itz-amani

[itz-amani]

biker!nanami wears a suit alright? He rides to work whenever he can and he’s not oblivious to the eyes of his female coworkers locked onto him. He’s very aware that they think he’s eye candy —you can look but you can’t touch— a pretty simple and universal rule, or so he thought.

So when you asked if you could ride with him he scoffed in your face. He was known to be a gentleman but women knew better than to even have the audacity to ask to ride with him. “What? I’m serious. I think your bike is cool.” You’d say, joyfully and he lifted a brow as he finished putting his helmet on. “Ugh, you’re lucky you’re cute and I have an extra helmet.” You smile, putting the black shoei helmet on before he tightens it for you. “Ever rode one before?” You’d say shake your head no and he speaks again. “Alright, ima sit. You put your feet on the peg and lift your left leg over to sit. You can either wrap your arms around my waist and lean on me or hold the tank.” With that said, you climbed up on the R1 and put your arms around his waist before he took off.

You didn’t think seeing your nice coworker Nanami in a suit with a helmet on and riding as his backpack would turn you on so much but boy were you mistaken. Your hand moved slowly down toward his clothed cock but before you could do anything he grabbed your wrist with his leather clad hand “tsk, can’t keep your hands to yourself, can you darling?” Kento speaks, coming to a stop. “I’m afraid not, sir. You’re just too damn irresistible.” That sentence alone earned you a one way ticket to heaven as Nanami scoffed again and made a u turn, going back towards his apartment instead.

“Little brat needs to be taught a lesson, eh?” Kento chuckles as he grips his tie —the one he bound your hands behind your back with— just a tad bit tighter as he pushed his cock relentlessly inside of your sopping wet hole, dripping with a mix of both yours and his cum. “What a pathetic little bunny you are, just the perfect stress relief I needed. M’gonna pump you full of my cum, hm?” He says breathlessly, spanking your ass a few times. The whimpers and moans you let out as you tightened even more around him were so sinful he swears he’d end up in hell from just the sound of it but it’d be worth it. “Hah- you liked that? Liked me saying I’d fuck you so full of cum you’d be leaking? Such a whore f’me huh?”

[itz-amani]

thinking about husband!nanami being obsessed with the idea of getting you pregnant. 18+ mdni.

cw; overstimulation, unprotected p in v, creampie, mentions of pregnancy

wc; 1.7k

-

you’ve lost track of how many times he’d made you come - how many time he’s come in you. even now, hours later, it seems like there’s no end.

not that you were complaining anyway.

“oh, baby,” he dragged, voice an octave lower than it usually was. kento had just come in you for the nth time, marking your walls with his white ropes.

he pulled out, leaning his head down to take a glance at his art. “what a pretty pussy. my pretty pussy.” your lips were swollen and puffy, blushed as his seed escaped your cunt, trickling down onto the bed.

he tsked, taking two fingers and scooping up your combined juices before shoving it back in.

you folded with a sob, biting on his shoulder. You head moved into the crook of his neck, taking in his natural scent mixed with his earthy cologne.

“h-ha, ken,” you managed to whimper, your hands weakly clawing at his shoulders. you were overstimulated and tired, unsure of how much longer you could handle him and his insane sex drive.

“doing so good f’me, honey,” he cooed softly, giving you a moment to recover before the next round. his free hand combed through your hair, a soothing motion he knew you loved. when he spoke again, it was like he was speaking to a baby. voice all sweet and gentle, one you couldn’t find yourself saying no to. “think you can go another round?”

he wasn’t really asking - he’d make you go another round.

he slipped his fingers out, causing a soft mewl to escape your throat. your hole hopelessly clenched around nothing as he brought his fingers up to his mouth, cleaning them off. he hummed contently, his fingers moving out of his mouth with a pop!

“we taste good together,”

what a filthy, filthy man your husband was.

