jasmineforests

[jasmineforests]

Eyes On You

summary - you finally decide to give the gym a go, getting yourself involved with a man who's dead set on pushing you to your limits

wc - 5.4k

content - MDNI, insecure!reader x gymowner!Sukuna, mentions of weight, Sukuna's harsh at first, eventual mutual pining, solo mast. (m + F, separate), 0ral (f receiving), face s;tting, handj0b, slight body worship, submissive reader, freaky in the gym shower (anyone could hear them...but no one does?), teasing, hella unrealistic, really amateur writing like please I'm cringing so hard

an - uhm I've never written a mini fic before !! please excuse the awkward writing

Lazily proofread by me mb

It took all the courage you had to even think about signing up to the gym that opened down the road, but the little voice in the back of your head was telling you to go. Just check it out, it said. Walk around a little, and then right back out. Shouldn’t be hard, right?

Right?

Wrong. How wrong you were. It was easier said than done in hindsight, but you didn’t expect the heavy thud of rock music to blare throughout the facility until you felt your bones tremble. Nor did you expect large gaggles of gym bros swarming around the equipment, a few heads turning the moment you pushed open the glass door. Sure, there were enough women there also, but not enough to deter you from yanking the drawstrings of your hoodie. Your vision became obstructed as the hood tightened around your face, whispered curses leaving your lips.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you muttered, eyes darting side to side as the social anxiety set in. You were close to turning around on your heel and out of this building, leg already twitching. But a low, gravelly voice called out to you from beside a water fountain you were unfortunately standing too close to. 

“Lost? Nervous? Which one is it, girl?”

You don’t know how you missed this giant of a man, especially when his cropped, pink hair made him stick out like a sore thumb. Some strands were plastered to his sweaty forehead and concealed the judgement of his stare. Barely. His tank top also did a poor job of hiding those hulking muscles, flexing slightly with full veins as he gripped his water bottle. Looks like you caught him mid-workout. Oh, and you’re gawking like an idiot.

Nice going. 

“Are you deaf or something? Speak up already,” the stranger clicked his tongue impatiently, and you internally panicked. You wondered whether manifestation was real and if you could will for the stranger to just explode. Actually, make it the entire room. An embarrassed grimace appeared on your face as you realised you had the attention of a couple of people on you.

“Uh, no. No, I’m not deaf. Just looking around,” you began to explain, undoing the drawstrings of your hoodie once you realised how utterly stupid you must have looked. But then the stranger gave you a grimace of his own, lips quirking up as his eyes landed on your dishevelled hair. You looked like a mess. 

Way to go. Now you can’t show your face in public. And yes, it really was that deep.

And so you smoothened your hair out and plastered an overly enthusiastic grin on your face to compensate for the fact you couldn’t socialise. “Where do I sign up?”

He snorted, a sceptical brow raised as he checked out your incredibly outdated attire. “You want to sign up?” 

You nodded. Fuck, you weren’t even meant to say that. The urge to slap a hand over your forehead grew tenfold, but you fought it.

A shaky breath left you as you gave in to that little voice reminding you that no, you didn’t fit into those jeans you’ve had your eyes on for a while. No, your mom hadn’t stopped making comments about your body and lack of love life. 

“...Yes, please,” you said after a beat of silence, and that was that. Sukuna, who was apparently a trainer, led you through the whole process. Sign this, read that, fork over some of your wage. You know, the typical procedure. The new you was coming very soon, you told yourself after internally crying over the money spent. You’ll buy those jeans in no time.

═══════★

“Sloppy fuckin’ form, girl. Sharpen up,” Sukuna barked, circling around you like a goddamn hawk. 

Oh, you swore you were going to quit that gym soon. He had been riding your ass for the past couple of weeks, pushing you further than you’ve ever pushed yourself. Sukuna called you out on your bullshit that first day when you tried hiding in the corner with your phone out, coaxing you onto a mat and making you stretch. Since then, Sukuna kept an eye on you, making sure you were red-faced by the end of the workout. 

A sharp click of his tongue brought you back from your thoughts. You groaned, raising your hips from the floor and spreading out your limbs. You were currently doing a plank, which appeared to be dissatisfactory in Sukuna’s eyes. 

“I’m doing it, I’m doing it,” you hissed, head tilting up as best as you could so that you may glare at your tormentor. A scoff left his lips.

“Yeah, you’re as intimidating as fuckin’ pebble right now. Head down.”

Your head dropped reluctantly. The quiet grunt you accidentally let out didn’t escape the trainer, but he wasn’t about to soften up. Neither were you out of sheer stubbornness. 

However, the burn in your thighs and arms became more noticeable. An ‘oof’ sound left your lips as your jellied arms buckled and you face-planted the floor. Another tut and more chuckles from the other members scattered in the gym. 

“Take five,” Sukuna couldn’t help but roll his eyes at you. 

A dismissive noise left you as you remained face-down on the floor, Sukuna’s fading footsteps and mutters of annoyance filling your reddening ears. Your face burned. 

Swallow your pride and quit, the voice in your head mocked. 

But two weeks in? You couldn’t. Not when you had stupidly formed a grudge against Sukuna for pushing you so hard too early on. You shook your head and got back into form, lower lip jutting out in sheer determination. You were completely unaware of the approving nod from the other end of the room.

═══════★

Walking was simply out of the question today. You threw the covers off and gritted your teeth at the way your legs throbbed with each shift of your body. 

It had been maybe five sessions since you had face-planted the floor in front of Sukuna. It didn't look like he'd ease up any time soon after that incident. In fact, he grew meaner. That apparently made you like him more.

The mere thought of him made you shrivel up in bed and grimace, but you couldn’t fight the slight inkling of attraction you felt towards him, slight being an understatement.

It was bound to happen eventually, right? You'd be stupid not to be attracted to him. Each muscle looked like it had been carved right out of stone. Hell, now that you think about it, it was probably also those unamused looks he was throwing your way that made you keep going back to that cursed gym. 

You were there now after hyping yourself up in the mirror back home. Not for too long, though. One look at your chest flailing around was enough to make you curl your lip and shrug on that tacky pair of sweats and hoodie you liked to work out in. You skipped breakfast and settled on a shitty cereal bar you found in your kitchen. It wasn't the best thing to do, but you were set on losing weight. 

The air reeked, to be frank. It was the first thing you noticed after walking into the gym. Testosterone and sweat mixed with a strong hit of regret. Regardless, you pushed through and continued shuffling on your boneless legs. You set your bag down in some lonely corner and mentally prepared yourself for Sukuna to berate you about God knows what. It was something new every time you came here. 

“Told your stubborn ass to stretch after the workout,” he drawled once he sauntered over, an amused look on his face. “Just had to stomp out like a little brat, didn’t you?”

“That's not true. I just wanted to go home and shower,” you scoffed in response. But Sukuna didn’t reply. Instead, he raised a brow that screamed oh, really? You could feel the back of your neck prickle with an uncomfortable heat as he stared you down. 

And then he walked off. Asshole.

“So fucking weird. I mean, who does that?” you rambled to no one, getting in form and raising your arms over your head as you stretched. The slight sting of your muscles being used was actually rather welcome for once. 

═══ Later ═══

By the time you were done, you were warm and sweaty. Sukuna hadn’t spoken to you much today, too busy chewing out a new member of the gym. Poor dude, you thought. But at least it wasn't you. 

This gave you time to look in the mirror, a poor habit of yours. Your eyes cast over your body agonisingly slow as you checked for any changes in physique. Little bursts of cool air hit your flushed skin when you lifted your t-shirt with one hand slightly to inspect yourself, the other hand fanning your face. You then sighed, running a hand over your hip. 

“The fuck are you doing?” 

A garbled yelp left you as you dropped your top and looked at Sukuna from the mirror without turning around. His red eyes were trained at your hip, and he looked almost disappointed at the fact that your clothes had covered again. You whizzed around and stood there stiff. A pause, and then you were wondering why the hell your mouth was starting to run. 

“Nothin’. None of your business,” you chuckled nervously, hands clenching at your sides. “Just checking progress.” 

“Yeah, ‘cus that’s the only reason why you cop a feel of your own body after every session looking like a kicked puppy,” Sukuna’s eyes remained lidded, flicking between the mirror and you. 

“Oh, cmon. I look nothing like a kicked puppy-”

“Yeah, you do. Every single time.”

“You're watching me like some perv-”

“And what?”

You paused and inhaled deeply, a stupid smirk appearing on Sukuna's lips as you grew increasingly frustrated with him. “Will you at least let me finish my sentence?”

“No can do. Wanna explain yourself?” He asked, beefy arms folding over his chest. You had to forcefully drag your eyes away from the slight jiggle of his pecs, your body reacting similarly to that of a Victorian male seeing an ankle for the first time. 

“Eyes up here. Talk to me,” Sukuna repeated, softer this time. Your hands fiddled with each other as you debated whether to open up to this hothead. It was likely that he'd a) make fun of you, or b) propose on the spot and fawn over how perfect you were (extremely unlikely, but a girl could dream).

Sukuna watched as your lips parted and the lie tumbled out of your mouth since it was easier than telling the truth.

“Just stretching.”

An unimpressed grunt rumbled in the man's chest. “Bullshit, but keep telling yourself that.”

“Tch. What else am I doing then?”

“Fuck knows, but quit it. That's not healthy,” a finger jabbed at your forehead, and you swatted his hand away without thinking. Your chest tightened slightly. Was that genuine concern?

Sukuna saw your reluctance to accept his words, making him shoot a deadpan look your way. “I'm being serious. Stop grabbing at yourself before I throw a dumbbell at the mirror,” he scolded, narrowed eyes boring into yours.

“I see you busting your ass every time you're here. You may not think I notice it, but I do. Trust me. Do you really think I��d push someone so hard if I didn’t see something in them?”

He was speaking to you like a trainer now, but you could hear some of his own personal feelings slip through the cracks. It made your throat feel tighter. 

“To be honest, I didn't think you'd see,” you mumbled, swallowing the lump in your throat and wiping your increasingly sweaty hands on your t-shirt.

“Well, I have. Now, stop touching your hips like that. They're fine,” he scolded. Sukuna didn't even wait for a reply as he walked off, probably to slap the back of someone's head again.

For the first time that day, your body felt less heavy. 

And you could confidently meet your eyes in the mirror again. 

═══════★

With your eyes fluttering shut, you shifted and lay on your back whilst reminiscing on Sukuna's words. Maybe it was your memory playing tricks on you, but you swore his eyes lingered on your body in an appreciative way. Maybe he saw more in you than you had ever seen in yourself. But realistically, maybe you were that attention deprived that you were making up scenarios to feel special. 

An exasperated groan left you as you rubbed your face in your hands, heat creeping up onto your cheeks yet again. Honestly? You couldn't remember the last time you felt so whipped over someone before. It had been just under a month since you joined that gym, and Sukuna was already plaguing your every thought. 

It's not like Sukuna was your teacher or anything. You were both legal adults. Yeah, maybe you were just some stubborn brat who frequented his gym. But that didn't mean you couldn't feel anything for him. 

But why did you feel guilty? Was it the way he was so uncaring yet so observant at the same time that made you feel this way? Or was it the fact that you saw yourself as unworthy of this arousal?

Regardless, you could feel your cunt beginning to ache. You tried relieving it by squeezing your thighs together, but it was useless. The muscles in your body still felt tight, and the effects of the gym lingered. God, why couldn’t you escape him?

Slick noises filled the bedroom not long after you began questioning your whole dynamic with Sukuna. Yes, it was deeply embarrassing and you’ll surely regret it later. But right now, the sensation of your fingers rubbing tight circles over your clit was too pleasurable to ignore. 

With each ashamed jerk of your hips as you lay there, the plush skin of your thighs shook as you raised it slightly and bent your knee. Even though you lived alone and no one was around to hear you, you bit into your fist to conceal the plethora of needy mewls and gasps falling from your lips. The towel had come undone, exposing the curves of your writhing body. The cool air contrasted deliciously with the wet heat between your parted legs. Now that your breasts were free, the hand at your mouth moved lower so that you lazily brush a couple fingers over a hardened nipple. 

But the moment you did that, existential dread crept over you and you withdrew your hand. Self-consciousness hit you like a ton of bricks and you sat up abruptly, face burning at the fact that you were getting off at the thought of some musclehead at the gym. Your eyes fluttered down, unfocused and blurry from denying yourself of an orgasm. You guessed it was time for another shower. Maybe that’d wash the shame off of you. 

═══════★

After a few days of ignoring the urge to go to the gym, you gave in and dragged yourself out of your home. There’s no way you could look at Sukuna in the eye now. That was one of the many thoughts whizzing round your head as you kept your eyes low and headed to your usual corner of the gym. You could smell the lecture coming from the pink-haired man from a mile away, and boy, you were right. 

You were barely done with your first warmup set when you heard his gruff voice cut through the blaring music. He was not amused. 

“You suuure took your sweet time coming back, Sick of working out already?”

And that’s when you froze. Your heart quite literally dropped to your ass once you managed to stand up straight, but your eyes remained on the mat below you both. 

“Was busy, that’s all,” which was a bold lie. He could tell.

“Hm,” Sukuna began. “Looks like you were too busy to even do your stretches properly.”

A thick set of fingers met your back, the digits pressing into your spine so that your posture was correct. An awkward noise left your lips at the contact.

“Straighten up. At this rate, you won’t even be able to workout because of body pains.”

But that was the least of your problems. Fantasies of his hands coaxing your thighs open and his tongue doing unspeakable things to you filled your mind, causing you to move back sharply. You cleared your throat, noticing again the displeased look on Sukuna’s face.

“I didn’t think you’d care if I turned up or not,” you admitted sheepishly, a bold assumption on your end.

A low, hum of laughter rumbled in his chest, which quite frankly did nothing to soothe the steady pulsing between your thighs. “Oh, I don’t. I just don’t want to be losing out on money through your absence.”

Ouch. 

Your head turned, and he saw the mildly offended look on your face. His words were just enough to make you forget about the heat of his body as he walked around slowly to stand in front of you. 

“I’m kidding, i'm kidding. Mostly," he borderline purred. "Is everything okay, though? You’ve been ignoring me more than you usually do,” Sukuna cocked his head to the side, and you wondered how he could sound both amused and irritated at the same time.

A short huff left your lips, almost sounding amused. If only he knew why you had been avoiding him.

“Nah, everything’s good. Just working out, y’know. Like a normal person would.”

Sukuna’s lip quirked up again, a stupidly attractive habit he had when he felt playful. “Riiiight. If that’s the case, stop lookin’ at me like I’ve fucked your life up or something.”

Your brows furrowed as you struggled to keep your eyes on him. The fuck did he know?! But that frantic look on your face didn’t stop him from running that mouth of his. 

“Oh, but who knows? I might have already. And in that case?” he let his voice drop down a couple of notches, leaning forward until you could practically taste his aftershave on your tongue. “You’re welcome, I guess.” He let his eyes drift down, pausing at your lips, and then down to the swell of your breasts through your t-shirt. 

Were you meant to ask him to look for longer, or slap him?

Once the realisation that maybe, just maybe Sukuna was attracted to you settled in your stomach like a heavy weight, he pulled back and walked away slowly, eyes on you until the last possible moment. You blinked once, then twice. 

You were dumbfounded, but also aroused. What the hell was going on with you both?

═══════★

Sukuna’s private office was…something. Low hanging fluorescent lights flickered periodically as he sat there in the busted chair, sun already having set outside. The occasional clang of metal reverberated around the gym outside of the private wall, and the air inside was heavy with dust, sweat, and intense longing. 

Sukuna’s eyes were screwed shut, unable to physically eat the half-chewed apple on his desk. His cock was aching in his sweats. It’s only been under a week since you came back to the gym, and he’s losing it. He’d be lying if he said you had caught his eye immediately. Sukuna remembers the day you came bumbling in like an idiot into his gym all wide-eyed like you’ve never seen a man before. 

But how wrong he was. You had a mouth on you under all that awkwardness. But most importantly, you were so reactive. He doesn’t know why he liked it so much, but seeing you stiffen up at his touches, push out your lower lip when he pissed you off… It really set him off. Not to mention the noises, God. Your soft pants after a workout, your low groans as you stretched those legs of yours.

Honestly? Sukuna didn’t understand why on earth you were so insecure. He had the urge to drag you away from the mirror every time he saw that disappointed look on your face after each workout session. He could spend ages running his hands across every soft inch of your body to show you that you were fine. There was no need for you to push yourself so hard. 

The mental imagery of burying his face deep into your pussy pained him. It was embarrassing, really, the way he was always ogling at you bent over the dumbbell racks or watching your throat bob with every gulp of water. Sukuna rubbed his face with his hands, groaning and manspreading further in his seat as his cock practically weeped to be freed. He could feel the front of his boxers dampen with his precum, which he had been trying to ignore for a while now. But it was useless. Sukuna may have felt like a hormonal idiot for freeing his length from the confinements of his sweatpants, but he saw no use in denying himself the pleasure of fantasising you on top of him. 

It wasn’t long before Sukuna had a large hand nestled deep in his pants, wrapped around his throbbing cock. He couldn’t be bothered taking it out, and something about ruining his clothes to the thought of you made it all the more thrilling. When he shut his eyes, he could see the full outline of your body underneath your clothes, the way the outline of your sports bra was visible due to sweat after vigorously exercising. 

His cock twitched in his hand and he finally began pumping his hand lazily. Sukuna could imagine you walking in on him, the frazzled look you’d shoot his way. He wanted you to see him like this, but unfortunately for him, you had gone home. 

“Fuckin’ hell, you’ve done it now. Messed me up all good and p-proper, huh?” His hand continued to move, wrist rolling expertly. Almost as if he was used to jerking off to the thought of you. Sukuna’s head tipped back as he pictured you on your knees, lips glossy with his cum and body eager to please him. Oh, you'd look so pretty with your tits pressed together as you sat their obediently.

The chair creaked once he started rutting into his hand frantically. His hips jerked once, then again as his orgasm hit him. It hit him hard. It was messy and the waves of shame hit him at the same time ropes of thick cum coated his fingers and the insides of his sweats. 

Uneven pants filled that small office, and Sukuna finally withdrew his fingers and wiped them clean with a nearby rag he kept nearby. He could feel his heart hammering in his throat, and he actively avoided looking down at the mess he made inside of his sweats. 

Maybe Sukuna felt ashamed. He definitely should have. But there was no way in hell Sukuna would ever stop thinking about you. 

═══════★

You should have gone home and showered there like you usually did. But the tension between you and Sukuna exactly two days later had you on edge. You weren’t thinking straight, water bottle empty and chest heaving from overexertion. Your aching feet dragged to the gym showers instead, where you stripped after setting up all of your belongings. That berry-scented body wash just screaming your name. 

