tw : older x younger, age gap, pinv, blasephmy, improper use of religion ect
Nanami believed he was a good man, or at least, he tried to.
He was a man of God after all and prayed religiously, spreading His words to the community the best he could.
Of course, he wasn't perfect, and the Devil worked in insidious ways . On those days, when the church was empty and he was left alone in those cold gray walls, he would go to his knees and beg to be guided.
He tried his best to let his mind go blank, to ask for it, for the sin of lust was lingering in his thoughts . But each time, his mind wouldn't go blank at all, and all he could see was you.
Pretty, pretty sundress and wide doe eyes that looked up at him, drinking his words at every sermon. You wanted to be pure so badly, your hands pressed tight as you wished and wished and wished to be clean and perfect.
The perfect little church girl, holding on to her Bible like the book was God's promise itself that you were doing good.
Little Mary Janes tapping the ground, walking over to him, pulling out your pink tongue to receive the Host. His hands flexed and tightened around the rosary.
"Yes, Father," you'd mewl. "I want to be good," you said, and all he wanted to do was put his long fingers in that open mouth of yours, caress the plump lips, and make you -
His rosary broke in his hands, wooden pearls spilling all over the ground.
He thought about you so much it would put God to shame. Even in his office, forcing his gaze on the crucified Christ over his desk when you came for a personal meeting, his jaw would stay clenched, his mind begging the devils to spare him.
Heaven, Hell, he could adore you in a way that would make churches look useless by his utter devotion.
He knew he could and forced himself not to. He looked into his faith, in his Bible , for guidance.
He was a good man, an honest citizen, a man of God, wasn't he?
He had always been normal, average, and followed the right path, the shiny heavenly one.
But what was God to a woman's love anyway? What is heaven if not to be able to spend his humanity shared with you?
He heard your footsteps first, one he had learned to recognize, because not a single silly detail about you went unnoticed.
Not your smell that he caught each time he leaned into you to hear you better on louder days.
Not the way you fidget with your hands when you spoke to him, or even the flutter of your lashes, looking down while your cheeks grew hot whenever you complimented a sermon.
You bent to pick up the remainder of his rosary, the pieces of his faith, the crumbles of what countenance he had left. You handed them back to him, and he wished his fingers never had to let go of yours.
"Sorry for being here, Father...I just-"
"There is nothing to be sorry about. The house of God is your home. What do you need, Child?"
"I-" Your breath hitched. "I want to make a confession."
He blinked. You asked for guidance often, mostly explaining some Bible passage. Discussions mostly, that would make the two of you take a long walk through the garden, at a respectable distance, of course, but both felt like skin to skin, by the way, and your minds would meet each other, even thousands of miles away.
But confession? That was new.
"Ah... I see... Follow me."
You did. Of course you did; you would follow him everywhere, even if he walked right into the flames of Hell.
You sat in the confessional, breathing in the wooden smell of sins, and his. Maybe it was the same; you weren't sure.
"In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, Amen," you half-whispered.
"May the Lord be in your heart and help you to confess your sins with true sorrow," he said in a deep voice that made you squirm in your seat slightly.
"Forgive me, Father." Your cheeks heated up. "For I have sinned." "I haven't confessed since... Well... ever ."
Nanami was listening intently from the other side of the booth, watching your profile, drinking in every shadow and glimpse of you. He cleared his throat, focusing.
"I can't say it," you almost utter in a whine, gathering courage as your chest tightened .
He could tell it was hard for you and couldn't repress a small sigh and smile.
" Come on ... You can go ahead."
"I...I-It's-It's the sin of lust, Father," you babbled out, letting it out in a short breath.
Nanami's eyes widened . "Intercourse outside of marriage?" he asked right away, afraid you had let one of those stupid college boys have his way with you.
"No! No!" You blushed, eyes widening too. "I would ne-you stopped yourself, chewing on your lips... It's... thoughts, Father. And it won't stop."
Nanami let out a silent sigh of relief. If only you knew how many confessions Megumi, the choir kid, or Yuji, that little punk, had made. How many teens had he heard yapping about jerking off to porn or messing around?
"Thoughts are it... And what are they?"
"It's... just a thought. I dream mostly. Daydreaming sometimes. Of touch." You took a breath. "I want... I want to be... held . Filled. I want the void of infinity to not be scary anymore."
