you’re teasing your tongue out just enough to taste the salted caramel taste. 

“You’re so…” Sinking him past your spit-slicked lips, his swabbing mushroom tip is just so big that your jaw aches just by looking at him. Just by fitting him inside, right until his drivelling slit- “-s-sho big, Sukuna.”

“Fuck- fuck-” He’s spitting into your cunt and you find yourself flinching, hard enough that his pearly white canines nip at your thighs and you cry out.

And he’s only holding you back - not letting you shift your restless hips even a single centimeter as he’s eating you out like a man dying of thirst. Dry tastebuds lavishing himself with wads of slick, Sukuna’s stuffing your tight hole with the entirety of his tongue. “You’re m-making me drool.”

You swear you’re feeling the thin line of his wet spittle stain the front of your cunt, whimpering around his bulbous cockhead. “Made ya stutter, too, Sukuna.”

“Ohhhh- talkin’ smart, are we?” Snickering, he lets off a loud spank against the front of your pussy - one that makes your bones reverberate, and your mind numb. Pushin’ back to ride the circling girth of his tongue, to ride him. “Why don’tcha put that mouth into use elsewhere?”

Elsewhere - his cock was so hot and throbbing between your swollen lips. Just the slightest slip n’ slide makes it feel like he’s pulsing all the way at the back of your throat. 

Creamin’ out a spray of syrupy precum that slides down your tongue, “So big- too big.” And yet- it was just so cute how you’re suckling him like your favorite lolly, eyes criss-crossing when you’re trying to take more. He couldn’t even bottom out. “Mmm– dunno if it’ll even all fit.”

“Well…” 

The way he’s drawling out in a smoky tone makes you ponder that this won’t be ending well for you. And Sukuna’s dark chuckle hits your cunt in a murky gust, “You’re takin’ it in from here—” Just at that sultry second, he’s crowning the snug circle of your hole with two fingers. 

Making you break out with a shrill waiiil as he sinks in the thick, calloused curves of his fingerpads. Letting such thick digits stretch you out fully, make your head spin. “So shut it n’ take this looong fucking cock, ma.”

All that it takes for him to plunge a few more throbbing inches past your maw, oh-so-big that you’re drooling down the sides of your mouth already.

Striking the edge of your throat and making you choke on his sheer size, your nose wrinkles as you’re tickled by the curly tendrils of his pinkish hair. “This enough or you want three, pretty girl-”

“I-”

Letting out such a cloying squelch that spurts from your pussy once he’s teasin’ your entrance, “Not you, mama. She wants three.”

Moaning away wildly after each pump of his fingers- Sukuna doesn’t even have to try to dip into each nook n’ orifice. Slamming to fingers down to each knobbly knuckle with a resounding slam- “See? See?” 

So cockdrunk on the feeling of his velvety tongue that you’re only partly registering the way his vocals are higher. Unsteady. 

The way you’re clamping your dewy walls in a cute, squelching smooch ‘round his digits makes his voice fucking crack. “J-just take it a bit- fuck- deeper.” Mindless little half-thrusts up into your heated mouth like he can’t even control it- “You can swallow it up like a reeeeal good girl, can’t you?”

“Mmm—” Purposefully letting off your pretty sounds all over his fleshy girth, “Yes- yes yes yes- more.”

“More?”

“More.”

As if he wouldn’t fucking ruin you if he could. 

“You want more?”

“Y-yes- oh.”

Only to be gifted with such a rude slap of his doughy palm, “Not you.” And he’s waiting for the soppy squelches leaking out from your cunt, the way you’re talking to him from your swollen lips just to continue. 

Squelch after squelch.

Your pleas only spur him to tug at the sweet, softened ring of your cunt, latching his lips over the flexing muscle. “If you say so—” Crooning, you can feel the cold hiss of his metallic rings upon the insides of your thighs. Sukuna’s biceps shifting as he starts to tug them off–

“A-actually-” You’re popping off of the strawberry-pink curve of his cocktip with a plop! a few glittery strings of pre and spit still connecting you lewdly to it. “…Keep them on?”

“Oh. Ohoho- you naughty lil’ thing.” He’s swatting over the slope of your dripping wet pussy n’ giving your clit a good pinch with his ringed fingers. “You like it like this- like- this-?”

He’s spitting out each word into your cunt, thrusting the barrelling tips of his fingerpads to graze just below your pulsating g-spot. “All those mouthy lectures?” In vulgar tandem strokes with the thwack! of his heavy, curvaceous balls slapping your chin. “And you wanna take it like- this- mama? Ohhh, it just makes me wanna…”

Trailing off, Sukuna’s body is just bulky - oh-so-tall that he can bend and reach down to cup your throat with his one free hand. 

Digging five of his fingertips into the side of your throat as he’s holding your neck and squeezing- feeling the cylindrical outline of his cock bulging your poor mouth. Up n’ down, up n’ down- he’s feeling for the precise moments his plump cockhead lodges at the back of your throat. 

“Who’d have known the cute lil’ teacher would be such a slut f’me. Cat got yer tongue, girl, orrrr—s’it just my dick?” Humming over your clit, he’s adding a fourth finger that swabs at the texture of your gummy walls. 

“F-fuck off- ngh-”

“Wha’s that? Try- try and say my name?” Squeezing. Only feeling your ripped, pathetic vibrations. “Can f-feel myself over here.”

With four neatly pushing fingers. 

Pulling back with a sluuurp–! Slowly, just so that you whimper that the knobs of his joints, just so that he can thump right on the target of your g-spot and make you cry out in cute bliss. “So s’only fair that I’m over here, pretty girl.”

“Yes- yes yes yes—” Words bubble out and slur out of your maw, in unison with such sloshing spurts of saliva. 

You’re drooling everywhere - from both pairs of lips. Your mouth over Sukuna’s hard, vein-covered erection, glazing his puffy lines of veins with sap. And your pussy slide-slide-sliiiiding down the gaping area of his mouth, wide open and eagerly lapping up each sloppy drag of your hips.

Faster.  

And now that Sukuna had actually found your most favorite spot, he couldn’t fucking stop.

Not when each whack at that same exact spot makes you splash your sweetened slick all down his throat, not when you were clenching your walls and cryin’ out at the frigid brush of his thick rings.

Again and again, he’s probin’ his crowned fingertips to push against the insides of your pussy, “Don’t think m’gonna last ngh-”

 “Yeah-” And that’s not to say his tongue was letting you off easy, either- simply aching with the feverish state of his movements. But it hurt Sukuna more any moment he wasn’t snogging your glossy cunt, n’ so he’s slapping your clit with a wet one-two. Spank after spank to make your hips jerk back and forth, “Whaddaya want? To cum? S’that it?”

Blubbering over the taste of his slick, sensitive slit, “Yes- yes, please- m’so fucking close.”

“Not. You.” Each word ended with two swats on your simmering pussy, you’re webbing his chin all down with syrupy sap. 

Moving off from your throat with a final squeeze, a bicep tightening ‘round your hips to squeeze you in place. “Not you- but you, pretty girl.” Slickly gliding back and forth all over your pried-open cunt, all over the quivering rim of your hole. Everywhere and anywhere. “Why don’tcha talk louder?”

And it’s not just you riding his tongue dry - it’s Sukuna bucking animalistically upwards, too. Pressing the ridges of his washboard abs up against your front, you’re just fountaining out so much sappy slick that it’s running down to the large mouth that he had tattooed across his stomach. As if both his ravenous mouths were gulping up each of your slick puddles. 

Crooning at the oversaturated squelch that spills out of you- he’s nodding like he’s never heard a sweeter sentence. Nudging his knuckles to bump against your g-spot, “If you say so—”

You don’t get to find out what he’s hearing - but you’re registering the gist soon enough.

Because by then Sukuna has his ringed index swiping your g-spot, coldly massaging that bundle of nerves. Hard. Sloppy. At the very same second he’s settling the fringes of his canines on your perky clit and streeeetching-

“O-oh my god I’m—” Keening out a whimper, your high runs you over like a rollercoaster. And you’re rocking your boneless body to and fro just as much, thumping your thighs into Sukuna’s sharp jawline. 

“Yes-” Clenching around his motions so hard that he has to fight to unstick his digits from the sides of your bubblegum walls, still fucking you through your lecherous high. “Oh, hell yeah, been so good for you, mama- why don’tcha reward me? Use me- hck- use me.”

As if you weren’t thrusting your cunt back into his face in a frenzy already, he’s using the arm holding onto your waist to keep you repeatedly moving. 

Tired-out. Fingers tugging into each crevice of your velvety walls. Cheeks aching and hollow where he’s putting such force on your throbbing clit to suck- “Ride my- mmmf-” Talking with his mouth full, “Ride my fuckin’ face raw- wanted to taste y’cumming on my tongue for so long.”

With your spine arched, you’re pulling off of the bulged tip of his cock just as he’s spewing out a slimy ribbon of ivory white. Just a single drivel of cum- just from the way you’re cumming. 

“God- god fucking dammit.” Sukuna spits, right into your cunt. And he barely even takes his eyes off of your slobbering pussy to snake a free hand down and plug his geysering orifice with his thumb.

Stopping himself promptly from cumming if it isn’t anywhere near your pussy.

But that didn’t mean he was letting you get away.

Oh, no- he’s still pulling you back with inclines of his head like a man addicted. Thoroughly drunk on the heady globs of slick that travelled between your legs, pushing and pushing himself upwards to glue his glossed lips all over your cunt.

You can feel yourself squealing with each lap of his scratchy tongue- the primal overstimulation too much that great droplets of tears take over your eyes. 

“O-oh– fuck- m’so sensitive, Sukuna.” You’re arching your back away- “I don’t know if I- oh!” Only to get pulled back down. Toes curling when this only spurs him to dive himself even deeper, flopping out the flexible end of his tongue to try n’ flit past your squeezing hole. 

Drawling, “Remember those fuckin’ sugar cookies? You taste- hah- even fucking better.”

Sniffling, your spine zings with a few more zaps of electricity as he’s starting to caress your sweetened g-spot once more. 

And the only thing you can do is try and pathetically pry his firmly-planted palm from his lengthy shaft, trying for the life of you to just get another taste-

“Oh. Oh.” Sukuna gasps from behind, pink brows raising. “I see what you’re doing, pretty girl. H-heh…hungry for more, are you?”

He didn’t need any further answer - because the way you’re cutely clenching to glaze his scouring digits tells him more than enough.

And before you know it, you’re finding yourself pulled off of his long, aching cock like some glorified ragdoll. Sukuna was just so large - in every sense of the word - that he could manhandle you with only one arm. 

Clinging onto the side of your waist as he’s sitting up, he makes you straddle the twitchy length of his cock. And now that you were seated upon his lap- oh, could you admire him.

Ryomen Sukuna was a fucking masterpiece. 

From the bands of tattoos circling his biceps, his wrists, straight down to the plush of his sculptured thighs. “Like what you see?” He tilts his head cockily down at you, slouching sexily back on your wooden headboard to let you take in all of his tensed core. 

Glistening pecs all temptingly large, abs ripped. 

“M’gonna get those pretty haaah- fucking initials of yours tatted.” He’s tapping the prominent side of his left v-line with a polished finger, “Right here.”

Climbing further upon his lap, you rest your ass cheeks back against his swaying cock, bobbing so hard n’ proud between your sheeny thighs. Pouting, “Only if you fuck me, Kuna— ngh-”

“Kuna? Tch- you see that lil’ tattoo here, mama?” He sounded as if he was shattering, and he’s leaning back so that you can take a goood, long look at the circular tattoo on his base. Nuzzled by the tufts of his pinkish happy trail, and his tender underside - but it was still there.