Sukuna however, came with other plans. He was thanking the stars that the gym was mostly empty, and there was little to no chance of anyone walking in. Plot armour, one may call it. 

You were in the middle of washing your body, washcloth scrubbing at your chest and getting them all soapy. How odd Sukuna was acting today, you muttered to yourself, recalling how his stare never left you and how his jaw remained tightly clenched. You were almost afraid he’d break a tooth.

The obnoxious creak of the shower-room doors brought you out of your daydreams, and you were glad the curtains concealed you from the eyes of whoever had just walked in. You were thinking to yourself that gosh, they really should oil up the hinges, but the curtains opened. Your eyes landed on a very pent-up Sukuna, whose eyes were shamelessly ogling at your nude body. You merely blinked at him, brain trying to catch up with what was going on.

“So, hey! One person per shower!?” you practically shrieked, backing up when Sukuna entered the shower and shut the curtain behind him. He’s soaking in the sight, clothes becoming drenched as the hot water beat down on both of you. Sukuna’is breath met the steam as he exhaled heavily, finally forcing himself to speak. 

“Gonna tell me to fuck off any time soon? Say something, pretty girl,” he cooed raspily, head cocked slightly to the side as he hunched over you. You could only stare back up at him, blinking away the spray of water. But the way your pussy clenched around nothing told you all you needed to know. You were positive you wanted him, so you gave him a nod. 

That was enough of an invitation for Sukuna to capture your bottom lip with his teeth, sucking it lightly into his mouth as he initiated a kiss under the spraying showerhead. You wanted to kiss back, but everything about Sukuna screamed urgency. You could barely register the fact that he was nipping at your neck, sucking a nipple into his mouth as his greedy hands pawed at every inch of skin you had to offer. 

“R-ryo, please wait-”

“No waiting. Don’t you dare tell me to wait,” he gritted out, sinking onto the tiles and using his hands to maneuver you around so that your rear was in his face. You winced at the sensation of the cold tiles your breasts were pressed up against, but you had no time to complain about it when Sukuna used both hands to spread the supple fat of your ass apart. A sharp gasp ripped out of your throat and your head whipped behind you to check.

“What exactly do you think you’re doin-”

He doesn't allow you to finish your sentence. The fiend angled his head, flattened his tongue and licked a fat stripe from your pussy to ass. You shrieked, hands flailing as you tried to grip the tiles unsuccessfully. A sharp swat to your ass served as a reminder to keep quiet, so you slapped a hand over your kiss-bitten lips. Sukuna took this as a chance to grab one of your calves and lifted it to the side, allowing him to groan deeply at the way your pussy spread so nicely for him. The fact that he could do so with such ease had you positively shaking. 

Your foot slipped ever so slightly on the wet tiles, but Sukuna was there to grip you even tighter, digging his fingers into the ample layer of fat over your hip to steady you. He dove back in, mouth hot on the entirety of your cunt as he ate you out like a man possessed. A garbled cry left your lips as you let your hand leave the tile. Sukuna was beyond pleased when you twisted his short hair into your fist and tugged, beginning to practically ride his face. 

“Fucking starving today, y’know?” he huffed in between filthy slurps. “Acting all shy for what, when your body is this fuckin’ slutty. Think I wouldn’t notice, huh?”

He went on and on, pausing to languidly roll his thick tongue over your pulsing clit. Sukuna sucked it into his mouth, nose buried between the crevice of your ass. You couldn’t respond, rendered to stupidity as ragged breaths left your lungs. The only time the man under you pulled away was to spit directly onto your pussy before diving back in. 

“P-pull away, gah, pull away, Ryo. M’gonna-,” you whined before being rudely cut off. Sukuna chokes on a curse at the nickname you have for him, and he wraps his arms around your waist. You’re sitting on his face, spasming with a cry as he begins shaking his head to the best of his ability. He’s a certified munch for a reason, devouring you from the back as you release all over his face with a strangled cry. 

You wiped the water from your face and slumped against the tiles. A kiss was planted against your ass, and then another. 

“Fucking hell. Should have done this sooner. Much sooner,” he muttered as he eventually rose to his feet. Sukuna’s knees ached, but it was worth it. “Pussy tastes sweeter than anything I’ve ever had.”

You managed to focus your eyes on him, face undeniably flushed as you pushed yourself away from the tiles. It did something to you to see Sukuna so pussydrunk and hard in his boxers. Somewhere along the way, he had tossed his shorts aside, which was perfect. His erection was straining against the fabric, and you took that as an invitation to sling an arm over his bulky shoulder. Your other hand slid down his torso, dipping in every curve of muscle it could find. You left his pecs alone, deciding to squeeze them another day. 

“Oh, oh. You want this as much as I do?” he teased before stopping himself from speaking anymore once he saw the look in your hazy eyes. You didn’t want sex. Not today, at least. So you settled on timidly freeing his length from his underwear and brushing your thumb over the flushed tip. The larger man almost moaned aloud when you rested your forehead against his chest and looked down, a soft noise of awe escaping your mouth at how deliciously thick his cock was. All thoughts of covering the stretchmarks on your hips, the thickness of your thighs, all of it… they were long forgotten at that moment. You started stroking his length almost lovingly, and you heard the slight crack in his usually confident voice.

“Hahhh, s-shit. Got a reaaal sweet pair of hands on you, don’t you, pretty girl?” he simpered, raising your head with a hand and affectionately resting his warm forehead against yours. The way Sukuna praised you had you doubling your efforts, wrist twisting as you pumped him earnestly. 

The water kept running, but Sukuna could worry about the bill another day. A chorus of guttural growls left him, strokes growing increasingly slick with his precum. The periodic twitches spurred you on, your eyes lighting up the closer he came to orgasm. Your gaze broke away when Sukuna’s lips pressed against your temple in a feverish manner, aaall the way down until he could claim your lips once more. The slight musky taste of your own slick graced your mouth. You should’ve pulled away, but you enjoyed the way his saliva mixed with yours.

“W-woah, there. Steady, fuck. I’m about to cum-”

One last flick of the wrist and a sweet peck on the cheek was all Sukuna needed to cum all over your fingers with a final grunt of your name. His release was warm, ropes of it shooting up to his abs. The urge to pop your fingers into your mouth grew, but the water washed it away. Neither of you spoke for a minute, trying to gather your wits about the change in dynamic between you. The steam continued to swirl around you both, providing a more intimate cocoon for you to relax in.

“Let me wash you up, yeah? Can’t be going home half-cleaned,” Sukuna murmured after pulling back from your face, trying as gently as he could to wipe the sodden strands of hair off of your face. He’s made a mess of you, but you were a gorgeous mess. One he’d happily devour a million times over. 

“Ah, well. That’s your fault, no? I suppose you should be the one taking responsibility,” you laughed weakly, mild exhaustion setting in. The orgasm combined with the heat of the shower was getting unbearable, and you wanted to leave. Sukuna picked up on this, making quick work of cleaning you both up. 

“Is that so, hm? Let me take you out then. Properly,” he said, followed by a nip at your ear. Large hands rubbed at your skin, thumbing at the curve of your waist. A swat of your hand landed on his chest, but Sukuna didn’t pull away. Oh, he was deathly serious. 

“...Yes, please.”

divider creds - @cursed-carmine

[jasmineforests]

⟣ 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

⟣ 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓

Camping with Toji <3

Showering with Toji <3

How Toji handles your nagging

Grimy old man Toji

Grimy step-dad Toji

Older bf Toji never lets you leave the house without filling you up :3

How Toji deals with other men liking you

Toji feeling guilty about the age-gap

Toji fucking you with his gun

Milkman Toji

Toji touching and teasing his shy gf

Toji with his talkative gf

Being needy and waking Toji at night

Toji lovesss short girls

Sitting on step-dad Toji’s lap

Toji lovesss your cunt even more after you gave birth

Accidentally calling Toji “dad” during sex

Rubbing your face on Toji’s bulge

“One’s in my mouth, One’s in my soul” w kento

Watching Toji take a piss + blow job

⟣ 𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐅𝐅

“Get used to seeing a man in love”

Mornings with Toji

Toji’s snores turn you on

Putting stickers on Toji

⟣ 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐓

Washing machine heart

⟣ 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒

And…they were roommates

[jasmineforests]

❀ In which you and your husband compete to be your baby's first word

“Say ‘ma-ma.’” 

Your baby makes some noise. It’s an adorable babble that induces cuteness aggression in the form of you biting her chubby cheeks and listening to her giggle, but it’s not the exact sound you want. Still, she’s a clever girl so you know she’ll pull through sooner than later. 

“Playing dirty, sweetheart?”

Kento walks into the nursery, laying his folded suit jacket over the armrest of the chair in the corner, where he sits down with a relieved sigh. He loosens his tie and gives you a tired smile, two long fingers beckoning you over. Baby in your arms, you nestle in his lap, immediately engulfed in his scent and warmth. He playfully nibbles on the fingers the baby shoves in his mouth, her own way of welcoming him back, you suppose. 

Fresh from a long day at work, you don’t bother asking why he didn’t change into his home clothes immediately after coming back or why he’s not taking a much needed nap – your husband has asserted multiple times now that his favourite way of recharging is with you and his little girl. Home is wherever you two are, he says.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mumble, trying to distract the observant man by handing the baby over to him. 

Humming as he presses a kiss to her forehead, Kento muses, “So, my gorgeous wife, who loves nothing more than coming out victorious in every competition she creates, has been behaving the entire day, withholding any and all attempts to make our darling daughter’s first word be ‘mama?’ Somehow, I find that hard to believe.” 

You plead the fifth and the guilty grin you give him is all the answer he needs.

“Hi, my sweet girl,” your husband coos, eyes sparkling with adoration behind his thin-frame glasses. “Did you miss dada? Dada missed you, oh, yes, he did.”

“Hey! Now you’re playing dirty.”

“On the contrary, my love, I’m simply catching up.” His smile widens at the fairy-light sounds of pure joy that he elicits from his baby girl with his nose kisses. “Dada would never resort to cheating, would he? No, not like your mother. Can you say, ‘mother?’ No? Oh, dear.”

That earns him a slap on his chest. “You are so annoying, Ken. I carried her for nine months, it’s my right to be her first word. I deserve it.”

“Of course, sweetheart. I understand, but our little love doesn’t. All that matters to her is that ‘dada’ is much, much easier to say than ‘mother.’” The 'little love' in question steals her father's glasses and waves it around with her balled-up fist. Knowing that a baby's grip is second to none, he doesn't put up a fight.

She's definitely your daughter.

“Uhuh, Kento. Keep plying her with complicated words to make ‘dada’ sound easier all you want but my girl knows her roots. She’ll come through for me." Shuffling off, you give them each a kiss on the head. "Alright, alright. I have to get started on dinner — you two have fun. Hear that, angel? Mama is going. Ma-ma is making food for your sperm donor. Can you say ‘male parental figure?’ No? What a shame.”

They share a laugh: one appreciating your quip and the other, just happy to be there.

An hour or so later, dinner’s ready and waiting on the dining table. You don’t shout, not anymore; one never knows when the baby’s asleep and when she'll next sleep so every drop of quiet is gold in the Nanami household. 

Quietly then, you creep down the hallway and peek your head through the gap in the door. The twinkling of a music box plays in the background. 

Remaining where you left them, Kento rocks his daughter in his arms, running a finger from her forehead down to her nose bridge, tickling her delicate skin, a trick that never fails to make her smile. 

Your husband talks in a gentle, tender conspiratorial tone and your eyes narrow in suspicion — the man hides behind an air of maturity and wisdom, obscuring his penchant for competition, but he can’t fool you. “Come on, sweetpea, make dada proud. Just like we’ve been practising, hmm? Say it with Papa Ken.”

Who’s playing dirty now? 

Just about to scold him for his underhanded actions, hypocrisy and double standards be damned, his next words stop you in your tracks.

“Say ‘mama.’ Can you say, ‘ma-ma?’ Don’t you want to make mama happy? I know I do.” She only blows bubbles in response, tiny hands tugging at his tie now so she can gnaw at it, glasses returned to the rightful owner. “No? Tired from a whole day of being daddy’s perfect angel, are you? Alright, we’ll try again later. Come on, let’s go help mama. She gets grumpy when the food doesn’t cook fast enough.”

The last sentence was unnecessary but you appreciate the sentiment, nonetheless.

Beyond appreciative of his never ending efforts to make you happy, dinner's spent with you giving your husband a gummy grin and he, in return, eyes you in suspicion, all while your little girl entertains herself with her foot in her mouth.

At night, baby asleep and tucked away in her room, you push him down on the bed, practically ripping his clothes off. Dazed, confused, but very pleased with the evening's turn of events, Kento rarely ever has any choice but to let you have your way with him.

And beyond content in a way he never knew he could be, in a way he didn't know he'd ever deserve, Kento doesn't realise he's smiling beneath you until you thumb at his lips, a soft look in your twinkling eyes.

"Let's have another baby, Ken."

Softly, he mutters, “Whatever you want, dear.”

[jasmineforests]

more husband sukuna ooooo oooooo ooooooOOOo

Sukuna, your husband, was a menace to society to say the least. Not only because he was a dangerous, bordering on two meters tall, tattooed, muscular guard dog who's eyes would kill if they could, but also, because he was extremely judgemental.

Going outside with him was an actual nightmare. Always having critiques for everything. Food? Too salty. Drinks? Too watery. Places? Too dirty. Clothes? Too itchy. Everything in the world was fauled in his eyes. Specially people. The cashier at the store? Too slow. The waitress at a restaurant? Too ugly. That old lady standing at the bus stop? Too old.

But with you, with you it was entirely different.

Nothing you did could be wrong in his eyes. Of course you were perfect, after all you were none other than his wife. If he chose to marry you was because you were nothing short of perfect. Every part from your appearance to your personality was perfect in his eyes. And as such, his critical personality... softened.

And people tell you about it. His friends, your friends, your family. He was too critical of everyone, but you have never felt so. Not even when you were dating did you get a single complaint from his part... at least about yourself.

So you decide to test your theory. With a plate of deliberately salty pasta.

"It's perfect." He says while chewing, uninterestedly scrolling through his phone. And your jaw drops.

"It's salty." You say, palms clashing with the table, making it shake a little. And he takes another bite, staring right into your eyes, as if defying that claim.

"Is it now?" He asks, a satisfied grin over his face, canines showing as he chews, bites. "I think this might be one of the best dishes ever made."

"Sukuna!" You say, still in shock. And he chuckles.

"Sweetheart," He answers back, standing up, plate empty. He presses a kiss to the top of your head. "You'll have to try harder to drive me out of my mind."

TAG LIST

SUKUNA M.LIST

TAGGING: @sunnymmoon @lilithlunas @imvivian @purplechan9 @eroscastle @goldenglow149 @lurexin @stranger00001 @delicatelycraftedbambi @rania200527 @mizzhellsingsstuff @lakxcpsta @coolnekochan @notreallyablogger @lilyalone @oliviathatgirl @eeelieschariot @hannas16 @surelynotaspider @mimihaitani @raxshall @ayn-yurbestie @jellystar-star @janeisnotonline @sukunaspillow @architectofsuffering @mrstraffy @mikeysonlywaifu @w1tchyaurea @poopooindamouf @samstrav @yutterfly @staarflowerr @nanamiswife @majissunshine

[jasmineforests]

BLACK SHEEP!!

synopsis: who knew that the shy, awkward and dorky girl Suguru thought was weird would end up being the love of his life?

pairing: college!suguru geto x dork!reader

contains: fluff, angst, suggestiveness, strangers to lovers, geto being a dick, recreational use of wed, partying, tbd

index

black sheep | watermelon | hush |

muse | party 4 u | creep | friends

r u mine | afraid |

comment to be tagged!

[jasmineforests]

Bear Necessities

Synopsis: what life is like married to brown bear hybrid!Nanami Warnings: 18+ mdni, smutty, fluffy, cursing, established relationship, marriage, cunnilingus, blowjob, unprotected sex, baby fever, lactation kink, breeding kink, dirty talk, praise, dom!nanami, backshot, mention of fleshlight, sub!reader, possessiveness, threat of violence or harm, creampie, knotting, not proofread Word Count: 3.5k

Being married to Bear hybrid!Nanami means having to tip toe your entire relationship because he’s so tall. He does make the effort to hunch down for you, growling softly against your neck about how small and fragile his beautiful wife is. But he’s not always so nice. No, your Kento likes to tease, much to your chagrin.

“Sweetheart, I’ll be late for my morning class,” he remarks, peering at you over his glasses as you hold onto his shoulders for purchase, jumping to reach his face. “And you know I can’t possibly start my day without my morning kiss. You wouldn’t leave me waiting, would you?”

His words are sweet, always so sweet, but the way he’s pawing at your hips and dipping lower to squeeze your ass are nothing but. Lifting you up in one arm, he brings you face to face with his gentle grin, his pearly whites glinting in the morning sun. 

“Hi, darling,” he whispers.

Savouring his soft lips and feeling the soft bristles of his beard, you mutter, “I’ll miss you, Kenny.”

“I’ll miss you too, my darling love. But soon we’ll be away for hibernation, yes? And then you’ll have me all to yourself for months.”

“Dada!”

Kento laughs, a big smile taking over his face until his eyes are crinkling in the corner. With you still held up by one arm, he opens the other for your two cubs to jump onto him. Kenji, the eldest, climbs up his huge back, biting onto his father’s thick neck and growling in challenge. Whereas, Mio sits politely in his other arm, chubby hand petting his beard with wide eyes. 

“One of these days, we’ll all be too big to be carried like this, Kento,” you say with a sigh. 

The glimmer in his warm eyes melts your heart. “That day will never come, my love.”

“Yeah! Dada’s strong,” Kenji argues, to which his little sister agrees, nodding furiously.

“Alright, alright. Dada’s got to go to work, so let’s not hold him up any longer, okay?”

Shifting his tie into to place, you bid him farewell, the warmth of his body still imprinted on yours. He leaves you one last kiss against your forehead, eyes roving over his family, with his eldest puffing his chest out to say he’ll take over the big bear duties now. 

Satisfied, Kento is off to work and you jump on your kids, peppering kisses and attacking them with giggles. 

“Let’s go bake some cookies!”

Bear hybrid!Nanami isn’t always so mild-mannered. Though he isn’t quick to be riled up, there are, unfortunately, certain things that seem to trigger those prominent animalistic instincts. For example, he’s not particularly fond of the your neighbour. 

The single male is a husky who knocks on the door often, requesting sugar or dropping by gifts for the cubs. He’s completely harmless, if a little too bright and cheerful. In fact, you can tell he’s a good person, but that doesn’t matter for your husband. All males are a threat.