“k-kento,” you looked up at him, a pout on your lips with dried tear stains. you hands moved from his shoulders to his neck, your fingers fiddling thing the hairs on the nape.

he looked down at you as you called his name - his heart softened at the sight. his precious wife pouting and looking up at him with doe eyes. your body trembled and shook, goosebumps rising as he trailed a hand down your arm. “yes, darling?”

“‘m tired,” you started, voice quiet and barely audible. “can’t-“

“ah ah,” he cut you off, “yes you can. c’mon honey, just one more round, please?”

how could deny him after he asked so sweetly? but you didn’t know what had gotten into him, why he was so hellbent on getting you pregnant. having kids wasn’t a new topic in your marriage, it’s been something that’s been discussed numerous times, but now you think you’re ready for it.

ever since you told kento “let’s have some kids,” (which was earlier today), he’s been pounding into you like a bitch in heat.

it’s just that he thinks you’d look so beautiful pregnant with his kids. it’s something he’s been thinking about for ages. kento knew you’d be the mother of his kids just a few months into dating.

and now he finally gets to live it.

he can’t wait to see you all round and glowing, growing his kids in your womb. he just knows that you’d be an amazing mother, it’s something you’ve been talking about, and it fills with him so much happiness.

fuck, he’s hard again.

“mmh-“ you whine into his neck as he takes your hand and it helps it wrap around his cock. his hand is around yours, helping you pump because your hands feel that much better than his.

and the whimpers of your name that leave his lips are so delicious, so delicate and full of the love he has for you. “just one more round, baby, please?” he repeats, voice breathy as you both pumped that veiny cock. “wanna get you pregnant so bad. last round, i promise.”

his hand left yours as he helped you on top of him, your legs straddling his as you hand continued moving up and down, torturously slow. kento looked up at you, his hand swiping a strand of hair behind your ear, a soft smile adorning his lips.

“so pretty,” he pulled your face closer to his, placing a kiss on your forehead. “so beautiful,” he kissed your eyelids, “so perfect,” the tip of your nose, “all mine,” before kissing your lips.

you swallowed up his whimpers and moans, you hand still resuming that unhurried pace. his lips fell open and you continued pecking them, a girlish giggle leaving you as a particularly needy moan of your name left your husband.

“just one more round, yeah?” he pulled his face away from yours, his eyes falling to where your hand tugged on his cock. the tip was an angry red from being so used and aroused, and when you swiped your thumb over his slit he thought he’d come right then and there.

“nghh, b-baby,” his hand grabbed your wrist, stopping your movements, “fuck, gonna make me come,” his voice was deep and gravelly, and you could feel the fresh pool of arousal at your cunt. “gotta come in you, honey, gotta give you some babies,”

kento’s hands moved to your hips, lifting them with a mumble (“lift your hips for me, sweetheart. there you go.”) as he let you line him up with your cunt. your cunt that was drooling with his come, making a mess on his thighs. but he didn’t care - the sight only turned him on even more.

you let yourself lower onto him, a desperate moan ripping through your throat, one that matched your husband’s.

“kenn,” you panted, already squirming, just from him bottoming out. the pleasure was too much for you and your overstimulated pussy. your head fell into the crook of his neck once more, using his scent to ground yourself.

“shh, you’re doing so good, mrs. nanami,” and there it was, his favourite nickname for you, “last round, sweetheart, you can take it,”

you had a feeling this wouldn’t be the last round.

but oh he was being so sweet, so nurturing and careful as his hands helped you roll your hips against his. your thighs shook already, goosebumps rising all over your skin as he did all the work even though you were on top. he doesn’t even bother to rub hearts on your clit; he knows you’ll come just from the penetration alone.

his heart is full of so much love and lust, breathless gasps leaving his plump lips as he feels himself hitting your cervix. so much love for his wonderful wife - his wife that lets him use her body over and over again without any complaints.

he bucked his hips up, a moan of ecstasy leaving him as a gasp of surprise left you. his strong arms now wrapped around your waist, pinning you against him as he bucked his hips up into you again, not letting you escape.

you took it like the good girl you were and it drove him mad.