Your voice cracked and Nanami's heart tightened.
"I feel... the flame of Hell in me. I feel like it's burning between my thighs, a fire I won't allow myself to touch, or else I feel like it might swallow me whole."
"It's so very hot, Father. Begging me to give in, to just..."
"..You just don't want to be lonely," he stated, almost immediately excusing you.
"But it's .. . it's about a man, Father. I'm afraid God will not forgive me."
"A man you say... married ?"
"No, God no!"
"Then you can still make him, Child. Start a happy family, beautiful in the eyes of the Lord... I'm sure you would make a beautiful wife indeed."
And he meant it.
He had wished to marry before all of this. He had many dreams. His deepest dream is to have a wife at home. It feels so far away now.
He envied the man who would come home to you each day. He was sure you were home itself.
"I can't. I will never. It is not a love that can flourish in a way that will ever satisfy God . "
"And why is that?"
"Because he belongs to Him already. "
Nanami froze.
"It's his voice. I feel like-
Like nothing could ever fill me the way-The way-I love-"
"It will pass," he says, his voice steady.
Tears start to burn in your eyes. You feel like you could die.
"No! Why can't you understand-I-" your voice broke , and you were choking out each word, your heart hurting so badly .
"You're young. Confused. It's admiration."
" It's devotion!" you say, standing up. The anger mingled with agony in your voice surprised you both.
You were standing up, breathing hard, and the anger melted away as soon as it came, transforming into cries.
You felt drained: rejected by God. At least your only God was him. He sees you, desperate for him, and clenches his jaw, groaning in discomfort and loosening his collar .
"What can I do? I want to be good. I really do," you cry out.
Nanami's whole body was tense. "Then be a good girl. And kneel."
tw : older x younger (40's x 20's), unprotected sex, semi public sex, pinv, power imbalance ect
Across The Fence
Word count : 1721 [One shot]
Your parents were so annoying, treating you like a baby even though you were grown now. What do they mean you couldn’t go to the frat party? They were so annoying, refusing to lend you their cars!
Especially your dad, who usually was always on your side!
Everyone was so used to you getting your way, and anything you wanted, really; you just had to bat your pretty lashes, and your dad would give anything to you.
A typical daddy’s girl from the start:
Along the way, your pink bikes had become designer handbags, and you used his money freely, used to being a spoiled girl.
And you loved it! Who wouldn’t?
So when your dad started to say “no” to you, it was a cold shower. No matter how much you begged, they just wouldn’t let you.
Annoyed, you were getting your tan done by the pool, moody and pouty while getting your nails done.
Waiting for them to dry, you let your eyes wander around, and just like that, those glossed lips of yours curl into a smile as you cross gazes with your neighbor.
Mr. Sukuna. This man was a monster—literally! How could he be so big and tall at this age?! A total dilf.
Ridiculously hot, he had been your teenage fantasy for years.
“Hi Mr. Sukuna”!! You cooed from across the hedge, waving as he was taking care of stuff from his side.
“Hello, brat." He smirks.
You guys were close, at least closer than to your other neighbors.
See, Mr. Sukuna was like… Super cool. He never snitched when you had a pool party at home with friends.
Maybe because that man saw your pretty ass in bikinis as you danced, but that was another story.
"Well, aren’t you getting all dolled up…" he commented, watching your nails.
You loved showing him whenever you got them done.
You would show him when you pass by him, certainly not because that meant him holding your hands to “see better” and hearing his low voice compliment you.
“I have a party tonight, but Dad won’t let me go," you answer with a whine, batting your lashes, hoping he would fall for the helpless act.
He didn’t, not really, but still loved being your answer, savior, and smile. What a brat, he thought.
“Yeah? Need a ride? It could be our secret.”
His words make your pussy clench. Yes. I want to have secrets between us, Mr. You bite the bottom of your lips.
“Really?? You would do that?"
Thank you, you’re a darling!
And Sukuna smirks, because not a single inch of his body had anything “darling-like" in it.
That night, you take extra long to get ready.
Dry brush, exfoliate, and wax everything before hydrating all your skin with sparkly oil and putting on perfume and the perfect dress.
When you step into his car, muffling your giggles like a kid doing something forbidden and stupid (you were), he clenches his hands around the gear lever.