One evening, your neighbour knocks whilst Kento’s in the kitchen. Discussing the recent neighbourhood bake sale, you must have been gone far longer than your husband would have liked because he eventually appears behind you, impossibly taller and broader. 

He casts a shadow on you and on the husky who only grins cheekily. Winding a paw around your waist, he snaps his jaws together, flashing his canines. The message is clear: leave his territory now. Your neighbour retreats back, giving you one last wink before the door slams shut. 

Bear hybrid!Nanami buries his face in your neck, inhaling deeply in rapid succession, chest heaving as you’re pinned to the door. His hold on you is calculatedly light enough to not hurt but they do threaten to leave indentations should you attempt to push him away as he’s recollecting himself. 

This doesn’t very often; something about that husky sets him off. You can’t say you hate when he’s like this. How could you when he’s shoving a leg between yours and caging you in his arms?

He’s shuffling his entire body against yours, rubbing his scent as thoroughly as he can. His thigh presses roughly against your moistening core. Gravelly, he groans, “Who are you married to?”

“You.”

A paw urges your hips up and down on his leg, seeking that tantalising honey from your insides. Kento stops inhaling, only to lick up the length of your neck, marking you so that there would be no confusion as to whom you belong to. His sharp teeth scrape the skin in warning — it isn’t enough for the others to know you’re his mate, you must know that too. 

“Again.”

“I’m your wife. I’m yours, Ken.”

You cum just like that, shuddering against his burly chest, buried in his pecs. He rubs soothing circles in your back in apology for his aggressive behaviour. Without much regret in his voice, he admits, “I’m terribly sorry, darling. I don’t know what came over me.”

“I do,” you mumble against his repenting lips, fingers pressing the wet streak that’s formed over his trousers. “I made a mess, sorry, Kenny.”

Glasses foggy and cheeks flushed, he shakes his head. “Nothing to apologise for, my love. You were, and are, nothing short of perfect. Always. Now, come. Let’s eat. The kids must be starving.”

Bear hybrid!Nanami goes through hyperphagia during the autumnal months, when the weather begins to become colder. He eats almost double his usual, consuming more berries and salmon — your grocery budget goes through the roof trying to keep his hunger satiated. 

This does mean, however, that your husband stores more fat. But it isn’t an awful experience. Rather, it’s actually the sexiest thing ever. Seeing him grow rounder in his arms, his face, his stomach and his thighs is incredible. You notice the added weight when he lays on your chest at night, laying a possessive hand on your tummy. 

He almost crushes you when he does that. At first, he simply takes extra care around you, making sure he moves slowly and carefully, but as the winter approaches and he grows even bigger, sleeping on you is no longer an option and you must lie on his chest, the hairs there tickling your nose. 

You can’t keep your hands off Bear hybrid!Nanami in those months. Even as he’s sorting through papers in his office, you just can’t help but crawl under his desk and fish out his thick cock. It’s long, thicker at the base where those fuzzy blond hairs are than the curve. He’s even bigger as he’s bulking. There, in his base, is a little knot-like curve that makes your mouth water. 

“Feeling needy, darling?”

You hum, teasing your lips against his tip. “For you? Always.”

He lands a heavy paw on your head, guiding your head lower. Taking him in, in any holes, is never easy. You have to mentally prepare yourself by re-familiaring yourself with his scent, his texture, and his taste by licking from base to tip, circling the head and peering up at him as his breathing becomes heavy. Only once does he begin releasing pained groans do you stretch your lips to engulf him. 

“Sweetheart, go -ha- slowly,” he advices. “I’ll cum too fast if you’re rough with me.”

His thighs are so thick you palm them, eyes rolling back at the pudge there, still solid and firm from his strength, and the knowledge that he could crush you with them makes you so wet, you moan around his cock. 

The growls coming from his chest vibrate the wooden desk you’re under, heady air puffing from his mouth as he curls his lips back, big arms tensing whilst he grips the wood with a deathly force, knuckles white. You hear it creak above you. You suck harder. 

“Almost there, honey. Keep -ngh- going.”

When he spurts in your mouth, painting your throat with his seed, he thumbs at your bottom lip, smearing the wetness of both his cum and your drool all over your chin before he pulls it down to inspect your mouth. “Swallow it all, my love. That’s right. Such a good girl.”

During hibernation, the entire family is sluggish. The children sleep all day. Kento practically never leaves the bed. Though he’s eaten enough in the season before to only need to eat once in a while, the same can’t be said for you. No, you still need to eat three meals a day.

You know that. And your husband knows that, too. 

So, why does he refuse to let go of you in the mornings, afternoons, and evenings? 

Held by his brawny arms, one around your chest, groping your tit, and the other circling your neck, you literally cannot move. Especially not with the hefty thigh he’s thrown over both of your legs. The snow he senses outside urges his instincts to keep all sources of warmth with him, even if the hottest thing in your room is himself, with all the heat emanating from his huge body. 

“Ken, I’m hungry,” you whine. 

He huffs, no rebuttal escaping him. 

His glasses have been safely tucked away in a drawer, and he’s wrapped tightly in a bulky sweater, hair all mussed up. He looks even paler during the winter, the only colour on his skin being the flush across his cheeks. Kento is the epitome of comfor during hibernation — it’s his favourite time of the year. He gets paid leave and so do you, the government understanding the importance of hybrids having support systems during such a vulnerable time. 

With his cubs all safe and sound at home, just in the next room, and his wife by his side at every given moment, there’s nothing else he could possibly ask for. Except maybe for you to stop squirming to get away.

“I’m literally starving, Kento,” you grumble. 

Bear hybrid!Nanami relents at the very last second, pulling those heavy limbs back enough for you to slide out from under them. You rush to the bathroom for your much needed reprieve and then head straight to the kitchen. Your husband had kept you captive until it was past lunchtime. 

He is so ridiculously selfish during these winter months. 

Careful to make as little noise as possible, you make a quick breakfast. Waiting for the bread to pop up from the toaster, all golden brown and warm, you tap your foot against the floor. It’s an odd feeling to rarely cook in the winter season — all year round, there’s practically never enough food for your husband and your children. Now, you pretty much only cook for yourself. 

You may not have the bear instincts they do, but you are a mother. You have to constantly fight the urge to shake your babies awake and shove hearty stews and delicious pies down their throats. Whenever you sneak into their rooms, all you ever get are grumbles of complaint about how loud you’re being. And if you leave the bed too often to check up on them, making sure they’re still breathing,  your husband becomes adorably irritated and carries them over to your bedroom, everyone piling on top. 

“You left me waiting so long, sweetheart,” Kento grumbles into your neck, startling you.  

Somehow, he had managed to creep up behind, bare feet padding quietly until he reached the kitchen where he promptly rested his weight onto you. Almost toppling over by the sudden weight, you yelp. 

“Ken! Go back to bed.”

Skimming his nose against your neck, he hums, “Can’t sleep without my wife.”

He patiently waits with you, hugging you from behind as he practically dozes off on top of your head, steady breathing causing his chest to rise and fall, coaxing you back to sleepiness too. He reaches over, plating the toasts for you as soon as they emerge, wary they’re too hot for your sensitive human hands. 

Taking your last bite, your world turns topsy turvy when you’re thrown over his shoulder, a large hand palming your thigh all the way up to your ass. Upon reaching your bedroom, he climbs in with you still clinging to his torso. You lay on top of him. He doesn’t complain about the weight, rather he groans from the feeling of you, all of you, keeping him warm and grounded.

“If you were a bear, honey,” he mumbles sleepily, hand rubbing your back, “those toasts would be enough to keep you in bed with me for weeks. How lovely would that be?”

Playfully, you retort, “You should marry one, then.”

“There’s no one else for me but you. Human or hybrid, you’re perfect. Just perfect,” he muses. 

Grabbing your left hand, he rests it on his which lies on the pillow above his head. Your rings clink together as he clutches every part of you tightly, like you might disappear when he wakes up, like this marriage with you has been all one big dream. 

What a sweet slumber and a bitter waking it would be. 

“See you on the other side, Kenny,” you say absentmindedly. 

Kissing the top of your head, he affirms, “Always.”

Once winter passes, Bear hybrid!Nanami returns to work and your kids go back to school, catching up with their friends like they haven’t been asleep almost the entire time. 

The snow’s all gone and the frost in the air disappears, signalling a brand new start. Your cubs will grow bigger, whilst your husband shifts back to his normal size, still enormous and intimidating, but much more hardened. In the spring, that brings its own set of problems. 

“The cubs are at their friends’, sweetheart.” Kento hugs you from behind as you stir a pot in the kitchen. You already know where this is going. You’ve lived through enough springs with the man to know that the bulge he’s grinding against your ass isn’t a simple expression of his love for you. 

Sighing, you ask, “Isn’t two plenty, Ken?”

He growls, teeth scraping your neck as he squeezes every inch of flesh his paws can reach. “I’m a greedy man. I want more of you. I want one that has your eyes and your wit. And another with your hair and your humour.”

When he cups your pussy through your dress, there’s nothing you can say in argument before he places you atop the counter, hob off and food left to grow cold. He’s got something more delicious in mind. 

He grips your thighs, legs spread to accommodate his wide berth. Leaving a big bite on your skin, a red mark begins to grow and the growl vibrating in his chest tells you everything you need to know. Kento isn’t stopping until your stomach balloons with his cubs once more. 

“Smells so good, sweetheart.” He presses his nose against your clothed core, burying the tip on your clit. His mouth waters with the tantalising scent filling his senses. “Always smell so good. I can never focus when you’re around.”

Your panties are ripped apart in his claws, torn to shred but before you can even process the destruction, he’s already diving in, your wetness coating his beard. Kento laps up all the juice you produce, suckling that tight little bud, rolling it with his tongue to hear your moans. 

You pull at his hair, so thick and luscious, and jut your hips up. The pleasure quickly grows overwhelming and you’re squirming away, clawing to find escape from the mind-numbing euphoria. 

Bear hybrid!Nanami growls, throwing a heavy arm over your stomach and he gnaws on your thigh in warning. “Do not move. Do not run. I couldn’t bear it. Not right now, sweetheart. You will give me what I want and you will thank me, yes?”

Panting, you nod your head. “Yes, yes. I’m sorry, Kenny.”

Eyes narrowing, he licks up the bruise he’s planted on your thigh in apology before he dives right back in with greater vigour. He wriggles his tongue inside, his nose teasing your clit, and you cum, creaming right into his mouth. Your husband makes low noises of approval, grip on your body turning punishing.

Bones a mush, he spins you around, wrangling you into position. Kento doesn’t give you a second to even recollect yourself. Your back to his chest, he pulls down the neckline of your dress, cupping your tits with calloused paws. 

“These will fill up with milk for our cubs and they’ll feed our babies,” he reminds you, pinching your nipples and you can almost imagine the sensitivity you’ll develop. “You get aches here, don’t you, darling? It’ll be alright. Your husband will take care of you, hmm? He’ll suck out all the milk so you don’t clog up.”

In one hard thrust, he shoves his length inside you. You gasp, eyes wide and jaw dropping. You feel so full. His long and thick cock is pressing against all the sensitive spots in your pussy, kissing your cervix. Your juices coat him, leaving shiny dew drops on the blond hairs at his base. 

“Feel me here, my love?” He’s got a paw pressing hard on the imprint of his bulge. When he presses harder, you clench down, jolts of electricity tickling your spine. “Ngh, that’s right. That’s where our cubs will be. You’ll grow -god you’re so beautiful- round until you can’t see your toes anymore. Oh, and then you’ll need me to put your socks on and -so tight ha- tie your laces, right?”

“Yes, Ken!”

He’s pummelling deep inside of you, head rubbing against that spot that makes you cream even more. The force in which he’s thrusting is leaving you a shaking mess, having to cling onto the counter to steady yourself. 

“I’ll protect you -ha goodness- and our family. Always. N-no one will harm you. You’ll always be safe with me,” he chants and you’re not even sure he’s talking to you. Kento can only plunge his cock inside, that bulge at the base inching its way in with no regard for how your pussy’s having to stretch impossibly to fit all of him. 

You cling onto that one hand keeping your hips still. “Ken! I can’t. It’s too much!”

He bites your neck, digging into your skin. Those meaty arms wrap completely around you, and he’s lifting you up and dragging you down on his cock. Your head is lolled against his shoulder, limbs limp as he uses you like a glorified fleshlight. 

“Nonsense. You’ll take it all in. You’ve done it before and you’ll do it again. For your Kento, yes? For your beloved husband? For your Kenny?”

You scream as your orgasm washes over you like a tsunami, snatching you under until you’re left panting for breath, vision blurring from the tears cascading down your cheeks. He licks one that trails down your jaw and the salty taste, coupled with the almost painful squeezing of your sloppy cunt, pushes him over the edge. 

Spurts of white paint your quivering walls, your clit throbbing as he shudders against you with a prolonged growl. 

“So good. Always so good for me.” He makes a satisfied noise, grinding his hips deeper inside to plug up your pussy, keeping all of his seed inside. “What would you like, honey?”

You already know what he means and you don’t hesitate to answer, slurring, “Another boy and girl. So that we’ll have even numbers.”

His laughter rumbles and he kisses your neck, lips sliding through the sheen of sweat. He’s still holding you up with ease. “That would be nice. If we only get one boy, we can try for a girl soon after, and vice versa. What do you say, my love?”

You’re almost asleep, thoroughly exhausted even as your pussy still spasms around his thick cock, sensitive from the warmth of his flesh and his seed. Mind elsewhere, you can only reply, “Whatever you want, Ken.”

“Don’t say things like that, sweetheart. Because you know if I had it my way, you’ll always be pregnant and our house would be filled with mini yous all the time.”

The image causes him to throb inside you, cock not softening but rather getting bigger somehow. And when he begins rocking his hips once more, you know he likes the idea a little too much. 

You go for rounds after rounds until you’re leaving a trail of cum as he carries you over to the bathroom, where he takes you again and again, eating up the overflowing mixture of your combined essence.

Bear hybrid!Nanami never needs to try hard to convince you for anything. All he needs to do is flash you that soft smile and flex those huge muscles and you’re creating a sloppy mess in your panties. And he knows when he’s charm has taken the effect he intended. His sense of smell is so powerful he can tell when you’re growing needy from even across the house, where he chases you and pins you to the ground.

The next hibernation is spent taking care of newborns. A boy and a girl. And oh, how proud is your husband to have given you exactly what you wanted. His heart couldn’t be any more full. Except for a couple months later when he’s pawing at your breasts again. 

[jasmineforests]

“FOCUS, PIPSQUEAK.”

FEATURING THE ONE AND ONLY: CALEB 夏以昼

content warnings: 18+ !!! MEAN!DOM caleb x reader, cockwarming (can’t you guys tell i lowkey hv a thing 4 it 😵‍💫), spanking, edging before overstimulation, penetrative sex, cumming inside.

author’s note for my bae @freaktoru, i hope is to your liking 🤞🏻🤞🏻 (req here) thank you to anyone who’s reading :3

word count: 2.1k

SLAP! “focus, pipsqueak.”

you squeal at caleb’s large hand coming down on your sore ass. he has already turned it a glowing shade of red from the number of strikes he’s given you to pull your mind out of a daze. 25? 30? you’ve honestly lost count by now. it hurts, but you know better than to protest or whine for what you want. honestly, it makes you feel so embarrassed with how this has been turning you on. but oh, caleb knows. of course he knows how needy you are. however, girlfriend or not, you asked him to help you with your grades so no special treatment for you. but he was going to make learning much more memorable for you because he knows you were someone who had trouble with retaining the knowledge you’ve learnt.

how was he going to help you, you may wonder? he just has you seated on his almost painfully thick cock that stretches you so good and absolutely fills you to the brim - it felt like he was up to your lungs that you with every breath you took. all you could pay attention to was his twitching cock inside of you. you did try to focus on what he was teaching you, but it was just too hard to think properly! :(

“tch. you better fucking focus, sweetheart. i’m not going to tell you again. you get one more mistake and so help me god, you won’t be cumming until you get your results back from this test. oh, and it better be over an eighty percent if you don’t want to be edged until the next test,” he spits out in frustration. you kick your legs in the air as a little signal of protest. however, they do near to nothing to caleb with how they’re are kept painfully spread open around his own thighs, restricting you from rubbing against him for any sort of friction. you couldn’t bear having to wait so excruciatingly long just for some stupid test.

“caleeeb,” you whine and before inhaling a shaky breath. “i—hch!— i can’t,” you whimper and squirm. he only sighs in exasperation at your words, pushing his glasses back up his nose. “too bad babe, either way you’re going to be seated here until i say otherwise, so sit still and focus.” he shakes his head disapprovingly.

your mind is dizzy. the feeling of his pulsing cock in you prodding at jabbing at your gummy insides with every shift he makes, it’s driving you crazy. you don’t even need to look to know how soaked you are all over his thighs. the loud squelching and the feeling of your wetness dripping between your legs was enough. you just want to cry out and sob, hell, even curl into a ball and beg but you know your boyfriend isn’t going to give into your little scheme this time. not after you failed your last physics exam.

you got a D. a freaking D. how did that even happen? when you told caleb, it had him nearly collapsing to the ground and his jaw wide in shock. he came out with an A+ on that test but you! his student he had tutored so hard still needed further improvement.

“what are the boundary conditions for the wave function in a finite potential well?” caleb whispers as he presses a sweet kiss behind your ear. god, if you only his sweet actions matched his filthy words. the way he still held you oh so gently contrasting the way he talked to you. so mean. “the wave function—sniff!—m-must be continuous, finite..” you pause. fuck, fuck, fuck. what was the last one? you turn to see caleb raising an eyebrow at you, anticipating your answer. “smooth?..” you whimper out.

he gives you a cold, mean smile. “seems like you do know what i’m talking about. thought my cock already turned your brain to mush. not a dumb little slut yet huh?” he teases you. despite his cruel words, you can feel the hand resting on your thigh soften, releasing it’s tight grip on you and now rubs soothing circles against you. you bite back a whimper, your teeth sinking into your already ruined and bruised lips.

seeing your trembling and whimpering state, caleb decides to be a little more merciful. “three more questions right and i’ll fuck you the way you want, baby.” he coos, a laugh rumbles in his chest, the vibrations travelling from his chest to your back pressed flushed against him. you nearly let out a cry of relief at his words but instead you just frantically nod, sniffing on your tears.

his hand comes up to grip your neck firmly. to ground you. “words, my princess. say ‘thank you, caleb’ or not i’m making it five questions instead.” his voice hardens, telling you there were no room for arguments if you didn’t speak up.

you freeze up, trepidation running up your spine at his ruthlessness. you scramble for a quick reply, “i-i’ll be—hiccup!—good caleb!” he squishes your cheeks, cutting off your panicked reply, “pwease—hgh!—i’ll dwo’it. i’ll be a gwood girl..twank you cwaleb!!” you struggle against his hand squeezing your face. drool practically seeps out at the side of your lips as you speak. honestly, pathetic.

caleb chuckes, low and fond, releasing his grip on your face before running his fingers soothingly along your trembling sides. “i know you’re my good girl honey. i’ll take care of you,” he coos, rubbing his face affectionately against yours, the frame of his glasses mushing against the side of your face.

