Πρόσεχε, Ιάκωβε, νταλίκα.

Πάντα στα δέντρα, πάντα… // 20 yrs old

[kkumri]

let’s all get along, like adults…

[dimis-tsimiskis-hoffman]

AH YES THIS IT IT THIS IS EVERYTHING

[dark-akademiker]

The man🗣️

[cinnam-0-ngirl]

POV: Author uploading a new part of a story after months

Me who forgot the whole plot but still happy they updated it

[sukurena-deactivated20260124]

🜼 ⋆ frat!sukuna changing his ways for you

he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it at first. ryomen sukuna—king of the frat, two-time campus menace, unofficial titleholder of “most likely to break your heart and not care”—starts showing up differently around you.

less noise. less bravado. less of the smirk that usually means trouble. you show up to a party once, wearing something cute, and his friends elbow him like always. “bro, go get your girl.”

but he doesn’t go over to flirt. he goes over to take your cup, sniff it, and grumble, “who gave you this? you don’t drink this shit.” then you watch him pour it out and hand you water like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

he stops hosting ragers on thursday nights because you have an 8am friday lab and he “doesn’t want people stomping around and keeping you up.” he says it casually—shrugging, avoiding eye contact—but not a single person in the frat dares call him out because the look in his eyes is dead serious.

and the girls he used to flirt with? laugh with? entertain when he was bored? he doesn't even dare to glance at them now. one of them touches his arm during a mixer and he physically steps back, muttering, “nah. don’t.”

everyone stares. you pretend not to notice, but sukuna notices you every damn time. the night it finally hits you is when you’re studying on the couch in the frat house, legs tucked under you, hair messy from hours of focusing. sukuna comes in from practice, sweaty, exhausted, probably starving.

old him would’ve grabbed a beer, teased you, maybe tried to drag you upstairs. but instead he stops in the doorway, eyebrows pulling together. “you eat yet?”

you shake your head without thinking. he groans under his breath like you’ve personally wounded him, then disappears into the kitchen. ten minutes later he returns with a plate of food, a bottle of water, and your favorite candy bar he steals from one of his brothers’ stashes.

“eat,” he says, sitting next to you.

“i’m not hungry.”

he glares. “don’t care.”

you laugh and lean into his shoulder without thinking. he freezes for half a second, then melts just a little, tilting his head so it rests against yours. “you’re different lately,” you whisper, teasing.

he scoffs, looking away. “no i’m not.”

“you are.”

he shifts, face serious now, eyes warm in ways you’ve never seen on him. “…maybe i just wanted to stop being someone you couldn’t take seriously.”

he huffs, rubbing the back of his neck like the confession annoys him. “i’m trying here, okay? don’t make it weird.”

you grin, reaching for his hand. “it’s not weird.”

he squeezes your fingers like he’s afraid he’ll spook you. “good,” he murmurs. “because i’m not going back to who i was.”

and you believe him. because men don’t change for no reason. but sukuna? he’s changing for you. slowly, stubbornly. sincerely.

© sukurena — do not copy, repost, or translate my work !!

[tonycries]

RUNRUNRUN - R.S.

Synopsis. Five times that Ryomen Sukuna - most desired man on campus, frat boy extraordinaire, your longtime FWB - would rather sIeep with you than tell you how he feels. And the one time he finally, finally does both.

Pairing. Ryomen Sukuna x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem!reader, frat boy!FWB!Sukuna, 5 + 1 things, FWB-to-Iovers, accidentally falling for your FWB, no strings attached, slightly toxic, pIayer!Sukuna, Kuna’s MEAN, denial, distractions, emotionaIIy stunted Kuna, jealousy, hurt + comfort, YEARNING, Choso cameo, Sukuna with tattoos, college wrestler!Sukuna, manhandIing, oraI (fem. rec), p talking, p sIapping, spítting, pússydrúnk Sukuna, spelling, overstím, HEADLOCKS, rough s, tummy buIges, talking you through it, running from it, chokíng, DÚMBlFlCATION, dirty taIk, creampíes, cúmpIay, slight bréeding, confessions, HAPPY ENDING, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 16.9k

A/N. Officially my longest fic hehehe- inspired by all the frat!Kuna edits I’ve been seeing on my FYP, bIess all editors.

“You’re obsessed with me.”

Sukuna grins. “Other way ‘round, mama.” He takes his long, languid time swirling around the liquid in his red Solo cup. It was some cheap bottle their new pledges had snagged, and it burned down his throat.

The aftermath was in the way the man stumbles just a little closer towards you. He catches himself with a tattooed hand pressed on the wall above your head. Abs against your core. Caging you. “Other. Way. ‘Round.”

You’re jutting your chin up in challenge, “It isn’t.”

He hums, “Isn’t it?”

“And what makes you so sure of yourself, Ryo?”

He shivers at the sound of your pretty voice. He could almost taste the cherry punch in it, and something about that made him tighten in his pants…“Maybe it’s the drinks talking, but I just know.” Sukuna leans in so close that there was barely a centimeter between you both, between your lips. “And I also know you want me, girlie. Bad.”

Even with your highest heels on, the pink-haired leader of Curses Epsilon (Curses ε, the most sought-after fraternity on campus) seemed to loom above you. Crimson eyes narrowed. Smile predatory. Signature black t-shirt tight.

He always had caught your eye, you had to admit.

C’mon, it was impossible for him not to: a few heads taller than most of the student body, more sculptured, more attractive. You’d heard a rumor that he did modelling down in Shibuya sometimes and you didn’t doubt it. He walked around this very university like he owned it. He probably did.

Sukuna pushes back his cotton-candy locks, and you’re seeing the roots of reddish brown where his undercut was.

The shade was so at odds with the utterly devilish look those tattoos gave him. Even now you could see the ink peaking out at his wrists, his collarbones, his nose bridge. They snaked all over his body. Sensual. And when he slowly dips his head down to kiss the underside of your jaw, you start to wonder just how far those patterns went…

“Oh.” You gasp, grabbing onto his well-built shoulders.

They flex through his thin t-shirt when he’s leaning even closer, and you’re suddenly remembering that he was here on a scholarship for wrestling. The infamous leader of his weight class on your university team. The King of the Court. At least that explained his irresistible build - you wonder whether he was a semi heavyweight? A heavyweight? Did they even have those?

You couldn’t think.

You’re tipping your neck further to the side, and from the edges of your peripheral vision you see the way that Sukuna raises one pink brow- before draaaaagging a line of soft kisses down the side of your throat. Filthy. Fleeting. 

You’ve seen that look on him before - it’s the one he’d shoot at admirers that dared to stare too long. That sort of ‘if you want it come and get it’ look. That sort of challenge. Prowling through campus corridors that seemed to shrink whenever his figure waded through, sports bag slung over his shoulder, hair still wet from his shower, you could expect the sports superstar to throw at least ten at a time. 

Though you couldn’t really blame them! You suspected that about half the student body - and perhaps even some professors - held a burning fire for Ryomen Sukuna, and the other half simply wouldn’t admit to it.

And just as long as his list of admirers was his roster.

Or so the whispers claimed…‘His latest catch is actually the mother of-’ ‘They say he has five girls at once and they know about it but stay-’ ‘He swings both ways so what I’d give for a chance-’ ‘His longest relationship was two days and that’s because they begged him-’ ‘Stay away.’ ‘Stay away.’ ‘Stay away.’

Stay away.

You didn’t have to be told that to know. 

It was an unspoken rule on campus, the lay of the land.

Quite the dichotomy, wasn’t it? Stay away from Ryomen Sukuna, unless he’s the one that approaches you first and then it’ll be like your wildest fever dream, your wettest, and when he finally leaves- well, weren’t you told to stay away?

That’s the way things were. And all any heartbroken ex-companion would get is a few soothing words by the very same people who would turn around and make an example out of you.

‘Didn’t you see what happened to so and so…? Stay away.’

He was like a guilty pleasure that most people knew better of, knew would become an addiction. However, still indulged in anyway.

And so here you were. Cooped up in some dimly-lit frat party, cramped until every breath felt like it was singed with the copious amounts of alcohol around you, surrounded by booming beats and bellowing boys. In nothing but the most sinful dress you’d stowed away for a night just like this. Though you had to give yourself some credit- you didn’t wear this just for Sukuna, that’d only happened to be a happy accident!

In fact, you hadn’t even been expecting to meet him here.

Sure, it was the fraternity that he was the leader of, but Sukuna was always quite the…busy man. To put it lightly.

No—when your friends had urged you into this very party, you’d worn it with the thought of another man in mind. None other than your two-timing, two-toned, two-inched ex Zenin Naoya.

Your relationship was never meant for a happy marriage with two kids and a house that had a picket fence, but the straw that surely broke the camel’s back was about a week ago when you’d sneakily scrolled through his social media likes. And say whatever you want about privacy, but the multiple other girls he was entertaining and the deplorable podcasts about women he’d been secretly listening to let you say whatever you wanted.

And your first words to Naoya afterwards had been that you wanted to break up. Your second had been cussing him out.

Which was why, when Utahime had told you that he’d be attending (likely to try and pick up another poor girl), you’d immediately rifled through your closet for this skimpy dress you knew he’d hate. And still jerk off to later.

Speaking of…how ironic was it that you’d run from one red flag and straight into the arms of another.

The thought mulls lazily in your brain, before it’s quickly overtaken by the feeling of Sukuna resting his hands just over the small of your back. Something stirs carnally at the pit of your stomach, and you don’t think you’ve felt this way for a long time - not even when you were still with your ex. 

“Prove it.” You blurt out before you can stop yourself.

He stops, raising those brows of his again.

And you don’t hesitate a single second before looping both arms around Sukuna’s neck and bringing him closer to you. And the hulking man lets you manhandle him as you please, lets your lips whisper just a breath’s distance away from his. In the distance you think you can hear a few gasps, feel a few stares. “Prove that I want you. Badly.”

And Ryomen Sukuna’s realizing that he didn’t need the alcohol, not really.

Not when he was already drunk on you.

His lips are on yours before you can say anything else.

Your first time meeting Ryomen Sukuna ended up with you pushed into the bedroom at his frat house and holding onto the headboard so that it won’t break against the wall. Bang-bang-bang. He’d lifted your trembling hands off of them, eventually, and placed them between your legs to roll over your clit. You don’t think he cared for a single sultry moment if any of his frat brothers happened to hear.

In fact, with the way that he’d been plunging his massive girth between your legs (the rumors really hadn’t exaggerated!) you’d almost wondered if he wanted them to hear. You wouldn’t be surprised.

Sukuna fucked hard, fast.

He made you stupid on his cock and chased his high like an absolute madman- though, that’s not to say he was a selfish lover. No—perhaps for his own ego, you were made to cum at least thrice on his fat, throbbing length.

And after the deed was done he’d rolled over to the side of the bed and tugged off the sticky condom. Discarding of it into the nearby trashcan, Sukuna rifled through his bedside cabinet for some wet wipes. 

Ryomen Sukuna wasn’t the type of after-sex cuddles and aftercare, you’d come to learn. As he’d handed them over to you gruffly, and flicked at his lighter to burn up a cigarette.