“so good to me, sweetheart,” he leans his head down to your hair, inhaling the sweet, floral scent of your shampoo. kento closed his eyes, letting himself thrust into you faster and faster. he’s so pussy drunk he can’t think straight; he’s only focused on giving his wife some babies. “mmm-aah, mrs. nanami!”

each thrust brushed against your g-spot, a breathless pant leaving you every time it happened. you couldn’t think straight. you wanted it to stop, the sensation was tiptoeing the fine line between pain and pleasure, but fuck kento’s noises were like music to your ears. you’re so cock drunk, strands of incoherent babbles leaving your lips as he dragged his cock in and out of you.

you could feel yourself clench around him, a distinct whine leaving your lips as you felt that familiar coil in your stomach.

“gonna come again, love?” kento grunted, a singular ha! leaving him as his dick kept ramming into you. “it’s only been a few minutes, darling,”

“too much, ken, ‘s too much,” you sobbed, seeing a fresh batch of tears blurring your vision.

“you’re fine,” he decided, thrusting into you with a newfound fervour. “you can take it, honey, i know you can.”

and you do. because who are you to disappoint your loving husband? if he says you can take it, you can take it.

“that’s it, such a good girl,” your head spins with how proud he sounds. you could smell the salty sweat mixed with his earthy cologne. god, everything about him drove you nuts.

“it’s okay, baby, you can come,” he encourages you, one hand petting your hair, the other still wrapped around your waist. kento could feel like way your walls have been fluttering around him, one of the signs you were close. not to mention the way your body quivered and spasmed.

a few more thrusts and you were coming undone, your noises of pleasure being muffled against his neck. your chest heaved with each deep breath, doing everything you can to try and reduce your heart rate.

kento came soon after, his arms tightening around you as an attractive moan left him. thick, white ropes of his seed shot into your womb again, and he kept thrusting until he was sure his come was in you as deep as it could go.

“i love you,” kento whispered, kissing your hair since you kept your face in his neck. he bucked his hips into you again, testing the waters, and chuckled when a high-pitched whine left you.

“love you too,” you kissed his neck, still breathing heavily.

he didn’t pull out, not wanting his waste any of his come. instead, thrusted into you again, slowly, sloppily, his pussy drunk mind taking control of his body.

“k-kento,” you pleaded, dragging your nails down his chest as his pace gained momentum. “you said that was the last round-“

“i know, sweetheart,” fuck, his voice was so needy - your overstimulated walls fluttered around him madly. “but you just feel so good, and i wanna get you pregnant so bad, and h-hahh,” he moaned, cutting himself off.

and it’ll continue, night after night after night, until he knows you’re pregnant - and even then, it might happen after that, too. because kento is so in love with his marvellous wife, he only wants to make her feel good.

[itz-amani]

[itz-amani]

only ever yours

Nanami Kento hurt/comfort

Nanami Kento considered himself a controlled man—bound by self-discipline and logic. This control quickly lost its order the moment you became someone in his life. Nanami was a controlled man—but never when it came to you.

So curse him for being angry and irritated when he found out you went to a party he explicitly asked you not to go to. He had his reasons, but sharing them felt too childish, too insecure, so he never did. But now, after having picked you up, both of you sulking in the car, it felt too absurd not to say anything. 

He felt frustrated, that frustration evident by the way he didn’t say anything, by the way his glare was fixed on a non-existent threat. 

“I explicitly said no, didn’t I?” His voice cuts through the AC blasting in the car. “Why would you go?” His anger was palpable.

“Because you never gave me a good reason not to go! I didn’t know he would be there, and I didn’t know he would approach me like that.” You explain, frustrated yourself.

It wasn’t your fault that someone flirted with you��even if it was someone Kento despised. Because after all, how were you supposed to know? 

His grip on the steering wheel tightens, he lets out an irritated breath.

“I never need to give you a reason; when I say no, it means no. You listen to me.” He replies, firmly. 

Your face falls and your heart hurts. This wasn’t your Kento and this certainly wasn’t the man you felt safe around.