“now, describe t’me the concept of quantum tunnelling. you can do it.” he encourages, if you knew any better, maybe any less delirious, you would’ve picked up the utter amusement laced in his voice. you gulp, “quantum tunnelling,” you pause when you feel his fingers move downwards to rub tight, mind numbing circles on your clit. “it u-uhm..it allows particles-ngh! caleb stop!”you whimper half way. he only huffs out a laugh, a wolfish grin curling at the ends of his lips, prompts you to continue despite the nimble movement of his fingers rubbing you oh so nicely.

“it allows—hah!—particles to pass through p-potential barriers higher than their total energy.” you cry out before falling limp on his chest.

“what about a real-world example of this, hm?” he asks now fully immersed in his train of thoughts, thinking of all the possible answers. you on the other hand? trying not to cry out at every question that practically forced you to used your dumbed out brain of yours.

“a-alpha decay!—mmh—in nuclear physics?”you pant out. this time your hands clench, tightening that your knuckles turn white. in all honestly, you bullshitted that.

“correct,” he hums. “such a smart girl f’me. last one kay? you’ve been so so good.” he praises you. it makes the arousal in your tummy grow even stronger, the flickering flame of heat already severely agitated from his pulsing cock inside you - it’s maddening.

“what is quantum enlargement?” he encourages again, his large muscular arms wrapping around you tightly, leaning down to press a slow, calculated peck on the temple of your head. “you can do it,” he murmurs softly.

you’re brain stutters again. failing to function properly as you would if he wasn’t teasing you this much otherwise. “a-a phenomenon…w-where two particles become—sniff!—linked so that the state of one instantly influences the state of the other, no matter h-how far apart—ngh!- they are?” you finish off your statement, not fully sure.

instantly, caleb lifts you off him before shoving you down onto the table infront, making you scramble to reach to hold onto anything. before you can prepare, you go cross-eyed when he pulls out to the hilt before slamming deep inside you, groaning as he finally can thrust inside of you. “ngh! what a good girl you are, baby. so good for me, hm? answering everything correctly”

“nggh-! caleb—my-ngah!—my tummy! my tummy! ish too fuullll!” you sob, your fingernails digging into the wooden desk. you feel his hands grab at your waist, to pull your hips flush against his to meet every harsh thrust - the feeling of him rearranging you from the inside. the squelching of the leaking arousal pouring out as you . suddenly he shoves himself to the hilt, burying himself in you before grinding down hard.

he reaches a hand to your face to pull your hair back, forcing you to look into the big mirror attached to one of caleb’s wall. what a lewd sight infront of you - tears running down your face, as you watch your stupidly hot boyfriend lean closer to your shaking body, his glasses all fogged up as he snickers cruel words into your ears. “such a slut for your nerdy boyfriend right? i know, i know baby. it just feels so so good to be fucked until you can’t think as a reward right?” you let out a wail, legs buckling against the table. “yeah, baby? yeah? it must be feel so good for you. it’s okay iii got’cha. let go now, just break f’me,” he reassures you.

he releases your hair and moves down to pull your frame against him, your legs fully giving out and caleb simply just holds your full bodyweight without problem the flexion of his bicep visible under the lighting as your eyes glance back to the mirror to admire your pretty boyfriend. such a meanie :(

he reaches his other hand to intertwine yours with his as he nears his orgasm. the loud pap! pap! pap! of his hips hitting yours growing louder as he thrusts harder and faster into your greedy cunt, your walls that are sucking him so so deep. “nghh—cum with me baby, please, please i need you to cum with me. aagh! feel your walls tremble against my cock,” he groans.

at his words, your vision instantly whitens as your jaw drops in a silent scream. your orgasm hitting you with immense pleasure and you feel him cumming inside you too; the large spurts of cum telling you all you needed to know -how incredibly turned on he was. you grip his hand tighter as you tremble from the violent pleasure you’ve succumbed to.

suddenly it becomes overstimulating. you let out a whimper of your own when you realise despite cumming already, he keeps going! despite the also overw sensitivity hitting him, he decides that he wasn’t going to stop until he pulls another out of you. “one more baby. one more f’me—hagh!-“ his voice cracks, the sweet, sweet whimpers falling from him. he buries his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply before sighing as his hips kept thrusting and thrusting.

your freehand reaches back in attempt to push him away, pressing at his flexed abs as he uses all his strength to fuck his cum back into you. “eek! c-caleb! your cuum!” you cry out. “stop! caleb please! i-it’s sloshing inside me,” you wail weakly, slightly panicked from how loud the lewd noise was, yet deep inside you, it turned you on. incredibly. “shh shh-nnh—i’m not stopping yet pip. that’s the point.“ he laughs. “my name isn’t the safeword, you know what to say if you truly want me to stop,” he mocks. he was utterly pussydrunk - drunk on you. the sound of your moans, the sound of your cunt, everything.

soon your walls convulse all over him again, pulling him in deeper and caleb feels as if he’s in heaven. his thrusts begin to stutter, his moans growing louder alongside with yours. then he releases his final orgasm, stuffing you fuller than before that his cum drips out and onto the floor with each brutal thrust. in your ear you hear his babbles of ‘i love yous’ falling from his lips non-stop.

the both of you were utterly fucked dumb because of caleb.

he pulls out slowly, making you whimper from the loss and he falls back into the chair. he heaves and pants, pulling you against him, before coaxing sweet nothings as you to curl up in his lap so he could hold you.

once you both come down, he grins mischievously, ���soo, i better see that 4.0 GPA, pip. that’s the least you can do after how much i’ve practiced with you,” he pouts with faux sympathy.

if only you could answer him, you were too fucked out to even respond snarkily.

what an infuriatingly hot, stupid and above all MEAN boyfriend you had. yet you loved him so so much; with your whole being.

[jasmineforests]

❀ In which your milk ducts are clogged and husband!Nanami is more than willing to help 

It’s just to help feed the baby, he says. It’s his duty, he says. He can't stand seeing you wince, struggling to feed, grappling with this side of parenthood all by yourself.  

And that’s all well and good, but it doesn’t really explain why his glossy eyes are rolling back as he suckles on one of your leaking breasts. Glasses carelessly thrown on the bedside table, hair all mussed up, and shirt wrinkled, the Kento cradled on your chest is one you rarely see. He seems driven by some kind of madness and simultaneously, the most in-control he's ever been.

Firm hands grope and squeeze mercilessly, applying circular motions that steal your breath. His calloused fingers tickle the sensitive skin, eliciting shivers shudders and whimpers out of you.

“Ken,” you whine, “you’re suckling too -hah- hard.”

A growl rips through the air when you attempt to squirm out of his hold. “The baby, h-honey. Think about the baby. She needs her mommy ready to go, doesn’t she?”

“But she’s already sleeping.”

He lets out a proud sigh. “She’s such a well-behaved little thing, isn’t she? She got it from you. My girls, so good to me, always so good.”

Pinned to the bed by his firm, muscular body, you can do nothing against the onslaught of sloppy smooches slobbering all over your tits. Sticky milk dribbles out but doesn’t drip too far before his greedy lips slurrrrps! up your sweet essence. 

“You taste so d-delicious, sweetheart, God, I can’t get enough of you.”

Rutting in between your quivering legs, his clothed cock, hard and throbbing, rubs just right against your pussy. Kento doesn’t even realise he’s grinding into you, that your pussy has long grown sloppy and messy under your panties, and that you’ve already orgasmed three times since he’s made it his personal mission to ease your aches.

“Ken! It’s too much, my nipples are too -ngh!- sensitive.”

Shushing you, he presses your breasts together so he can wrap his glossy lips around both nipples at the same time. “It’s alright, my love. You can take it. Just a little more, okay? Just a little more for Kento.”

“You have to s-stop soon.” It's been hours, the clog's long gone, but your husband shows no sign of stopping. You're not even sure he remembers why you're in this position to begin with. 

Obscene sounds reverberate around the room, dizzying you beyond sanity. Wet, sticky, and delirious, you’re helpless against the lapping of his gluttonous tongue on both of your breasts, flicking the oversensitive nipples, baring them to the steam of the air between you. “Five more minutes. P-please. I’ve earned it, haven’t I?”

You nod, feverish and crazed by his ravenous appetite. 

“Oh, thank you, honey. Thank you. You’re too good to me.” 

He has earned it — your husband is so patient, so caring, and diligent. You can put up with five more minutes. That’s what you thought, at least. But when time's up, he shakes off your weak pushes and latches himself onto a poor, abused breast and begs with a mouthful.

“Five m-more minutes, sweetheart, please? Just five more. I’ll fill you up and you -hah- can milk my cock too. Kento’s being fair, isn’t he? Kento’s never let you down, right? Of course not. So, be a good girl and tend to your husband, alright? He's positively starved.”

[jasmineforests]

WHY SHOULD I BE SAD? (WHEN I COULD JUST FUCK HIS DAD!) ★

ꨄ syn. after your ex-boyfriend cheats on you, you show up at his house only to find out his bum ass isn't there. buuut his dad is, and you see the perfect opportunity to get back— its time for you to move along, goodbye!

ꨄ feat. dilf! kento nanami + fem! reader, pwp, piv, unprotected sēx, improper use of a tie, oral f! receiving), age gap, pússy whipped nanami, choking, hairpulling, voyeurism. mdni.

wc. 3.5k

you knock. three sharp, deliberate raps against the door, knuckles grazing the oak.

the porch light flickers overhead, buzzing lowly as it throws shadows across your bare legs. the hem of your pink velour shorts rides high on your thighs, paired with the matching jacket, zipped halfway down to show a sliver of the white tank top underneath.

you shift your weight to one hip, arms folded tight across your chest, blowing a lazy puff of stray hair that stuck to your glossed lips.

pathetic. you think, glancing around the quiet streets. your (ex!!) boyfriend— still living with his parents like the immature man child he is.

some things just never fucking change.

you shift, scuffing the toe of your sneaker against the welcome mat. welcome, it says in clean, cursive letters. bold of it to assume.

you’re ready to just turn your ass around, already thinking how you were too pretty to be standing on the porch like this for a man who can’t even keep his dick to himself— before the door opens with a soft, weighted click.

and instead of the boy you were verbally (and probably physically) going to skin alive, you got his father.

nanami kento.

he stands framed in the doorway, still in half his work attire. the sleeves of his white dress shirt are pulled up to his elbows, the worn fabric stretching a little too tight over the muscle of his forearms. a navy tie hangs loosely around his neck, brushing ever so slightly against the center of his barely exposed chest.

his honey blonde hair is combed back, a stray hair brushing over the rim of his glasses. he blinks at you once, slow, and you can’t help but blink right back.

he’s hot— hot in that “pays his bills on time” kind of way. in that “he’s obviously bee-keeping age” kind of way. you can clearly see where all the good genes went— definitely didn’t stick with his son.

figures.

“can i help you?” he asked, voice worn around the edges, dragging low across the quiet between you— like he’s been talking all day but you’re the first thing he’s actually looked at.

“i was, uh, looking for your son,” you shrug, voice bittersweet. “but i guess he’s out. . spreading whatever new std he picked up this week.”

nanami’s mouth twitches, not enough to be a smile—not enough to be anything actually, but you still catch it.

“he’s not home, i’m sorry.” he finally says, exhaling through his nose, the sigh barely stirring the thick air between you.

“yeah, me too.” you scoff softly, letting a dry little laugh slip free past your lips before you can stop it.

nanami sighs, glancing out at the empty, paved street, then back at you— standing there in your tiny pink jacket, breath fogging in soft little puffs in the cold, evening air.

and he knows he should shut the door.

tell you to go home, and stop bothering him with his son’s antics.

but instead, nanami looks at you one more time, and the words are already out before he can take them back.

“come inside,” he murmurs, and you blink up at him, surprised. your lashes catch in the dimmed lighting, lips parted because, not gonna lie, you really expected him to scold you for showing up on his doorstep at this hour, not invite you in.

he creaks the door wider with one hand, not moving otherwise.

an invitation, plain and simple— yours if you want it.

and you do.

because why the fuck not.

you step past the blonde man, slow enough to feel the heat of his chest. his cologne hits you next, clean with a weight of something smooth, oaky, the kind that just smells expensive.

the door clicks shut behind you, a low, weighted sound as the house hums low around you — dim lamplight blooming gold against taupe walls, books stacked in corners, the edge of a dark whiskey bottle catching the faint gleam from the kitchen counter.

“can i get you something to drink? wine?” nanami’s voice cuts into the quiet, and you flick your eyes toward him.

his hand curls casual around the fridge door, rolex crowned wrist flexing as he reaches for a bottle without even needing to look.

“what, no vodka shots?”

“i have better taste than that.”

he pours slow — the maroon liquid threading ribbons into thin crystal glasses that catches lamplight like it’s flirting. the air shifts when he crosses back to you, glass dangling easy between his fingers, the stem catching a smear of light as he offers it out.

you take a small sip, the wine breathing sweet against your tongue. it's much heavier than what you're used to, warm enough that it drips slow down the back of your throat and settles thick in your stomach.

you hum low without meaning to, the sound slipping out sticky and soft. nanami sinks next you on chocolatey leather sectional, the seat creaking quietly under the shift of his weight.

“i'm sorry, again.” he says softly, his thumb drags absent over the rim once before he speaks once more. “that boy. . . he hasn't been the same since his mother’s been gone.”

“oh.” you lower your glass, words feeling awkward and clumsy on your tongue. “i’m sorry for your, um, loss.”

and nanami chuckles— the kind you’d expect to hear floating down the halls of some members-only country club.

“she’s not dead— she left. divorced me after she decided marriage vows were more of a suggestion.” he leans back, raising the crystal up his lips.

you laugh before you can stop yourself — the wine buzzing a little low in your veins now, loosening your mouth, making you just stupid enough to flirt with the edge of it.

“ohh,” you purr sweetly, a little slur of silk in your voice. “so you haven’t gotten laid in a while, huh?”

nanami chokes.

no, like actually chokes.

“w-what?” he croaks, brows pulling inward sharply as his glasses shift down the bridge of his nose.

“gootteeenn laaiidd,” you repeat, dragging the words slower this time.

“like, you know, having intercourse.” you have one hand vaguely in the air, wrist limp. “fucking, if you will.”

nanami exhales sharply through his nose - you’re really starting to give him a run for his money right now. “i know what getting laid means,” he mutters, tone clipped. “m’not that old.”

a brief silence drapes itself between you— not cold, yet slightly singed around its edges, tensed. after what seemed to be the longest three seconds of his life, nanami finally speaks.

“no. i, uh. haven’t been active— sexually.”

you burst out laughing, wine nearly sloshing over the rim of your glass. “oh my god,” you wheeze, setting down your drink before it spills over. “this isn’t a doctor’s office. we’re both adults here.”

“are we really?” nanami mumbles, umber eyes skimming over your doubled-over state.

“uh, i’m twenty, mind you.”

“that’s comforting.”

you shrug, one leg curling up beneath you as you swirl whats left in your glass, the liquid painting lazy rings up the sides. your head is lighter now, the warmth of it blooming low in your stomach, buzzing under your skin.

“you don’t have to be embarrassed.” you murmur, head tilting slightly as your gaze drags across his frame. “it’s juust. . . been a while, right? doesn’t have to stay that way.”

you don’t look at him after that. not right away. just take another sip— letting the remainder of the wine coat your tongue and melt there while your words hang.

nanami doesn’t speak at first. doesn’t blink. hell, doesn’t even breathe.

but you feel it. the way the air shifts. the way his eyes remain hot on you. like he’s trying not to picture anything he shouldn’t— and failing miserably.

you’re half his age— he could be your father, for crying out loud!

“you’re drunk.”

“a little,” you admit breathily, voice slurred around the corners like the alcohol is speaking for you. “not enough to lie though.”

his jaw flexes.

visibly.

nanami’s voice drops lower, steadier.

“you’re my son’s girlfriend.”

“ex-girlfriend,” you correct him. “very important prefix.”

“semantics,” he mutters.

“legalities,” you shoot back. “pretty sure that contract expired the second he chose to be community dick.”

and nanami just huffs, closing his eyes, as if you’ll vanish if once he reopens them.

you don’t.

his jaw ticks again— slow.

“you— you shouldn’t be talking like this,” his voice rasps, eyes darkening— not dramatically, like in the movies, but in that slow, irrevocable way. “flirting. with me.”

you blink up at him, doey eyes feigning innocence with such a foxed grace. “awe, why shouldn’t i, mister nanami?”

and uh,

being slumped over his couch not even five minutes later with your legs hanging daintily over his broad ass shoulders definitely wasn’t on your list of possible outcomes.

“k-kennnn,” you whimper, hips rolling up into his face without thinking. your body moving on instinct now. “oh my god—”

his name rolls of your tongue like pure honey. your hips buck into his face, reflexive and greedy, spine arching off the couch like your entire body was trying to climb into his mouth.

“you taste,” he breathes, voice ruined, mouth glistening with the evidence, “so divine.” his lips kiss the words right into your sobbing cunt, a sticky whisper smudged against your folds.

he’s drenched in your dulcetly sweet juices — mouth and chin glazed in spit and slick. there’s drool trailing from the corner of his mouth, pooling where his lips suck around your clit. it’s loud — shamelessly wet — the kind of messiness that echoes off the walls, mingling with your gasped mewls and broken pleas for more.

you're throbbing so much it aches. your legs can’t even stay open on their own— and they don’t have to, not with the way nanami’s palms are splayed into your inner thighs, keeping them spread wiiiidee like it’s his job.

like this is what he clocked out for.

you fist a hand in his hair, yanking him closer and he moans. actually moans into your cunt.

low and guttural, breath catching sharp in his throat as he sinks deeper into you. his tongue licks a wide, deliberate stripe up your cunt, lathering his entire mouth in the wet sheen of your sweetness.

and god, he’s drunk on it.

like he’s starved, but determined to savor every lick, every suck, every trembling twitch of your hips beneath his tongue. nanami wraps one arm around your thigh, pulling you closer to the edge of the couch, and stays there — nose pressed deep in your crevices, tongue flicking in tight circles, sloppy little suctions in between.

the last time he's eaten pussy like this, was what? back in college? almost two decades ago. yet it's like fucking muscle memory for him, like he's got PTSD.