Taking a deeeep drag of it, he turns towards you and brings his lips so close that you think he might just kiss you—only to puff out a smoky cloud in your face. “Inhale.” You do as he says, and let the fumes burn your throat. The side of his lips were quirking up in a smirk, “Mmm, good.” Sukuna gestures at his walk-in closet, one that you’d been eyeing for the sheer luxury of it when you’d first entered. “Might wanna find a t-shirt in there, your dress is a little…”

You looked at the sad heap of silky fabric on the carpet - torn now. “And whose fault is that?”

“Heh, just go get yourself a t-shirt, girlie.” Sukuna sits back on the headboard, and you’re appreciatively eyeing his half-naked figure. Prominent pecs. Ladder-like abs. Tattoos that stand out against his golden, tannish skin. He’d tugged on a pair of black boxers by now that did nothing to hide the happy trail of dark pink hair that you had your nose pressed up to minute ago. “Or don’t.” He looks at you with a sleazy smile- shit, he’d caught you staring. “I don’t mind.”

“S-sure ya don’t.” You’re managing out, tight.

And almost robotically, you manage to pull yourself onto your wobbly legs and take one step—Sukuna chuckles to himself as you stumble.

With a glare thrown over your shoulder, you walk into his closet. About as large as your entire dorm. Rows upon rows. Shelves upon shelves. Clothes upon designer clothes that made you wonder just how loaded a future professional wrestler is.

There were brands on his shelves that you couldn’t even recognize but knew were high-end simply from looking at their logo. Gawking, you flip past a few hangers - Versace, Burberry, Burberry, Gucci, Loro Piana, Dior, Dior, Dior, Dior-

Eventually, you simply give up to snatch the (hopefully) least expensive thing you could find: a wrestling hoodie with colorful logos on its front and ‘Sukuna’ emblazoned across the back. 

The fabric was oh-so-soft in your hands, made of pure cotton that tempted you to tug it on your body as soon as possible. Oh, you’re marveling at the way the ending hem of it reaches well past your torso, engulfing you like some sort of blanket. Experimentally, you’re pulling the hoodie flap over your head and giggling at the way it droops down all the way to your nose. Unable to help yourself, you tug the sleeves up to where your wrists were and press the pink fabric to your nose.

Strawberries.

What a smell for such a guy.

“Fuck-” You’re whispering into the fabric, slightly muffled. The rush you were feeling gets dampened down a bit as you remember where you are, “I’m getting way too ahead of myself.”

When you’re finally walking out of the closet, Sukuna was lounging on his king-sized bed and scrolling through his phone. You take a moment to admire him like this- his long limbs stretched across the mattress, hair still sex-ruffled, your nail marks prominent down his shoulders, hands hugging a pillow to his chest.

He looked as if he was carved by the heavens themselves. Though he fucked like the devil.

He’s flicking his eyes casually your way, eyebrows slightly raising as he takes in your attire. “Nice choice.” Sukuna hums, voice deep with sex. “Didn’t think ya had it in you.”

And then he’s patting the empty side of the bed once more.

More, his eyes said. He wants you even more.

You almost instinctively take a step forwards before-

“Actually-” You start, fighting to keep your words steady. You keep yourself rooted in front of his closet and fidget with your fingers. “Before we do anything more, I wanted to make some things clear.”

“Mn.” He’s turning his phone off with a slight sigh, placing his hand atop his head. 

Sukuna says nothing more, and you take it as a signal for you to continue. Taking a deep inhale, “I don’t really do this one-night stand thing often- not that there’s anything wrong with that!” Heartbeat quickening at the way his lazy smile grows, you don’t know why he made you feel the need to explain yourself. “But since we’re-”

“And who says we’re a one-night stand?”

Your heart does something funny with its tempo, “Wh-what?”

He tilts his head as if analyzing you, almost feline with his movement. Sukuna’s pinkish tongue darts out to wet his lips, still sweet with the taste of your pussy. “What if I want two nights? Three? Four? What’re you gonna do then, girlie?”

“Th-then-” You’re clenching your fists—fuck, it made it so hard when he was looking at you like that. “Then you’d have to get tested.”

And that…seems to make him pause.

“What?”

“Then you’d have to get tested, duh.” You’re crossing your arms in front of your chest - oh, it was quite amusing to watch the Ryomen Sukuna scramble for words. And you can’t help the spike of satisfaction, as he so-very-obviously didn’t expect that. “And we’d have to set boundaries. And share schedules. And you’d have to tell me if you meet up with another one of your ‘friends’ so that we can get tested again.”

“…”

“…”

Without warning, he bursts out laughing. “Thorough, aren’t ya?” 

He wipes away a tear of mirth from the right side of his face and- c’mon! You honestly didn’t think it was that funny! Sure, you hadn’t had any…arrangements like this before but you couldn’t have been too far off for the requirements?

“What are you-” But as you start to protest Sukuna only guffaws even louder.

“Alright, alright-” He’s raising up a hand as if to tell you to stop before his (well-toned) sides start to split. It’s only once you take a step back and huff n’ puff yourself into silence that the man finally starts to calm down. Looking down at his lap, “Damn- fuck, I’ve never had my boner killed so fast.”

“It’s just the requirements.” You’re grumbling.

“Girl, I might as well cut off all my ah- ‘friends’ as you so-nicely put it and marry you.” Quite dramatic, but alright. You notice that he doesn’t push back against your boundaries, however. Sukuna stares you down, eyes twinkling with something that you couldn’t quite discern. “And what exactly would you like to call our little relationship then?”

“Friends-with-benefits, what else?”

“Mm, I like it.”

“And nothing more- no marrying any time soon.” You shudder when you think of your last failed relationship.

Sukuna grins, “Keh- don’t have to worry about that.”

.

.

.

“Okay-” Utahime slams! all one-thousand pages of Shoko’s anatomy textbook down on the cafeteria table, rattling your trays and making the surrounding students glance at your trio. You’re watching as her glass of orange juice splashes precariously around the rim and inches one watery hand towards the pages of the book. “-spill.”

You’re startling at her sudden interrogation, “What?”

And to your horror, even Shoko puts aside her medical notes to pay full attention to the commotion between her friends. Both of them staring—squarely at you.

“You heard me.” Utahime crosses her arms, “Something’s up with you these days- and we want to know what.”

Shoko nods, sighing the way she did whenever she was assigned a particularly difficult medical case to discern. “Sudden glow about you- likely a mix of estrogen and dopamine boosts, slightly dazed look in your eyes, increased screen time, unconscious smiles, unexplained disappearances at odd times of night.” She taps her pen on her chin, “Science says you have a boyfriend.”

Utahime gasps, “And we haven’t heard about it?” Throwing an arm around a deadpan Shoko, who says nothing when the other girl shakes her to and fro. “We- we, your very best friends since freshman year, haven’t heard about him.”

“So who is it? I’m curious.” Shoko probes.

“Tell us or I cry-”

“It’s no one.” You’re finally managing a choke out, to which you’re met with the most dramatic groans from both your friends. This time, they’re loud enough to garner the attention of over half this section of the cafeteria- and in your peripheral vision, you swear you could feel the intensity of two crimson eyes…

Your eyes flick to the side - and there’s your first mistake.

Utahime gasps, kneeling on the bench to look over Shoko’s head. “He’s there-” Above your frantic pleas for her to just settle down, “Don’t lie, I saw your eyes move! He’s there I just know it-”

You grab onto her dress and start tugging, “Uta, for heaven’s sake just sit- down-”

“Hmmm, the only ones there are Professor Yaga- no. Todo- no. That PhD student, Higuruma- maybe.” As her options dwindle, she sweeps her eyes. “Ijichi- no, eugh. No offense, my dear, it’d just get so troubling to have to peg him all the time.”

You don’t know whether to laugh or cry. “U-Utahime, oh my god!” Even Shoko simply lets it happen in amusement.

Until finally, her eyes waft over the group of fraternity brothers that sat tall amongst the rest of the students. She wrinkles her nose at them, “One of the Curses Epsilon boys- no way, you’re smarter than that.”

They were such a boisterous bunch. Murmuring what were most likely innuendos with each other, clapping each other on the backs with guffaws. Almost handsomely stupid the way they kept looking to their pink-haired leader for approval. Occasionally, someone from a neighboring table would walk up to them in an attempt to talk to Sukuna - and the entire table would fall over themselves to erupt in wolf howls. 

You were almost thankful for the way Utahime had given you the excuse to stare right at him. The way he’d wave off whichever newcomer, the way he’d roll his eyes at his friends’ antics. You’re realizing that his group was mostly composed of athletes, evidenced by the team jerseys and the trays upon trays of food were wolfing down.

Sukuna, noticeably, wasn’t wearing his wrestling hoodie.

The thought makes something shift at the pit of your stomach.

“Oh my god, it’s one of them-” Utahime’s following your line of sight with something akin to horror, and even Shoko seems to be rapt with an attention that she didn’t ever have in her classes.

Both of them had easily let their eyes slip past the boys, it seems. And it’s only once they saw your lingering gaze, only once they saw that familiar smile across your face, that they’re realizing.

Widened eyes slipping back to the rambunctious table.

You snap your eyes to your purple-haired friend once you register her words, “N-no, wait-”

“You stuttered!” She squeals, and you don’t know whether it’s out of excitement at the gossip or sheer fear. She turns to Shoko, “She stuttered, right? I’m not dreaming? She stuttered?”

Shoko nods, “She stuttered.”

Utahime whirls back to face you, “You didn’t even stutter when you told off that asshole Naoya- thank you for that recording by the way, it was quite the pleasure to listen to.” Shaking her head as if to make herself get back on topic, “Either way, are you or are you not dating one of the Curses Epsilon boys?”

“I am…” You pause, “-not.”

They both groan at your response. Utahime even reaches over the table to shake you by the shoulders, “Tell us- I can- tell- when- you- lie-”

“No- no listen!” You’re defending yourself, swatting away her grabby hands. “I’m really not dating one of them, promise! It’s just…”

Shoko asks, “Just?”

You sigh, there was no getting out of this now. “Remember that party we went to at their house a few weeks ago?” Continuing as they nod, your heartbeat starts to accelerate as you realize you’re getting to the meat of the story. “Right- and remember how I disappeared halfway through the night and told you that Akari dragged me off somewhere?”

Utahime gasps, “I have connected the dots.”

Shoko frowns, “You haven’t connected shit.”

“I’ve connected them.” She replies, “I always assumed you ended up hooking up with someone that night and didn’t think much of it. Now you’re telling me that it was one of them-”

“Keep your voice down!” You plead, “But yes, it was…and the thing is that one night turned into two, two turned into three.” Your skin starts to heat up as you remember just last night when you’d snuck out to be let in through the back door of Curses Epsilon. To be pressed onto all fours and ruthlessly ploughed into- “But look, the point is that now we’re kinda…sorta…friends-with benefits.”

They gasp in unison.

Utahime’s all but standing on the bench once more, “Who is it-”

“Whose dick do I need to cut off.” And Shoko is, too.

You put your face into your hands with a groan as they start listing off names.

“No.”

“Choso?”

“No.”

“Larue?”

“No.”

“Kenjaku?”

“No.”