You looked like a wet dream. He had seen you in less, of course: you loved making a spectacle of yourself in the tiniest piece of swimsuit known to man in your pool when you knew damn well he could see you from his house.
He never said anything, enjoying the show.
But this? He had never seen you in your going-out outfits.
“All this for a stupid frat boy that probably can’t handle all that?" He snorts as he drives, half mocking you.
“I don’t fuck frat boys. I like men more…mature," you purr.
“Oh yeah? Then you torture the guys you go out with with a see-but-no-touch policy. ”.
"Maybe," you giggle. You couldn’t help yourself around him. It was stupid; you looked like a schoolgirl, all giggly and wanting to squirm in your seat.
He smiles. He loved it.
"Brat He comments, his gaze darting to your tits pushed up by a cute top that looks too frilly, victim of the same see-don't-touch policy as the other. Except you wanted him to touch; you really did.
“Here?" He asked, pulling over a block before the house, because he figured you probably didn't want to be arriving next to an old man.
“Mh hm." You said, and he watches as you chew on your glossed lips. You don’t move.
“Thank you for the ride," you half-whisper in the silent car.
“Whenever you need, doll.”
“Mr. Sukuna?"
“Yeah?"
“I should probably pay you back…"
You didn’t talk about money, and he knew it: he had a shit ton of money anyway. Your heart was racing; you weren’t a desperate teen with braces anymore, yet you still felt as helpless in front of him as you did before, even now that you were grown and had changed so much.
You had put so much effort into it, buying all the right things, finding a good haircut, teeth whitening strips, style, makeup... All of it for him to notice you.
To finally really see you, a woman, like the one who could hear him fuck from your room at night.
Your breath hitched, waiting for a reaction.
“You’re being a really naughty girl, brat. I thought you were a good girl, like your dad claims you are."
You whine pathetically, unsure what to answer, desperate, your pussy wet from the very moment you had sat down.
“Please…”
“Please what? Use your words; you’re a big girl now."
"Please..." you say, breathless, your cheeks heating up from shame. You couldn’t say it out loud. No matter how much you fake your confidence, he shattered it in a second.
“Fine, then I'll do it for you.”
He grabs your waist, unbuckling your seatbelt.
“You. Want. Me too. Fuck. You. Why?”
“Because I'm a bad girl," you answer, breathless.
He smiles, pleased by your answer. “That’s right.”
He leans in and kisses you, his tongue so hot in your mouth. Before you could think, your lips sticky with gloss were suckling on it, and you were kissing back desperately, moving to sit on his lap.
He grabs your ass, groaning, "Do you have any idea how crazy you make me?" Those fucking bikinis of yours…" he says, his hands finally grabbing your tits like he had dreamed of doing each time he saw you by your pool.
Too wet, he could feel you squirming in his lap, searching for friction, putting a hand between your thighs.
“Is that what you’re doing alone in your room? Fucking yourself silly, touching your cunt, thinking about me?”
You whine like a crybaby, "You're being mean."
“I know, baby, I know," he says, easing you by circling your clothed clit in a way that makes you moan with relief and melt against him, your tongue drenched.
Soon, his fingers are hooked inside your panties.
“Fuck, you’re so fucking wet for me. Making a mess”
You nod into his chest, unable to say anything as his long fingers finally plunge into your core, and you’re left a babbling and moaning mess on his lap.
“Thank you."
Sukuna, doesn’t stop for a second, teasing your wet cunt and bullying your g spot.
“Huh, fuck, you want it bad.” You nod, almost crying of shame and ecstasy.
He pulls his cock hot, and you blink. It was so fucking fat, his long cock, veiny and just so girthy, the bulbous head a dark pink that leaked precum.
He was about to tell you to not be shy, but you already grab his cock, in awe. It made your mouth wet just holding it.
“So big..."
“Yeah. Need to stretch you a bit more."
You jerk him off, the sound of it mixing with the wet squelch of him playing with your pussy, making an obscene symphony that filled the car.
“Please, please."
“Tch, what a fucking brat.”
You don't protest, just opening your legs even more, wanting him inside so bad it hurt.
"Breathe, doll," he warns, lining himself.
He watched with care and a dark thrill as your drenched little hole kept clenching and unclenching so close to his fat tip that was so much bigger.