“that’s it,” he rasps, voice muffled and wrecked, “don’t run. let me taste you, baby.”

your jaw drops. nothing comes out.

because how exactly are you supposed to say even a word with his tongue dragging figure eights over your clit? with his lips sucking bruises into your inner thighs between every flick? with his hands branding their grip into you every time you squirm?

his lips latch around your clit, sucking slow, heavy pulses while the flat of his tongue rolls wide circles around the swollen bud. his head shakes side to side, desperate now, messy, loud slurps filling the room.

you gasp sharply, hips jerking, thighs trembling around his head. “kento—i’m getting clooseee.”

the heel of your foot presses down against the middle of his back, urging him closer, guiding his mouth deeper into you. he groans again, a low, hoarse sound that makes your stomach tighten.

“hah—not yet, sweetheart,” he mutters into your pussy, words muffled by the wetness slicking his lips. “wanna enjoy you a little longer.”

he coaxes softly, voice low. “h-hold out for me. can you do that, pretty girl?” and you nod frantically, even as your body is begging for release.

“atta girl.”

nanami smiles against your cunt and you can feel it—the gentle curve of his lips pressing against your slick, tickling where he’s sucking and licking you raw. his hands stroke soothing down the backs of your thighs, holding you still, thumbs drawing slow circles into your skin.

his tongue flattens again, and you could've sworn you felt him drawing a slow, dragged K against your clit.

he’s just lost in it. in you.

completely, hopelessly enthralled.

you whimper, breath catching in your throat, fat, wet, tears finally pooling at your waterline before streaking down the flushed heat of your cheeks.

“k-kentoo,” you mewl softly, voice sticky with need, breath coming out in short little pants.

“go on,” he cooed softly. “cum for me, sweetheart. wanna feel it on my tongue.”

coiled tight, ready to snap. but his hands stayed firm on your thighs, his tongue pressing a slow, deliberate stroke over your wetness.

your release hits you violently, crashing over you like a rogue wave and you nearly sob. your toes curl into the soles of your shoes, thighs clamping around his head as your hips bucked against his mouth.

your body spasms in a wild, uncontrollable rhythm, slick soaking nanami's chin, his lips, his tongue—and he just took it. drinking you down with soft, broken groans, never once letting up as he licked you through every little tremble.

“that’s it,” his breath is warm as it's breathed against your core. “good girl.”

your body was still trembling, slack with aftershock when nanami finally lifted himself from between your soaked thighs. he wiped his mouth once but it did nothing— his chin was still slick, lips swollen and glistening, the faintest tint of pink glossed from where he’d devoured you.

his hands swept possessively down your sides. palms wide, calloused fingertips dragging over the curve of your waist as he guided you forward.

you gasp softly as he flips you onto your belly, nudging your hips up. your limbs felt weightless, pliant with a deep fatigue.

your knees slide against the leather, the couch creaking beneath you as he arranged you just right—in your hands and knees, back arched, ass lifted.

the cushions dipped behind you, a subtle shifting of weight as nanami knelt up. you hear the slow, metallic “zrrpp” of his zipper lowering, noticing his belt didn’t jingle. 

he’d probably already undone it while his mouth was still between your thighs.

a soft breath hisses through nanami's nose as he fists himself behind you—stroking, just once, the wet sound slick before he presses forward.

“breathe in for me,” nanami enticed, voice steady, one palm braced warm at the small of your back.

his other hand guided himself to your entrance, the tip nudging sweetly between your sobbing folds. “just a little more, sweetheart.”

he eased forward, thick inches dragging into you, stretching you inch by staggering inch.

and it ached, yet in the sweetest way—your hot, slicked walls hugging him so tight, making him curse low under his breath.

“there you go,” he murmured. “such a big girl.”

he wasn’t too long, but god, did his girth make up for it.

a thick, weighted base broad enough to stretch you wide already, the head flaring just slightly as it breached you.

by the time he bottomed out, you were trembling beneath him, hips flush, his pelvis pressing soft against the curve of your ass. stretched full. he paused, both hands gliding down to grip the lush swell of your hips.

his hips drew back, the broad head of his cock dragging slow and heavy along your sensitive walls, before rolling forward again with a deep, deliberate stroke.

“s-sooo, hngh— big,” your voice broke into a sob as your fingers curled into the cushions beneath you. your ass bounced back against his waist, cunt snug around his cock as your moans pitched higher.

the silk of his tie—still looped loose around his own throat, slid free with a soft whisper of fabric. nanami tugged it off carefully, slipping it around your throat instead. the silk hugged the delicate line of your neck as he tied it loosely, gathering the longer end in one hand.

“just so i can hold you steady, heh,” he whispered, almost like he was reassuring himself more than you.

“look at you,” nanami panted softly. “so pretty on my dick— just, hah, imagine what my son would think.”

his breathing was ragged now, heavier with each roll of his hips into yours. the tie pulled snug against your throat every time you rocked back. the next thrust was deeper this time, angling up just right as it punched a sob out of your throat.

“he didn’t know what he had,” he gritted out between strokes, the words dragging rough from somewhere deep in his chest. “i-idiot—threw away something this perfect.”

and if you didn’t know any better, it almost sounded like nanami was angry— jealous even. like the thought of you being mistreated was something he just couldn’t fathom.

his free hand dropped to your waist, steadying you as his rhythm began syncopating. the fog on his glasses was nearly opaque now, slipping low on the bridge of his nose.

and then—

your phone buzzes, followed by your tinny little singsong ringtone, the screen lighting up bright in the dim lighting of the room.

[incoming facetime: 🗑️]

you dazedly blink, barely able to register it through the heat and the fog filling your head.

“p-pick it up,” nanami murmured behind you, voice low, steady, almost too composed. you barely had the coordination, fingers fumbling for the phone. your thumb dragged across the screen, and his face filled the camera.

red. wild-eyed. breathing heavy.

“where the fuck are you? you think this is funny? i’ve been texting and calling all night—”

your face was all he could see at first. hair sticking to your damp temples. your breath shaky. eyelids heavy, barely open.

“answer me,” he barked. “are you with someone? don’t fucking lie—”

you smiled. slow. coy. “oh, i’m with. . . someone.”

“who?” he demanded, voice cracking. “tell me who it is right now, or i swear i'll be both of your asses!”

you tilt the phone. just enough.

the camera catches nanami in his perfect, damning glory— broad chest flushed with exertion, work shirt still open, tie wrapped snug around your throat. his hands heavy on your hips, muscles flexing beneath skin as he fucked into you.

your ex’s jaw dropped. “wait. is that—” his voice pitched. “is that my dad?”

you smiled wider. teeth flashing.

“what the fuck—are you out of your mind?! psycho bitch, you’re fucking insane—”

click.

call ended.

“he’s gonna lose his fucking mind,” you whispered, giggling into your own shoulder.

nanami chuckles deep and out of breath. “let him.”

you feel the way his strokes start to grow heavier, a tremble blooming deep in his thighs, hips snapping forward with less precision now.

nanami’s breath stuttered, grip flexing hard around the tie as if it was the only thing keeping him grounded to your pussy.

“i’m—ah, i’m not gonna last.” he husked, his hips jackhammering into you languidly, making you feel the full thickness of him with every stroke. your slick gushed every time he bottomed out, wet sounds shameless in the otherwise quiet room.

he was so painfully close, yet he wanted to savor this moment. wanted to have this memory seared behind his eyelids long after the night was gone.

your cries were turning breathless, slurred, the pleasure cresting sharp, almost unbearable as you felt that tightness coiling in your stomach once again. “k-kento, please—can’t—”

“don't hold back,” he husked, his breath catching in his throat. “you earned it, sweetheart. let go.”

you nodded frantically, unable to form anything coherent as your release slammed into you hard. violent. white flashes of pleasure detonating in your stomach and ripping through your body.

“fuckfuckfuckfuuck— ” your lashes batted, tiny choked whines spilling from your mouth as his cock twitched deep inside you, swelling thicker, the heavy weight of it pressing into every sensitive nerve as your walls milked him greedily.

nanami's hips faltered, pace stuttering into a sloppy rhythm as he scrambled, releasing the tie from around your throat with a quick, careful tug as he pulled out.

before you could even whine, you feel the heavy weight of his cock dragging up—resting thick and flushed against the dip of your spine.

his breath is broken into low moans, and you barely had a second before the hot, sticky ropes of his release spilled across your back, striping messy against your skin.

just in time.

nanami’s head bowed, blonde strands falling loose from where they’d slipped behind his glasses. you could feel the tremble in his thighs, rolling through his entire body as his climax overcame him.

and for a moment, all you could hear was both of your breaths—deep, messy, syncing. the air smelled like sex. musk. your juices still wet between your legs.

he lingered there for a second longer, hips pressed forward, until he finally exhaled slow.

“shit,” nanami muttered breathlessly. “did i— was that too much?”

his voice cracked gentle now, worried.

your laugh came out light, breathless, sweet—finding his worriedness nothing short of sweet. “no. not at all. felt so good.”

he hummed, quiet relief softening the crease of his brow as he leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to the back of your neck.

“but i guess uh, father’s day is ruined. oops.”

@ssorenz™ do not, copy, repost or translate anywhere without my knowledge.

[jasmineforests]

Lover

[jasmineforests]

She's Crazy But She's Mine

Synopsis: In which everyone wonders why hockey player!Toji is with the weird girl  Warnings: smut, fluff, porn with some plot, fem!reader, some cringe - might hit home for some people lol, cockwarming, semi-exhibitionism, blowjob, unprotected sex, roleplaying, biting, dirty talk (at parts cringy on purpose), boxers sniffing, improper use of hockey sticks, cunnilingus, fingering, not proofread - like seriously, not at all. sorry Word Count: 2k

Toji’s the star of the hockey team — highly skilled, a strong performer, speedy, agile, a visionary, and so damn hot. Everyone loves him: the guys want to be him and the girls want to ride him. With those broad shoulders, his slutty waist, sinful smirk and tempting scar, he’s earned his title as MVP. 

What people don’t get, though, is why he walks the halls of campus with his arm slung over a girl who is clearly not on his level: you wear anime merch, galaxy leggings, and big, boxy glasses you don't seem to actually need. People who have classes with you gossip about how you sit at the back, in the far right corner, chewing on your hair and drawing male characters in intimate positions. One cheerleader even swears you hissed at her when she said she likes your art style. 

After practice, he doesn’t hang back with the guys, instead, he’s heading over to the robotics lab to pick you up.  You’re rambling about circuits, the future of android domination or whatever to some nerd. He blushes when you press close. Toji, at the doorway, is staring daggers at the lanky little shit, who obviously didn’t get the memo about his claim. 

“Ya like nerds, ma? That why you were practically milking his dick in the lab?” He’s bullying his fat cock inside your tight, sloppy pussy. Your ugly-ass leggings are ripped apart at the crotch, legs spread to their limits as he fucks you against some shelves in the janitor’s closet.

Breathless, glasses askew, you reply. “N-no. Was just -ah, Toji, slow down!- just excited to tell him about LADS… I think he’d -hah- really like Zayne.”

He laughs against your neck, sucking at a sensitive spot just to feel you tighten around him. 

“God, if your moans didn’t sound so damn good, I’d stuff your panties in your mouth.”

In the locker room, after a good game, the guys ask him why he’s even with you. They point out that you talk to yourself sometimes, that you have different pictures of pretty men in your phone case every day, wear brightly-coloured clothes you made yourself, and have only ever been seen drinking cans of Monster.

Toji doesn’t bother answering. Why would he? They’ll never understand your dynamic, your appeal, and the fact that he wouldn't be able to shake you off even if he did want to. 

With the pummelling of the water, he hides the nasty slurrrrrrps coming from your mouth as you kneel between his legs in his stall, at the very back of the showers. Toji's always the first one in the locker room after a game because he knows you'll be hiding somewhere; you love to lick, suck and fondle his balls after he's gotten all sweaty and sticky. Something about his 'musk' and 'pheromones' unlocking your 'inner moon goddess.'

You’ve got a tail plugged in your ass, all soaked and pathetic looking, but when it twitches as you clench, empowered by the taste and enormous size of him filling your throat, your hockey player boyfriend can’t help but cum hard. 

“Drink it all up —yeah, just like that, good girl.” He licks his scar when you stick your tongue out, playing with the cum on there with your long fingers, making yourself gag just for him. “Shh, keep quiet, yeah? Don’t want them to catch you. Alright, turn around, baby, show me your pretty pussy.”

Bent over, you smoosh your face against the cold tiles and spread your cheeks for him, purposefully clenching so he can see your juices drool out when he lifts your soggy tail up. Wriggling your ass, you whisper, “Come and plant your seed, oh Dark Lord. Make this mudblood bear fruit for my serpent king.”

He shakes his head in disappointment but sinks his cock into you anyways. “You got back into your Harry Potter phase again, didn’t ya?”

Since he's started dating you, his understanding of pop culture has broadened considerably. For example, just recently, the new Marvel movie came out and you couldn't stop replaying edits of Bucky. He was doing push-ups when you dropped to the ground and crawled right under his body, his arms fully extended. That mischievous grin on your lips could only spell out one thing: trouble. 

That was how he found himself, folding you into a pretzel, in his bedroom. And despite the dangerous hold he had around your neck, you could only whine out, "Harder, Buck!"

"Yeah, Steve, take my fat cock. Milk the Winter out of my Soldie—God, these lines are so shit, ma. Who wrote this garbage?"

Nails digging into his meaty forearm, sweat-slicked and delirious, you reply with a giggle, working your ass back against his pelvis to feel his tip kiss your cervix. "My mootie. Don't worry about it. Come on, we're only in Act Two out of seven. Think you can last?"

He grunts. "Worry 'bout yourself, doll. I can do this all day."

Sometimes, your weirdness doesn't even involve him. Just last week, he came home after practice and dumped his duffel bag in the living room on his way to the bathroom, keen to get clean. When he finished, he noticed the bag unzipped and rifled through. Sighing, he saunters into his bedroom, bends down, grabs your ankle, and drags you out from under his bed.

With his boxers covering your entire face, he tuts. "What have I said about taking my shit? Huh? What did I say about going around and sniffing my boxers like some kinda dog? Said you just gotta ask, didn't I?"

Shamelessly, you come to a kneeling position, pulling his towel off so you can nuzzle his already half-hard cock, still wearing his boxers on your head. "Sorry, Toji."

"Show me, ma. Show me how damn sorry you are."

Not a moment of peace is given to him with you as his girlfriend. Not when you always have a new hobby, when there's drama unfolding all the time in all the online communities and fandoms you're part of, and certainly not when your appetite is seemingly endless. He can't even tape his new stick up for grip without you climbing on his back and laying kisses all over his neck. "No."

"But I wanna!"

Trying to shape you off, he says, "You gotta wait. Need to get a feel for it before I keep taping."

Of course, you don't listen to him. So, he's forced to throw the tape aside and let you crawl onto the floor, between his legs. The hockey stick is hooked on your clothed pussy, pressed deliciously right against your slit.

"Needy fucking girl, aren't ya? Can't fucking wait. Well, fine. Go on, then. Make it a good one. Make it worth my damn time."

Grinding, you get lost in the friction, groping your bouncy tits over your shirt. He huffs a laugh when you meet his gaze, eyes clouded over with desire, and lick a long stripe up the shaft. "Toji, tie my wrists to the ends and fuck me from behind, please."

"Sure, but I get to choose the movies for the next week. Getting tired of all the Lord of the Rings shit."

You moan in agreement when he suddenly tugs on the stick, pulling it hard against your clit. Your pussy juices coat the toe and he can't resist rubbing his throbbing cock over his shorts, already imagining all the good luck seeping into the stick, carrying him onto his victory.

"Cum, baby. Get it all wet for me, yeah? I'll be sure to thank you real good when I win next time."

Showing up to practice with a crick in his neck, Toji shrugs off any questions about it. His teammates would only tease him for being a simp if they found out he had spent hours the night before eating you out under your desk as you gamed.

He had three fingers stuffed inside your drenched cunt, curling them again and again against your gummy spot as he sucked hard on your pulsing clit. Your thighs quivered around his head, keeping him close, threatening to suffocate him; there are worst ways to die, he supposed.

"Fuck! Whose goddamn Venti is that? Did they even equip any fucking artefacts? I gotta carry this team with my Yaelan. Again."

Toji fought the urge to roll his eyes, and instead focused on rolling your clit around with his tongue, teasing the bundle of nerves with his skills. Despite your less than perfect diet, he finds that you actually always tastes good. You only eat fast food and chicken nuggets shaped like dinosaurs, yet you're sweet, mild, and completely addictive.

Sucking hard, partly to bring you closer to an orgasm and partly so he could bring your attention back to him rather than whatever's on your screen, he listened to your sharp intake of breath. "Ah! T-toji, be gentle. I'm still -ngh!- sensitive."

"Hurry up and win then, ma. My balls are about to fucking burst."

You giggled, brushing a hand through his hair, scratching just right and gaining a low groan out of him. "Give me one more -hah- o-orgasm and I'll let you -fuuuuuck, Toji- creampie me. You can watch it ooze out like custard filling, whatd'ya say, baby?"

"Yeah, sure. But don't make me recite any lines from whatever mafia erotica shit you're reading, yeah?"

He bit back a chuckle when he felt you pout, through some cosmic connection (your words, never his) and shoved your chair back suddenly. Standing to his full height, he lifted your hips with him, leaving you dangling in the air, clinging to the armrests desperately as he sucked the soul out of your drooling pussy. "Yes, fuck! God, y-you're so good to me. I love -hngh!- you! Marry me!"

"Shut up. That's my fucking line."

Even his brother sometimes wonders why you two are even together. It’s not that the younger boy doesn’t like you, no, of course, he does — you’re nice, and you bake him cookies. He just thinks you two are so different from each other. Toji likes sports and fitness. You like anime and bedrotting.

He's brought it up before, and his older brother would only muss his hair and tell him, 'You're asking questions you're not ready to hear the answers to.'

What he doesn’t get to see, because he’s at school, is that you two have found a common ground, a way to blend your worlds together. 

Your boyfriend watches sports on the TV, beer in hand and you on his lap, arms and legs wrapped around his body. You watch whatever anime you’re obsessed with at the moment on your iPad, which you hold up behind his head, nuzzling close into the crook of his neck. Occasionally, you’ll take a long whiff of his scent or chomp on his skin, and in retaliation, he’ll rut his cock deep inside you. Something about quality time and cockwarming really gets you going, apparently. 

“Up, baby. Need to get another drink.” He grunts when you tighten your hold around him, even going as far as to clamp down on his throbbing cock, grinding your hips around. A dribble of cum runs down his balls. “No? You’re a real piece of work. Alright, hold on tight then.”

Every step he takes drives him deeper inside you, nudging his fat cock head against that gooey spot inside of you. “Ah, Toji, your rock-hard member is impaling me!”