“It surely can’t be fucking Sukuna-” Both of them look at you, look at the impression on your face. And they turn to each other with serious expressions, “She’s fucking Sukuna.”

There was no use in telling them to keep their volumes down now - people turned their heads your way and started to whisper. You could only imagine what the rumor mill was conjuring up now. Hell, even Sukuna himself casually flicked his head your way in interest.

And you wished you could sink even deeper into your seat.

“Did you see that-” Utahime hisses.

“I saw.” Shoko replies.

And the purple-haired girl reaches over to clasp your hands, “He was giving you that look- oh my god. He looked like he was about to eat you up—” And you think that Utahime is perhaps the only one who’d look over and glare at Ryomen Sukuna the way she did just then, “You know what they say about him, right?”

“I’m well aware.” You breeze off, “It’s nothing serious- just no-strings-attached fun, promise. I could break it off at any time and not feel a thing, and I know the same goes for him.”

“Well, that’s good.” Shoko crosses her arms, “And you’re getting tested, right?” 

“Of course.”

Utahime scoffs, “Yeah but it’s not like he’s seeing you that often, right?” A pause. “Right?”

“Well…”

You’d been saved in that very instance by a bzzzz—! in your pocket: a text from the man of the conversation himself. And with a quick apology to your friends (you loved them, you really did, but you supposed that was enough interrogation for the day) and a glance at your calendar to make sure you didn’t have any more classes for the day—you were racing out of the cafeteria.

Followed suspiciously closely by a certain pink-haired wrestling superstar.

You didn’t quite care who saw what or thought what, because a few hours later found you back in your single dorm room.

Fucked stupid.

Sex still hung in the air.

You were sprawled out across your humble single bed, heaving as if you’d just ran a marathon. Head sinking into the pillows. Cunt all drooling with your splashin’ slick. Still reeling from the aftershocks of your multiple highs.

With Sukuna’s athletic stamina, however, he seemed to be barely affected. Taking a light drag of his cigarette (you’re sure the building had a no smoking policy…), he looks over your dorm room with faint interest. Much smaller than his but also much…cozier, you had to admit.

Lived in.

He takes in the polaroids of you and your friends, all the cutesy lights, the columns of books. Sukuna stares hard at one of the pictures above your headboard—it was one of you, Utahime, and Shoko after shotgunning a few beers. On the verge of throwing up.

“Cute- the dorm, I mean. S’nice.” He says, blowing out a streamline of smoke at the photograph. “This purple-haired one s’the one that was screamin’ about us in the cafeteria today?”

“You heard that?” You exclaim.

“Girl, the entire cafeteria and Gakuganji’s senile ass heard y’all.” He rolls his eyes with a grin, “Dunno whether you’re louder then or…” Such a devilish, devilish grin. “-here.”

“Shut up.”

“You certainly didn’t-”

“They threatened to cut off your balls if you broke my heart, y’know.” You don’t quite know why you’re telling him - Sukuna was probably used to the threats of his love interests by this point. You’re turning to your side and facing him, trying not to shiver at the way his eyes glide appreciatively down your exposed body. “Not that there’s gonna be anything at stake to break.”

“Of course.”

“Of course.”

“And what if?” He asks you, to which you only look at him in confusion. Sukuna takes his sweet time puffin’ on his cigarette once more before satiating your curiosity, “What if I break your heart?”

You think about it for a little bit, “I won’t cut off your balls.”

“Oh?”

“I’ll cut off your entire dick and feed it to you myself.”

The cigarette falls from his hands and onto your carpeted floor- which Sukuna hastens to put out with an uncharacteristic yelp. You guessed wrestling scholarships didn’t cover burnt-down dorm rooms, and you have to stifle a giggle at his actions.

“You-” He pants out, finally looking up after picking the scorched nub between his fingers and throwing it into your trashcan. Almost glaring those rosy eyes down at you, “You think you’re soooo funny, huh, mama?”

You chuckle, “I do.”

“Well, yer lucky you’re cute.” He grumbles to himself, at least- you think that’s what he grumbles to himself. Because the moment you’re looking at Sukuna in slight surprise, he turns his head.

You see nothing but the sharp edge of his jawline, those high cheekbones, the tips of his ears that were flushed with…the sex? Surely? Almost as if he knew what you were thinking, Sukuna brings a hand up to cover them under the pretense of scratching his sweaty undercut. “Never met anyone with this much fuckin’ audacity.”

You yelp, “H-hey!”

“Hey yerself.” And then he’s heaving himself up and digging underneath your own fucking bed as if it was his. How strange, this familiarity. The two of you had only known each other for a few weeks (though you had to admit you had spent considerable hours together) and here Sukuna was rifling through your room like nothing - you just wasn’t sure whether that was a him thing or…He’s finally pulling out—

“That- that’s my rose toy?!”

“Yeah, let’s give ‘er a spin.”

.

.

.

“I don’t know, I don’t know!” Itadori Jin’s voice echoed out from the other line, almost reaching a fever pitch in defensiveness. 

Sukuna rolls his blush-red eyes, he’d been standing outside this godforsaken café on a call with his brother for what felt like hours now. With you inside and waiting. All warm. All…fucked-out—anyway! The point was that you were inside all comfortable, and he was a hulking figure looming outside some frilly café grumbling profanities underneath his breath. 

In his defense, it was after one of your ‘hangouts’, alright! 

It was just another day with you. After he’d pumped deep into your lungs, Sukuna just-so-happened to hear your stomach rumble in hunger. And he was the one to have suggested taking a stroll down to the lil’ café down the block. It was packed with college students, and he didn’t really care who saw - besides, bearing through the gaudy interior theme and re-play of music certainly not his taste was almost bearable for the pleasant surprise in your ears.

And the refueling, of course. The main reason he was taking you here was because (surprise, surprise!) a house full of college men didn’t quite have the nutrition needed to last a few more rounds. And Ryomen Sukuna wasn’t done with you just yet.

He just didn’t expect to have been assaulted by a phone call from his older brother the very second he’d taken a step inside. And Sukuna had told you to find a seat for the two of you, deciding to take the call outside. He knew his brother wouldn’t give up if he declined the call.

They always were alike, Sukuna and Jin.

Sure, maybe not in personality - Jin was always a bit of a goody-two-shoes, though he could hold his own in a fight. Sukuna was the one everyone said they had to watch out for.

The one that didn’t get invited to birthday parties by fearful parents, the one picked last during team sports because they said he’d start a brawl, the one visited only by his brother and his father the first time he’d ended up in the ER after a fight, the one who only had those two to cheer at his wrestling matches. Only ever those two.

Whatever. 

Same rosy hair.

Same features (for the most part, at least. Sukuna’s constant trips to the gym and the ER had resulted in him having a rather more rugged look than his twin).

Same stubbornness.

They’d ended up going to different universities, with Jin attaining a scholarship for marine biology a few hours away. Which meant that family functions weren’t quite as frequent as they used to be, but he could still hear it in the man’s voice - that stubbornness.

It made the younger of the two brothers feel the heat creeping up on the back of his neck, slightly squirming as Jin admonished him—“I’m just saying that you sound happier than usual-”

“Jin.”

“And that’s a good thing!” He could practically envision the bespectacled man throwing his hands in the air, trying to hold back his smile. “Hell- Ryo, it’s a wonderful thing! You finally have someone making you happy! You’ve finally met someone special! You finally have someone in your life-”

“I don’t have trouble getting around.” He grumbles, and—well. Ryomen Sukuna isn’t quite the type to explain himself, but with his brother…

“Ryo.”

“Alright, alright!” Sukuna bursts out, and a mother nearby grabs her child by the hand and speedwalks away. “Alright, I haven’t met up with anyone else! I’ve cut off all of my ah- friends, for lack of a better word.” He could hear the smug hum of his brother, “But that’s not because it’s special or anything, it’s just because…”

Jin urges, “Go on…?”

“Because s’just convenient, alright?” He’s finally answering, “S’too much of a hassle to get fuckin’ tested after each one, so I might as well only have her in my life- ah wait, fuck, I didn’t mean it like that-”

“I knew it.” Comes the squeal, “Listen, Ryo, I just don’t want your stubbornness to get in the way of something special-”

“And I don’t want to hear yer voice- goodbye, old man.”

The ringing tone to denote that the call has ended is much more soothing than his brother’s voice, he decides. And he takes a few deep breaths before tucking his phone back in his pocket- turning it on silent mode.

He turns around to step inside and—there you are.

Dressed in that hoodie of his that he’d forgotten to take back from you. The air of someone that’d just been properly fucked. Through the glass, he sees you staring at the other people outside. He strays his gaze himself to see what you see- you’re chuckling at that little boy who skips along the pavement, you gasp at the delivery driver with a stack of boxes who almost trips, you coo at the elderly couple walking their dog. Hand-in-hand.

Sukuna looks down at his own empty hands.

Scarred and calloused. 

Before he’s reaching his dominant one upwards and pushing open the swinging café doors. You look up from the booth you’d chosen for yourselves as he enters, waving him in the right direction. It was one by the window, he notices, though in the very corner of the place as if you’d wanted to hide yourself away.

Perhaps hide the two of you away.

Hm…Sukuna thinks, rubbing at his chest. And thrusting both hands into his pockets, he’s sauntering right up to you.

He’s not blind to the stares he garners from some of the other customers, and though any other time he might have thrown a stray wink or two - and honestly, nothing was stopping him now - he simply sides into the seat opposite you. “Sorry ‘bout that, mama- emergency calls.”

“Emergency?” You raise your brows in amusement, peering at the man opposite you as if you were analyzing every inch of him. And he almost couldn’t believe that just a few minutes ago, you’d been shaking and whining underneath him. “I don’t know anyone named ‘Emergency’ at our school.”

“Goes to another school.” He quips, knees bumping against yours as he stretches them out underneath the table. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous, girlie~”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

In almost no time, the waitress is bounding up to your table and jotting down your orders. He orders his coffee black, no sugar—and you roll your eyes at him. 

The older woman then coos down at the little interaction, “Oh, you know we’ve got a special offer just this week in honor of our upcoming fifth anniversary? 100% off on all desserts for couples!” Her eyes wrinkle beautifully at the edges, “Would you two perhaps be…”

You open your mouth, “Oh, we’re actually-”

“Completely in love.” Sukuna interrupts you casually, his large hand settling over yours on top of the table. “Maddeningly. We’ll take one of everything for the lady and a strawberry shortcake for me, thanks.”

“Oho, you two.” She chuckles, walking off. “Ah, young love~”

You watch as she leaves—and snap your head towards Sukuna so fast that you think you may have gotten whiplash. “You-”

“It’s for the offer, don’t overthink it.” He lets go of your hand and crosses his arms. You almost miss the heat of it - was the air conditioning in this place too high? You’re sinking your hands into the sleeves of your- his hoodie, and Sukuna’s slouching in his seat. “Take it home- all the desserts, share it with your friend or whatever. It’s for you, anyway.”

“Right.” You’re not quite sure what to say- “Thank you?”

It’s a rather long and awkward silence that follows.

You attempt to break it by grasping for some shred of conversation, “So ah- is everything alright?”

He raises a pink brow in question.