“No, Ken. You don’t tell me what to do and expect me to go along with it blindly.” You turn around to look at him, exasperated. “I’m not your pet.” 

He shoots you a reciprocal look.

“You think I don’t know that?” He replies, his voice restrained. “I’m fully aware of our dynamic. You’re not a pet, but you are my wife. Your safety and well-being are my responsibility.”

You almost scoff. Screw his responsibility if it meant he needed to hurt you doing it. You bite your lip, afraid of what you would say if given the chance and you look at him like you don’t know him. You turn away, looking out the window. The silence takes its toll again. 

He noticed the way you avoided his gaze, the way you shut down on yourself. But there was nothing more he could say. The quiet was thick and heavy. 

When you finally arrive at home, he looks at you and his expression softens, almost as if he was remembering who you were to him.

You get out of the car, making your way inside the house and to your bedroom to change and get ready for bed. He waits for you. He waits on the bed, ruminating in the ruins of what he had said.

Even if he doesn’t find the words to fix this tonight, he wanted you next to him. Because regardless of what you think of him at the moment, your safety was constantly on his mind. 

You come out of the bathroom and start heading towards the bedroom door.

He furrows his eyebrows, watching you leave. “Where are you going?” He questions.

“I’m going to watch a movie.” Meaning, you were going to sleep in the living room, away from him and he lets you go. 

After a while, it becomes ridiculous and he gets up to check on you, unable to sleep without you there. He notices you on the couch, your hands tucked under your chin, and the blanket barely covering anything. He sighs and walks towards the couch, crouching in front of you. 

He brushes your hair out of your face and looks at you for a moment, feeling tremendously more guilty than he did 2 hours ago. Eventually, he slips his hands under you and lifts you in his arms, carrying you back to the bedroom. 

You stir in his arms and your eyes flutter open. 

He speaks softly, a contrast from earlier, “Go back to sleep, sweetheart.”

You were sleepy, exhausted, and your eyes tear up at his soft voice. 

He looks down at you, his brows furrowed once more. His heart aches at the sight. His face relaxes as he sets you down on the bed before pulling you into his chest. His hand caresses your cheek, hoping the tears never trickle down your face. 

You’re looking up at him, “You’re so mean.” You say as your tears cascade down your cheeks. His hands make fast work to wipe them away. He looked torn.

His heart sinks at the comment and the guilt washes over him again. He cups your face with both hands, his touch gentle as he looks at you. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispers. He looks at your eyes, “Please don’t cry.” 

You cover your face in his chest and breathe in stuttered breaths, heaving. “You’re so mean, Ken. I hate the way you look at me when you’re angry. You say cruel things and you don’t listen to me.” Your voice breaks.

He holds you closer, pulling you in more. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, my love.” He adds, his voice filled with remorse. “I don’t mean the cruel things I say. I never meant to hurt you. I want to protect you but I’m not doing it right.” He kisses the top of your head, wanting you to feel safe again.

“I’m not a child, you know.” You say as you try to control your crying. Your fingers fiddle with his shirt. 

He looks at you for a moment and he sighs softly. 

“I know you’re not a child. I know you’re strong, and that you can take care of yourself. But the thought of you getting hurt or being in danger scares me. The thought of you being around those people scares me. You’re my wife, the person I love the most, I want to protect you from any harm, even if it hurts.” 

You’re quiet for a second. “I know.” You whisper. 

He stops the movement of your fingers, gently cupping your hands. He then cups your face, brushing away any tears. “I can’t help it. I can’t help wanting to keep you safe, wanting to prevent you from getting in any sort of trouble. I know it makes you sad, darling. But I love you too much not to protect you.”

Your lip wobbles and you turn your face away, unable to be sure that you wouldn’t cry. “I promise I’d never put myself in danger on purpose. I just wanted to go to the stupid party because I wanted to wear a pretty dress and it was stupid but I just wanted to see everyone.”

His expression softens at your words. 