Groaning, he smacks your ass. “Do you gotta call it those weird ass names, ma? Ain’t ‘dick’ just fine?”

“What about ‘manhood?’”

“Try again.”

You hum. “‘Shaft?’ Or, ‘wizard’s staff?’”

He takes a swig of his beer, sighing. “Forget it.”

Yeah, his girl might be weird, but you're cute. Toji’s never met anyone else who can get his dick hard and leaking like there’s no tomorrow all while you ramble about which fictional world you'd love to be ‘isekaid’ into, whatever that means. You might be weird, but you help his brother out with his homework, massage aches out of his limbs after a particularly violent game, don't judge him for not having many real friends or for his family situation, and you push his desires to their very limits with your wild imaginations and lack of reservations. You’re incredible and people would never understand that.

And plus, Toji really doesn’t think you’re that weird, anyway.

“Hey, Toji? Can you cum inside and then eat me out? I want to record you making bubbles on my clit.”

Never mind.

[jasmineforests]

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: asking for a massage from the king of curses is a brave thing to dare and do. but maybe he'll make an exception for you, his pregnant lover.

tags. true form!sukuna x pregnant!female reader. fluff. you can be his concubine or wife or whatever. foot massage. reader gets called 'woman, brat'

you’re currently lounged back on the plush futon you share with the one and only ryomen sukuna. the big man - as per usual - takes up almost all of the space which leaves you no choice but to snuggle up against him. not that you’re complaining about that. he’s like your personal teddy bear. calling him that to his face might have some unfortunate consequences though.

sukuna sits beside you, his muscular frame relaxed yet somehow still radiating a menacing aura. the bedroom is filled with a comfortable and intimate silence—a stark contrast to the icy tension that once dominated your early days together.

the pink-haired man glances down at you, his red eyes narrowing as he takes in your pouty and uncomfortable expression. you’re absentmindedly rubbing your rounded belly which reminds him of the life he’s planted in your womb. his son and future heir. a flicker of pride shines in his eyes at the thought.

“‘kuna,” your voice cuts through the silence while you squirm into a more comfortable position. you’re already in your last trimester and your body is aching all over. especially when you have to walk on your now swollen feet. you’ve tried every remedy there is on earth and yet the discomfort doesn’t fully disappear.

you pout and tilt your head to look at sukuna, “my feet are killing me.”

you leave it at that, but there’s a pleading look in your eyes as you gaze up at the king of curses. it’s an indirect request—a request to relieve that ache in your feet in the form of a massage. maybe he can do your back too while he’s at it.

sukuna rolls his eyes at that pouty expression of yours. he knows what you’re implying, though it seems like he couldn’t care any less. “so?” he replies curtly, the single word dripping with disinterest.

you let out a scoff in return and sulk even more at his cold dismissal. the seconds tick by and it leaves you wondering if sukuna doesn’t even feel the slightest urge to help you out. you’ve always known that he’s a heartless man, literally, but it’s during moments like these that you yearn for just a crumb of empathy.

and so the silence stretches between you two, thick and heavy.

just as you’re about to turn on your side and deal with the discomfort on your own, sukuna’s large hand reaches out and grabs your ankle. his fingers wrap around the flesh before yanking your foot towards him with surprising force.

sukuna grumbles something incomprehensible under his breath before impatiently flicking your sensitive skin. “what are you waiting for, woman?” his voice is deep and low, almost a growl. he roughly places one of your feet in his lap, “hurry up and place the other one here too.”

despite his harsh words and rough manhandling, there’s a hint of something softer in his voice, a subtle undercurrent of concern that he will never admit out loud.

you’re stunned for a good couple seconds. your eyes are wide as you look up at your partner but it doesn’t take long for you to comply.

better grab your chance before he changes his mind and actually leaves you to your own devices.

you obediently place your other foot in his lap and relax back against the soft pillows. sukuna glances down at them, his brows furrowing slightly as he tries to figure out how to proceed. he’s never given massages to anyone, only ever received them. this is a privilege for you, but also a new experience for him.

his calloused hands look almsot comically out of place against your delicate, swollen feet. he starts to knead the arch of your right foot, fingers sinking into the soft flesh. he’s a bit rough with it—his touch firm and somewhat clumsy.

you’re reminded of the fact that his hands are only made for battle and destruction when he increases the pressure without any regard for your comfort.

“…you're quite heavy handed,” you mumble and follow it up with a groan. you don’t want to interrupt your peaceful moment, but your leg twitches and you squirm, a clear sign that sukuna is a bit too rough with your achy limbs.

the king of curses uses one of his four hands to firmly yet gently smack the sole of your foot. you should be grateful that he’s even willing to try to do this, he thinks.

“shut up, brat,” sukuna grumbles, but his actions speak louder than his words. his calloused fingers gentle their ministrations on your skin slightly, now a perfect balance of pressure and tenderness.

the silence falls upon the room once more, broken only by the occasional creak of the floorboards beneath the futon and the faint sound of sukuna’s hands working over your feet. he uses too much pressure at times, his grip bordering on painful, before easing up and stroking your skin almost gently.

“mmh, that’s perfect,” you moan and close your eyes in contentment. sukuna’s large, strong hands knead and squeeze the soft flesh of your soles, much like one would knead dough. it’s rough but not too much like it was earlier.

you smile to yourself as you compliment his skills, “you’re getting really good at this, ryo.”

the pink-haired man spares you a quick glance. he lets out a condescending scoff at the way you seem to melt at his touch.

“mhhm,” sukuna lets out a short and indifferent hum. he lets a short silence fall before a wicked smirk tugs at the corners of his lips. “. . .have to make sure the meat is nice and tender after all,” he adds and licks his lips as a carnal hunger flashes through his crimson eyes.

the mouth on his stomach suddenly opens up, the big and heavy tongue darting out to lick a disgusting stripe up your foot. the king of curses even lets it nibble on your skin, emphasising the so-called threat of readying you for his consumption.

“ew!” you squeal and kick your legs, shivering at the icky sensation. the switch in his mood caught you off guard, “quit it!”

that stomach tongue of his still creeps you out at times. even more so when you realise he can actually just use it to gobble you up.

sukuna’s eyes flash with amusement at your reaction, but he settles down and simply clicks his tongue in mock annoyance. “tsk, fine,” he grumbles. “now stop movin’ or these will actually serve as my dinner,” he yanks at your feet and holds them down firmly so he can continue the massage.

you do as told almost instantly and stop squirming. you watch as the mouth on sukuna’s abs closes and forms a thin line once more—the immediate threat gone. you breathe out in relief and regain your composure.

and yet you can’t help but provoke him again just two seconds later.

you grin and stick your tongue out at your partner once you thought of a smart retort. “surely you wouldn’t actually do such a thing to the mother of your child,” you taunt and pat your swollen tummy.

sukuna raises an eyebrow at your comment. pulling out that card with a morally ambiguous man like him sure is an interesting choice. “oh yeah? try me,” he says in a scarily serious voice that has you rethinking your daring words.

you quickly shake your head when you see the mouth on his abs open up again, that damned tongue peeking out slowly and teasingly.

oh, that man sure knows how to deal with you.

“uhmmm, yeah, no thanks.”

“that’s what i thought.”

[jasmineforests]

Weak hero au!Sukuna, who is an intelligent delinquent that leads a small organization called Heian Bicycles, where he has his minions steal bicycles and resell them to buyers. Who is the top student at school, placing number one in Tokyo’s mathematics rewards for gifted students.

Weak hero au!Sukuna, who doesn’t engage with students at school like some of the other delinquents, but everyone can feel it. They just know there’s no messing with the top dog of Jujutsu High, not unless you have some kind of death wish.

Weak hero au!Sukuna, who was perfectly content in his solitude, until you transferred into his class. You, the innocent and oblivious butterfly that had a natural charm to bring people together. You made friends easily, tooth-rottingly kind, and worst of all, you could never stop talking. The moment you introduced yourself to the class, he lost interest and continued to focus on the calculus problem before him.

Later on, the bell rang for lunch. Sukuna originally planned to eat his lunch in class and continue his studies, well, at least until you came with your bubble personality and annoyingly bright smile. You leaned over his shoulder, pestering him about what he’s doing. You even had the guts to criticize his milk and granola bar, insisting he come with you to the cafeteria for a ‘proper’ meal.

Weak hero au!Sukuna, who is as emotional as a rock while you rambled about whatever came to your mind. He wanted to find you annoying, but some weird and long dormant part of him stir. While he only offered you a few words, he found himself actually interested in a conversation for once. When lunch is over, you look up at him with bright eyes, hopeful about trying to find more time to get to know him. “Hey! Why don’t we grab a bite after school? You’re paying though.” Sukuna glances down at you, his red eyes boring into your own before they fixed back ahead. “No.” He replied sternly, earning a disappointed huff from you.

Weak hero au!Sukuna, who is teased by Weak hero au!Toji and Satoru after school. They endlessly jab at him the whole walk to the bike shop, his shaved eyebrows twitching with restrained annoyance from their incessant talking. He didn’t know what was so funny; it wasn’t like you and him were close. You only talked to him today.

Weak hero au!Sukuna, who, months later, finds himself lowering his defenses slightly around you. He becomes more responsive, his features less tense as he’s helping you out with some difficult problems in algebra. He felt a deep part of himself stir when your eyes seemed to brighten when you finally understood something—he loved that you were a quick learner. He helps you with more of your studies, something completely uncharacteristic of his reputation. Lately, you’ve noticed that his sharp and piercing gaze softens slightly when he looks at you, and the fact only makes you smile. Knowing that deep down, maybe Sukuna isn’t as bad as people make him out to be.

“You should try smiling more. It’ll get you some friends.” You teased, turning your head and sending him a small grin. Sukuna looked at you for a moment, sighing out while leaning back in the stiff library desk chair. “I don’t do friends.” He said casually, his big hand sliding off the table and down to his lap. “But I’m your friend!” You scoff through your noses, your smile only growing. Sukuna couldn’t help but snort, a rare smirk crossing his handsome face while tilting his head.

“You’re… tolerable.” You scoff in disbelief, which only causes his mischievous smirk to grow. He didn’t really show it, but Sukuna actually didn’t mind your company. Most would be too afraid to even look at him, much less have the guts to tease him about having little friends. But he couldn’t deny the draw to you, even if another part of him knew that he couldn’t stay with you forever.

Weak hero au!Sukuna, who once again declines your offer to walk home together. Ever since you met, you’ve tried to get him to hang out after school but he only declines your offers. It gets you a little annoyed sometimes, even if your friends warn you about getting too close to a guy like him. They always tell you about rumors, rumors that Sukuna leads an illegal organization, but you don’t listen. You’ve talked to Sukuna; he could never do that, right?

Weak hero au!Sukuna, who is secretly followed by you after school ends. It’s amazing how far he walks to his house; you can estimate you’re about 2 miles away from school, secretly wondering why he even bothers to walk this far. Your curiosity piques when you see he’s putting his phone to his ear, mumbling about something incoherent. You wish you could get closer to listen, as rude as it is. You watch him turn through a narrow alleyway, his footsteps softly echoing against the stone walls while you follow quietly behind, making sure to keep distance.

Weak hero au!Sukuna, who makes his presence known in the workshop. All his peers stand up, making way for the merciless boss who is glaring daggers through the eyes of the little traitor he caught. You’re just outside the ran-down building, sneakily making your way towards the side to get a glimpse inside. You’re too short to look through the window, so you grab a small crate and place it firmly against the wall, carefully balancing yourself on it while trying to peek over the windowsill.

Once you finally do, your eyes widen slightly seeing Sukuna deliver a harsh slap to a quivering man’s face. There’s blood dripping down his lips, a thin sheen of sweat coating his half-naked body as the man writhed at Sukuna’s feet. With a blank expression, Sukuna drags the man back up with his fist gripping the man’s hair, threatening to tear a few loose strands before delivering a nasty punch to his nose. You back away, stunned by this new side of Sukuna. You stumbled off the crate, losing your balance and knocking over a few cans before sprinting away.

“Hey, someone was just spying.” A man with long, silky black hair and a half bun stated, his purple gaze flicking a through the group before turning to their leader. “Should we go after them?” “Let them go.” Sukuna mutters, his shave brows furrowed into an expression of mild irritation. If you were to tell someone about what you saw, things really might just get messy.

Weak hero au!Sukuna, who mentions nothing about what happened yesterday and neither do you. Matter of fact, you avoid Sukuna the next day. You’ve been really conflicted since last night, the question of ‘Is that the real him?’ Playing over and over in your mind while remembering all the times he was so nice to you. Was it all just a front? You were naïve to think the school’s most feared student may have actually liked you in a normal way.

Sukuna noticed that you were awfully avoidant today, but he didn’t try to fix it. After all, what was he to do? Tell you it wasn’t him? Perhaps it was a good thing you found out his true nature this way. You were starting to become a weakness for him, and in the world of delinquents and gangsters, he couldn’t afford that kind of weakness. Even if his heart felt a little more heavy with the possibility you may never speak to him again.

[jasmineforests]

Fratboy! Sukuna

Pairings - Frat boy! Sukuna x Nerdy Brat! reader (my pairings are so extra LMAO)

Warnings - college AU, public play, fingering, oral ( f and m recieving) cum swallowing, rough sex, size kink, ass smacking, hair pulling, teasing, drinking, weed smoking, reader AND Kuna talking shit, Kuna whimpering, overall silly ass hcs with smut (this was a request for Kuna from Took you Like a Shot)

I should be working on my wips but instead have over 3k words of Sukuna smut <3 Now back to those lol!!

Fratboy! Sukuna was the king of this damn college, everyone knew him, whether it was as a friend, a hook up, crush or a rival. Running the frat with Suguru and Satoru, the three of them constantly had parties, and Sukuna was the best out of the three at beer pong by far. He's never lost a match in the three years of college, not once. So when he sees a nerdy little thing challenge him - a girl he's only seen with her head in a book passing by and maybe thought how pretty she was but - he scoffs, looking down at her. At you.

Fratboy! Sukuna has his crowd around him, so many girls fawn over him, one has his beer in her hand and gives him sip, one has his blunt lit, giving him hits. Another is holding his water bottle, all while he's in a ridiculous toga, that shows far too much of his toned, tatted physique. You try to ignore it as you adjust your own outfit, feeling ridiculous in it, but Sukuna couldn't stop thinking of how good that white dress looked on your skin, glinting under the lights. Dumb shit he shouldn't be thinking while high off his ass and lit, but it's there. 'What ya waiting for, brat, hmm? Scared I'll win?' He asks then across the table, with a big grin, and you glare up at him. 'No way, you'll see, it's all about math'

Fratboy! Sukuna bursts into laughter, and you itch to smack his arguably far too handsome face, while his girls all giggle around him. But Satoru comes over, murmuring in your ear then - 'he thinks you're hot, use it to your advantage' you gasp, looking at the white haired leader of the frat then. 'No way!?' He just smirks, and Sukuna scowls at you across the long beer pong table now. You sigh, there is so much Axe body spray and love spell, cigarette smoke and stale beer in the air, it's nice to inhale whatever fancy cologne Satoru wears for a moment. 'Distract him, pookie' you laugh softly, unbelieving when he runs back over to Sukuna, who bounces a ball right in your first cup.

Fratboy! Sukuna has said you're pretty many times but he didn't need Satoru to rat him out, he doesn't want to admit that he's shy around you. He's not shy around anyone, you're just an outlier, an annoyance really, leaning forward now and showing far too much of your pretty breasts in that dress, sinking a ball right into his cup then. Sukuna's cock starts throbbing from the look in your pretty eyes behind those glasses. 'Beginners luck, tch' he grumbles, you giggle a bit, sipping on your drink. 'Oh yeah? We'll see huh?' and you proceed to annihilate his ass at at, a girl taking down the 'big, bad Sukuna' like it's fucking nothing, making him angrier with every bounce.

Fratboy! Sukuna glares daggers at you across the crowded party, which many have gathered to watch the downfall of him, you have two of his cups left and he's only gotten one of yours, torn between wanting to fuck you right on this table and wanting to show you up for your little attitude. His red eyes glint then, he's so focused on how you look he's fucking up every throw, and now his friends are all making fun of him while you have the audacity to giggle. When you sink the last ball in, two boys from the frat lift you up on their shoulders, and you giggle, arms up in the air while he pouts, crossing his arms and looking away. 'She beat your ass bro-' Sukuna shoots a death glare at Suguru now, who's too high to care, laughing so hard he's almost snorting a long with Satoru. 'Oh fuck both of you. I'm just... off tonight or something'

Fratboy! Sukuna watches as you beat everyone at fucking beer pong, it's actually stupid how good you are. He ends up standing next to you, smoking on his blunt as he watches your technique, so close he can inhale whatever sweet scent you wear, filling his nostrils then and making his mouth itch to taste you. Do you taste as good as you smell? You look back then, lips parted as he's sniffing your neck without noticing what he's doing. 'Are you sniffing me, Sukuna?' he glares now, standing up and shaking his head. 'Tch, you wish, I just... y'know, I wanna make a bet with you' he can't admit that he absolutely was just sniffing you, no way. Your eyes light up the challenge. 'Oh, what bet?' you ask, tilting your head now, when he leans low, a hand brushing across your waist over thin cheap costume fabric, it's nothing to prevent his big hand from burning your skin.

Fratboy! Sukuna feels you trembling as he stands behind you now, his hard body against your back, and you try to focus, but he's fucking up your senses far more than any sips of beer you've had. 'I bet you can't stay quiet with my fingers in you. Ah, you nervous now, brat?' his whisper against your ear makes your cunt clench and throb with need, you look back at him with wide eyes, while he smirks at you, raising a thick brow, while his full lips are far too close. 'Oh yeah, what do I win if I can?' your ask shocks him, he assumed you'd be more... shy, but your challenge is all over your face, and you feel his hardness pressing against your back now, he wonders if you feel the precum leaking at the thought of touching you, pressing harder, your hands gripping the flimsy pong table. 'If you win, I'll drink that pussy up and have you cum all over my face,' you jerk when he touches you secretly, as if he's just hugging on you, but he's teasing your clit already, whispering - 'and if you win?'