Like a target. And Sukuna’s thinking the exact same thing, “You’re gonna take it riiiight- till- here-” Lodging the swollen end of his shaft to plug your hole, it’s such a tiiight fit as he starts bullying inside. “Until- hah-” Feeling a hand down your tummy, your womb. “-here.”

He was going to fit himself until your pretty pussy won’t be able to forget him.

And it takes only seconds for you to be clawing onto his tattooed deltoids for dear life, feeling the inner parts of your thighs slip n’ slide down his own with perspiration. You scramble with the stringy, slightly-torn fabric of your panties still on- “Kuna- Su–Kuna, this-”

“Nah, let it stay.” Snickering, he claws onto the top of your scalp. “You have much…heh- bigger ngh- problems ta worry about, pretty girl.”

Bigger - his prolonged shaft was simply ravaging your walls. Plumply ballooned-up enough that his veiny layer rubs your sweetest spots without even meaning to, and you’re just seeing stars with every inch deeper his mazing cock spears through. “Fuck- fuck, it really is big-”

“Mhm– and you’re going- to take- it all.” Times like this he’s wishing he had just about four fucking hands. Because one’s pushing down, down, down on the lolling top of your head, the other’s pushin’ your trembling thighs apart just so you could straddle his meaty hips. “All hah- say my name. Say my name while you take it-”

And he always did love the way you said his name.

The way you’re letting free a few bubbly spurts of saliva as you’re babbling away–”Sukuna- Su-” Throat clogging up with so many sobs of utter bliss, “Kuna—”

“Again with the ‘Kuna’- s’not my name, silly girl.” Even though each sound of that slurring nickname makes him twitch against your deepest insides. 

But you can’t even hear him properly, eardrums distantly popped until the only thing you can feel is the thump! of your heartbeat between your legs. And the way that his reddened, slick-glazed tip was thrashing your tight insides, “Kuna- ngh, please, Kuna. Wan’ it a-all hck! Inside.”

The swabbing girth of his cock was so fat that he has you stupid with just his size, biceps bulging as he’s pressurizing down on your head. “God-” And you can only blink pathetically once he’s bringing up his free hand to your blurry line of sight. Hissing, “Bite down-” Lips smirking as you plant a kittenish bite, he fucks up into you once to make your force increase. “Bite down harder and take it.”

He wasn’t wasting any time - he didn’t have the fucking patience.

He barely even had the sanity to tease you and edge you for hours on end like he’d always wanted to. Instead fucking up into you like a damn animal- he’s swatting your cunt with the edge of his throbbing cock. Spitting through clenched teeth, “O-oh, if yer gonna ask for all of it then m’not playin’ around, ma.”

You sink your teeth in and nearly scream into the flesh of his forearm, gnawing down right at his tattoo. “Mmmpf- big- nghh–” Unable to fucking take it, the only thing you can do is arch your hips deeper and let his pummeling rams spike your poor insides.

Hitting the very back of your cervix with a wet thwack! that makes your eyes damn near bulge out of your head.

He…bottomed-out. 

“Lemme check now…” Taking a single peek at the way his hilt was all covered up by your bloated folds until he couldn’t see that tattoo anymore. “S’all in.”

And the towering man wasn’t celebrating once he did - he was pumping all his fleshy inches into you like he’d gone feral. 

Eyes dazed and hooded, mouth frothing with a line of silver drool - Sukuna grunts after each singular gliiiide of his watery orifice drawing down the bottom of your pussy. Sloppy. “F-fucking hell, never felt like this- what the…”

“Are you okay- oh god nghh–”

“M’fuckin’ more than okay.” Spitting out crassly, Sukuna swerves his hips off of the rickety bedsprings to drag his cock harder down your cunt. And it just felt so delicious to have his swollen veins stir up your walls, “S’just— who let you feel this good?”

Your honeyed cunt has made him way too pussydrunk that now he’s tattling out everything from his melty mind. And you can only whine– “Heh-” One hand grazing his scorched ear, “You’re blushing, Kuna- better not be ngh- tapping out on me.”

“Tapping out?” Punctuated by a hard spank against the door to your womb - exactly where he said he would be - and then a harder one against your mapped-out g-spot. “Me? Me tappin’ out?”

Blinking through the splotchy whites sparking in your vision, “Y-yeah- fuck!”

SPANK!

Oh-so-hard, he’s swatting your pussy with enough stinging force that it makes glittering drops of slick splash across his slamming palm. “You n’ this smartass pussy are gonna see.” He’s gritting through dangerously grinning teeth, “There’s a fuckin’ reason I’m Ryomen fucking Sukuna.”

Because he’s rude - and he fucks even ruder.

Pounding away upwards into you like he doesn’t care if he’s bruising great purple bruises at the bottom of your cervix. The mattress creaks in fervent protest after each gyration of his hips, “P-please-” The only thing you’re mewling out like a broken record, “I-it just feels so…”

Trailing off, your movements are sluggish as your hand starts to slither down between your rutting legs. Yearning to just touch your neglected clit-

SPANK!

“Oi- and who’d ya think you are to touch- hngh- my pretty girl?” He’s grinning, manhandling you in an instant. Before your candied brain can catch up, Sukuna has both your arms pinned behind your back, chin hitting his cushy pecs. “I’ll touch her when I feel like it-”

Such a fucking tease, at the constant timing of his slimy mushroom tip spearing your cunt like a headlight- Sukuna lifts off one of his hands downwards.

Replacing your own with his roughened fingers, he pinches your poor clit—“Sh-shit m’so sensitive there- keep going, Kuna–”

And at this point you weren’t just drooling you were sheening the entirety of his smooth pectorals with a shiny polish. Letting it smear down the side of your cheek as you drunkenly lean on them like pillows, “Chehhh-” He’s spitting out, staring down at the glistening glaze dripping down to his bumpy abs. “Tha’s supposed to stay inside, pretty girl.” 

“I-inside?” Dazedly, the only thing you can think of were your rummaging insides, the way that Sukuna was fucking you like he hated you.

But it was the complete opposite. And he’s draggin’ on your clit, giggling to himself like he’s in love as he watches you huff n’ puff. “God you love it like this- c’mon, ngh- teach, milk this fucking cock- why don’t ya?”

“I-I am-”

SPANK! 

“Harder, mama, make me feel it.”

With a right spank to emphasize his sentence, he’s jostling his hips upwards so you’re left throwing your head back at the full, stretching impact. Unable to even handle the slightly spring recoil that comes with striking your cervix, he’s bouncing you on his pelvis. 

“S’this what you thought about every- hah- time you saw me?” Taking hold of your neck for a brief moment, he’s spitting doooown your throat. “Wantin’ me to fuck this- ngh- pussy raw?”

And the locked restraint on your neck helps bend you into the perfect geometrical curvature to stare up at him as he collapses forwards. Hot breath wafting your features, you whimper- “Y-yes.”

“Not you.”

“Kuna.”

“I’ve been dreamin’ of this for aaages now-” His clammy forehead crinkles as he’s scratching down your clit with the rough texture of his happy trail. Leaving it all stinging n’ raw to make sure the impact is extra sensual as Sukuna rubs over a slooow ‘K’ right on top. 

Rutting into your poor cunt so hard that the skin surrounding his v-line was all reddened- and he can’t help but take one look and moan. “M’getting that tattooed.” Watching as his mean, curvaceous cock molded your walls constantly to him. “Oh- trust when I say-”

And then a ‘U’

“Fuh-fuuuuck, please-” It almost feels like you’re begging for your damn life by now, lungs ripping with moans every time he’s thumping up. You ride your hips in a sexy figure-eight and feel the way Sukuna’s thumb trembles on your clit. 

A wobbly ‘N’

And you already knew what was headed next- oh, you were already prepared. 

But what you weren’t ready for was the completely vicious way that he’s accelerating his papping hips, so fast that the dark tattoo nuzzling your entrance was almost a blur. Thump after thump- 

You’re falling over until that symbolic inking of a widely-opened maw on his stomach licks up your core. Body twitching with white hot flashes of something electric running through your veins, “F-fuck- fuck, s’not gonna last-”

“S’that soooo—?” Sukuna asks down at your pussy to confirm, and only after a few ‘uh-huh’’s does he bore into your stupidly heart-shaped eyes. Tongue lolling straight out for him to lap up into his own mouth, “She says you’re close-”

A firm ‘A’

Another SPANK!

“-and I say you’re cumming already.”

“Wh-what…”

He’s ending off with a perfect heart shape rolled over your clit. What’s that spell- he’s asking mentally. 

Only for you to mewl wantonly as if you’d just heard. “Kuna- Sukuna- Yes- yes m’cumming m’cumming—” 

It’s like you’re enveloped in a tidal wave - you didn’t know where your orgasm started and where it ended. Just that Sukuna’s moans break into something octaves higher as he fucks you through your bliss.

You claw down the expanse of his flexing back with each burst of pre splattering your gooey insides. Toes curled, eyes all teary. “I-it’s so- hck! Feels too good…”

Turning you into absolute mush every time he pumps his thorough inches into you- and the mean fingers on your nub just tug n’ tug.

And it’s only after a few more of your shrilling whines that you’re still feeling the hot entrance of his shaft plummeting through, your walls squeezing ‘round his flared tip. “I want you to cum, too, Sukuna.”

“F-fuck.” He lets out, softly.

Cupping his attractive face, if you thought you were gone then you weren’t ready for the way that Sukuna looked. Cheeks burning hot and red, mouth parted with overspilling drool, brows furrowed into such an expression that it almost makes you feel shy.

Repeating those very same words, you start sloppily swervin’ your hips straight to his. “Cum inside m- ngh, please?”

All this time and his cute lil’ teacher was still minding her p’s and q’s. 

So, of course, when you’re asking him that nicely- it’s the least he could do to listen. To let out a final, vulgar stroke that has him spilling over the edge.

In great, piling heaps of ivory cum that puddles at the bottom of your pussy. There’s so much of it that your ears ring with the lecherous sluuurp–! as your cunt walls suck up every last steaming drop. 

You can feel it trailing down the insides of your thighs like a waterfall and keen, “Just like that, f-fuck…” Almost like you’re hypnotized, you drag one of his much-larger hands to palm the outside of your tummy. “Can feel it all the way here.”

“O-oh my god…” He’s groaning, eyes drifting off to the back of his head as soon as you’re meeting his tempo. Slamming down to rob his aching balls, milking him all dry - you were overspilling and it still wasn’t enough. “Y’really are a dream.” 

And there’s something about the way he’s sluggishly brushing away a stray bead of perspiration from your temple. Something about that lazy, half-lidded look in his eyes, the complete n’ utter reverence in his tone as he asks- “So…s’your type ‘dangerous’, mama?”

Almost…shy.

Oh, it hits you. He’s pussydrunk.

You’d made big, bad Ryomen Sukuna completely and utterly pussydrunk.

To the point where his studded ears flare a deep crimson once you giggle, “Mmm- pretend dangerous, Kuna.” His eyes shine. You think back to that night at the Itadori household, “And I also remember something about quadruplets?” 

It’s then that Sukuna whimpers. 

Not even pulling out. Not even considering such an impossible feat for even a split-second before he rolls your weakened body over.

Hovering over you now, it’s so easy for his beefy arms to tug your legs over his shoulders. Still shaking. Still suffering from the aftermath of your orgasm as he’s holding them tight and bending down, down, dooooown.