“I know you wouldn’t, sweetheart. It’s just knowing that you’re out there without me that worries me and I act irrationally. And the thought of other men looking at you makes me-” He pauses, not wanting to continue. But it was evident: he was jealous, protective. “I can never think straight when it comes to you.”

“I’m only ever yours and you’re only ever mine.” You speak, looking at him again, wanting him to know that it would never be anyone but him.

He gazes into your eyes, his expression filled with so much love, it makes you want to drown in it. He leans closer, his hand on your chin tilting your head up.

“Only yours.” He whispers, his voice low and deep. He leans down further and captures your lips with his own. 

He pulls away, leaving almost no space between the two of you. “And you can always wear your little dresses for me.” He adds, brushing his thumbs across your eyebrows. 

You smile, a soft chuckle leaving your lips, and his face softens. Then and there, he promised himself he would never be a reason you couldn’t look at him like that again. 

aurelia

[itz-amani]

EHEHSHEHEHEEH

Characters from Lawak Kampus, a local Malaysian comic strip series by Keith.

[itz-amani]

whose house?

[itz-amani]

W. H. A. T

"kung pow penis," a phrase commonly used in reblogs to indicate utter disdain for OP, has twelve letters, each of which (traditionally) must be supplied by a different user. the unanimity of disdain indicated by these twelve unrelated users has strong parallels to the requirement of unanimity for a jury—also traditionally of twelve—to arrive at a verdict. in this essay i will

[itz-amani]

"kung pow penis," a phrase commonly used in reblogs to indicate utter disdain for OP, has twelve letters, each of which (traditionally) must be supplied by a different user. the unanimity of disdain indicated by these twelve unrelated users has strong parallels to the requirement of unanimity for a jury—also traditionally of twelve—to arrive at a verdict. in this essay i will

[itz-amani]

The holy quaternity

[itz-amani]

The drawings I did in the background of my latest piece! Thanks for all the support and love!

[itz-amani]

yes

You cannot escape me @unidentifiablesubject 😈

the other one

[itz-amani]

DELICIOUS IN DUNGEON >>>

A new species of Living Armor? Let's try it!

[itz-amani]

I should have drawn Uncle Sukuna, it's too much for me to handle

Yuji puts stickers on his face and makes rings out of paper to imitate his cool uncle.

[itz-amani]

UGHHAHAHAAHHHHHHHGGGGGGUGGGHHHHHHHH😩😩😩

men in suits are my weakness

[itz-amani]

Pathetic

Pairing: AU!Sukuna x reader Genre: angst Content: the title says it all, pathetic ‘kuna core. Sukuna cockblocked himself because he's afraid of commitment :DD a bit of gojo x reader at the end bc y/n deserves love. Wc: 1.2k

“Stop being so pathetic.” He had declared, his words cutting through the air like shards of ice.

But you, ever resolute, had refused to let his harshness deter you. Sukuna knows how much his sentence has hurt you. Your hands were trembling as you reached his, desperately seeking connection. Tears glistened in your eyes, your voice was quivering but you smiled at him through your blurred vision.

“We could work it out right, ‘Kuna?” you implored, your voice soft yet it held so much weight. “Please talk to me. I don’t need anything else! I just need you. We don’t have to get married or anything. I am content just being with you. I love you.”

Sukuna’s gaze remains distant, his eyes fixed on the table behind you. He isn’t looking at you anymore. His response was dispassionate and void of the warmth he used to give you. “It’s not that. I just don’t love you anymore, Y/N.”

He watched you break and he watched you swallow your sobs as you clutched his hand tighter. “That’s okay,” you whispered, your voice desperate, barely more than a breath. “You loved me once, I could make you do it again. Tell me what to change and I’ll change for you, love.”

“I don’t care. I’m leaving.” He pulled his hand away, leaving you alone in your once shared bedroom. He still remembered the sounds of your sobs down the hallway as he walked out of your life.