He tries to push it all in at once, but he is simply too big, and you moan hard as he stretches you out, tears welling up in your eyes. He lets out a heavy groan, moaning at the feeling of your warm pussy both pushing him back and sucking him in.
“I know, baby, a big stretch," he whispers, kissing you to ease you.
“So good! "Ts feel so good," you say, your head rolling back as he pushed harder to fit, every inch of your cunt feeling him as you cry out of ecstasy.
You hold on to him close as he pushes deeper and deeper, until his dick is everywhere in you, heavy, with an obscene outline on your stomach.
When he’s finally balls deep, you cry out and cum on it.
He brings your hand to the outline, letting you feel him deep in your belly.
You wanted to pass out from your orgasm, and in his eyes, you had never been prettier.
He starts to move, meaning he thrusts his hip into his bratty girl, almost silent between hiccups and moans, who took it so good.
“You still want to go to this stupid party?" He teases. “I can stop right now if you want."
“Don’t! Don't you mewl, “I don't care about this stupid party anymore."
He slammed into you again and again, your pussy screaming around his dick as you babbled and let him rail you.
“Fucking spoiled brat.”
He groans before slamming into you one last time. You felt his heavy, cum-filled balls drawn up, and he looked at your pretty face as you begged him to finish inside.
He smirks and slams into you again, coming deep into your pussy, filling it all up with heavy cum that makes you see stars.
The next morning, when you’re out with your dad to fetch the mail, you spot Sukuna across the fence and walk to him.
tw : power imbalance, oldermanxyoungerwoman (40s x 20s), pinv, unprotected sex, immoral, angst, prostitution, ect
Fuck Me Eyes
CHAPTER 1
It was a universal and well-known truth that Toji Fushiguro was a deadbeat unemployed asshole.
But he had to make money at some point, and when gambling and shady business became too risky, he started to use his…assets in other ways.
He was good lucking, fucking huge, and he definitely wasn’t blind: he could see the way women looked at him. He had his good share of them actually, and a large cock he knew how to put in good use.
So why not make the most of it ?
Selling his body was an easy way to make money. Of course, it disgusted him sometimes, when at 3 am he would wake up in a stranger’s room, realizing he was a whore.
But he had a roof over his head, pussy and cash in his pocket, which really was all that mattered at this point.
Well Toji met your mother, he really did try all the normal relationships that society had pre-packaged for men his age.
He “settled down” as she called it.
He acted like a good, good man.
She was beautiful for her age, and had money and wanted him.. what could he ask for more ?
The unexpected “I have a daughter” thing was hard to accept, but I mean, if that said daughter was 20 and did not live at home, he could accept it, right ? Your mother complained to him about how much of a brat you were, and since you two weren't exactly on good terms, he could just avoid you for the rest of his life, he figured.
Big mistake.
When he met you, he was taken back. This was no brat.
Okay, maybe a little bratty, but at that age, who wasn’t ?
You were rather kind, with a sharp tongue from time to time, but overall a sweet girl.
The problem was your mother : the woman he shared a bed with every night was so mean to you, yelling at any minor inconvenience, sighing all the time at you, and overall acting as if you were making mistakes all the time.
Poor girl, he thought as he saw you crying in the backyard for the first time during your uni summer break.
He offered you a cigarette, not really knowing what shit else to do.
You broke into a laugh through the tears, and it might have been the prettiest sound he had ever heard.
He smiled and apologized for being bad at those things, and your gaze flickered away from that smirk that was way too hot to not be dangerous.
He surprised himself by wanting to hear you laugh again, and the grumpy big old Toji started to grow used to your presence in the house, teasing you in hopes to make you laugh again.
And just like that, from stupid remarks over breakfast to being pushed in the pool, you were starting to get used to him as well.
It was hard not to stare : he was stupidly hot. Big and muscular, no college boy and frat guy could compare to what he was giving.
It was a hot summer day lost between so many others it happened for the first time.
You and your mother were yelling at each other again, and you snapped, taking your sparkly handbag and slamming the door.
You text your friends to know if you could crash anywhere for the night, and a thing leading to another, you were dragged to a party with some friends to ease your mind.
Anger still coursed through your veins behind the kind girl's face, and drink after drink, you could feel your face heat up.