Straight into a mating press. 

Oh, your breath catches.

“Before I pound you until you can’t haaah- walk, mama-” Uncharacteristically, Sukuna gulps as he shifts his crimson eyes away from you. “-m’I giving you quadruplets that’ll have my last name?”

Now that was a round-about way to ask someone out- and he knows it, too. 

But it only makes you shuffle up onto your elbows on the now-ruined sheets, sticking to you like glue. You place a lingering peck on Sukuna’s wobbly, overstimulated lips, “Mm- I love you, too, Kuna.”

Oh, how he loves you. He almost cums right then and there. 

Fuck.

He does. 

.

.

.

“You.”

“You.” Yuji narrows his eyes down at the sight of Ryomen Sukuna towering over the busy preschool pick-up. Trying to look over his broad shoulders for any sign of his father, “Huh? But dadda said he was coming to pick me up today?”

Sukuna gingerly scratches the back of his head, “Yeah, well…listen, twerp- I mean, kid. There’s something I need to-”

Only to be cut off by a dramatic gasp—“Oh no- Did dadda go to jail just like you-”

“No,”

“Did he drive fast-”

“No.”

“Did he drink-”

“No-”

“Did he slash tires-”

“Maybe once?”

And fuck- he really didn’t understand tiny children, because explain to him why the pink-haired boy starts bawling in his arms. Pitiful enough to draw the glares of parents wrenching their own children away from the perpetrator, loud enough to draw the sweet concern of you.

Walking from your station saying goodbye to one other student, “Yuji what- oh!” You’re pressing your lips together to contain your smile as you happen to see who was throwing Yuji on his shoulders to soothe him. Bouncing him lightly until he smiled- and you did, too. “I didn’t expect you so early today, Kuna.”

“Yeah, well.” He’s using Yuji’s palms to cover the pinkish ends of his blushing ears, “Decided I wanted to see ya off from work today.”

Now past grief and straight into utter nosiness- “Wait- what do you mean ‘see off’.” He gasps, “Is she going to ja-”

“Brat-”

“What your uncle means to say, Yuji-” Playfully pinching his chubby cheeks, you try to ignore the gawking stares of every other one of your remaining students as you promptly turn to face Sukuna. Giving him a sweet, sweet peck on his. “-is that you’ll be seeing a lot more of me around.”

Another gasp - well, multiple.

One from Itadori Yuji, who gapes, open-mouthed between you and his uncle - as if wondering how he ever managed to bag you, and wait does that mean you’re his auntie now?

About twenty from your crowd of students, right along with a few whispers. 

“Hey, isn’t that weird Mr. Mugshot?”

“So that’s why Mr. Mugshot was always red- eugh! In my momma’s dramas they don’t get together, they just die.”

Fushiguro frowns, “I would rather die than watch him like this. Gross.”

“Caviar.”

Walking up from the group, Fushiguro tugs on your skirt. Innocently - but Sukuna could feel the evil intent. He just knew that boy was a villain. “Inumaki asks whether you mind that he sets fires, miss.”

What the fuck is with the fires-

And then finally - three distinct, unfortunately familiar gasps that make Sukuna dread turning around. Struggling against it, even as his nephew tugs on his locks of pink hair with a delighted squeal- “Dadda–! Bubba–! Gramps-”

You smile, watching Choso take flustered pictures of his uncle. “How the hell did you even win her over? All of these are going in the blackmail folder. Maybe your wedding presentation too.”

Sukuna bites back a shy blush- turning it into a scowl, “Maybe…”

“Well, I’ll be.” Wasuke nods his head in approval, “All thanks to the ah- ‘wingmanning’ as the kids say. I’ll be expecting at least three grandchildren in the future, sonny. And when I say ‘future’ I mean in nine months-”

“Dad! It’s too early for that.” Jin, ever-the-voice-of-reason, gives you a breezy handshake. “Congratulations- by the way.” And it’s all soft. It’s all sweet- that is, until you’re trying to pull your hand back and he only tightens his grip. Smile still tightly in place, “I will be the kids’ godfather, by the way.”

Settling an arm around you now, You and Sukuna don’t know whether to laugh or stand in shocked silence as Jin finally sets you free - but you don’t have to make the choice.

Because the annoying, grating voice of Todo Aoi breaks through—“Noooooo– my bride!” 

A/N. Hope you have a lovely week <3

Plagiarism not authorized.

[conglomerance]

stepping into the comfort of your home, nanami is met with a shrill cry from his four year old.

following her cry, he rushes to your room, mind cascading with the absolute worst scenarios he could walk into.

and upon opening the door, he’s met with a rather unusual atmosphere.

you sit leaning against the headboard, a smile on display whereas your daughter is crouched by the foot of the bed, a photo in hand while sobbing uncontrollably.

confusion etches a puzzled look onto his face and he steps into the room ‘hey..? what’s going on’ he asks, loosening his tie just in time for him to catch his daughter as she runs up to him.

leaning down, he picks her up and plants a small kiss onto her hairline, her small body shaking with each sob.

he hates seeing his girl cry like this.

his hands stroke her back in hopes to calm her down ‘hi angel girl, why’re you crying hmm?’ he asks.

he feels her nod a “no” into his neck.

the cries still continue and he looks to you for help. a sigh leaves your lips ‘i was showing her our wedding photos and she started crying because she wasn’t invited’ you try to hide your grimace, because in all honesty, this situation was hilarious.

‘oh’ kento says, a small smile on his face as he turns your daughter’s face towards him ‘sweet girl can you look at me? please?’ he murmurs.

his little girl lifts her head from his neck, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand ‘why was i not invited?’ she asks, her doe eyes starting to fill with tears once again.

chuckling at this, kento pats down her hair and smiles at her ‘you weren’t born yet angel, otherwise you know for sure you would’ve been there’

this seems to have consoled her a tad bit ‘really?’ she asks.

‘really’ he confirms, placing a kiss onto her cheek as he places her back on the bed, her sobs coming to an abrupt stop.

your girl has this thing where she’ll listen to anything and everything kento says. if her dad says it, it must be true.

she goes back to looking through the albums, cheeks still a bit damp and red from all that crying.

you scoff at this ‘i told her the same thing at least a 50 times, but no, she only takes your word’ you get up from the bed, walking over to him.

he pulls you in by the waist, pressing his forehead against yours ‘well, then this concludes our last week’s discussion on who her favourite is’ he smirks.

‘hmph, yeah okay’ you roll your eyes, as you feel him plant a kiss to your temple.

and suddenly-

‘you went to school together!? without me!?’ your daughter shrieks and her lips wobble, now looking at your and kento’s high school album.

oh shucks.

(rblogs are appreciated but this is not proofread so do w that info what you will🤟🏼)

[conglomerance]

TWITTER LINKS JJK !

☆ cw : nsfw twt links w your favorite jjk men. afab reader. minors do not interact. have your age visible on your blog.

TOJI FUSHIGURO

will it fit?

he loves playing with ur sweet and sensitive pussy

size kink

KENTO NANAMI

gentle fingering

he loves to eat you out

riding his thigh

CHOSO KAMO

he’s so sensitive

loves to worship you

doesn’t admit it but loves teasing

GETO SUGURU

long nights in his room when no one’s around

you’re his good girl

this is soo geto listen to the way he moans

٠ ࣪⭑ © kkageyamx 2025 all right reserved. you may not copy, reproduce, modify, create derivative works, or translate what i write.

[conglomerance]

"TELL ME WHAT TO DO."

summary: life has never been better since marrying Nanami Kento—every second feels like something you wouldn’t trade for your favorite food. But who would've thought that even after 3 years of marriage, you both still haven’t had sex?

warnings (18+): MDNI. husband!nanami x wife!reader, angst to smut, explicit sexual content, P in V, unprotected sex (wrap it up), reader is DESPERATE, insecure, demanding, no usage of 'y/n', dominance, masturbation, he pulled out but she wanted creampie!!!!, fingering, handjob, breeding kink, pregnancy thoughts, “daddy” used in reader’s inner thoughts, begging, choking (light), edging (light), they're both a freak for eo, cursing, praise kink, thoughts of kids, soft dom!nanami, he talks u through it gng 💋, reader is very whiny, pet names, mature themes, intimate sex if u blink, vulnerability, strong language, etc. (lmk!!)

author's notes: bro rhis took me like 2 weeks cuz of depression 🥀. I'm barely surviving!!!!!! I DIDN’T edit this so if there r typos or shit... js pretend u didn’t see them ok 💔 love yall twin!!!s!!. Also dw I see those requests piling up in my inbox—keep ‘em coming . I genuinely LOVE reading ur ideas, even if my brain is slow at the moment. OK ENJOY READING

word count: 5.2k (not proofread)

Your thighs clenched. Again.

It has been clenching for so many hours that they’ve gone numb. You shift under the soft blanket, the air thick with the scent of your husband’s cologne lingering from earlier, and it makes your stomach twist with frustration.

You’re soaking. Again.

It’s pathetic, really. How easily your body responds now—how even the ghost of his touch, the memory of his voice rumbling low in your ear as he tells you how proud he is of you, makes your cunt throb.

crazy, right?

Your husband. Your fucking husband. The man you've been married to for years. Who’s seen you at your worst, held your hair back while you threw up from period cramps, memorized the way you like your coffee, babied you, kissed your stretch marks, and still acts like you’re the only woman to ever walk this earth.

And still, after all that—he hasn’t fucked you.

Not once.

Not on your honeymoon.

Not on your anniversaries.

Not during those quiet, late nights when you're curled up in his lap, drunk on wine and love, whispering every filthy thing you want him to do to you.

Nothing.

Never.

You’ve made out, sure. He’s fingered you maybe once or twice a month, always with the kind of slow care that made you want to scream.

You’ve given him a few handjobs, watched him cum in your grasp while he grunted your name and bit his lip so hard it bled. But that’s where it always ends.

That’s where it always stops.

Because Nanami Kento, your perfect, maddeningly composed husband, is gentle. Too fucking gentle.

So gentle it’s driving you absolutely insane.

He says he wants to wait.

Says love is about time.

That he wants everything to feel right—not rushed, not pressured, not like he’s using your body just because you’re married. He says you’re not a thing to be taken. That he wants to love you, not consume you.

It would’ve been romantic. hell. it IS romantic. At first. That patience. That unwavering control. You thought, ‘Wow, this man is made for me.’

But now?

It's been years, and you’re left curled up on the couch at 03:54… flushed and needy, wrapped in one of his shirts with your thighs pressed tight and your fingers covered in your own slick.

And no matter what you watch, no matter what you read, no matter how deep you fuck yourself with your own fingers—nothing feels like him.

Because you don’t want your fingers.

You want his tongue.

You want his cock.

You want his hands pinning you down, his teeth grazing your throat, his voice low and wrecked in your ear while he finally lets himself have you the way you’ve both been dying for.

You’ve tried to seduce him. Girl, have you tried. You’ve worn those little lingerie sets he bought for you, tried riding his thigh in nothing but lace. Tried whispering all your filthy little fantasies in his ear, hands sneaking down his pants, lips trailing down his chest.

But every fucking time, it ends the same.

You straddle him.

You grind.

He kisses you slowly.

You can feel him—his hard, thick cock pressing up against your dripping heat.

And just when you think this time, he’s finally going to snap—

He stops.

A knock at the door.

A call from work.

Or worse—he pulls back, looks at you with those gentle fucking eyes, cups your face, and says something like, “Not tonight, sweetheart. I don’t want to rush this.”