And you don’t know how he manages to do it - how he manages to make your veins bubble and bolt inside of you with just a single look. “The ah- the call, I mean.” You’re squirming in your seat at his half-lidded gaze, so intense. He always looked at you with this certain fire, whether in bed or…here. “You were just out there for so long, I hope it wasn’t anything serious.”

He rests his chin on one hand and tilts his head, “Not worried about me, are you? If it was anything serious?”

“And if I was?”

“You shouldn’t.”

To which you furrow your brows in confusion, “What do you mean? Of course I’d care if something bad happened to you.”

Sukuna only holds your gaze, his expression unreadable.

He reaches a hand down his chest - right over his heart - and lightly rubs that spot. Finally looking away from you, the frat leader answers. “No- no, it’s nothing serious. Just a…friend.”

“I see.” You still.

“You said I could still have ‘friends’, right?” He asks, a note in his voice that was imperceptible. Sukuna looks at you with a meaning that you didn’t fully understand, and you’re realizing that the two of you had been leaning over the table for quite some time. “Or has that changed?”

It seems like an age before you break his eye contact, “Nothing has changed.”

Sukuna leans back in his seat, “I see.” There’s silence between you both once he reaches into his pocket and starts scrolling absent-mindedly through his phone. “Then yeah- it was a friend that called. I’ll get tested afterwards though, don’t you worry that pretty head of yours over it.”

“Good.”

A few more minutes of silence.

He can’t bear it. “Lemme eat you out in the bathroom as an appetizer before our food?”

“Be quick.”

.

.

.

“Truth or dare! Truth or dare! Truth or dare!” Utahime chants, jovial words slurring into a nearly-incomprehensible mess as she claps her hands. Messily, she’s pulling you and a few others into a haphazard circle on her bedroom floor.

All cooped up in a room that was decidedly not designed to hold this many people. The air dimmed with LED lights and cheap alcohol. Bass thumping throughout the bones of her apartment - it was a small get-together that’d turned into a large get-together that’d turned into friends of friends of friends both invited and uninvited 

You swear you’d seen a few graduates sneak themselves onto the living-room-turned-dance-floor before you were being pulled into her room by your inebriated friend. One who, as the host, was deciding what the game of the night would be. “Truth or dare!” 

Pronouncing, more like.

Shoko rolls her eyes, “Your ability to turn into a twelve-year-old when you’re drunk both fascinates and abhors me.”

“Jokes on you I don’t know what that word means.” Utahime sticks her tongue out, to which most of the group giggles. 

“But seriously- are we twelve?”

“Fine…” Utahime grumbles, and clicks her fingers as if happening across a sudden epiphany. “Dare or drink, then!” She’s peering towards Shoko with a smug smirk, “How’s that for all adult and mature, hm?”

“That’s almost worse.”

You’re taking the opportunity to sweep a look at the (likely) players: some more of your friends, Ijichi, Haibara, Higuruma from the PhD students, a few sweet sorority girls, some strangers, one Curses Epsilon member-

Your eyes widen as you take in the long-haired man—Choso, you believe his name was.

He catches you staring and smiles at you shyly, an expression that you hope you’re returning without it looking too much like a shocked grimace. 

You’d seen this very man around Sukuna sometimes, and he seemed to be one of the quieter amongst the bunch. Below Sukuna in terms of rank, certainly, they seemed to have an almost brotherly relationship that stood out to you when you looked at the group. And, listen! It’s not that you didn’t realize a member of his fraternity could attend parties - in fact, Curses Epsilon was synonymous with parties. 

So you should have expected this. So you should have been prepared for this.

But the fact that he was here…a part of you couldn’t help but wonder whether that meant Sukuna was here, too…

What that meant he was doing…

Who…

You’re startled out of your little reverie by a call of your name- and to your horror, you’re realizing that you’d been staring right at Choso. The man was squirming before you, his ears tinged just the slightest rosy shade.

Heart thundering at your throat, you look away and turn back to Utahime. Slightly breathless, “Wh-what?”

“You’re up first!” 

She’s pointing down at the carpeted floor, which had a glinting vodka bottle in the middle that’d been spun, it seems. Its transparent circular nozzle stares you down in an almost-accusing way and makes you shift uncomfortably—you didn’t even know that they’d begun spinning bottles yet. And whoever was to fall victim to the end of its vermicular spine was the first up for their dares.

And it just-so-happened to be you. 

You gape, “I-I…”

“C’mon, c’mon! You can’t back out now-” Utahime taps her chin and pretends to think, “I dare you to—”

“Fucking hell…” You already know that this wasn’t going to end up well for you.

And just as you expected, her eyes slide over to meet another pair of eyes—dark, doe-like eyes that had been fixated on you ever since you’d been fixated on them. Subconsciously or not. She smiles as she drinks in the sheer intensity that Choso had been staring at you with, “I dare you to make out with the person sitting opposite you for ten seconds.”

Your brows furrow, “Sitting opposite…” Eyes lifting up to meet—his. “Oh.”

“Oh.” Choso’s pink lips part, the tips of his ears furiously red.

And there’s a few seconds of silence- between you two, but not the drunken students that surround you two. They erupt into cheers and wolf whistles, ribbing at a quiet Choso Kamo to get on with it. 

As you stare, stunned, he peeks up at you through his long lashes. “W-would you mind?” His quiet voice was almost inaudible.

“I…don’t.” You find yourself answering, mouth moving faster than your brain can compute. 

And before you know it, you’re rising to your feet and making your way to the middle of the circle. Those dark eyes widen as you draw nearer- so different from the red ones that you were used to.

Something in your stomach clenches, and you feel a strange buzz zing! throughout your entire body. You’re not sure whether you like it or not.

Choso himself starts to get closer to you, and your pulse quickens at his closing proximity. His eyes turn half-lidded as they flick to your lips and back up to your face, like he was making sure that you were okay with this. Tentative. Almost…shy. You’re admiring the tousled look of his hair, that tremble of his lips, and the way his eyeliner makes him look so soft. 

You wanted to run. You wanted to kiss someone. You wanted to run. “I- I really don’t.”

Choso kisses you.

For a beat. Two.

One of his ringed hands snake upwards to grip the column of your throat, and you’re parting your lips with a moan! Fuck, you were getting wet. Just in time for him to slip in his tongue and-

CRASH! THUD!

You’re wincing at the rush of light that assaults your retinas, and as you slowly blink back your vision- you realize that there were tears in them. Because of what, you’re not too sure. But you chalk it up to the harshness of the light as your eyesight clears back up.

And then you’re seeing—oh, it couldn’t have been a figment of your imagination.

You’d never mistake that cotton-candy hair anywhere.

Sukuna was on Choso, with the other man sprawled out on the ground and the rugged wrestler on top of him. Chest heaving. Skin flushed. A vein throbbing at his neck. His entire body was rigid and honed for a fight that he knew he was going to win. He had one tattooed hand gripping the front of Choso’s shirt, and the other pulled back mid-punch.

A punch that he was frozen in.

A punch that clearly hadn’t landed yet.

From what you’re surmising of the situation, Sukuna had pulled the other man off of you by his collar. From what you’re surmising of the situation, he was all but about to attack the other man just because he was kissing—

“Ryo.” You’re starting, a hand reaching out as if to stop the fight yourself. 

Any and all floatiness from the liquor had now completely dissipated from your body, and you were only left coiling in thick, unyielding tension. Surprisingly, your voice doesn’t waver. “Don’t do anything fucking stupid or god help me-”

Almost as if jolted to life by the sound of your voice, Sukuna lets go of Choso in a single, jerky movement.

Though he doesn’t speak - and you’re almost thankful for it, you don’t know what you’d say to him. Instead you’re breaking out of your little trance and pushing aside Sukuna—yes, pushing him to the side so that you can get to Choso.

Stunned, he lets you move him.

He always has.

With both hands gently placed upon either side of Choso’s handsome face, you’re inspecting him for any injuries. He flushes slightly at your touch. And - tactfully - no one nearby says a single word about it. “I’m- I’m alright.” Choso says, his tone slightly hoarse.

But you don’t give up until you’re completely and utterly sure that he’s okay. “Hm, well alright.” Finally letting up, you start to move yourself- and only then do you realize that you’d been straddling Choso’s hips. Hurrying to scramble off, “O-on behalf of him, I apologize.”

You’re lightly bowing and he stops you with a hand at your shoulder- only to glance at Sukuna and let you go as if you burned. “No, no! It’s my fault for not knowing-”

“Don’t worry.” You spare a glance at Sukuna, who had his eyes downcast and his expression revealing nothing. “There’s nothing to know.”

And that…that makes the Ryomen Sukuna flinch—

As if he’d just been stabbed.

As if the temperature in the room had dropped to freezing.

As if you’d plunged your hand right through his ribcage and torn out his heart.

But you couldn’t find it in yourself to care at his point. “Again- I’m so sorry.” Turning back to Choso, who’d been watching the exchange with side eyes - right along with half of the party that’d turned up from the living room now at the whispers of a commotion here. Especially one with the wrestling star—and over a girl at that! “And about that ah…” You gesture at his hips…the ones you’d been straddling.

Choso blushes even deeper, waving his hands in front of him frantically. “No- no, I didn’t mind! I mean- I mean, it’s alright and you don’t need to apologize! But you didn’t need to apologize anyway because I didn’t-”

“Man.” Shoko rests a hand on his shoulder, “Stop talking.”

He immediately clicks his jaw shut.

The next thing you’re doing, you don’t even know if you even fully thought it through. Because one second you’re standing up—and the next you’ve got your hand wrapped around Sukuna’s waist—and the next you’re dragging him through the packed party—

Through the crowd that turns their head to look at your unlikely duo, that turns their head to watch the gruff leader of the wrestling team be led out as if he was a naughty child.

Sukuna lets you take a few steps out of the apartment’s front door, before he’s halting in his tracks and gripping onto your waist instead. Not hard enough that it hurts, not gentle enough for you to be diverted anywhere but his one-track destination to…well, you weren’t quite sure.

“Ryo- I mean, Sukuna—” You squeal as your heels click-clack! down the stairs. You don’t pull yourself free from him, because you know he would let you. “Sukuna, I demand to know where we’re going-”

“There’s nothing to know.”

Your stomach drops.

It’s the last thing he says. The only.

And you can only follow as Sukuna draaaags you out into the night-lit street, cars lining the pavements like the straps of lingerie on a faceless body. An outstretched. A ready. 

You’re recognizing the gleaming black body of his new Audi in an instant - you would anywhere, to be honest. It took up about half the street. Imposing, just like him. It always did make your heart skip a beat to see it parked outside whatever rager you were attending for the night. Just as soon as you’re registering the car, you’re having your back pushed up against it-

“What are you-” You gasp out, before his lips are on yours.

Furious. Feral. Fighting to open them roughly with his own mouth, he’s taking a single look at your prettily parted lips and spiiiiitting straight onto your tongue- before stuffin’ it with his own tastebuds, just in the way that Choso was about to mere minutes early.

You muffle out, “M-mmpf- Sukuna!”

“Ryo.” He rasps, blindly unlocking the door and pushing you into the spacious backseat. “You know m’always your Ryo.”

That night he fucks you harder, faster than any time before.

As if he was claiming every inch of you.