Fratboy! Sukuna chuckles, pink locks falling just so over his arrogant brow, big ass grin with his straight white teeth glinting as he looks down at you. 'If I win, well...' he's whispering in your ear, making you tremble now, while you land another winning shot, and his typical girls look over jealously at the two of you, but he completely ignores them. 'You'll suck me till I cum, and you'll have to grind on my leg all fucking pathetic' you glare now at him, teeth clenching while he slips a finger under the slit of your gown, hidden firmly by your dress and the table. 'You're so arrogant, you wish I would. I'd make you whimper like a little bitch' Sukuna scowls deep now, at your fucking arrogance, but also... how dare you have done that to anyone but him!? The thought pisses him off irrationally. Makes him want to make sure your cunt remembers his shape and no one else's. 'Think you're so good at it, brat? Tch, we'll see.' You smile now, too pretty for him to focus, shaking your head. 'No, we'll see if you're any good at eating pussy'

Fratboy! Sukuna has clearly had you pegged all wrong, thinking you're some cute innocent thing when you have a mouth like that, wracking him with images of you on your knees, lips wrapped around his tip, when he finds you under your panties. He hardly holds back his moan, feeling your slick cunt pouring against his fingers. 'If you make noise, don't you lose?' you whisper, he smirks at you then, finding your clit and watching your eyes flutter shut, feeling her twitch under his fingertips. 'Focus on that game huh? before you lose' you clench your teeth again, hips shifting as wetness pours out, Sukuna casually sips his beer as if he's not rolling perfect patterns on your little twitchy clit, and you throw another ball as if you're not dying to grind against that hard cock pressing insistently.

Fratboy! Sukuna has met his match at beer pong, but he hears your soft whimper when he teases a kiss on your bare shoulder, running his fingers up and down your slit, and that sharp intake of breath as he feels your tight cunt gripping as he slides a thick digit in. 'You doin' okay, brat? so fuckin wet from some touches?' you glare again but it's interrupted by the squelching sound of your wetness in both of your ears and your gasp, which you bite back before shaking your head. 'I'm good' is all you manage, hearing his chuckle, when he inserts another finger, stretching you out. You thank God for loud ass music and laughter, or you swear your cunt was so loud people would hear. 'greedy cunt, she wants more, huh?' you say nothing, focusing on the cups, missing your ball then, frustrated and overheated, Sukuna watches the blush dance on your cheeks as his fingers curl up in your soppy little hole. 'Aw, poor baby is fucking up her shots'

Fratboy! Sukuna would love to lose to you, to bury his face in the soaking cunt drooling down his fingers, but part of him also wants to win because he always does, and fucking that bratty mouth just makes his cock twitch against his toga. He's lost in how tight you are, your little wiggles and gasps as he holds you against him, fingers hitting that spongy spot while he leans over, an arm braced on the table, the asshole actually holds conversations, grinning while you're about to cum. You try to hold back, cunt pulsing now, vision blurred by how good they feel, thighs trembling as slick pours down your inner thighs now, making it slippery and messy, gulping down a bottle of water and almost choking while he thumbs your clit at the same time, leaning close. 'How ya doing, beer pong champion?' his mocking tone should infuriate you, but all you wanna do is cum, and it's like he knows, but you swallow it down, smiling. 'I'm great!'

Fratboy! Sukuna god his jaw just drops when you win that tournament, not making barely a noise despite how wet you are, how jerky your hips are moving, you swallow that water and smile victoriously when he sighs, removing his fingers, leaving your cunt aching. 'Fuck, guess I might as well see what I'm in for' he murmurs, dejected at losing, he never loses, and he pulled out all the stops on that cunt. He takes his fingers then, sucking you off him casually, cheeks hollowing, making your tummy flip as he does, when his eyes flutter shut and he moans as he tastes you, it all feels too real then. All the shit talking didn't prepare you for how sexy he would look, what that action would do to your body and mind. His red eyes are so dilated they look fucking black when he grips your wrist now, leaning low - 'you won, brat, let's go, now'

Fratboy! Sukuna drags you behind him unceremoniously to his room then, and instead of kissing you or letting you touch him, he immediately locks the door, getting on his knees in front of you, a hot open mouthed kiss on your thigh as it trembles. 'Sukuna, just because you won doesn't mean you have to... I can- ah!' he's already eyeing your soaking wet cunt, so drenched your panties are sticking to you, the outline apparent, his breath on your inner thigh making matter worse. 'A bet is a bet, but I'd be eating you even if you won' he curses under his breath at the vulnerable statement, but you ease against his door then, relaxing, and brushing silky pink locks back. 'You would?' he just scoffs now, attitude back, glaring as he slips your panties off, you eye a collection of them then on his dresser and glare. 'You're not keeping them!' he chuckles now, nipping your inner thigh. 'will you just shut up and...' he laps at your cunt now, earning you banging your head against the door as you hiss, hips bucking. 'Can't even take one lick, huh?'

Fratboy! Sukuna talks a lot of shit to cover up the fact that you have the prettiest pussy he's seen, in fact he doesn't think anything will compare to it now, the taste sweet like your scent - no, sweeter - if he was a little bitch maybe he'd write some dumb poem about that flavor, but instead all you get is a husky - fuck - while he devours your soppy little cunt now, teasing and flicking your clit until he latches his mouth. 'mnh! oh my God, I... ngh!' you're reduced to nothing while he worships you on his knees, dressed like some goddess and he's sipping the finest nectar, red eyes darting up while you tug at his locks, hurting his scalp and making him harder while you do. 'Sukuna, m'close! fuck...' him edging you early didn't help matters, he just grins against you, wicked tongue flicking just so, teeth nipping your clit until you shatter for him, orgasm rocking your body until you can't see, gushing arousal down this man's face, and he drinks it all up too.

Fratboy! Sukuna almost cums licking you, finally pulling back and standing, hovering so tall over you, you almost fall so he wraps and arm around your waist. 'No talking shit, huh? where's all that attitude, brat?' you just yank him down by the golden leaf on his toga, whispering - 'shut up, Sukuna' and kiss him, tasting your arousal on his lips, before shoving him on his bed now, earning a shocked look on the huge man's face. Sukuna lifts and lifts heavy, and you're literally tiny and nothing in comparison - he plays football, he's an athlete, but he's weak kneed from you, helpless and irritated about it. You straddle him, your glasses fogging up from your kisses, and he grips your hips, hands shaking as he slips up your dress, and you reveal him, flushing. 'No boxers, you're so slutty, Sukuna' your words end him, he whimpers when you touch his tip with your finger, already leaking precum, you lap it off your thumb- and that's when he really knows he had you wrong. You're a little fucking freak, smiling down at him, cunt leaking down against his thick muscled thighs. 'You're yummy too - ah!'

Fratboy! Sukuna scowls at your audacity, lifting you up by your hips, as you view all of his huge, veiny cock, so big you know you can't take it, no guy is even close that you've been with, but you sure will fucking try. You figure he'll ease you on it, as he holds you up in the damn air and you flail, before he slides you all the way down his length in one stroke and you scream out. He groans as he feels it, smirking up at you under sooty pink lashes, watching your eyes roll back, your hips wiggle in his firm hold. 'Can't take it, brat?' he taunts, lifting and dragging you down that veiny length again, and you try to scowl back, but fail, moaning. 'I can, I can fuck give me a minute... monster cock what the f-fuck...' he's chuckling with delight, but you're clenching again, just making him moan himself, as he starts fucking up into your cunt, and it burns- the fucking stretch so intense you feel like he's splitting you in half, but you want it, fuck you want it - him slamming that cervix over and over.

Fratboy! Sukuna almost busts quick, stopping then, flipping you over until you're on your hands and knees, wrapping your hair around his first and sliding his cock back in, watching how small your cunt is compared to it. 'Making it disappear, such a good little slut for me, aren't you?' he's talking shit you'd never deal with but you like it from him, damn him. He's splitting you apart with every thrust, watching the creamy ring form at the base while both of your costumes barely hang on, he's scrunching it up your hips, smacking the fuck out of you as he pulls your hair so hard, and you just whine out - 'more, fuck, please more' and Sukuna gives it to you. He fucks you until you're drooling, heavy balls smacking that clit and making you cum, milking him already as your gummy walls grip and spasm, he smacks you again, watching his hand print form and groaning. 'you're so sweet like this, this what you wanted?'

Fratboy! Sukuna expects you to argue but you're too far gone, fucked from one orgasm into another, the smacks of skin loud in his room, while you grip his sheets and he presses your head down, fucking harder and harder, so hard you don't know if you can take it, you have to take off your glasses and shove them aside, burying your face against his bed. His cock fills you so good it's unbearable, all you can do is cry out into his bed while he's whispering utter filth - 'made f'me, isn't she?' you just nod weakly at it. 'Perfect cunt, aw you can't talk now, brat huh?' you just whine out, there was clearly a way to make you less competitive and that was getting railed in a frat house by Sukuna.

Fratboy! Sukuna barely pulls out in time, crying out and whining again as he cums, jerking his cock while you catch your breath, you struggle to get up, cunt fucking aching, turning to watch him. With his clean hand he hands you your glasses, as you slip them on and watch cum still oozing out of the hole of his reddened tip, so much cum. Your thighs quiver as you eye him now, as the two of you just sit there in the quiet for a moment, then you shock him, shoving him on his back again, breasts spilling and making him twitch with more need. 'Let me clean you up, Sukuna, it's the least I can do. Made you make all that noise, didn't I?' He glares at you, but once you're sucking all that cum off him with an expert tongue, and sliding him deep down your throat, until he's licked clean, he's gotta admit - you really were better at everything than him.

I love this man lol

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[jasmineforests]

Ex Husband!Toji and Milf!Reader hehe hohohohoho

part 1

Ex Husband!Toji who you left because he was... bad. Submerged in debt, addicted to gambling and alcohol, and who disappeared one day right after your youngest son, Megumi, turned five.

Ex Husband!Toji who comes back one day. A big bouquet in hand, a job as a security guard in the bag, and the promise that he has changed. Who has acquired a scar over the lip.

Ex Husband!Toji who promises, swears and gives proof that he has never been with another woman ever since you two divorced. Who claims that the only woman he could ever dream of being in bed with is you.

Ex Husband!Toji who fucks you so hard in the bed you once shared, the bed you will share again. Who manhandles you in the meanest mating press, full nelsons, anything you could imagine.

Ex Husband!Toji who hasn't changed a bit since you two last saw each other. Muscles still chiseled, arms as big as your head, firm chest and fat cock. Although you could swear that he has grown down there ever since you last saw him, or not, you could be hallucinating at the belly bulge that pokes from your insides whenever his cock is buried deep inside.

Ex Husband!Toji who is a thousand times more possessive than you remember, practically barking at whatever man that isn't him or Megumi gets too close to you.

Ex Husband!Toji who can only grin when a lanky looking nineteen year old knocks on his door claiming he is going to kick his ass. Who goes outside and kicks him on the ground, not escaping a busted lip and a bruise on the cheekbone. And who gives you the nastiest french kiss right as the white haired menace is carried away by his friends.

Ex Husband!Toji who promises to fuck another baby into you. Just for good measure, for the bad time he made you spend while watching that little boy get beat up. Who gropes at your breasts, suckling at the nipple and saying the nastiest shit you've ever heard. "Can't wait for this to gimme milk, our lil' baby will have to share with papa." Absolutely foul.

Ex Husband!Toji who snores like a fucking train and sleeps like a bear. Who clings to your body, completely engulfing you. A blessing in the winters, a curse in the summers. Who you can't wake up no matter you much you squirm and thrash in his embrace, and who may or may not have been woken up with a cold glass of water thrown to his face... with Megumi's assistance, of course.

Ex Husband!Toji who gets a boner at how your body has changed. At how you have new curves, new edges, new stretch marks and pretty sun kiss marks all over your skin. Who traces them with rough, calloused fingers while you sleep.

Ex Husband!Toji who can't get enough of your cooking. And who loves to circle your waist with his arms and lean his chin over your shoulder as you cook. Who may or may not also grind himself all over the curve of your ass while doing all that.

Goodbye barely legal Gojo, you'll do better in heaven... I guess.

Toji M.List

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[jasmineforests]

You've Ghost To Be Kidding

Synopsis: in which you move into a haunted house and are seduced by ghost!sukuna Warning: 18+, porn with little plot, cursing, dubcon?, kinda horror but not scary at all, lots of cunnilingus, fingering, groping and molesting, nipple play, tentacles, full nelson, improper use of a broom, exhibitionism, voyeurism, foot play, blowjob, masturbation, a little somnophilia, monster-fúcking, kinda threesome? ig, classic dumb girl in horror movie with no survival instincts, not proofread Word Count: 2.7k

There’s a ghost in your home. 

You’ve just moved in last week and already you can tell there’s someone else here with you. Things move on their own even though you don’t see them move. You place a book down on a table and you’ll come back to it on the floor. Lights turn on and off on their own. Sometimes they even flicker incessantly for an hour or two, or until you get fed up and leave the room. At night, you hear scratching against the door, things literally going bump and thump, followed by heavy footsteps.

They’re all petty stuff, which is why you can stomach the irritation considering the rent is dirt-cheap. At most, you'll simply roll your eyes whenever the ghost acts up which apparently pisses it off more.

What’s been bothering you most, however, is the fact that the ghost is apparently very fucking horny. 

He — and yes, you know it’s a he because only a man could be so annoying and pathetic — gropes you randomly during the day. You’ll be washing up some dishes, minding your own business as one does, when suddenly, you’ll feel big, cold hands on your hips groping the flesh there. Worse, you can even feel a nose skim the length of your neck, inhaling your scent, and the ghost’ll blow air at your skin as if he’d exhaled in deep satisfaction.

Even when you're just watching TV, sat on the sofa, you'll feel a ghoulish grasp on your ankles, pulling your legs until your feet are held in the air. Something cold, long and hard presses itself against the pads of your feet, rubbing along. Popping popcorn in your mouth, you yawn as the sofa creaks, cold liquid beginning to coat your toes. You don't know for sure what he's doing but you have an idea.

Showering is also another story. Bare and wet, you massage shampoo into your scalp, humming to a song on your phone when it begins to glitch, making record scratching sounds. Your Lizzo song is replaced with heavy breathing and mumblings that oddly resemble the word, 'mine,' on repeat. Big, foreboding hands creep into the tresses of your hair, covering your own. They push and pull, applying pressure around your scalp, really working in your shampoo. With a sigh, you let him do the work for you.

After all, your arms were getting tired. So it seems like a fair exchange for him to grind that, by now, familiar length in between the globes of your ass, nudging you against the wall, threatening to drown you under the barrage of water.

Truthfully, you once considered hiring an exorcist or a priest or something. But once he stopped being so hostile against you and you found a freakish routine with him, the idea flew out the window. Who else would know to open a cabinet with all the bowls for you right after you've picked up the milk from the fridge, so you can eat cereal?

This ghost has been pretty helpful in finding your lost items too. Whether they be your phone, keys, socks, the remote etc. Though, you suspect sometimes he hides those things on purpose so that you'll acknowledge his presence with a, 'Hey dead guy, know where my shit is?'

Sure, your pool of panties is depleting with his clear hatred of them, ripping them up and tossing them in the trash for you to find later, and you can't really invite anyone home since they wouldn't understand. But you can put up with his wandering hands and constant hard-ons if it means you have a nice, pretty house to live in.

Even if everything you do seems to turn him on. Whether that's singing along to a song (a body will press itself behind you, swaying you to the beat and grinding something hard against your back), brushing the floor (the broomstick will find it's way between your legs, the length slotting itself right in between your pussy lips as it shuffles back and forth, eliciting moans after moans from you, covering the wood with slick), or cooking a meal (the sauce you're heating up will wind up on your chest, cool and trickling down the valley your breasts, just about to disappear beneath your low v-neck shirt before something wet and slithering wipes it away, leaving goosebumps in its wake).

And God, apparently dental hygiene turns the damn thing on too. Brushing your teeth, in the morning or night, always involves your breasts being groped. Seriously. Breasts. Groped. 

You feel those same cold hands first cup your tits over the shirt, just feeling the heaviness, weighing them in his palms before you feel fingers flicking your nipples. The friction is repulsive. Really. It makes you roll your eyes. In annoyance, of course. 

“F-fuck off!”

Then, when you’re clutching the sink, he slides his hands under your shirt, nails scratching your skin before you feel its chilling grip on your breasts. That’s when he really gets to work — he doesn’t go gently, no, he’s tugging at your nipples, pinching and rolling them between his fingertips as if to torture you. So outraged, you’re left gasping for air, unable to string along words to express how disgusting his touch felt. 

“Don’t even ask me h-how I know you’re smirking. Dick.”

In response, all the bottles on the bathtub fall to a clatter on the porcelain.  

You can’t even masturbate in peace because though the door's closed you know he knows what you’re doing. That door will open, slowly creaking, and a gust of wind will blow over you, announcing his presence. There, under the covers, your fingers are working overtime, rubbing furiously at your clit as you stare at that open door. 

“Seriously? You won’t even let me have this?”

Pussy tingling, you writhe on the bed, spurned on by the knowledge that eyes are watching your face. Deadly quiet, the sloshing sound between your legs echo in the room, mocking and scathing.

When your hand cramps up, you reach over to your bedside table for your vibrator. Pressing the cold silicone to your steamy pussy, you get a moment of reprieve before the battery somehow runs out. 

“Oh my God, you did not. Ugh, you are such a dick. You died and now you gotta make me miserable?” You throw the damn thing to the corner of the room in frustration. 

Just as you’re about to give up, the cover is pulled away and you’re bared to the world. Your legs are spread by an invisible force before something warm touches your lips, tasting your abundant juices before it laps all of you up eagerly. “Oh fuck! A-are you eating me out?”

He’s annoyingly skilled at this. The tip of his tongue rubs tight circles around your throbbing clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to make your toes curl. Squelches resound in the room, getting louder when you feel, what can only be, fingers thrust into you with no warning. 

“Oh, God! Yes, right there, yesss.” He’s found your G-spot and he’s going to town on it, angling his fingers just right. 

Another hand pushes down on your lower stomach at the exact same time his lips wrap around your clit and suuuuuuuuuuuuck. You’re thrashing on the bed, pinned down by that invisible force like all your limbs suddenly weigh a ton. The noises he’s making and pulling out of you are obscene and anyone who hears would think another ghost is being added to the house. 

“Since your tongue’s going -ngh!- inside me, s-shouldn’t you tell me your name?”

The light flicks on and on the mirror across the room, your lipstick is writing the letters S U K U N A on it. 

“Sukuna, huh? Well, Sukuna. Since the afterlife is clearly lacking any kind of fun, make yourself useful and give me an orgasm.”

And so he does. 

He does every time after that actually. 

Sitting in your armchair, reading a book, legs spread and panties dangling from an ankle, he eats you out for hours. Good thing about ghosts is that they have nothing else to do, so you bet your cheap ass that he won’t be getting tired any time soon. 

In fact, he loves to eat you out. When you’re washing the dishes, he’ll be eating you out from behind, suckling on your wetness like it could bring him back to life. Hanging up the laundry in the garden will leave a man-sized lump under your dress as you desperately muffle your moans with a bedsheet, embarrassed that a neighbour might see. He wakes you up by eating you out, he sees you off to your job with a fingering and then a cleaning up of the mess with his tongue, and he welcomes you back home with an orgasm, body slumped against the front door, held up like a puppet as he tongues your insides, nipples teased by tendrils of something beyond the reach of your humanly sight.