And what the fuck are you supposed to do with that?

Your heart aches with how much you love him. Truly. Every day with him feels like living in a dream. He treats you like royalty—makes you feel adored, cherished, like no one else even exists. He never forgets a thing. He compliments you constantly. He’d die before hurting you.

But when you’re ovulating and every nerve ending is on fire, when your skin is begging for his hands, and your body is aching for him to break the rules he set—when you’re on the edge of tears because you’re so painfully, brutally, unapologetically needy—all that love starts to taunt you.

Because it’s not enough.

You’re 99% content. You really are.

But that 1%?

That one, tiny, aching percent that never gets touched? That part is starving.

Sex.

You couldn’t hwlp but feel a little pouty every time your friends launched into another one of their steamy stories—laughing, swapping details, comparing notes like it was the most casual thing in the world.

You’d sit there with your lips pressed into a tight smile, nodding along, trying not to let the emptiness in your chest show.

It wasn’t like you wanted to spill your own secrets—if you even had any. Sex is supposed to be private, intimate, something you wouldn't just toss into a group chat like gossip.

But still… The silence on your end wasn’t a choice. You had nothing to share. No experience. No stories. Just a head full of filthy thoughts and daydreams that kept you up at night, especially when he crossed your mind.

And it’s eating you alive.

You slam your laptop shut, fingers still slick, frustration bubbling under your skin like lava. This isn’t just arousal anymore—it’s anger. It’s longing. It’s desperation laced with hurt, laced with doubt.

Does he not want me?

Does he not think I’m sexy enough?

Does he not feel the same ache I do?

Tears threaten to burn in your eyes, but you blink them back.

No.

Fuck that.

You weren’t going to cry because your own husband wouldn’t fuck you.

You were going to make him.

Your hands found his tie the moment he walked into the bedroom, tired from work, shirt slightly undone, hair a little tousled—the sight of him only made the fire in your gut explode harder.

“My love…” you breathed, your voice nearly shaking as you tugged him down, fingers curling in the fabric of his tie like a lifeline.

A low groan escaped his lips as you pulled him flush against you, your legs locking around his waist like a vice, yanking him down onto the bed without hesitation. The soft thud of his weight on the mattress was drowned out by the pounding in your chest, in your pussy, in your damn soul.

“Kento…” you whined, voice cracking into something that sounded more like a sob, more like please. Your whole body trembled beneath him, needy and raw and exposed.

You were so fucking horny it was hard to think—hard to breathe. Everything felt too hot, too loud, too full of him.

His hands found your hips, grounding and warm. He squeezed them gently, like he always did—so fucking gentle—and you wanted to scream.

“…yes, honey?”

And then you felt it.

He pressed his crotch to your soaked panties, the hard line of his cock dragging against your swollen folds, and you moaned—a broken, uncontrollable sound that came from somewhere deep in your chest.

It wasn't enough.

It was never enough.

“Ken..” you gasped again, hips grinding up to meet him, shameless and desperate. “Please—fuck, please—just fuck me. please.”

Your fingers gripped his shirt now, trembling. “I can’t take it anymore, I can’t—I need you, I fucking need you. Not your fingers. Not your sweet words. Not your soft kisses.”

You looked up at him, wild-eyed, tears threatening again—not from sadness this time, but from the sheer force of everything you’ve buried.

“I need your cock, Kento. I need you inside me. I need you to fuck me until I forget my name. I need to know you want me like that, too.”

He looked stunned. Lips parted. Hands frozen.

He kept looking into your eyes. Deep—like he was staring straight into the core of you, trying to read every emotion you didn’t know how to say without crumbling.

“Darling… we—”

“Oh, is this the part where you tell me we have to wait?” you snapped, “Is this where you say you don’t want to rush our relationship? Where you tell me this can’t be about lust? That you want to wait until it’s the ‘perfect time’?”

Your hands clenched around the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer and yet pushing with your words, with the venom dripping from your tongue—born out of pure desperation.

“Are you seriously about to do that again, Ken’? Because I swear I’m gonna lose it.”

“N-No… I mean—”

You shook your head, the burn in your throat threatening to spill into tears, but you swallowed it down because you weren’t sad

You were furious.

“I get frustrated, Ken.” you growled, barely holding yourself together. “I get so mad like I could fucking scream, like I could cry and break things, and I hate it. I hate that I feel this way about you.”

You choked on your breath, the words pouring from you like they’d been waiting at the edge of your tongue for months.

“I get so fucking turned on when you don’t touch me the way I want. When you keep doing this thing where you kiss me like I’m made of porcelain as jf I’ll crack if you fuck me like you want to. And it drives me insane because I know you want to. I can feel it.”

Your hands slid down his chest, your fingers trembling as you pressed your palm against the hard, obvious bulge in his pants.

“You’re hard, Ken’. Every time. Every fucking time. You get like this and then you just—stop. You stop and you say something gentle and sweet and then just nothing happens.”

He didn’t move. Didn’t speak. He just listened.

“Do you even love me, baby?” you whispered, voice breaking. “Do you even want me? Do you want to fuck me, too, or is that just me?”

“Am I not attractive enough for you? Is that it?” Your voice cracked, your eyes locked on his, daring him to lie—begging him to give you something.

Still, he didn’t interrupt. He didn’t lean in to kiss you and hush you like he always did. He just watched, his jaw tight, eyes burning with something deeper.

Because he wanted to hear it. All of it.

What else did he even make you feel—just because he wanted to be patient? Just because he thought patience was love? When it only made you feel neglected, starved, and completely out of your mind with need?

He was too quiet. Too still.

The silence pressed heavy between you both, louder than any shout, any moan, any begging you’ve ever done.

He just stared, his hands still on your hips, his eyes unreadable—but burning. You couldn’t tell if he was angry, or hurt, or just holding something back with every ounce of control in his body.

And that silence?

It fucking crushed you.

Your throat tightened. You hated how your eyes started to sting again, tears threatening to spill even though you swore you wouldn’t cry. Not in front of him. Not over this. Not over the fact that you practically threw yourself at your own husband and he still wouldn’t fuck you.

You looked away, trying to blink the tears back, trying to swallow the humiliation clawing its way up your throat.

“I—I shouldn’t have said anything..” you whispered, voice barely there. “Forget it. Just forget it. Let’s just—go to sleep or something, okay? I didn’t mean to—fuck, I didn’t mean to ruin everything, I just—”

“I’ve always wanted to fuck you.”

Your eyes widened.

Your breath caught.

“I’ve always wanted to fuck you ever since the first time I saw you.”

Your eyes snapped to his.

“I wantwd to bend you over the second I heard you laugh.” he went on, voice shaking now—not with hesitation, but with restraint.

“I wanted to have you moaning my name in some dark hallway before I even knew your name. You were wearing that tight fucking skirt and that smug little smirk like you already knew I’d fall for you—and I did. I fucking did.”

“I even wanted to know how good it would sound if you moan my name the moment it left your lips for the first time.” Your breath hitched at his words, your thighs involuntarily clenching.

“You think I don’t want you? Baby, I wake up hard just from dreaming about you. I jerk off in the shower thinking about what your pussy would feel like wrapped around me. I have to force myself to stop every fucking time we make out because I know that if I go too far, I’m not stopping until I’m buried inside you and making you scream.”

You whimpered out loud. You couldn’t help it. He chuckled low, breath heavy against your lips, his cock grinding slow against your soaked core.

“You don’t know how many nights I’ve spent fucking my hand to the thought of you—legs spread, tears on your cheeks, begging for my cock.”

You were trembling now, your nails digging into his shirt. “I thought I was protecting you...” he admitted. “I thought I was being gentle. Loving. Waiting until the right moment. But fuck, baby, I didn’t know I was hurting you by not taking what we both need.”

His hands slid under your shirt, palms hungry against your bare skin.

“and for that… I'm really sorry, I really mean it.” he murmured, his hands slid up under your shirt—warm, wide palms trailing up your sides until they found your breasts, and he groaned.

It was guttural, instinctive, like he couldn’t believe he’d kept himself from touching you like this for so long. He palmed you through your bra at first, then tugged the fabric down, letting your tits spill into his hands.

“Fuck…” he whispered, voice ragged. “Look at you.”

Your hands flew to his—gripping them, grounding yourself. They were so big, so steady, and they felt like fire on your skin. You weren’t even sure if you were holding him there or trying to keep yourself from falling apart.

His thumbs brushed over your nipples underneath your bra which made your back arch, a soft whimper escaping your lips before you could even think to hold it back.

“Every time you’d crawl into my lap…” he growled, “or wear those little shorts around the house... I’d have to walk away, baby. I’d go to the other room and calm myself down so I wouldn’t bend you over the fucking couch like I wanted to.”

You whimpered again, biting your lip as your thighs rubbed together, aching for friction.

“I’d picture this.” he murmured, leaning in to kiss down your neck, nipping at your skin like he couldn’t stand not having more. “Your tits in my hands. Your legs wrapped around me. Your pussy so wet and hot and ready for me. I’d picture you on your knees, begging me to ruin you.”

“Ken—Kento..”

He pressed his forehead to yours again, his hands still full of you, his cock grinding harder into your soaked panties as he stared down at you like he wanted to eat you alive.

“I get it. So…” he whispered. “Tell me what to do.”

You blinked up at him, your lips parted, breath stuttering, heart pounding like a fucking drum.

“Tell me how to touch you. Where to kiss you. How to fuck you. I’ll do any-everything. just tell me.”

You looked up at him, breathless, pupils blown wide, hair a mess, nipples hard under his fingers—but your voice? It came out sharp, needy, laced with months—years—of built-up frustration.

“You wanna know what to do, Ken?” you hissed, your hips jerking up against him, chasing friction like your life depended on it. “Start by not stopping this time. Touch me like you mean it…” you snapped, grinding up into his cock, desperate and aching.

“No more slow fucking kisses and soft whispers and telling me to wait for the right time. This is the right fucking time. I’m wet, I’m throbbing, and if you don’t fuck me tonight, I swear, I’m gonna hump your fucking thigh until I pass out.”

“I’m not made of glass, Kento.” you added, wrapping your fingers around his wrists, dragging his hands down to your waist, then back up to your breasts again, encouraging him to squeeze harder—needier.

“You can be rough with me. I want it. I need it. I need to feel your cock inside me, I need to hear you lose control. I need to see what the fuck you look like when you’re not trying so hard to be perfect.”

You were rambling, but you didn’t care. You were trembling under him, wild with want, your panties completely ruined, sticking to your folds, your clit aching from how ignored it had been for far too fucking long.

“I want you to grab me. Flip me. Manhandle me if you fucking have to. I want you to fuck me until my thighs shake and I cry and scream and forget my own name—”

“You want all that?”

You grabbed his tie and yanked his face down, nose to nose, your lips brushing against his as you hissed.

“Yes. I want all of it. I want you, Kento. I want every filthy, pent-up, repressed, desperate thought you’ve ever had about me. on me. in me. right fucking now.”

He blinked once… then his mouth was on yours, hands everywhere, his tongue slid against yours, wet and messy and hot, swallowing the soft whimpers falling out of your mouth as he ground his cock right against your soaked panties, letting you feel how thick and hard he was for you.

One of his hands gripped your breast, kneading it roughly, finally without hesitation. The other slid down—quick, deliberate—and he moaned into your mouth when he felt the mess between your thighs.

“You’re soaked…” he growled. “my wife is fucking dripping.”