And you don’t end up going home for the night—no, you end up at Sukuna’s instead. And if he made you moan his name even louder than usual, well, it’s only in the morning that you realize that Choso’s bedroom was right next door.

.

.

.

Ryomen Sukuna had flowers—

An entire bouquet of red roses that he’s sure the florist ripped him off for - surely something grown out of the dirt couldn’t be that expensive?! But he did have to admit that it looked wonderful taking up more than half of his backseat—the very same backseat he’d fucked you senseless in not too many nights ago.

The two of you hadn’t seen each other properly since Utahime’s party.

What with his wrestling practices for the upcoming tournaments, and your finals rounding the corner. It’s honestly by sheer miracle that Coach Kashimo had cancelled today’s training for some reason or the other (he honestly didn’t look too closely, merely glancing at the email before driving to the nearest florist whilst texting you to ask whether you were free). And, well, here he was…

So fucking pathetic in his excitement to meet you that he’d forgotten the damned flowers in his car!

Sukuna hopes that they weren’t wilted as he struggles to put on his ripped jeans, discarded on your bedroom floor right along with the rest of his clothes. He’s looking around frantically for his t-shirt, when you glance over at him from the bed.

And he doesn’t see the flicker of hurt in your eyes.

“Leaving so soon, Ryo?”

“Uh huh.” He’s absent-mindedly responding—where the fuck where his socks? Did he even need socks just to go down to his car-

You bite down on the inside of your cheek, “Another appointment?” Another person, is what you really wanted to ask, but…

“Something important that I forgot.” Sukuna replies, looking underneath your bed and ah- there they were. He feels you sitting up on the bed, blanket clutched to your naked chest, as he sits on the mattress with his back turned and finishes dressing up. “Fuckin’ hell, can’t believe I even came up here forgetting-”

“Right.” Your tone was clipped.

“Should’ve gone down the second I remembered but-”

“Should have.”

“Because it’s mad urgent-”

“More than me.”

“I just got a little distracted, y’know?” The pink-haired man glances over his shoulder with a teasing smirk, slightly frowning at the way you turn your head away from him. Hm…he attempts to lighten the mood, “S’all your fault, girlie~”

“Sukuna.”

And that makes him slightly wither in on himself. That tone. That name. Trying to get a good look at your face, he leans towards you. “What’s wrong…?”

“I think we should end this.”

Everything.

Everything was wrong.

Ryomen Sukuna doesn’t fight your decision, Ryomen Sukuna doesn’t try to get you to explain. He lets your words sink into his being like a pebble cast out in the vast and unceasing Blue—and he lets them fester within him just as mysteriously.

He’s walking out of your dorm a hollow man.

Right up to his car, he’s taking automatic steps. Where he flings the door open and grips the bundle of stems of those- of those fucking roses.

He wants to destroy them.

Sukuna’s hand trembles as he raises them high in the air to chuck- before his peripheral vision features two familiar faces. Unbreathing, he’s turning his head jerkily to the side and staring at them—matching crows’ feet, a slow hobble, the slightly hoarse laughter between a whispered conversation. A vision so private that he almost wants to look away, he didn’t know how you did it.

It scares him how quickly he recognizes the elderly couple to be the exact same one you’d been admiring from afar that one day at the café.

It scares him.

Ryomen Sukuna doesn’t know why he hands his heartbreak bouquet to the old couple that day. But he does remember one thing - the delighted smiles on both their faces, the way the old man had so-clearly wanted to hold the blushing, beautiful flowers. But he’d given them to his wife anyway.

Seeing the young man staring, the old man had winked. 

A knowing smile on his face.

“Oh dear, oh dear.” To which the sweetly older woman had reached down to pluck! two blossoms from the bouquet. And without hesitating, she’d tucked one behind her husband’s ear—and then beckoned Sukuna to lean down to tuck the last one behind his. Rosy red against lovely pink.

His eyes widen as her slightly roughened hands cup his cheek.

Humming with a smile, “You are so easy to love, my dear.”

Something in him breaks a little at that very moment.

And Ryomen Sukuna drives the entire four hours it takes him to drive to Itadori Jin’s university, to damn-near bang down his apartment door.

KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK—!

“I’m coming, I’m coming! Jeez…” His older brother’s familiar voice - stubborn, so stubborn just like his calls out from inside the apartment. He doesn’t care that it’s 2AM and Jin’s neighbors would be complaining, right now he just…really needed his big brother.

He can hear the footsteps get even closer. “Who the hell is it at this time- I swear if it’s rent then I already paid it two weeks ag-”

The door clicks open.

Jin’s face freezes in surprise—before it’s dropping at the look on Sukuna’s face.

“Oh, Ryo.”

His arms are around the taller man’s instantly.

And if Itadori Jin felt his sweater drench where Sukuna’s face rested, then he doesn’t say a word about it.

“What did I tell you about keeping your someone special, Ryo?”

.

.

.

It’s the next day when you’re waking up to an incessant knocking at your door.

It pounds like the headache you’d been sporting all night.

And you’re getting up, your eyes swollen - not just from sleep (in fact, you don’t think you slept a single wink all night) - and your movements all sluggish. Looking down, you realize that your pyjamas- Sukuna’s wrestling hoodie, was still drenched in tears. Your blinks were heavy. You felt a mess.

You barely even wanted to get out of your bed, and you don’t think you would have had it not been for the sheer ferocity of the knocks. 

Were they trying to break down your damn door?!

“C-coming!” You’re coughing out, sure you had a doorbell that was going unused. Disgruntled, you’re unlocking the door and reaching for the doorknob. “Jeez, Uta, I swear this isn’t really a good time if you’re going to-”

The first thing you see is red.

Red.

Red.

Red roses.

Bouquets of it lined every inch of your dorm’s corridor, as far as your eye could see, some even piled on top of each other, the largest held between Ryomen Sukuna’s trembling hands.

And the second thing you see is, well, red again.

The blush that dusts his handsome face, rivalling his pinkish locks. Sukuna takes a half-step forwards- before he seems to think better of it and lurches right back. His thick brows furrow in sincerity, as if he just wanted to make you feel his words— “I love you.” He pants, as if he’d just run here. And it feels like all the breath has been knocked out of your lungs. “I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you-”

“Oh, Ryo.”

And it’s all the confirmation Sukuna needs to let the bouquet in his hands drop down to the floor. Rustling. Letting the blossoms be replaced with something that is, to him, far more beautiful.

He crushes you so tightly into his embrace that you almost can’t breathe - nothing but the soft strawberry scent that engulfs you whole. And you almost don’t think you need to. Not right now. “I love you.”

“You idiot.” You choke out, “You idiot- you’re so- fucking- stupid.” You punctuate your words with punches to his chest, which makes it rumble with a chuckle. “And I’m even more stupid because I…”

“Yes?” Breathless.

“I love you even more, Ryo.”

He sighs with his entire soul and collapses in on his world—you.

A few minutes later.

What feels like absolutely no time later.

You’re finding your back laid flatly against your single bed - a humble compartment in your dorm room. But now it had you sprawled out across it and reaching for your rickety headboard to hang onto dear life, Sukuna kneeled at the foot of the bed and clawing at your tear-stained sweatpants.

Pulling at it.

Tearing through it.

Your whines intermingle with the rip-rip-riiiip of fabric once he’s exposing your naked legs. You were wearing nothing underneath it, and Sukuna’s fucking groaning as he opens up your thighs to take the heavenly sight in-between.

“Fuh-fuck…” You swear you see a line of glittering drool fall down the side of his mouth, one that Sukuna’s gulping back as soon as it comes. “Holy fuck, sweetheart, how do you look even tastier every time I see ya?”

You’re huffing, unable to stop yourself. “Maybe you’re just mixing me up with-”

“Don’t say that.” And though his voice was quiet, it was stern. It meant every word he was saying, “Never say that.”

Gliding his roughened hands down the tender inner parts of your thighs- you’re shivering as you feel every line and callus from his palms. Remnants of wrestling. The softness of holding you. It makes something in your heart lurch, “I-I just-”

“You don’t need to explain yourself.” Sukuna looks away with a light blush as he cuts you off, “But I do. We have much to talk about…but the one thing I need you to know is that ever since I met you, I have never, and will never, so much as look at anyone else.”

“Ryo—” You whimper, feeling the thick crowned edges of his thumbs inch towards your drippin’ core.

“And I want you to know that m’yours.” He nudges his handsome head closer, until he could breathe in the sultry scent of your pussy. You could feel the cold breeze of his inhale- “Soul…and body.”

And then he’s lavishing his loooong tongue out to lick a wet stripe at your clothed pussy.

Sluuuuuurp—! Such a greedy taste of your cunt. Before Sukuna’s drawing his muscle back in just to do it all over again - flick after flick where you were most tender. With the tip of his tastebuds he’s outlining your glistening crevice, and pinpointing them right where the knob of your clit was located.

You’re twitching as you feel him enter his lengthy tongue juuuust underneath the drenched fabric of your panties, before fishing it back out whenever he feels he got too close to your pussy. 

“P-please-” You’re grabbing onto Sukuna’s head of pink hair, trying to move him even closer. “Want you even closer- stop teasing now.”

He rolls his eyes rudely, “Teasing? You think this is me teasing, sweetheart?” And before you can register it, he’s reeling his tongue all the way back into his mouth. Leaving your poor cunt all throbbing and completely untouched. “This is me teasing.” As you buck your hips pathetically with the desire for his ridged texture, “What I was doin’ earlier was just savoring, mama.”

You throat was thick with need, “But- but what is there to savor-”

“What the fuck are ya talking about?” One of his pink brows raise.

“I mean-” You hasten to explain, your entire body radiating pure heat and need. “You’ve already had me like this before-”

“Oh—” And suddenly, the most lecherous smile plasters across his attractive face - already slicked with copious amounts of wadded slick that sticks to him like some sort of adhesive. “Girlie, you don’t even know the half of what m’capable of.”

And before you know it—Sukuna’s rugged fingers come down to spank! right on top of your pussylips. 

Before you know it, he’s clasping the side of your ass cheeks and flipping you right over as if you weighed nothing more than a feather. With one finger hooking onto your panties- you can distinctly sense when the wrestler seems to think better of it and instead bites his pearly white canines down on your soaked underwear.

You’re muffling out with your face pushed into your pillows, “Wh-what are you-”

Before he’s teeeeeeearing your panties right down with nothing but his mouth.

Exposing your quivering pussy all for him to see, smearin’ apart your folds with both his thumbs. He takes a few seconds to admire the slick that splashes out of your entrance, before spitting vertically down your slit.

Simply to add onto the mess.

It’s the only warning you’re getting before Sukuna completely surges in and shoves himself nose-deep between your puffy folds. Just the tip of his nose drags down the middle of your cunt from behind, and before you know it- his tongue is zig-zagging at your hole wiiiiiildly—

He’s like a madman. He’s like a man starved.

Gulping at the excess of your leaking sap and then munching himself even close to lap at the dewdrops of slick just about to fall out of you. They don’t even have to be pouring out of you for your greedy Sukuna to be gluing himself to your cunt.

Shovelling his tongue even deeper. 

And when your tight orifice can’t take any more of him, he’s grunting out into your cunt and spitting.