That becomes your new routine. It seems this Sukuna has grown bolder, fearless and uncaring of what's convenient for you.

One night, however, as you’re spreading your legs naturally, you don’t feel the usual pressure there. Instead, you feel something wet, hard and salty at your lips. Devious bastard. 

Opening your mouth, you let him inch his length into your throat with surprising care. Full and stretched to your limits, you gag around his invisible cock, forced to accept the entirety of the thing entering and retreating over and over again. His balls smack against your chin as he increases his pace, growing more ruthless with the way he’s shoving his fat cock inside your mouth. 

You’re being used like a glory hole and he doesn’t seem like a minute man. Despite never having been the kind of girl who enjoyed giving blowjobs, you find this one surprisingly stimulating — it presses against a sensitive spot at the back of your throat, a sweet scent of death filling your nostrils as you gag around something firm and unyielding.

Over your shirt, you feel nails scratch against your nipples, flicking them the way that leaves your thighs squeezed shut, searching for friction where you're most sensitive.

Then, your vibrator miraculously comes back to life, buzzing with vigour right against your pussy. Squelches are joining the sounds of your gagging and you didn’t even know you were so wet already. It’s on the highest setting, driving you to overstimulation immediately and with cement for bones, you can’t move away from the onslaught of vibrations against your dripping cunt. 

Gagging even more, tears well up when you cum, squirting all over your bed just as he squirts cold, salty cum down your throat. 

You fall asleep thoroughly drenched. 

The next day, all the cabinets and doors are banging open and shut repeatedly. He’s throwing a tantrum. Great. He heard your phone call in the morning.

“Get over it, freak! I can’t keep relying on you for orgasms. So don’t get in the way of me and this guy,” you scream in your bedroom. You’re aware you look crazy but you don’t care. Enough is enough. 

The mirror shatters in front of you. 

“Yes, I will let him in. You can’t do anything about it. Just go to the light or something.”

A stuffed toy hits you on the head. 

“Oh my God! You did not. Ugh, whatever, watch me get fucked then, I don’t care. But keep your hands to yourself.”

Your guest doesn’t make it three minutes before he’s being scared shitless by the banging of cabinets, the opening and closing of drawers, the shaking of tables and shattering of glass cups. He’s running to the door before you grab him by his hand desperately. You almost convince him to move your two-person party to his house when a knife flies through the air and lands right in between you two, embedding itself into the wall. 

That’s the last straw. 

Just as he wanted, you’re left alone with the happy malevolent spirit. How do you know he’s happy?

Well, because suddenly the house is righting itself — cabinets and drawers are now closed, there’s no more shaking, glass shards are picking themselves back up, repairing all your broken cups. “Pretty pleased with yourself now, aren’t you? You are such a child, I can’t stand you.”

Not to mention, your dress is being lifted up and your panties ripped apart. 

He shoves his face in between your legs once more, tonguing your clit and massaging your pussy walls with his long fingers. This is his way of apologising, you guess, and whatever, you just have to accept your fate. Long tendrils wrap around your arms, lifting them up so you can grip something. Those very same vine-like phantoms tease at your nipples too, squeezing and pulling like his fingers would. Then you feel them seem to open up like little mouths before they suck on your nipples. Hard. There, standing in the crime scene, you cum. Heaving and lightened, you think it’d end there. 

It seems seeing that other man really pushed him because then you’re being spun around and shoved to the hardwood floor, dress folded over your back and drooling pussy exposed to the air. Something hard rubs against your most intimate area, coating itself in your wetness before it shoves itself, in one go, inside your pussy. 

“Fuck! G-go slow! Oh. My. God. Su. Ku. Na!���

His rhythm is monstrous. You’re practically screaming as he pummels your pussy with no consideration for the fact that your knees are being bruised and that your face is smushed against the dirty floor. 

Your gooey walls are being forced to stretch, lips all swollen and weeping. He’s planted so deep you can feel him in your throat, and then an arm is wrapping around your neck — he’s got you in a headlock, wrangling you back into a painful arch. From this angle, he goes in deeper. 

Another long, hard thing pushes inside your mouth and you don't know how any of this works but you swallow it down, allowing him to plug you up from both ends. They work in tandem, stretching your holes with a brutal pace.

The cock in your mouth cums first and you know, somehow, it's because he just wanted to coat your face in his ghoulish cum. Drenched, you can do nothing but take his intense pummelling with gratitude.

"Full! I feel so — yesss, right there — full."

There’s a noticeable bump on your lower stomach, years of pent up energy as a ghost being rammed into your poor cunt. Glop glop glop he goes through your juices which overflow, soaking your thighs. “Fuck, yessss.”

Watery slurps are emanating from your pussy where you’re gaping around nothing to the human eye. Sukuna gyrates his hips, heavy balls teasing your clit from the delicious angle, cock throbbing inside. 

“I’m c-close! More. I want more. Fuck me faster!”

And does he ever. 

Garbling out gibberish, you’re practically choking on your own saliva as he suffocates you with his arm.

When you cum, your vision blacks out and you fall limp, thoroughly exhausted and almost dead. But even then, he still continues to fuck you, using your body as a fleshlight, basking in your living warmth. As if your soul has separated from your body, you're aware of the thorough fucking your poor body is receiving, splashes of cum flooding the floor. Even unconscious, orgasms are being snatched from you.

Later, when you wake up, you’re in bed, tucked in with a ghostly tongue lapping up your mixed cum.

Pushing the cover off, you’re shocked to find a face and a body, firm and warm to the touch. He’s got pink hair, a muscular body and tattoos. There's nothing ghostly about the man between your legs. You can feel the blood coursing through his veins, can see the sharpness of his teeth as he flashes his pearly whites in threat, and the fingers that dig into the plush of your thighs are bruising.

Regretting not getting a priest involved after all, you gasp when you hear his voice, clear and loud, deep and powerful.

He says,

“You sleep like the dead.” 

[jasmineforests]

Behind Every Great Man Is A Greater Woman

Summary: in which you get what you've wanted for a long time — your very own strap-on and a naked Nanami Kento on all fours Warnings: smut, married couple/established relationship, f!reader, pegging, femdom, sub!Nanami, use of sex toy, anal sex, penetrative sex, spanking, cum-eating, cum play, fingering, cunnilingus, dirty talk, praise kink, slight size kink, not proofread Word Count: 2.4k

Your husband is always more than happy to fulfil any and all of your fantasies — he’s a firm believer in a ‘happy wife, happy life,’ after all. When you proposed pegging, however, for the first time in your entire relationship, he hesitated. It’s one thing to be tied up and blindfolded, to chase you around the house masked, and to dole out punishments, but reversing roles in the most literal sense seems an especially daunting task. 

It’s not so much that he doesn’t trust you or that he doesn’t want to; rather, there are many factors to take into consideration, and there are lots of research and preparations to be done. Kento sat you down and opened a discussion about how serious you are about pegging. To be expected, you were very resolute, and when you gave him those puppy-dog eyes, he found it ever so difficult to say no. 

Precisely because of your ability to poke and prod at his heart, he’s on all fours, baring himself to you in a way he has never done before. It’s frightening. 

“Alright, sweetheart, please take out the plug slowly and gently, okay?” 

You give his ass cheek a playful bite just to listen to his sharp intake of breath, and to watch his balls squeeze tight and his puckered hole pulse. Oh, how gorgeous he looks — he’s still wearing his work socks, they’re held up his garters, upon your insistence, paired with just his dangling tie, which is knotted at his neck. 

Running a finger around the rim of the metal butt plug lodged firmly inside his asshole, you wait a second or two, building up that anticipation, and then push it in harder. He arches his back in shock. 

“S-sweetheart, don’t tease. I’m nervous as it is.” His fingers are clutching the sheets under him and his thighs are already quivering, whether from the cold, the humiliation, or the wait, you might never know. 

Kento winces when you pull the plug out, and again when you droop sticky, gloopy globs of lube all over the gaping hole, thrusting in two fingers he had already acclimated to into his burning hot hole sessions prior. Just from that act alone, he’s growing breathless, hips squirming forward until you hold one side firmly. “Okiedokie, Kenny. Let’s get this show on the road.”

A strap-on is tightened around your hips. He had chosen one with great reviews, finding a harness that shouldn’t cinch your skin and a dildo that isn’t too heavy for you to carry. It’s flesh-coloured; it soothed him to know something more serious and not so wacky would be entering him, you suppose. 

Thoroughly lubricated and stretched, you press the tip to his fluttering hole. “Remember our safe word, honey. I’ll stop as soon as you want me to.”

“T-thank you, love.” Steeling himself, he arches ever so slightly back into you. “I’m ready when you are.”

He’s releasing low, deep groans as you push in slow, being extra careful to make sure he’s adjusting as you go. Through the many practices you’ve had, Kento’s grown used to being filled with large phallic shapes, even going as far as getting through dinner and a movie with a plug secured firmly inside of him — it was quite fun to see him squirm, wince, and blush when you gave him a knowing grin. 

The pink hole engulfs every inch you feed into it, squelches of lube bubbling out and pooling onto the sheets. His balls hang low and you can’t help but fondle them, rubbing the seam, almost as an encouragement. 

Gasping, his huge hand flies up and grips the headboard, threatening to crack the wood under his clutch. “Warning! G-give me a warning, sweetheart. God, you know -hah- just how to touch me, don’t you? ”

"Sorry, Ken." You're biting your lip. You don't want to giggle and make him even more uncomfortable. 

Back muscles tensing up, you see vines of veins protruding from his arm, reminding you of just how big and strong your husband is, how easily he can flip himself over and have his way with you. But he won’t, because as difficult as it is for him to let go of his control, making you happy comes incredibly easy to him. 

“I feel full; is it all in yet?”

Rubbing, what you hope to be are, soothing circles on his smooth, pale cheeks, you admit, “Ken, sweetie, that’s just the head. Take deep breaths for me, okay? I’m going to push in further.”

A hand is extended back, and you smile and take it in yours, letting him squeeze it in comfort every time he feels like his knees might give out or he’ll pass out from the lightheadedness the confusing pressure is causing. 

When you bottom out with a slurrrrrp!, he cries out, tightening his grip on both your hand and the headboard simultaneously. There’s a mirror beside you two, and your eyes slide over to his reflection, releasing a breathy moan at the sight — his tie is dangling so innocently, contrasting amazingly with his drooling cock, flushed red and bobbing up and down every time he clamps down on your fake cock. 

“Oh, sweetheart, g-give me just a second.”

He’s groaning your name through gritted teeth when you start making shallow thrusts despite his request. You’d love to take it slow for him, but you can tell he doesn’t really want that. No, his cock is leaking too damn much to want to take things slow and you already know from having thrusted a much smaller dildo into his hole before that there’s a spot in his gummy walls that makes his eyes roll back and jaw hang wide he just can't resist. It's truly a shame you can't feel him squeeze around your real cock. 

Your fingers had gotten a taste of the dizzying heat inside of him, the softness and pudginess of his canal. If you had a real cock, you bet Kento would feel amazing wrapped around you.

“No, d-darling, please. Too fast, too —fuck, s-slow down—deep, I can’t!”

Licking your lips, you say, “What’s that, honey? Go faster? Deeper? Alrighty, hubby.”

Soon, you’re building up a pace, thrusting and grinding to stimulate his glans, letting the cockhead rub and tease against that squishy spot you can’t quite reach with your fingers. Sounds you’ve never heard from him are filling your ears, fuelling your hips. He releases your hand, holding the headboard instead. 

Dizzy and delirious with the foreign sensation, he can’t focus on what he’s feeling, he can only let out breathy moans and sudden hisses. A growing, burning wave is cresting inside the quivering hole you’re stretching out with every thrust and every roll of your hips. Somewhere deep in his mind, he muses that maybe this is payback for all the times he’s overstimulated your poor pussy and pulled out orgasms after orgasms despite your pleadings.

You reach over, palming his sweat-soaked tie and tug his head back. He gasps. 

“Ken, look at yourself, baby. Look in the mirror. You’re so -ha- flushed and sweaty. Gosh, you look damn -ngh!- g-good enough to eat.” You’re laughing, nails digging into the juicy flesh of his ass, desperate to maintain your grip through the thin layer of sweat on his skin. 

Glasses fogged up, he’s finding it difficult to do as you say, to find himself in the mirror. In his search, his eyes settle on your form. Your head is thrown back, skin glowing with the warm light of the bedside lamp, and your breasts bounce as you pummel the long and thick fake cock in and out of him at a clumsy but powerful rhythm. 

“You look so b-beautiful, sweetheart. Are you feeling good too? Hmm? I chose that strap specifically because it —t-that’s it, sweetheart, squeeze your -hngh!- beautiful breasts for me— b-because it has ridges inside to stimulate your clit.”

One hand groping your tit on show for him, the other grips his hip steady. “That’s what I’m feeling? Wow.”

Your pussy juices seep into the crotch of the strap-on. The empowering feeling is stimulating you just as much as the actual texture in the harness, and your hips move on their own, intent to make him cum before you. 

“Do you like this, Ken? Do you like being f-fucked by my cock?”

Your husband slumps forward when his arms buckle at the downright succubus-like tone of your voice, so saccharine sweet and mischievous. “Y-yes. You feel good.”

“Remember that one -ngh- time you made me count the veins of your cock? That was really -hah- cruel of you, Ken.”

He whimpers like a dog when you tug hard on the leash, pretty pink hole clamping down hard around your fake cock. “Yes, yes, I remember. Y-you sent me a naughty —f-fuck, slow down please— picture whilst I was at work. My coworker almost saw. I h-had to punish you, sweetheart.”

With a sadistic smile, you shove his head down into the pillows. Your lips trail down his spine, eliciting shivers and goosebumps. He knows what’s coming, knows how your mind works, how hungry you are for retribution and by god, is his cock leaking so much at the thought?

“Count.”

Running out of air, he grunts. Drool is pooling onto the pillow, and the heat, the pressure from within, your moans, your dominance, it’s all overwhelming him to overstimulation. It’s as if minor orgasms have been sparking from inside the deepest parts of him. He can hear the insistence in your voice, can feel the corner you’ve backed him into. You’ve left him no choice but to obey.

“One.”

SMACK!

“Fuck! Darling, please. Mercy.” A harsh slap was laid on his asscheek. Heat blooms over the sensitive skin. He bites into the pillow — you did not hold back.

You laugh. “Count, Kento. You don’t want to disappoint your wife, do you?”

“No. Never. Never. T-two—“

SMACK!

“Ah! Three. I feel three.”

SMACK!

Red handprints emerge on his cheeks, tainting his pristine skin and it looks downright sinful. He’s close, you can tell by the way his hole is pulsing much more erratically and the deeper groans, almost guttural growls, escaping his lips. You sure hope it’s a good one.

"S-sweetheart! Please, it's too -oh, g-goodness- too much."

Eyes rolling back into your head, your movements begin to grow frantic as he fucks back into you, pushing the ridges harder against your clit. "Be good and -ngh!- cum for me, Ken."

"Yes." He gasps. "Yes, I'll be -hah- good. I'll be good for you."

A strangled cry pierces the air, and you can’t tell if it’s from him or from you, but whatever the case, spasms wrack your body. It’s pleasure you’ve never felt before, pleasure you never thought you could feel, or could even exist. You could definitely get addicted to this, to the power of owning your husband in the most primal way.

Practically drowning in a puddle of his own drool, he can only mumble, ‘Oh, darling, you feel so good,’ again and again. 

You fall on top of his clammy body, hips still staggering inside and grinding against that soft spot. You’re both trembling, moaning and drooling. "Fuck, Ken!"

"Amazing...y-you're amazing...hah, I can't..."

Feverish, your husband mumbles incoherent, fragmented sentences. His brain is fried, balls throbbing almost painfully as he shoots out ropes and ropes of scalding cum. Seconds later, as you both try and catch your breath, he's still pulsing, firing blanks.

It’s messy and dirty, and Kento’s not feeling the most comfortable laying on his own pool of cum and sweat, but he does rather enjoy the feel of your hot, naked body sticking to his back. 

Eventually, you shimmy off him, overstimulated by the heat radiating from both of you. He winces when the dildo slides out with a POP! Cold air hits his gaping hole, wringing a deep full body shudder out of the man.

Half-conscious moments later, you’re laughing maniacally as he removes the harness from your hips with shaky hands. “Oh, damn! I can’t believe you actually let me peg you, Ken.”

He licks the drool from your chin, pushing it back in, along with his, into your mouth. Indulging in your taste, he mutters, “Mmm. Neither can I.”

“Did you like it? I hope I wasn’t being too rough. Since it’s not my dick, I can’t actually feel how it is inside, which is such a shame, don’t you think? Well, anyway, you didn’t use our safe word, so I’m hoping you were fine. Although, fine is different from actually enjoying it, right? It’s okay if you didn’t. Actually, no, it’s not okay 'cause then I’d feel bad—“

Chuckling, he cuts you off with a peck on your lips. “I enjoyed it, sweetheart. It was truly an experience of a lifetime, one I’m glad to have experienced with you. I can tell you were being very sure that I felt good the whole time. Thank you; you're always so good to me.”

You tug on his tie, pulling him to your lips so you can peck him back. “Yeah, of course. If I didn’t make a mess outta ya, I would have been very upset.”

“And make a mess out of me, you did, honey. My perfect, mischievous, darling wife — always up to trouble, always wanting to bring her willing husband to his knees.”

Long fingers pet your pussy, thoroughly coating his digits with your wetness before he pushes it in. Something slightly cool mixes inside you just as he curls his fingers against that gummy spot that has you clinging onto his arm and whimpering in his mouth.

“W-what is that?”

Plump lips descend down your neck, sucking the sweat off your skin. “My cum, sweetheart. It seems a waste to let it soak into our sheets when it could go where it should, no?”

You cum on his fingers, clit sensitive, and pushing out your mixed juices. 

His hair is mussed up, cheeks blushing, and his eyes glint with heart eyes as he gazes down at you. “Did you have a good time, darling? It seemed like you did.”

Humming, you reply, “Yeah, was a lot of fun, Ken.”

Kento mouths kisses down your body until he’s slotting in between your legs, tongue tracing your slit. He groans at your taste and dives right in like he’s been waiting for this the entire time, like it was always going to end like this, with him claiming his reward for being such a good husband.

“I’m glad, honey. Now, lean back and be good for me, alright?”

He stares right at you, gorgeous eyes glossy with desire and, what can only be, pure, unconditional love.

“It’s Kento’s turn.”