Your hips jerked when his fingers pressed to your clothed clit, just enough to make you jolt with a high-pitched cry. He smirked against your lips. “You meant it, didn’t you?”

“you whimpered, “stop teasing—fuck—fuck me alrwady.”

You were tugging at his belt now, frantic and shaking, and he let you—watched as you undid the buckle, pulled the zipper down, reached into his boxers with desperate, greedy fingers. You wrapped your hand around him and nearly gasped.

Fuck, he's huge. Hot, heavy, twitching against your palm.

“Y-You’ve been hiding this.” you choked out, stroking him slow just to feel the way his hips shuddered.

“I was- trying to be patient,” he rasped, voice nearly hoarse now. “But you—fuck… you test me every day, baby.”

His hand pushed your panties aside and when his fingers slid through your folds, his whole body shuddered.

“So wet for me… So soft.” he whispered. “I’ve dreamed about this—about the way you’d feel, how tight you’d be.”

“Then take meeee…” you pleaded, voice breaking. “I’m yours. I’ve always been yours, Kento. Just—please. I need it. I need you.”

He grabbed you by the hips and hooked your legs around his waist. Your panties were gone in seconds—ripped, tossed somewhere blindly across the room.

He positioned himself at your entrance, just barely pressing the thick tip against your soaked slit, teasing your hole. You whimpered, trying to push your hips up, but he gripped your thighs hard, pinning you in place.

“Tell me again..”

“I want you, Kento, so fuckinggg bad.” you breathed, nearly sobbing from the anticipation. “I want your cock. I want you to fuck me like you’ve been dying to. I want you to ruin me.”

That was all it took.

He pushed in, slow at first, making sure you felt every inch, veins, size—stretching you so fucking deep your back arched off the bed and a broken moan ripped from your throat.

“Oh fuck—Ken—Kento—”

He bottomed out and stayed there for a second, just breathing, gripping your hips like he was holding himself together with threads.

“You feel… incredible..” he groaned. “So tight—so fucking perfect for me.” Then he pulled out, and slammed back in—hard, which made you scream.

He didn’t give you a second to recover—he started pounding into you like he was possessed, like every bit of restraint and patience he’d shown all these years had finally exploded into raw, filthy need.

and you love it.

Your body bounced with each thrust, your thighs trembling as he slammed into you again and again, the sound of skin slapping and your soaked pussy squelching filling the fucking room.

“This is what my wife wanted so bad, right?” he groaned into your ear, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head with one hand, the other gripping your waist so tight it might bruise. “This what you were so desperate for, baby?”

“Yes—fuck—yes, Kento!” you cried, arching into him, legs shaking from how deep he was.

"Take it nicely, just like that..."

His cock hit places your fingers never could—each thrust pressing against your sweet spot so perfectly you were already close to tears. It was brutal, perfectly brutal, rough in the exact way you’d been begging for. You sobbed, the pleasure too much, the pressure too high.

“I’ve wanted to fuck you like this since the first time you touched yourself beside me and thought I didn’t notice.” he groaned, mouth against your jaw. “Thought I didn’t see the way your thighs shook, the way you whispered my name when you thought I was asleep.”

Your walls clenched around him hard.

“Oh my—Ken—please—please don’t stop!” you begged, barely able to breathe between moans. “Harder, please, harder—”

He let go of your wrists and grabbed your throat, just gently, enough to tilt your chin up so he could look you in the eyes while he ruined you.

“Look at me when you cum.” he growled. “I want to see your face when I make you fall apart.”

And fuck, you were so close—his cock dragging over your most sensitive spot with every savage thrust, your clit grinding against the base of him with every slam of his hips, your walls spasming already.

“Oh, my sweet baby…” he hissed, thrusting harder, deeper, his voice dark and breathless. “Cum all over my cock, baby—show me how much you fucking needed it.”

You choked on a cry, nails raking down his back, and your whole body tensed.

Then shattered.

Your orgasm hit like a fucking truck—hot, intense, blinding—your mouth wide open in a silent scream, tears streaming down your cheeks from how violently your body shook beneath him.

He groaned when he felt you clamp down around him, hips stuttering as he fucked you through your high.

“That’s it.” he grunted. “Good girl—such a good fucking girl—taking me so well—”

He pulled out just in time, groaning deep as he came all over your stomach and thighs, hot and thick and messy, hand wrapped around his cock as he finished, eyes locked onto your tear-streaked, fucked-out face.

You were gasping for air, still trembling, legs spread wide and twitching. “Why did you pull outtt, Kennn???” you whined, breath hitching, still sprawled out beneath him—skin flushed, soaked, trembling.

Your voice was hoarse, cracked with frustration and the remnants of your high, but still laced with that needy, bratty tone only he could pull out of you.

Nanami’s chest rose and fell, his breath still uneven, a strand of hair stuck to his damp forehead. “I-... Are you alright? I wasn't rough, was I? Did I hurt you—”

“Nooo.. answer my question, baby!” you whined as he blinked down at you, dazed, cock still twitching in his fist. And then, slowly, a smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“You were that desperate to get bred, huh?” he murmured, fingers tracing the mess he made across your stomach, dragging the thick cum over your skin in lazy, teasing circles. “You wanted all of it, baby? Inside?”

You nodded uncontrollably, whimpered while your hips twitches at his words, at the way his tone dropped.

“Yes, fuck, Ken… I wanted you to fill me up—why’d you fucking stopp?” Your voice crscked again as you glared up at him with glossy eyes, grabbing at his wrist. “You always stop. I wanted to feel it, feel you, all the way—”

He leaned in, crowding over you again, one big hand sliding under your ass to keep your legs spread, the other smearing more of his cum onto your inner thighs like he was marking you.

“Then tell me..” he whispered, voice low and gravelly, lips brushing your ear. “Tell me exactly what you want me to do to you next.”

You rolled your eyes, “Be roughhh, babyyy..”

“You don’t want me to be careful?” he growled, voice rough in your ear as his cock pressed right back against your soaked folds, already hard again. “Not now. Please.”

“Then I hope you’re ready to take every fucking inch of me.” He grinned, making you gasped as he slid back in—slow, just to tease, just to make you feel that first stretch.

You clawed at his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist again, heels digging into his back to force him deeper.

“Fuck—fuck, yes, right tbere—” you sobbed, already overwhelmed, already addicted to the way he filled you. “Don’t stop, Ken—don’t you fucking stop again! Fuckkk- Don't stop—”

He didn’t.

He gripped your thighs and snapped his hips forward hard, burying himself to the hilt with a growl that shook through your body.

The bed rocked.

The sounds—wet, deep groans, filthy moans—filled the room even more as he started thrusting, deep and rough and mean, but with that same love in his touch that made it unbearable in the best way.

One of his hands slid between your bodies, cupping your tits, squeezing them, thumbing over your nipple as you writhed beneath him.

“You feel this?” he grunted. “This pussy was made for me. Yeah? Take it slow… Take it like a good girl. I love you, sweetheart.”

You couldn't even form a response, your nails scratched down his back, your mouth open in a cry of desperate pleasure.

“I wanted you bent over every surface in our fucking house.” he kept going, hips snapping, “Wanted to watch my cum leak out of your pretty pussy while you begged me to give you more. I wanted to ruin you.”

“Then fucking ruin me, Ken!” you screamed, tears slipping down your cheeks again. “Mark me up, mess me up, make me yours—do whatever the fuck you want to me!”

He kissed you then—deep, harsh, tongue in your mouth while he rammed into you, over and over and over, chasing the orgasm he’d been holding back for years.

And this time?

He didn’t pull out.

You couldn’t bring yourself to admit just how badly you wanted him to fill you up — not because you actually wanted kids right now, but because the idea of it, of him, made something primal stir inside you.

It was embarrassing, really — how every time he interacted with children, something in you ached. The way his voice softened, the way his eyes lit up with warmth and patience — it drove you absolutely wild. Kids love him and his presence so much. You’d never imagined something so domestic could be so erotic.

Maybe it's just you though...

And yet, the thought crossed your mind again.. Would it be too much to call him daddy? The word itself felt cringe, almost ridiculous on your tongue, and you worried it might ruin the moment — that it might make him laugh, or worse, be turned off, and look at you differently.

So instead, you bit your lip and stayed quiet, your breath catching as the heat between your bodies lingered.

Your hands flew up to cover your mouth, trying to muffle the sounds that slipped out anyway. Sweat clung to your skin, your bodies still tangled in the aftermath of pleasure, his weight a welcome pressure atop you.

Every slight shift sent aftershocks through you, and you didn’t know if your body could handle another round. But deep down, you knew you didn’t want him to stop.

His breath was hot against your neck, each exhale fanning over your damp skin like a whisper of fire. You felt the way his chest rose and fell against yours, the weight of his body grounding you, making everything outside this room feel far away.

His fingers grazed along your waist, a slow, deliberate touch, as if he was memorizing you, all over, again.

Your thighs trembled around his hips, still sensitive from the last wave he pulled from you.

You whimpered softly, unsure whether it was from overstimulation or craving more. Probably both.

He tilted his head, catching the sound, and you didn’t have to look to know he was smirking—that teasing, dangerous smirk that always made your breath hitch.

“You’re so quiet all of a sudden, my love.” he murmured, voice thick and low, words dragging through your skin like silk and smoke. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

You didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Not with your heart hammering in your chest and your mind so full of him, of the way he held you like you were fragile and ruined all at once.

The word lingered on your tongue—Daddy—and the thought of saying it out loud made your thighs press tighter around him.

Embarrassment flared in your stomach, but it was quickly drowned out by the fire he lit every time he touched you.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, brushing the hair from your flushed face. “What are you thinking about?”

You bit your lip, eyes locked on his. Maybe it was the afterglow talking. Maybe it was the way he was still inside you, making you feel so full, so connected, like he could reach into your soul and leave a mark. But the truth bubbled up anyway, hot and real.

“I was thinking…” You hesitated, cheeks burning. “…how badly I want you. How badly I want to give you everything—even if I’m not ready for what that means.”

“You already gave me everything..”

His words struck something deep inside you—a tenderness that made your chest ache more than the roughness ever could.

You blinked up at him, eyes glassy, lips parted. You could feel how hard he was trying to hold himself back now, his usual teasing edge traded for something raw, reverent. Like he was worshipping every inch of you just by being there. Just by staying.

He brushed his thumb over your cheek, the pad of it catching on the slight swell of your bottom lip. “You don’t have to be ready..” he murmured, voice low and honest. “Not for that. Not for anything you're not sure about. But if you ever are…” His gaze dropped to your lips, then lower—to where your bodies were still joined. “Just say the word, and I’ll give you everything.”

You whimpered, the sound caught somewhere between need and awe. Your hips shifted instinctively, a silent plea for more, even if your body was already spent and trembling.

The heat hadn’t left you—it only simmered lower, deeper, curling in your belly like a secret promise.

And he felt it. Of course he did. The faint movement. The soft squeeze of your walls around him. The way your eyes silently begged.

“Still not done with me?” he asked, teasing but gentle. “I don’t think I’ll ever be done with you.” you breathed, your fingers threading into the damp strands of his hair.

“I want you to ruin me, Ken. Again. Slowly this time.”

“Then we’ll take our time.”

© [ adorekento ] do not steal, repost, or translate my work.

[conglomerance]

A Guiding Hand

Simon "Ghost" Riley x virgin!fem!reader

You call a sex hotline looking to get some relief Ghost is happy to help.

cw: MDNI (18+) masturbation, dirty talk, use of nicknames

special thanks to @robinfeldt98 for giving me this idea!