“Fuck.”—He’s clenching his jaw and spitting out once more at the slight resistance of your hole. Just the way that Sukuna’s wet muscle was oh-so-thick, and he kept having to pry apart your pussy folds even further just to inch inside. Until you’re shivering at the feeling of his knobbly tastebuds dragging down your walls, “C’mon c’mon c’mon- just fucking take it my girl, I know you want to.”

“I swear your tongue got even bigger, Ryo-”

Your velvety walls close in on him, keeping his slippery tongue hostage while he only tries to ebb even deeper. He’s clenching his jaw at the slight resistance of your tight hole. “S’only been a day and she’s forgotten me this much?”

Fisting at the pillows, “I didn’t, it’s just you’re too big.”

“Appreciate the flattery, mama.” You could feel his grin against your softened flesh. “But it’s my fault.”

Instinctually, you’re raising your head off of the spit-drenched pillows to ask just what he meant-

“But I guess I hafta eat her out so she remembers this time, hm?”

But you didn’t have to ask for the answer.

You didn’t even have to think—honestly, you don’t think you can even, well, think by the time he’s got a hold of you.

Because Ryomen Sukuna was going to do well on his promise—Ryomen Sukuna was going to do well on all his promises.

He was latching one ruthless hand onto the side of your hips and manhandling your hips to start gyratin’ down onto his open maw. Angling you in just the right position so that his swollen lips can latch onto your throbbing clit-

“Bet’cha didn’t know that m’a good multitasker.” He’s gurgling out, wads of slick n’ spittle clogging up his throat. And the thing was—Sukuna didn’t care how much he had to suffocate on your pussy, he fucking loved that shit.

“I-I don’t think I did.” You’re replying.

“And bet’cha didn’t know that I- fuck, I can reach in so deeeeeep.” The large muscle of his tongue swipes in so deeply inside of you- you can’t even fully comprehend whether he’d plunged inside all the way up to his chin because of how dumb he was fucking you.

Rough, hard strikes at all your most delicate spots inside.

Finishing off with the most sinful noises - it’s like the deeper he gets, the louder those noises get. “Bet’cha didn’t know that I r-reach yer- hah, g-spot this fast, hm?”

You’re furrowing your brows. Sure, you were slowly getting more and more dazed on his cock - but surely you weren’t that mindless that you wouldn’t notice? “Wait, but I don’t think you ever actually—oh.”

And then you’re feeling it.

And you’re realizing that Sukuna had timed it precisely for the middle of your sentence, when he can hear the effects of you stumbling and falling apart on his very tongue.

Mazing all the way inside as if searching for treasure, his thorough inches are spreading out your walls so well. Not leaving a single crevice unturned, a single drivelling orifice, a single bundle of nerves- that he’s honing in on and darting straight against.

Pushing down on the area of your g-spot, you’re suddenly jolted by the electricity of your pleasure. He snickers, “There it is.”

Crying out, “Th-that’s just mean, Ryo.”

“Th-th-that’s just mean.” Mocking, in a lilting pitch that was most certainly not reminiscent of your own. With a tough roll of his eyes, he’s only unfastened his maw to take you even deeper from behind. “Bet’cha didn’t know that I could be meeeeean—fuckin’ meaner than you even even thought.”

“I-I think I know too well.” Or so you claim - but shit, Sukuna had never eaten you out like this before.

With his pointed chin jutting against the base of your treacly cunt, and his nose curving against your slit. Sukuna isn’t just thrusting his tongue inside you, he’s also making sure to flick and linger his tastebuds into any orifice he knew you were fragile at.

Again. Probing.

Again and again and again.

And with a smug chuckle, Sukuna claims. “Bet’cha didn’t know that I could go reeeeeal fast.” Until you’re hanging your head down to stare between your slick-sheened legs and all you could see was a pink blur intruding at your folds. “Or reeeeeeal slow.”

“F-fuck, that feels so good.” Your back arches into the perfect curvature when his velveteen tongue starts slowing down into an agonizing pace.

It was just so slow that you could feel each line and crevice of his rows of tastebuds, and just so thorough that speckles of your syrup were darting from your orifice and splattering! down onto the mattress. It starts forming a puddle on the sheets beneath you- one that Sukuna was certain not to go to waste.

His free hand skids down the insides of your thighs, layering his fingers in a thin glaze of your pussy’s slick. And whence his fingertips were all done and coated, the pink-haired man was raising them up to his mouth and sucking the sweetness off.

Not. A. Single. Drop. Wasted.

With a groan, he’s not letting his time go to waste, either. And he’s back funneling your snug channel with his tongue—in and out, in and out, in and out. “Take yer pick- s’all for you, mama.”

“Sh-shit, but I like both.” You didn’t even know whether he was talking to you or your pussy by this point - but you were too gone on his tongue to even care. Slightly bucking your hips into his mouth, “But I- ngh, do like it a bit better when you go…faster…”

A sudden spank down on your clit once more, “Atta girl.”

Nose pressed up against your slit, tongue lashing ruthlessly inside.

Ruthlessly.

If you thought you were ruined on the movements of his tongue just earlier, then this sudden sloppy cadence has you seeing fucking stars. 

The gooey end of his tongue swabs against every tender spot at your innards, somehow forking at your luscious g-spot and attempting to reach even deeper. Perhaps your cervix. Perhaps your womb. And Sukuna’s permanently patterning his tastebuds against your walls. Swirling and swirling and swirling right on time with the caresses at your clit.

He didn’t care how much you bucked and trembled at the sheer pleasure of it, the frat leader’s fingernails dig deep into your flesh every time you lurch away.

“Ah ah-” Only to be hauled back down in mere seconds by one of his strong arms. Back and forth, back and forth, baaaack and forth. With an unceremonious squelch! your pussy’s being plastered back down onto his mouth. And Sukuna tongues your folds back open to start jutting in between your lips, “Don’t- haaaah, fuck, don’t fucking run away…how m’I supposed to eat out my girl’s pussy if yer fucking running away?”

“I don’t know, you’ve never- hck!” Before you can open your mouth with your next few words, Sukuna’s showing you what it means to be his girl.

To have his knobbly fingertips pinch at your clit and start drawing—“H-heh…can ya spell it?” He rovers his thumb even harder on top of it like a button, “Bet’cha didn’t know I could do that. Spell it. Or are ya fucked dumb on m’mouth already?”

You’re replying crossly, “M’not fucked-”

“Then spell it.”

With a pitiful moan, you’re throwing your head in a downward direction to try and see exactly what he was-

Smack!

Yet another mean swatting on top of your puffy pussylips, and Sukuna’s tutting against them. It was as if his lips were glued to your pussy using the slick adhesive of your juices, and he didn’t want to detach himself even to speak—even to speak. “Ah ah- no cheating now, mama. Noooo cheating.”

“Fuh-fuck—” He angles his fingertips as if he was about to strike you once more. “Fine- I meant fine! The first letter is, mmm…”

“Yeeeees?” Drawling out.

And your pupils are swirling in time with the sultry motions of his digits. It was a pattern that makes every hair on your body stand on end - too curly to be a particularly pointy letter like ‘A’ or ‘K’ and yet not even half as curly to have been an ‘S’ that might mean his name. “Is it…R?”

“Atta girl.” Yet he plants another slamming of his fingertips that makes you throw your head back and whine, “Whoops- accident, sweetheart, accident.”

“F-fu—” Fuck you, is what you meant to say.

But Sukuna’s roughly bashin’ away at your sweetest orifice a few more times, leaving a big bruise against the side of your walls with his tongue. And it simply leaves you speechless, “Mmmm, nope! The next letter isn’t ‘F’, try again.”

“Y—!” You’re bawling out, your jaw falling agape at the sheer incredible speed at which he was drawing out all those whines and noises. It was simply unbearable in the best way. Unbearable. 

You could tell that he had so-very-clearly been holding back at your previous…hangouts. And you could feel the burning sensation of bliss start up at the pit of your stomach, “And is the rest of the word ‘Ryomen’?”

“Mmm, three correct.” He answers, to which your hazy mind guesses that the first letters were R-Y-O…“Quite the sneaky lil’ thing, aren’t you? And ah- here’s a little hint, this next one’s an apostrophe.”

“Fuuuuuck, m’close.” You’re whimpering out in response- and his response, he’s only slashing at your g-spot at a faster rhythm. Only plucking at your tender clit—“S, and the next letter is- ngh, P.”

“Good, goooood—”

“U.” You gulp, and you’re unsure whether it was because of your oncoming high or because a lecherous part of you already suspected what the rest of what he was writing may be. “S…S…” Your entire body shivers, limbs unravelling - and you’re not quite sure whether you’d make it until the end of-

“Final letter.”

“Y!”

“And wha’s that spell—?” Sukuna grins out, “Her pretty lil’ name.”

Your lips wobble as you try to enunciate, “Ryo’s pussy…”

“That’s my girl.”

You’re seeing a split-second of flashing lights before you’re suddenly pushed onto your high - hard, overtaking waves of pleasure that leave you all boneless against Sukuna’s eating mouth. But that worked just alright for him- he’d simply white-knuckle onto the side of your hips and lavish your tight entrance with his entire tongue.

Probing, again and again.

The cushy edge of his tongue swipes forwards to strike your g-spot right on time with the peaks of your euphoria. Like a perfect button for him to press on and increase your pleasure until you were simply shaking, “And my girl feels so goooood on her Ryomen’s mouth, doesn’t she?” He pants, fingers pinching your clit now and rolling between the roughened pads of his index and thumb. “Feels so nice cumming on Ryo’s tongue- bet’cha didn’t know it could feel this good, huh, sweetheart?”

Furiously shaking your head, “Didn’t- didn’t know- hck!”

And with a few more moans you’re just splashin’ your clingy wads all down Sukuna’s throat, all across his handsome lower half. “Ooooo- aaaaaatta girl—”

“C-can’t stop cumming.” You shake, tears sparkling at the edges of your eyes. “It just feels so good-”

“Leave some for m’cock, alright?”

But he was the one that wasn’t leaving anything, that wasn’t showing you any mercy.

Even once the sparks of your startling orgasm have bated, he’s plunging his wide tongue in and out. Scouring the inside and outside of your treacly pussy. Licking up every single ounce of slick sploshed down your front. 

Dripping wet.

Only once you’re well and thoroughly overstimulated does Sukuna actually falter his movements, “Mmmm, there ya go, girlie~” He’s pulling his prolonged muscle out of your hole with a sloppy squeeeeeelch! He looks down at your mindlessly clenching pussy and admires his handy-work. “And now for the real deal.”

“Th-that wasn’t the real deal?” You’re asking through a whimper.

“That? That was just my appetizer, y’know?” The pink-haired man snickers at his own joke - though it really didn’t sound like a joke to you.

You attempt to flip yourself over- but Sukuna keeps you firmly in place with a hand at your hips. “Ah ah- don’t you think of running from me. Not now. Not ever.” And while you’re still draped across your front on the bed like this, Sukuna’s starting to tug off your hoodie—

Before he realizes just which one it is - his, his name on the back - and he stops immediately. 

“Actually…” Sukuna stands, and you know that tone of voice didn’t bode anything good for you. “Why don’tcha keep it on, hm?”