Sukuna was always sure of himself that day he left you. He had said it so indifferently, so carelessly, as if he didn’t spend years being loved by you. He thought he moved on quite easily— bouncing from one woman to another, getting drunk on his own success, and wasting the rest of his twenties on meaningless connections. The hollowness of it all continued to haunt him.

It’s been half a decade trying to ignore the ache that has been gnawing at his heart. And it wasn’t until he saw you again did the gravity of his actions finally catched up to him.

It was supposed to be your anniversary and Sukuna finds himself pathetically walking into the places you once walked with him. He claimed he forgot about you but his feet always drag him to the remnants of you every year, without fail. He convinced himself it was just a mere coincidence that he walked to the same park where he first hugged you, how you fit right into his arms like you were made exactly for him. He finds himself dining in the restaurant you love so much, and he wonders if you still go there to order your favorite food.

He didn’t want to lay on his bed because he would think about how you used to run your hands through his hair when he’s upset or stressed. He would think about the warmth and comfort radiating out of you when he pulls you closer to him.

He told himself he had forgotten about you when he still hadn't thrown away the polaroid of the two of you, smiling softly as you kissed his cheeks. It was still in his wallet and he never bothered to change the photo. He remembers the way you clung to his arm, excitedly pointing out the changing leaves as autumn envelops the weather. He called you an idiot but you scrunch your nose at him and pulled him to a kiss. He remembers you dragging him into a movie theater to watch a cheesy romantic comedy. He got bored midway but he stayed anyway because he didn’t like seeing the pout on your face.

And he couldn’t rid what you had left him despite not taking any of your belongings when he left. He finds you in his morning coffee, how he drinks it with creamer and sugar because you told him it tasted better. He still gets your favorite laundry detergent every time he shops and he still folds his shirts the way you taught him to.

He thinks of you every sunrise, you once told him it’s a privilege to see the sun come alive right before your eyes and he stays up until morning just so he could pretend he’s seeing it with you.

Why is he mourning over a person who is very much alive?

He lets himself wonder if you think about him too, if you’ve forgiven him. His hands itch to call you to apologize or to ask to see you. He stops himself every time.

In the first year of your break up, he scrolled through your social media accounts to catch a glimpse of your life. You blocked him on everything the following year.

He drowned himself in his vices once more to numb that void you left. And once the party’s over, he would return to his empty mansion, clutching the only relic he has of you— the sweater you left at his place. It didn’t have any traces of your favorite perfume anymore yet he still hung on to it. In those moments, he allowed himself to regret his decision.

What would his life turn out if he told you what was on his mind?

It finally dawned on him when he saw you that day. You were still as radiant and you were smiling just as bright. You still looked like the same woman he walked away from years ago. The same woman he still loves. Only, you looked happier, your joy evident in every step you took. Sukuna watched you emerge from your favorite cafe, holding your coffee in one hand, a ring on your finger. The sight sent a shiver down his spine.

In your arms, cradled tenderly, was a child. Sukuna knew without a doubt that he was yours, the same eyes that had once held his heart were now reflected in your son’s eyes. White strands adorned your son’s hair, and Sukuna suddenly felt like he couldn’t breathe.

He had never entertained the thought that he would ever see you with someone who wasn’t him. But now, as he stood there, he couldn’t deny the fact that he had no place in your life anymore.

You had settled down and gotten married to none other than Gojo Satoru.

He watched as your husband approached you, whispering something in your ear that made you giggle and smile harder. He watched as Gojo brushes your hair out of your face, taking your son from your arms so he could hold your hand.

Sukuna watched as Gojo Satoru gave you everything he couldn’t.

It felt like the gods were mocking him. And oh how Sukuna knew he messed up when he saw how you looked at Gojo the way you used to look at him.

It was supposed to be him.

He turned and walked away again before you could see him, paying his last respect to your own peace and happiness. Every step he took felt like daggers into his heart.

It’s pathetic, isn’t it?

wanna read more?

[itz-amani]

Sukuna in yuji's body

[itz-amani]

VOTE NANAMI

Just posted the choso fic 🤭