Your hands shake as you type in the number on your phone. Your roommate gave it to you when you told her about your…problem. But now you’re afraid to commit, to actually call the number that you’ve typed in. You just stare at it, willing yourself to hit the green button but you just can’t. 

You finally press it and the speaker button then hurry across the room, hoping that they’ll hear that no one is on the line and hang up. That’s what you’re hoping for but all of that goes out the window when you hear that husky, British voice. 

You slowly come over to the phone after he’s greeted you, approaching it like you would a strange noise in your home. 

“Hi.” You finally get yourself to speak and your heart rate picks up when you hear a deep chuckle. 

“There she is,” he replies. “What’s your name, sweetheart?” You know you should give your name out to random men over the phone but this is his job, certainly he wouldn’t do anything creepy with that information-at least you hope not. 

“Y/n.”

“Y/n,” he repeats, the name coming out slowly like he’s getting a feel for it on his tongue. It sounds so…hot when he says it. ”I like that. I wonder what it would sound like during climax.” It sounds like he’s close to the receiver and it’s almost like he’s whispering it to you in your quiet bedroom and it causes a shiver to skate down your spine. 

Simon is never usually this forward. There’s usually a script that he created to make the calls flow easier, but you seem so nervous that he feels like he needs to take a different approach. He’s treading lightly, not wanting to scare you off. 

He doesn’t know why, but you seem…different from all the others. You’re not flirting with him like everyone else does. This is clearly your first time and since he started this job, this is the only time he’s wanted to be sweet and gentle. 

“So what’s the reason for your call, y/n?” He asks, his voice somehow getting even lower and you feel yourself getting wet already. How is he able to do that? 

“Aren’t you going to tell me your name first?” You ask and he chuckles again, making your heart leap again. 

“Oh, where are my manners? I’m Ghost.” 

“Ghost.” You don’t want to admit that you like it. That you can imagine yourself moaning it over and over even though you’ve never done that before. You’ve never done-well, anything. And that’s why you’re calling. To hopefully get some relief. 

“It sounds even better when you say it. So, what’s the reason you’re calling, sweetheart?” The nickname causes your cheeks to heat and you can’t believe how easily you’re playing right into his hand. 

“Well-“ you cut yourself off, unsure to tell him the truth without sounding weird. “I’ve never-I’ve never had sex before.” 

“I see,” is all he says in response, waiting for you to finish your explanation. 

“And I’ve never…masturbated either so I guess I’m just looking for some relief. To take some edge off.” 

“Well, you’ve come to the right place. How would you like me to help? You call the shots.” 

“Me? Why me?” You hate the idea of being in control. You want to be told what to do and how to do it. You’ve never done well in an authoritative role and he clearly has all the experience so you’d much rather have him take the reins. 

“Hey, let’s take a deep breath, darling.” he says. “In,” he says and you both suck in some air. “And out. Good,” he says once you’ve breathed all the air out. “I’m happy to take control if you want me too. I’ll do whatever you want. I’m yours for the night.” 

No one’s ever said that to you. No one has been so…eager to please you in this way and now you kind of wish you knew what Ghost looked like. If he’s as hot as his voice. You’re sure he is but you don’t know why. You want him to be here with you, knowing that it would ease your mind to have him standing in front of you.

But maybe it’s for the best that this is over the phone. You’d hate for him to see just how nervous he’s making you. How hot your skin feels, how your heart hasn’t stopped racing since he answered the phone. 

You’re so grateful that your roommate isn’t home. The wall between your room is so thin that you just know she’d be able to hear everything and you shudder just thinking about  her overhearing this conversation. 

“You take the lead,” you tell him and even though you can’t see him, Simon is grinning from ear to ear, loving the suggestion you’ve just made. He’ll be submissive some other time. Tonight, he’s going to make you his whore. 

“I thought you’d never ask,” he chuckles. “So you’ve really never touched yourself? Let’s start there. What are you wearing, y/n? Something hot?”

“Unfortunately not. Just a big t-shirt and panties. I-I was about to go to bed but I just can’t sleep.”

 Even though Simon has no idea what you look like, the outfit you’ve described is making him hard beyond belief. He closes his eyes, imagining sitting you down onto your bed, spreading your legs wide as he kisses you gently, pulling down your panties before fingering you until you beg him to stop, until you clench around him, screaming his name as you orgasm. 

“Ghost?” You ask and he’s immediately snapped out of his little fantasy. For the most part, doing this doesn’t really do anything for him. He’s done it so often that it’s just starting to feel like his job. But the fact that you want him to help you get yourself off-and for the first time-well that fills him with the kind of confidence he hasn’t had in a long time. 

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he apologizes. “I lost focus imagining you in what you described. What I’d do if I was there.” His voice is deeper, more seductive and you feel your panties getting progressively more wet the longer the conversation goes on. He’s imagining scenarios too? God, you wish he was here. “Where are you?” 

“In my room.”

“Alright, first, I want you to lie on the bed.” You do as he asks and wait for his next instructions. Your phone is by your head now as you imagine him hovering over you, whispering into your ear. 

“Are you on the bed, sweetheart?” He asks, his voice so gentle and you feel your heart warm at how gentle he’s being with you. You just know that other men wouldn’t be so nice.

“I am,” you confirm with a nod even though he can’t see you. 

“Now I want you to take your panties off and spread your legs wide for me.” You slowly take your panties off and toss them to the side before pulling your t-shirt up to your waist so it doesn’t get in the way. You then spread your legs wide, already wet as can be even though nothing’s happened yet. That’s just the effect that Ghost has had on you, suppose. 

“And once you’re ready, I want you to press your ring and middle fingers together then insert them. Your pace doesn’t matter. Go as fast or as slow as you’d like. This is all about you.” 

You bring your dominant hand up and hover it over your face as you do as he asks, you then take a deep breath, letting your eyes flutter shut as you slowly bring your hand to your cunt. You make a sound when they make contact, just the tips of your fingers sliding inside. 

You make a whimpering noise at how foreign it feels and Simon feels his cock straining against his jeans at the pretty sound. God, he thinks he’s going to come. 

“Does it feel good, princess?” He asks in a whisper and this nickname is your favorite of the ones he’s called you tonight. 

“So good,” you reply, pushing your fingers in and out of your cunt. You can’t believe you’ve never done this before. If you had known how good it felt, you would have done it a lot sooner.  

“A little faster. Can you do that for me?” You pick up your pace and all of these noises you’ve never made before start spilling from your mouth as your free hand bunches up the sheets that are underneath you. You spread your legs wider to give yourself more access and it makes all the difference when your fingers get deeper, reaching a spot that feels better than all the rest. 

“That’s it, princess,” Simon responds. “Just like that. Doing so good for me.” He’s now palming himself, so close to whipping it out and getting himself off, but he can’t. This is about you and he doesn’t want to get distracted from helping. Maybe if you call again, he can convince you to switch roles. “Fuck you’re so hot.” 

You’re close already, you can feel it. The movement mixed with Ghost’s encouraging words is making your head spin, making you feel dizzy. This is unlike anything you’ve felt before and now you understand why so many people do this regularly. 

“Ghost, oh my god,” you whine as you finally reach your peak, back arching, your cunt clenching around your fingers. Hearing you moan his name, he lets out a little whimper, knowing that he’s going to take care of himself as soon as the call is over. He has no idea how the hell he’s going to be able to do any calls after this. It’s the best one he’s ever had and now he hopes you call him all the time just so he can hear your pretty nosies again and again. 

“Fuck,” is all you’re able to say as yoou’re coming down, your body sticky with sweat as you remove your fingers.

“You did so good,” he says, his voice soft again, sounding so different from just moments ago. “How do you feel, princess? Bet you feel so good, don’t you?”

“So good,” you agree. 

“Well, I guess my job here is done. Same time tomorrow?” His tone is making it sound like he’s joking, but he really does want you to call tomorrow. And every day after that.”

“It’s a date,” you reply, your voice sounding a little tired.

“Alright, same time tomorrow. I’ll keep the line open so you just call this number again. Now go clean up and get some rest, princess. You’ve earned it for being such a good girl.” The line goes dead and you just lie there, not sure you can go to sleep after that, already counting down the minutes until you can call Ghost again. 

part two

[conglomerance]

. ۫ ꣑ৎ . 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒

tw: fingering, cunnilingus, piv, titty sucking, slight bondage. all characters are 18+. minors and ageless blogs do not interact, you will be blocked.

gojo satoru loves sucking your pretty tits as you ride him. swirling his tongue over your perky bud, lightly biting it to get pretty sounds out of your mouth. your delicious scent evading his nostrils as you move up and down on his thick hard cock. "you ride me so good baby~ fuck... and these pretty fuckin' tits" smooch "...i can do this all day..."

nanami kento eats your sopping wet cunt for hours before he shoves his cock deep inside you. he needs to pull out multiple orgasms out of you. he tells you it's to give you as much pleasure as you deserve, but in reality, he just enjoys the pretty sounds you make, as you whine and moan his name, while you squirt all over his face. "ken-i can't... 's too much, haah..."

"just one more, darling. i know you have it in you. you can hold on longer for me right...?"

geto suguru loves fingering your pussy every morning. his special way of greeting you everyday after a good nights sleep. pulling your panties to the side or taking if completely off, wetting his fingers with his saliva and sticking it inside of you, thrusting his fingers in an out slowly, his cock twitching in his boxers from the wet sound of your pussy and your moans, as your still laced with sleep. "you're so wet for me. and so early in the morning too. but i can it can't be helped. isn't that right sweetie...?", he captures your lips in a gentle kiss.

toji fushiguro cuffs your hands behind your back when you're acting like a brat. thrusting inside of you in a steady rythmn, denying your cries of asking him to go faster. how would you learn your lesson if he just gives in to you. "you've been such a naughty girl, princess", he smacks your ass, your pussy clenching down on his cock. "you have to take your punishment. i'll go faster when you learn to stop being a brat."

choso kamo just loves playing with your pussy, mostly through your underwear. rubbing your clit with his thick fingers, hard and slowly as you let out cute breathes and whines. he could just stick with this without having to be inside you, especially on days where your tired from your daily activities. he comes inside of your panties leaving them wet and sticky with his cum and he makes sure you fall asleep that way. "you look so cute like this, angel. you don't know what you do to me..."

sukuna ryomen who absolutely adores watching you ride him reverse cowgirl. your ass that he loves oh so much so close so he can smack and caress it. the way your pussy takes his thick cock so well. the jiggling of your ass cheeks as you take him all the way to the base like the good girl you are makes the gears in his brain malfunction. "you're taking me so well, baby-ahh- yeah, just like that" smack "fuck-don't stop . don't stop until i tell you to, pretty"

𝐂𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐍 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑

[conglomerance]

Give Me More Than Just Some Butterflies

Pairing: Steve Rogers x grad student!Reader

Summary: You begin to learn the shy Steve Rogers from your art class isn't so shy with you. Read the setup for these two here 🫶

Warnings: Age gap, unprotected sex I fear, 18+

Word count: ~700

Your chest rises and falls as you take in and let out slow, steady breaths. You’re sprawled out on your bed with Steve beside you, still half on top of you. His flushed, damp skin presses against yours. 

You can’t help but let out a quiet laugh, thinking to yourself thank God you let him take you out first if this was the return. 

But his first thoughts are somewhere else. When he finally speaks up, his voice is low and rough as he lifts his head to look down at you. 

“Was that okay?”

You slowly blink up at him, not immediately following what he’s asking.

“What?”