Instead, he’s the one that’s stripping now.

That skin-tight shirt.

Those baggy pants.

Those boxers that were—oh.

Your eyes widen, “Is it just me or did…grow even bigger since last time, Ryo?”

“Mmm- why don’t we ask my pussy about it later, hm?”

And with that said, you’re getting to turn around and admire all of Ryomen Sukuna’s toned, tanned muscles. They ripple as he discards his clothes somewhere over his shoulder, making those tattoos of his look as though they were moving by themselves.

Greedily, your eyes follow the circles on either of his deltoids. The snake-like patterns down his pecs. The rings around his beefy biceps. The rings around his wrists. All the way down to the rings around either of his meaty thighs.

Shyly, you’re realizing that you’d skipped over one spot in particular.

And you drift your eyes back up—Sukuna’s erection was hard and hot between his legs. The most furious red at his mushroom tip that made him look as though he was so achingly needy he might as well fall off.

That you might as well count each one of his throbs.

Biting down on your lower lip, you’re impatient as you follow a bead of milky pre that dollops on top of his thick tip. Smearing just a bit. Travelling down, down, dooooown the veiny length of his shaft- until it ends up at the unruly tufts of pink at his base.

His tattooed base.

One more ring around his hilt, and next to that—you gasp.

“Oh…oh my god.” Without a second thought, you’re leaning in to get a closer look at that irritated patch of skin next to Sukuna’s v-line. And if your eyes weren’t deceiving you - that part of his skin had a swirling black calligraphy of none other than your fucking name on him. “Don’t tell me you’ve-”

“I did.”

You gape up at him, “Ryomen Sukuna, you’re fucking crazy-”

“I know.” He shivers as you reach out to touch it. Sukuna was fully unclothed now and prowling towards you on the bed, like a predator closing in on his prey. “But I couldn’t just name that pussy of yours ‘Ryo’s pussy’ and not contribute my part, too, could I? I had to show my dedication too, mama.”

“But putting it permanently on your skin-”

“Is the best decision I’ve ever made.”

You knew there was no talking him out of it, and Sukuna’s eagerly smoothing his calloused palm on top of your stomach. Caressing you. Drinking you in with his eyes.

Flipping you onto your stomach once more-

“Now face down, ass up- I wanna fuck my girl right.”

You’re barely managing to let your sweaty scalp hit your pillow before Sukuna suddenly has his obtuse tip squeezed between your pussylips and pushing and pushing—

“Oh—”  Your eyes are scrunching as tight as they could close, and the only thing you can do is utterly melt into Sukuna’s carnal desire. You don’t think you’d ever get used to his sheer size. “Oh my god- oh my fucking- ngh, I always love h-how you feel-”

“For now-” And it’s a damn miracle that the man could speak - especially when your tender walls were squeezing him like that. “F-for now just pretend it’s the first time.”

Did he just stutter? What was he even…“Wh-what- oh.” You’re being shut up by Sukuna’s rugged, ravenous tip once more. He’s swabbing every treacly spot of your insides without even trying - simply just attempting to fit and fit and fit—

“Just- hah- just pretend s’the first time.” He kisses his lips to his teeth, both clammy hands plastered onto the side of your hips to help him funnel his massive cock inside.

His flared slit lodges against the roof of your cunt, and you’re arching just so beautifully into him- that he can’t help but lean down and bite at the side of your throat. Humming in satisfaction at the way the marking is just covered by his hoodie, it gives him the courage he needs to say those next few words. “Pretend s’just you and I. Pretend s’our first time- ngh.”

“You mean to say—oh.” You’re dizzy on the way his honed tip was perfectly opening up your hidden spots, and every time he’s reeling his hips back it’s just a constant back and forth. “Don’t think I even knew I had a spot there…”

“Good- good, jus’ like that.” He grunts out, holding you even tighter to his muscular body. “Pretend s’like we’ve never fucked before. You’re my girl- always have been. M’your Ryo- always have been. Always will be.”

“A-always will be-”

“And right now s’our first time, I’ve never fucked you before- oh, forget about all those fucking times in my room and in the car.” He whispers out, something desperate cracking primally at the back of his throat as he eases his way inside. “S’our time now—and I get to finally, finally fuck you as mine.”

All his.

And you’re finding that when Sukuna’s fucking you as just his…it means he’s so much more ravenous than you’ve ever known him to be.

So much more ruined.

So much more out-of-control—

It’s like he’s truly realized his full potential. “Since yer mine I get to- hah! stop you from running from my cock whenever I like.” Hauling you down like a ragdoll with both hands on your waist, you shrill at the slamming contact of his hips against your hips. His thighs against the backs of your thighs. His large cockhead against your ready cunt. “I get to fuck you raw for the first time. I get to fuck you so much- s-so fucking much n’ I don’t even have to worry about the marks I leave.”

“What marks?”

A slam so hard that you swear you can feel the globular end of his shaft right near your throat—“These marks.”

And you’re almost about to repeat your question in search of an answer once more- before you’re realizing what exactly Sukuna means.

Marks.

The marks he was leaving on every gooey orifice inside your cunt, on the globes of your ass being pummeled by his hips, on the sides of your body under the mercy of his grip.

Using that very same grip, he’s folding you on all fours underneath him. Tighter and tighter. Closer and closer to his hulking body. Before your muddled brain can register it, Sukuna’s reaching over his meaty right leg to plant right on top of your sweaty scalp.

Yes—on top.

The heel of his foot ends up on your head, and your eyes snap open in- perhaps shock, perhaps at the sheer audacity of him. You jolt.

“Ah ah-” The only thing you hear before one of his hands clasp ‘round the cottony fabric of your hoodie and tugs it down - it seems that your sudden lurching movement had made his uniform bunch up by your head. 

And the famed wrestler wasn’t just bringing it down to take a good look at your pretty self. No—he was also bringing it down to read the name - his name - emblazoned across your back and jostling to and fro while you were being fucked by his ruthless hips. “Theeeeere we go, gotta rep the name, mama. Especially the first time.”

“Rep the set? You’re already fucking me- ngh, senseless.”

“And yet I already get to have you- fuck, wear this f’me. My girl. My lovely, lovely girl.” His toned figure leans down and he’s sloppily kissing at the name. 

His name—fuck, how he loved this position. That was why he’d purposefully chosen it, to have his name peak up at him as he ploughed himself into you like a madman. Grunting out once your sopping lips squeeze him at the stretch, “The girl with my- hck! last name-”

“Ryo!”

“Whoops- too soon?” He doesn’t even sound the least bit regretful. And you can’t even answer, because then he’s only fucking your surprised whines out of you, “Mmm, and don’t forget that I also get to do- heh, this.” And as if it was even possible, his vicious hips accelerate their tempo against you. “I get to do whaaaatever I want with my girl’s pretty pussy- ah, apologies, my pretty pussy just to fit my thick cock inside.”

“I-inside-” You mindlessly babble out, “Want it inside-”

“Yeah? Want it all the way until my tattoo? Never been fucked like this before, have ya?”

Well, he has fucked you like this before. But that coherent part of you realizes that that wasn’t exactly the answer that Sukuna wanted right now—“No- no, never. You’re the first to fuck me like this, Ryo, mmm.”

“Good.”

Whether he was praising you for keeping up with his conversation - or whether he was praising you for taking his cock until he’s bottoming out - you’re not quite sure. Either way, the curly pink hairs at his base finally reach your folds—and they scritch-scratch at your pussy in such a carnal way you never knew you needed.

As he’s fully inside of you, the wrestling superstar hunches his entire body over and shivers. And pants. And throbs his entire length deeply inside of you in a way that makes your head pound with a rapid ba-thump! Ba-thump! Ba-thump!

“H-here….” One of his hands lifts off of your hip to caress down the front of your stomach. Sukuna feels for where his swollen tip was pulsating against your womb, and presses doooown against that lil’ bump. “S’my first time kissin’ my girl over here, isn’t it?”

“It- it is—”

And Sukuna truly is fucking you like it’s the first time - he’s fucking you like he’s angrier he didn’t have you earlier, he’s fucking you like he’s making up for all the lost time.

Just roughened, piercing bashes against your g-spot- he doesn’t even have to try to locate that bruised n’ battered little area on your channel. The rounded orifice of it gets pummeled by his shaft, and you’re seeing stars due to the sheer pressure of him. “It feels so- ngh- fuck.” You could barely even string together a sentence, head feeling all airy. 

“Feels soooo—?”

“I don’t- I don’t even…” He doesn’t even have to be fully inside to let his curvaceous tip poke into your cervix. Purposefully angling his hips, Sukuna’s rub-a-dubbing the door to your womb with his puckered tip. “Th-think m’cockdrunk, Ryo.”

And if you were in any better state of mind, maybe you’d have noticed the way that his rude cadence seemed to stutter. “C-cockdrunk?”

Nodding through your tears, “I am, I am—oh.”

But of course, never let Ryomen Sukuna be known as the man that doesn’t take care of his cockdrunk partner. 

Never. 

Because in a split-second, he’s lifting his rude foot off of your head and you jolt at the sudden rush of blood to your scalp. “Oh- oh my…”

Only mere moments of mercy before you feel your entire limp body be hoisted off of the mattress.

Your eyes damn-near bulge out of your scalp, and you’re flailing at the feeling before- “Shhh, shh sh- be a good girl f’me before you make me put that foot atop your head again, mama.” Sukuna grunts, and suddenly you’re feeling one of his strong arms look around your neck.

You could feel all those developed biceps of his bulging against your throat once Sukuna cradles your neck and squeeeeezes. Spittle flowing out of you and down his veiny forearm like a fountain, “D-did you just put me in a fucking- ngh, headlock?!”

“Mhm.” He shows absolutely no remorse, “And I don’t hear her complaining.”

In fact, he could only hear the most sopping wet squelches emanating from your cunt.

And so Sukuna keeps holding you in this treacherous headlock whilst he’s pummeling you from behind. All those veiny inches of his cock being slurped right up between your pussy lips. Again. And again. And again and again and again—

It feels like hours have passed before you’re jolting at the sudden feeling of Sukuna’s warm fingertips slithering down between your sheeny legs once more. Your clit throbs like it’d missed his touch- and never one to leave you wanting more anymore, he’s twisting his rugged fingers on the nub.

Letting the patterned edges of his digits start twistin’ and turning that swollen knob in his hand. Your cunt squelches out a wet splash of slick at the sudden pleasure, “I-it just feels so good-”

“I know.” Sukuna hums, all smug with himself. “She’s told me- heh, think about thaaaat—I get ta speak with her for the first time tonight.” Before you can say anything else, he dips his head down to look at your cunt from underneath you and coos. “Hey, girlie, how are ya~?”

“Y-you’re unbelievable-” And yet he’s rovering his thumb all over your clit in a way that just has you gasping for more, and your cunt squelching out even louder.

“Mmm, m’doing good, thanks for asking.” He continues…a fucking conversation with your pussy. And at your widened stare, he shrugs. “What? M’only having a chat with- hah, my pussy. Wha’s wrong with that?”

“N-nothing…” You suppose.