It didn’t really worry anyone, you were the type to drink after all, even though the joint you had just smoked was a bit new
Everyone was dancing, and the music was loud. Everyone was having fun except for you. Mind foggy of a mix of feelings, you just wanted to feel something. Anything that was far far away from the feelings you felt at “home”.
So you let the frat boy get touchy, kiss your cheeks, your neck, and soon, before realizing it, you’re under him as he whispers how hot you look.
Your chest feels tight, and all wrong. Your skin is not feeling the usual way, and you suddenly hate his smell, his stupid face and all the sensation.
You push him off, searching for air, feeling like your throat has been cut off. Through the haze of sweaty bodies, you need to find an exit.
All the faces mixed together, and you grab your bag as tight as you can, getting out of that house looking for fresh air.
Alone in the night, you pull out your phone, sit on the side of the road, and barely breathing, call him.
“Toji ?”
He picks up in a heartbeat.
“Yeah?”
“Can you come pick me up?”
Your voice is hoarse, tight, ashamed. What kind of stupid 20-year-old runs away from home just to call her mom’s boyfriend in the middle of the night?
You already feel stupid tears welling up and take a breath not to cry.
“Yeah… yeah, sure. Where are you, doll?”
The nickname makes you skip a breath, and for a moment, you hate yourself for it. How pathetic to care so much for so little, only because you are lonely.
You give him the address and wait on the pavement, sobering up, the sound of the party muffled in the background.
He pulls over in that trashy old car.
“Get in.”
You do, without a word, the cracked leather smell oddly comforting as you take your seat.
He doesn’t ask anything at first, his jaw clenched tight. You’re scared of disappointing him. Your outfit suddenly feels silly, all your past decisions stupid.
You hope he doesn’t smell the weed, even though he probably smokes joints too and wouldn’t really care.
Finally, he breaks the silence.
“I know your mom—”
“You don’t.”
He was being nice, and you knew you weren’t being fair.
“You don’t know about my mom and me.”
He is a bit taken aback by your response, given how much of a sweet girl you usually are, but he isn’t annoyed.
“You’re right. I don’t. So why did you call me?”
“…I don’t know,” you realize.
I thought of you while the frat boy kissed my neck, you think bitterly.
“I think you do know why, doll.”
You feel yourself tighten everywhere. You swallow.
You feel disgusting. Did he know? Your fucking problem. Your dirty little secret. How broken you were. How you couldn’t enjoy any interactions with a boy your own age.
You catch your own gaze in the car’s rearview mirror; red eyes stare back at you.
Was it because you were stoned, or was it that you were holding back tears? Your high had finished over an hour ago—there wasn’t really any excuse.
“Oh yeah? Then what is it?”
“I think you had no one to call. I think you’re lonely, doll, because your friends can’t take care of you properly.”
He sighs, without real judgment.
Oh yeah. Well. It was a low blow, but it was still better than talking about what you had in mind.
You stare at the streetlights, the window rolled down, your hair in the wind.
“Are you crying?”
You can feel wetness on your cheeks, but the night air is so good on your face you didn’t really think about it.
“Toji.”
“Yeah, doll?”
“I can’t stop thinking about you.”
“I can’t stop thinking about you too.”
He says it so casually—and Toji isn’t one to talk about feelings—that it almost feels like he’s talking about the weather or something mundane.
(Though he never really talks about either of those things.)
Everything is confusing, and you close your eyes, letting tears roll down quietly as you drift away.
When you wake up, it’s a crappy motel, and toji is aside, his breathing heavy beside you. You watch from afar his back, so fucking big.
You were definitely sober now, even though your head was still hurting a little.
Fuck..you whisper, trying to find your phone in the dark, the glowing screen flashing “5 am” and a crappy text from your ex boyfriend.
You groan, and Toji wakes up next to you.
“Sorry…didn’t want to wake you”.
Toji's eyelashes flutter and he looks back at you.
God, you were pretty. A goddamn hot mess.
He wasn’t exactly proud of himself for thinking so, but still, he couldn’t help.
Glitters were scattered around your face from the party makeup that had smudged, and you looked like one of those fancy bakery treats that shone : he could have just eat you up.
I should have fucked him in the car, you thought, I could have blame it on the alcool and wouldnt have my pussy aching for him this bad.
ellievsbear
origamiaround
kianamaiart
blakekathryn
vaporwave
discoholicmusic
stormborns
andulkaphoto
titsay