He drops his forehead against your shoulder and breathes out a small laugh. His hand on your hip squeezes gently. 

“It’s been a while,” he admits. “I feel like I got a little carried away.”

“Oh,” you giggle, but stop yourself not wanting it to seem like you’re laughing at him. He was a little rough, sure, but it was good. “No, I liked it.”

His look of relief is cute. He leans closer to you again, brushing his lips against yours. “Yeah?”

You nod and complete the kiss. “Yeah.”

His response comes in the form of trailing slow kisses along your jaw and down your neck. 

His deliberate movements coax a gasp out of you. “Steve–”

He smiles against your skin. “Hm?”

You feel the bed shift as he moves – His leg that’s resting between your own nudges against your thigh, guiding you to spread your legs and make room for him between them again. 

As you follow his lead, you can feel a faint ache that’s setting in from how thoroughly he fucked you the first time, but it’s not enough to impede your desire for it again. 

You tilt your head, giving him better access to your neck and collarbone. Your hand slips between your bodies to find him hard again. He lets out a deep groan when your fingers wrap around him, stroking gently. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he mutters. 

“Think you can handle one more round, old man?” You tease, referencing the first night you talked.

“See, I knew you were thinking about my age,” he scoffs. 

He rolls his hips, pressing his cock against your wet pussy. He gives you a second before thrusting into you in one deep stroke. A cocky smirk appears on his face hearing your loud moan and he lifts his head to watch a look of pleasure take over you. 

His name falls from your lips again, this time as a whimper. 

He groans, feeling your fingertips dig into his sides as you hold onto him. “God, you feel so good.”

He moves torturously slow at first, making sure you feel every inch of his cock dragging in and out of your tight cunt. He holds a hand against your waist as he sets a steady pace. 

Writhing beneath him, you arch your back, trying to feel him even deeper. “Please,” you beg. 

“Please what?” He asks in a teasing tone. 

“Fuck me, please.”

“What do you think I’m doing, sweetheart?”

Asshole.

“Harder,” you plead. 

He hums, acting like he’s thinking about it, and he ultimately decides to oblige. His lips meet yours again for a deep kiss as he snaps his hips forward, harder this time. 

As his movements become more intense, the room fills with the obscene sounds of his hips meeting yours and heavy breaths from both of you. 

“That’s it,” he grunts. “Just like that. Good girl.”

It doesn’t take long for you to feel like you’re right on the edge of coming for him again. You whine as the overstimulation begins to set it. 

“Steve– I’m–”

“I know,” he pants, fucking you even harder. “Let go for me.”

That’s all you need. Pleasure crashes over you in waves as you cry out his name. 

Your climax spurs his own. His hips stutter and his movements come to an abrupt halt as he spills inside you.

Silence takes over as you both focus on catching your breath again. 

It’s a chuckle from Steve that pulls you out of your blissful daze. 

“I think the question should be whether you can keep up with me,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

Through heavy breaths, you let out a laugh. “No fucking kidding.”

Tag list: @patzammit @thummbelina @pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc @astheskycries @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @turtoix @harrysthiccthighss @mrspeacem1nusone @geminievans1 @doozywoozy @americasass91 @dwights-new-plague @wwwmarissa92 @redhairedfeistynerd @whxre4cevans @aubreeskailynn @xoxabs88xox @before-we-get-started @chrissquares @christowhore @ice-dtae @mariestark @justile @rogersbarber @dilfbarber @payperhearts @vintagestarlight @miss-ariella @bemysugarbean @t-stark35 @seitmai @reginaphalange2403 @raelorns21 @mrsgweasley @pandaxnienke @brandycranby @pursuedbyamemoryy

[conglomerance]

Republicans: we can just have Elon Musk go to Wisconsin and give everyone money. He'll give them a million dollars. It's all legal as long as we hold power forever and can stop anyone from doing anything to stop us. All of Wisconsin is bribed, nothing can go wrong now

The invincible Susan Crawford:

[conglomerance]

JJK TWT LINKS

TOJI FUSHIGURO:

✿ he thinks you’re the prettiest with your lips wrapped around him

✿ toji’s favorite <3

✿ i just know he’s an eater

✿ “such a good girl f’me doll”

✿ overstimulation

GETO SUGURU:

✿ you look so pretty riding him <3

✿ he could never fuck a non sorcerer

✿ brat taming (:

✿ “let’s put on a show for our followers, yeah?”

✿ cult!wife duties

NANAMI KENTO:

✿ picking you up after work <3

✿ he’s so sweet, getting you prepped (:

✿ he couldn’t help himself when he saw you in the shower ):

✿ husband!nanami is ready for a baby

✿ punishment

CHOSO KAMO:

✿ you’re such a tease ):

✿ his favorite view <3

✿ it started off with helping you set up your pc

✿ jealous!choso after your coworker talked to you too long/:

✿ you sit so pretty on top of him (:

SUKUNA RYOMEN:

✿ prepping you for his true form (:

✿ mean sukuna ):

✿ such a good pet <3

✿ princess treatment (sukuna’s version)

✿ you have the prettiest arch

GOJO SATORU:

✿ Boat ride <3

✿ overnight mission

✿ typical morning (:

✿ the strongest

✿ oiled up!

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

pt. 1 here

enjoy(: remember to be logged into twitter! gn you little freaks

xoxo hachi

dividers by : @real-afterglow

[conglomerance]

My tip for trying to compartmentalize your emotions or desires is to realize when you're using hyperbolic shorthand for an actually realistic desire. I know realizing even that can be difficult sometimes but let me demonstrate

"I wish I was popular" -> I want to be noticed and engaged with, and I need reassurance and the feeling of connection

"I wanna delete my blog and ghost my friends" -> I want to act out in a visible way that expresses how frustrated I am / I feel overwhelmed with connections and need time to cool off

"I wanna do something reckless/dangerous" -> I feel trapped in obligations and am buckling under stress, I need a sufficient outlet and more freedom to exist in peace

Obviously there may be different kinds of feelings or needs under your particular impulses, these are just some fairly common examples of what you could be feeling. The harder part is trying to figure out what it is that causes this impulse, and even harder might be if you don't have control over the situation, and are unable to have your needs met. It's not always your fault if you're feeling bad, but realizing where it stems from can help you seek out new paths to relieve it. This is something I've learnt working in therapy.

The toddler in your heart has valid needs. But it is a toddler and will scream and cry about it. Learn to sit by until it's done and then ask if it wants a juice box or a hug

[conglomerance]

One piece links

> pls don’t read this if you don’t like porn links (PLS know these characters are age up I do not do minors)

~ Roronoa Zoro

Releasing his pent up anger

Something he’d do

Sneaking around in his room

Spoiling him

Showering with him

Putting his strength to use

~ Sanji

Showering with him

Helping him in the kitchen

Sneaking around

He likes seeing you in aprons

Something he’d do

Sneaking around in his room

~ Monkey D. Luffy

Scratching you out

Something he’d do

Feeling how far he scratched

Taking you on the back of the ship

Teasing you on purpose

Sneaking around with him

~ Shanks

Helping him after a long day

Putting you in your place

Sneaking into the back with him

Taking his time

Punishing you

Spoiling him after a mission

[conglomerance]

dadkuna and wife!reader being all lovey dovey and their daughter barges in to protect her mama😭

i don't usually write suggestive content on here but this made me laugh so here you go [there won't be a part two or a smut continuation of this, sorry <3]

the moment your daughter finally knocks out early, sukuna is on you. "you have no idea how long i’ve been waiting for this," he mutters against your lips, hands already sliding under your shirt. you smirk, pressing yourself closer to him, fingers curling around the zipper of his hoodie. "oh, i think i do." his eyes darken. "yeah?"

"mhmm," you hum, leaning in. "no meetings. no interruptions. no—" 

a bloodcurdling screech shatters the moment. before you can even react, something comes flying at full speed straight toward sukuna’s perfectly sculpted jawline. BAM. 

"WHAT THE FUCK?" 

"BAD WORD!" 

you and sukuna whip your heads toward the doorway. your daughter stands there, fists clenched, breathing heavily, eyes wild. "papa, leave mama alone!" 

sukuna, rubbing his jaw, glares at the object that assaulted him. it’s a labubu. he blinks. then looks back at his daughter. "did you just throw a fucking—" 

"BAD WORD!" 

"—a freaking toy at me?" 

"YES!" she stomps her foot. "leave mama alone, mean man!" 

you slap a hand over your mouth, stifling a laugh. sukuna looks at you, betrayed. "oh, don’t even," you snicker. "you made her watch wonder woman before bed." 

"so what?" he huffs. "the kid should have taste." 

"so—" you gesture at your daughter, who is currently braced for battle. "congratulations. you just made yourself the villain." 

"i’m her fucking father!" 

"BAD WORD!" 

sukuna groans, running a hand down his face. your daughter glares at him. "say sorry to mama!" 

"for what?" 

"FOR BEING MEAN!" 

"i wasn’t—" sukuna stops. inhales. exhales. 

"…fine," he grumbles, crossing his arms. "sorry." 

"hmph!" your daughter huffs, satisfied. "good!" then, with the self-righteous air of a tiny vigilante, she marches back to her room. you wait until the door clicks shut. then you collapse against sukuna, howling.

"shut the fuck up," he grumbles, rubbing his jaw again. "bad word," you mock, grinning. sukuna glares at you. then, suddenly, he grabs you by the waist, pulling you flush against him. "oh?" you blink, breath hitching. 

"kid’s asleep again," he murmurs, voice lower, rougher, hands sliding down your back. "what were we doing before that little cockblock?" your face heats up. "you were whining about not getting laid." he hums, pressing his lips to your jaw. "and are you gonna fix that problem, baby?" you smirk, wrapping your arms around his neck. "that depends." 

"on what?" 

"whether or not you get knocked out by another labubu."

[conglomerance]

the first time it happens, sukuna doesn't even react.

your daughter, a tiny little thing with a head full of wild hair that looks just like his but with your color, storms up to him while he's adjusting his tie. she's got a determined look on her face, a plastic figurine clutched in her tiny hands—a sonny angel doll, of all things.

"papa, hold," she demands, her chubby fingers working to shove it into the breast pocket of his pristine, custom-made suit. he looks down at her, red eyes blinking slowly. then he looks at you, standing off to the side, barely holding back your laughter.

"what is this?" he asks flatly.

"sonny angel," your daughter says like it's obvious. "he's cute. for you."

you make a choked noise behind your hand, and sukuna exhales through his nose. his baby girl, his tiny menace, is standing there with all the confidence of someone who has never been told 'no' in her life. because, well. she hasn't. so what does he do? he lets her shove the damn thing in his pocket. adjusts it a little so it's sitting neatly, because if he's going to have a tiny cherub-faced baby figurine sticking out of his suit, it's at least going to look intentional.

"happy?" he asks.

his daughter beams at him, gives his pant leg a firm pat like he's done a good job, then scurries off to continue whatever other toddler nonsense she was up to before this. you’re wheezing in the corner.

"don't say a word," he warns, fixing his cuffs.

you grin. "i didn't say anything."

cut to his meeting later that day. sukuna walks in like he owns the place (because he does), radiating his usual aura of dominance and unrelenting authority. his executives are already seated, tense and ready, knowing full well that sukuna does not entertain idiocy. but today? today there is something new. today, nestled neatly in the breast pocket of his three-piece suit, is a tiny, plastic baby figurine wearing a duck hat.

the entire room freezes.

one poor soul, likely new and unaware of how the corporate hierarchy works under sukuna, makes the grave mistake of letting out the faintest, almost imperceptible snort.

sukuna turns his head very slowly.

"who the fuck just laughed?"

silence. absolute, suffocating silence. the man looks down at his notes as if they might save him from impending doom.

sukuna leans back in his chair, tapping a clawed finger against the conference table.

"anyone else got something to say about my sonny angel?"

no one breathes.

good.

he conducts the rest of the meeting as if nothing is out of place, occasionally adjusting the little doll in his pocket like it's just another part of his attire.

by the end of the week, rumors have spread. no one dares to question the sonny angel. entire powerpoint presentations are given with the utmost professionalism while a tiny, smiling cherub peeks out of sukuna’s suit.

by the end of the month, it becomes an unofficial rule of the office. mock the sonny angel? fired. make a comment? fired. even looking at it for too long earns you a pointed glare.

and by the end of the quarter, the entire upper management team has started discreetly wearing their own sonny angels in solidarity. your daughter, completely oblivious to the corporate chaos she has caused, simply continues her toddler life, happy and content in the knowledge that her papa always carries her gift with him.

and sukuna? well. if having a tiny plastic baby in his pocket means seeing his little girl’s delighted grin every morning, then so be it.

[conglomerance]

Maybe you’re in the middle of what you prayed for.

[conglomerance]

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈ wanna be yours!

gojo satoru x shy!femreader

part 2

flirty!satoru didn't think much of you when he first met you. yeah you were cute and he saw you often behind the counter at his favourite coffee shop, but you kept to yourself that the only thing he knew about you was your name. next time you hang out with them, he was determined to at least get to know you a little better.

flirty!satoru started asking to go out with only you after a few months, which you weren't suspicious of. suguru had a lot of responsibilities, and shoko was always tired and preferred staying home, so you didn't think much of it when it was only the two of you going out.

flirty!satoru is always paying for you during your "hangouts". satoru will never let you pay for anything because he will always have the provider mindset (what a man).

flirty!satoru hates sharing clothes, even with a close friend like suguru. he's grown up as a spoiled only child so he hates any kind of sharing, but he will never say no to giving you his hoodies!! he is in love with the way his hoodie so is large on you that it basically engulfs you. he just thinks you look so adorable when you wear his sweaters.

flirty!satoru loves sleeping beside you. after a long day, he likes to come over and he doesn't care if it's on the bed or your couch, he loves snuggling up to you and feeling the warmth of your body against him. the first night you slept over at his apartment, you left early in the morning because you felt embarrassed so now satoru wakes up early to prevent you from doing so again.

flirty!satoru enjoys making you flustered IMMENSELY. everytime you hand him the house keys, he'll let his fingers slightly intertwine with yours, imitating hand holding. if you ask him to grab something from the top of the cabinet, he'll cage you in his arms before you get a chance to move out the way and he'll press his body onto your back before handing you the thing you asked him to get. his love language for sure is physical touch.

flirty!satoru who is so physically affectionate with you, it's like he'll die if he's not touching you in any way. he's quite sneaky too, when you're sitting on the couch beside him, he'll do the good ole "yawn and stretch" trick to put his arm over you. when you're watching a scary movie with him, satoru would pretend to be scared to get closer to you and if he's feeling extra bold, he'll hide his face into the crook of your neck, his lips being dangerously close to your skin.

flirty!satoru notices the way you try to take sneaky glances at him when you think he's not looking. he basks in the fact that even though you're not officially together, your eyes are always on him (the same for him about you ofc). sometimes he'll even look back at you and see if you'll continue the eye contact but he knows you'll turn away (he loves doing this because he thinks that it's so cute you can barely hold eye contact with him).

flirty!satoru is speechless when you get clingy with him when you get a couple of drinks in your system. after everyone left satoru's penthouse, you stayed behind, tipsy and unable to even walk straight. he takes a sit beside you on his couch, tilting his head to look at you trying to stay awake. you caught him off-guard when you crawled into his lap, you're situated in between his thighs with your legs crossed on top of his right thigh. you lean your head on his chest, and he instinctively puts his arm around your waist so that you don't fall back. you nestle your head into his chest and muttered, "you smell good".

as shy as you usually are, he wanted to keep seeing you like this. a side of you that only he can see - clingy and more outgoing (also very promiscuous but no one else needs to know).

flirty!satoru takes time out of his busy day to come pick you up when you're off, especially if you're working closing shifts. friends pick each other up all the time, what's the difference? it's not like satoru came all the way from the other side of the city, speeding the entire way, and running a couple of red yellow lights... he just didn't want you to wait for him outside where someone sketchy might come up to you.

after arriving in front your apartment complex, you offered him dinner as a thank you, and there's no way flirty!satoru would ever decline your cooking! after a hearty meal that satoru rates 10/10, he suggests watching this new movie suguru was telling him about.

midway through the movie you end up falling asleep, your head leaning onto the side of his arm. he can tell that you're uncomfortable with the position so he scoots forward on the couch, letting your head fall onto his shoulder and having you snuggle up to his arm.

satoru ends up closing the tv soon after and carrying you to your bed. he fixes the hairs that are covering your face and pulls the duvet over you. after ensuring that you're sleeping comfortably, he goes back go the living room to close all the lights when he notices your phone ringing with notifications.

omfg forgot to tell u guys but we finally saw the guy she was talking about 12:35 am

she wasnt lying when she said hes so fine 12:35 am

@[username] pls tell me he has friends 12:36 am

are you guys seeing or what!!! ;) 12:36 am

the groupchat you had with your close friends from work was filled with the coworker who you closed with gushing over satoru. she went on about how he waited for you at the front of the shop, that he opened the door for you, and even introduced himself as a "close friend" of yours (with a wink).

satoru couldn't help but smile at your phone, looking through all the times you've mentioned him to your friends. he writes a quick message to your friends before closing the app. like he came to do, satoru closed the lights all around your apartment then made his way to you, wrapping his arms around you and falling asleep soon after.

flirty!satoru who after that night, becomes more confident in his advances towards you. he's been so affectionate that even suguru and shoko are questioning your relationship. suguru notices that satoru's homescreen is not his fav celebrity, but rather a candid pic of you! he also saw a glimpse of your contact name on the white-haired man's phone. had suguru known better, he would've thought the two of you were already dating.

flirty!satoru was hyping himself up the next week to actually ask you out. he was going all out for you, with a small hike to a cliff that overlooked the skyline of city and there would be a picnic blanket with your favourite foods inside the picnic basket with arrangements of your favourite flowers surrounding the blanket, the whole shabam!

he calls you.

and calls.

and calls.

but you don't answer.

it was getting closer to the time that he needed to be on the way, but you still weren't answering. he was about to leave his penthouse when he received a text from you.

hey satoru I think I need some space right now. I'll text you back when I feel okay, hope you understand. 6:27 pm

and for the first time in his life, flirty!satoru's stomach dropped.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

hello! this is my first time posting on tumblr and ngl i'm kinda nervous but whateverrrr I have so many wip about the jjk men i need them out of the notes app NEOW this is also not proofread :)

[conglomerance]

synopsis: VISUAL links including all current l&ds men!...finally including caleb!

tags: penetration, bodily fluids, cum-play, blowjobs, cunnalingus, doggystyle, riding, bondage, toys, vulgar, incredible explicit, straight up porn

a/n: make sure to login to twitter (x) prior! I apologize in advance if some videos are soon to be taken down from twitter, this is out of my control but I hope you see this post before that happens! THIS POST CONTAINS VISUAL SMUT!

𝙓𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙧

When he comes over

From the back

Teasing

Until your ass is red

Trying to wake you up

𝙍𝙖𝙛𝙖𝙮𝙚𝙡

Taking control

Deep sea exploration

Delicate hands

Panties to the side

Foreplay

𝙕𝙖𝙮𝙣𝙚

In his labcoat

Riding him

Sitting on his face

In the car

In his office

𝙎𝙮𝙡𝙪𝙨

Handjob

Infront of the mirror

his hands…

Just the tip

Devouring you

𝘾𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙗

Skyhaven apartment

Pounding you in a headlock

Recording with him

Catches you using toys instead of him

fucking you from behind

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

<- want some more?

[conglomerance]

nanami kento, very serious looking guy working in the finance department, having a little crush for the new girl who just got hired by the creative team.

you didn’t even know him, not until the christmas dinner party at the office. you were fairly new, only been working there for four months. working for a big company had not always been your goal, but when you got offered the position freshly out of college you couldn’t say no. it was well paid, in the city center, and allowed you to put your degree to use - which was a big plus, since finding a good job lately seemed to be stressful for people with an art degree (or so you were told by basically everybody).

when you first saw him, your heart skipped a bit. he looked insanely good, with his white shirt hugging a toned chest and short blonde hair falling slightly on his forehead. he was talking with your creative project manager, big hands gesturing softly while speaking and a light smile on his face. it was the first time you ever laid eyes on this beautiful man, and as soon as you realized you were staring a bit too hard, he had already made eye contact. eyebrows slightly furrowed, his eyes met yours. before you even knew, you were walking up to him.

“hi” you said, breathily. you felt your hands sweat and damned yourself mentally for behaving like a girl seeing a cute boy for the first time. up close, you realized he must have been a little older. not too much but the confidence he exuded was clearly not the one of someone in his early twenties - nothing like a guy your age. your manager looked around, confused on why you were intruding in their conversation, and eventually asked “hi, y/n. did you need something?”

you blushed immediately, looking away from the beautiful man, realizing there was no good reason to justify your sudden intrusion. you just saw a good looking man and walked up to him as if nothing else was going on. “oh…” your mouth slightly open, your mind racing to find something appropriate to say.

“i think we have not been introduced yet.” his voice was deep and you felt it in your stomach, like music at a concert. your eyes darted up to the unknown man, nodding shyly. “right. my name is nanami kento, pleased to meet you.”

you felt your insides melt while shaking his big hand, mumbling your name and smiling softly. five seconds later, you pretended like someone was calling your name from somewhere where your other colleagues were and excused yourself, quickly leaving just like you did arriving.

watching you walk away, nanami let out a soft smile, hoping the man in front of him was not going to pay much mind to it. “oh, don’t worry about y/n. she’s young, and new. she’s still trying to find her way around here, you know?” your project manager laughed awkwardly, still wondering what was all that about. kento shrugged, watching you from afar. your cheeks were red and the grip on the glass you had in your hands looked incredibly stiff.

what neither you or your protect manager knew was that nanami kento did know who you were. he had noticed you, maybe on your first or second day, when you got lost and popped up in the finance department. your colorful sweater and laptop full of stickers looked very out of place and when one of his colleagues approached you, letting you know that maybe you had walked in the wrong office, you did turn another color from embarrassment and started profoundly apologize. he thought you were cute, and funny, but the more he got a glimpse of you in the hallways, the more he noticed you wherever he were.

the break room, the coffee shop in front of the office building, the elevator. he found you in every room, even if you didn’t even know he was there. it was like he couldn’t get enough of you, like looking at you from afar was something he had grown addicted to in such a short time.

he wouldn’t have called it a crush, but whenever he needed to print something he would carefully choose the printer on the same floor your office was on - hoping that, when walking by, your door would be open and that he could catch a glimpse of you. okay, maybe thinking back, there had been a few moments in which he felt very infatuated by the idea of you…

looking at you from across the room, while zoning out on the conversation he was in, and noticing how sometimes you would look back too, he told himself that yes, that was definitely a crush.

idk i love the dynamics of stoic boyfriend x artsy girlfriend. wtv??? i’m done .