“Exactly.” And then he times the ministrations of his thick thumb just right to roll over your clit in synchronization with his cock. You’re feeling one incredible thud! at your g-spot, and then you’re feeling another drag on your clit. This time…a pattern that you’re finding strangely familiar- “Can you spell, mama?”

“Are you asking—” Smack! A rude spank on your cunt, “F-fuck…”

“Apologies ‘bout that. S’my first time with you, remember? And I hafta get to know you. Get to do this.” He hums, and it’s not to you anymore. He’s completely and utterly devoted to keeping all his concentration on giving your pussy the utmost pleasure possible - from two different places of origin. “So about that spelling—”

“Fuck, Ryo, what are you trying to…”

This time, he’s not cutting you off. This time you’re trailing off out of your own volition, your ears listening for the sequences of letters that Sukuna calls out.

A sequence that sounds oddly familiar.

A sequence that spelled out your name.

He drag-drag-draaaaags your clit and it lets out a particularly loud lecherous sound that the larger man beams at, “Mmm, exactly. Perfect pronunciation and all- now let’s see if you can spell the rest.” And without further ado, Sukuna’s expert fingertips start outlining a different set of letters on your throbbing clit.

Making you shake with pleasure, “W-wait that spells…” Silently mouthing along.

S—he’s accelerating the thumps all the way at the back of your cervix, until you’re feeling dizzy.U—K—just the sheer amount of tears that streamed down your cheeks already told you that you were getting close to your high. U—

Your eyes widen, “Y-you’re not seriously-”

“Shhhh.”

N—but oh, he was. As if he was reading off of that sports hoodie on your back. And he was letting you tremble uncontrollably in the aftermath of his constant strikes and thumps at your greedy orifice, drilling into you with a hunger that never satiates. A hunger that tells you he’s wanted to do this for a long, long time. A—

You whisper what exactly it spelled out.

Your name, with the last name of-

“-Sukuna.” The man himself finishes off, before leaning down to leer at your drivelling cunt. The very same that was slurping and squelching away maddeningly at your gushing slick—“S’gonna be your name very soon, my girl.”

You don’t quite know which one of you he’s talking to - you or your pussy.

But you don’t quite care at this moment, either. Because in almost no time, you’re bursting into your nth high of the night - it’s no longer simply your second anymore.

Because as soon as you’re crashing into the white-hot wave of your second, you’re plummeting into your third. Your fourth. Your fifth. Seemingly dragged out of you as if it was oh-so-easy by none other than Sukuna’s ruthless cock.

You shake as it explodes through you, harder than any other orgasm you’ve experienced in your entire life.

Toes curling.

Lashes staining with tears.

The only thing you can do is arch your back into Sukuna’s sculptured one and let him thoroughly bash you through your zaps of euphoria. Over and over.

He lets his veiny shaft glide down your gooey insides, caressing every inch of you that seemed to explode with pleasure any time he was pistoning into you. “Yeah-” He grunts, feeling you uncontrollably clench around him. “Yeah, yeah, yeah- cum around my cock, sweetheart. Only around my cock—” His headlock on you tightens, “-got it?”

“Got it-” You babble out stupidly, your cheek slipping along the sheen of saliva you’d created on his forearm. “I got it, I got it- but…”

One pink brow raises, “But…?”

“But I also want you to do o-one thing f’me.”

He nuzzles the crook of your neck, “Anything.”

“Cum inside?”

And, well, Sukuna did say ‘anything’—didn’t he?

Because with a few more vulgar thrusts, the infamous frat leader is tipping his head back and emptying himself out inside you. You could feel the way that his thiiick balls clench from behind you, each of those wadded webs of ivory sap being poured out into you.

Each and every single one.

Stuffed and stuffed inside of you.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you take in the second skin that he’s layering on top of your insides. Something so warm and filthy feeling heavy inside of your orifice—fuck, you’re discovering that a primal part of you loved the feeling.

It sploshes! out into your deepest depths and create a lil’ puddle that you can feel even at your cervix. Just swirled around by his thickened tip, “C-cumming—” The man rasps out, voice botched with a primal sort of hoarseness. He stutters as he cums. He shakes as he cums. Crimson eyes shuttering at the most blissful feeling in the world, spurting his seed inside your needy pussy. “And then there’s that- hah! I get to cum inside you for the f-first time…”

And it really was the first time he was filling you up like this. All the way up to the brim and fucking those pearly beads of cum right back inside you, “Kinda- ngh, always wan’ you to cum inside me.”

He pecks the side of your temple, hips still shifting filthily. “Hey then we’re gonna have a- mmm, mini-Sukuna before you’re even Mrs. Sukuna, girlie.”

“M-maybe I don’t mind…” Bucking your hips back into his for more friction.

“Talkin’ outta that pussy, I see.”

With yet another sudden spank! on top of your sultry folds, you’re being flipped over once more and stuffed right back up to your womb with Sukuna’s thickened inches. All of them shoved right up until you can feel them at your very throat- “We might have to dumbify her too, I’m afraid.”

“S’gonna be a long night.” You’re commenting with a shiver.

Sukuna grins, “How’d you spell ‘the first of many’?”

.

.

.

The tournament was in an uproar by the time you’re running into the stands.

Well, more bowing and apologizing as you scramble to your seat past rows of other supporters- but you stand by it nonetheless. You’re letting out a pant of relief as you finally plop unceremoniously down onto the only empty chair in the stands, placing down your bag and pulling on the collar of Sukuna’s wrestling hoodie in an attempt to fan yourself. 

“You’re late, my dear.” Utahime hisses from the row behind you, flipping off the middle-aged man that grumbles at her.

“I know, I’m sorry!” You whisper back - ah, so that’s where they were. A few more rows behind her were some of the Curses Epsilon brothers - including Choso - that you had been starting to get to know, little by little. They wave happily at you and you wave back with a grin. You’d been wanting to get seats next to all of them, but it seems they’d filled up faster than you’d hoped.

At the very least you were lucky to have your friends so close by you, and you’re shooting them an apologetic smile - after all, you were the one that’d bugged your two best friends to join you watching Sukuna’s wrestling match. You mouth, “Whole story. Explain later.”

“Traffic?” Shoko asks from next to your purple-haired friend, looking up from her anatomy textbook. For what reason she had that, you weren’t quite sure…and you weren’t brave enough to ask, either.

Choosing the short story, you’re nodding at her suggestion.

You’d run all the way here, truth be told.

Sukuna was already halfway through his final match of the tournament, one more and he’d win this collegiate title. And though a part of you was upset that you’d missed out on so much (sure, you could watch them later on the recordings, but it was the principal that counted!), it made you so-very-proud to see so many of the recruiters with their eyes locked on Sukuna and Sukuna only.

Your boyfriend of just shy of a month.

You couldn’t blame them—fuck, you just wished you hadn’t had to wait so long at the dry cleaner’s! Apparently there had been some sort of mix-up that’d resulted in you being quite delayed while you actually waited to claim the hoodie you knew and loved too much.

Sure, it’d been slightly stained from some of last nights…activties (somewhat of a good luck ritual, he claimed, though you knew what he really wanted to do was fuck you in the hoodie with his name), but beloved nonetheless! 

Anyways—after falling behind your schedule, you’d been hit by traffic, and then there was the issue of actually trying to navigate the stadium, and then- well, here you were!

Evidently, it seems that Sukuna is sensing the same thing.

Because in the middle of an ankle lock, Sukuna’s crimson eyes flick upwards towards the stands- and they’re meeting yours instantly.

A charged tension only the two of you could feel.

Squirming slightly in your seat at the intensity of his stare, his realization, you give him a wave.

In mere split-seconds, Sukuna has the other man slammed down onto the floor and his sweaty body struggling to even move. You cheer, that had to have at least been two points.

“We’re lucky you’re here, my dear.” Utahime leans down to whisper to you. “You won’t believe what that boyfriend of yours was like before the game- moping around, calling you, staring longingly at his phone wallpaper of you—eugh! I didn’t even know that a man of that size and strength could act like a lost puppy.” She shudders.

Shoko states plainly, “What she means to say is that your boyfriend missed you.”

And you’re just about to open your mouth to answer- when right beside you, a jittery voice speaks up.

“P-pardon me.” The three of you turn your heads in the direction of the man that’d been seated to your left, you hadn’t paid much attention to him considering the frantic state you’d been in when you first got here. “Did you say ‘boyfriend’?”

And now, you almost wished you did.

Because the man beside you looked exactly like Sukuna only…softer. Quieter. Calmer. With an air about him that told you that perhaps he was the type that grew up with quite a bit of responsibility. He wore a sweater with the shapes of some marine animals sewn into it. He didn’t have any of Sukuna’s tattoos or the chiselled look of a recent athlete or the gruffness he wore like a cloak - but the resemblance was uncanny. 

The bespectacled man adjusts his glasses and your jaw drops—this must be his older brother that he told you so much about! “You must be his girlfriend that he’s told me so much about.”

“Y-yes!” You snap out of your little reverie at his words, and you’re immediately reaching out your hand for a handshake. “You must be his older brother, Jin?”

Jin pulls you in for a hug, sighing out against you. “Thank you so much for taking care of him.”

“No- not at all! The pleasure’s all mine, and he’s the one that takes care of me most of the time.” You’re sheepishly admitting, “Thank you for taking care of him all this time, I know he looks up at you so much.”

The other pink-haired man blushes, scratching behind his neck. “W-well I wouldn’t say that…” He glances to his left, “Oh! And silly me- I forgot to introduce you to our father.”

You’re beaming at the gruff old man seated next to Jin, a furrow between his brows that you could’ve recognized anywhere on his younger son. “It’s a pleasure to meet you!”

The introductions between you and Sukuna’s family go swimmingly (if there was a wrestling alternative then you’d have said it), and you’re finding that they were the absolute sweetest. Jin was soft and compassionate, the polar opposite of Sukuna and yet so similar to him at his deepest core. Wasuke was more like Sukuna on the outside, and you swear you could feel your sides splitting at the quips he’d comment about his son while you all watched the match.

Eventually, the three of you along with your friends in the latter rows are chatting up so much of a storm that you almost don’t notice—“He’s about to win.”

At the sound of your voice, the rest of your group looks over at the ringed boundaries of the match.

Instantly, you’re all up on your feet and cheering at the top of your lungs. 

All of you.

Jin and Wasuke.

Shoko and Utahime.

The Curses Epsilon boys.

You.

And when Ryomen Sukuna finally defeats his tough opponent, you can’t decide which one of you cheered the loudest.

But what you do know is that he’s sauntering up past the boundary the minute his win is announced - all sweat-streaked and spitting out his mouth guard, all panting and toned with his muscles, all uncaring whether or not his coach is talking to him right now.

He doesn’t care

He doesn’t care.

Sukuna’s breaking into a sprint once he sees you getting off the stands—and scoops you into his arms whilst you yelp in delight. 

You knew you must look such a sight, you and this hulking man.

You feel him bury his face into the crook of your neck, whispering. “Could you all have been any louder?” And you could feel the way his face burns against your skin.

“What- the King of the Court fan club?” You’re innocently questioning, “Yes, that is our name and you can thank Jin for that. And no, we don’t show signs of stopping any time soon- we actually plan on expanding to the rest of the campus by the end of semester-”

He peeks up at the group behind you, here just for him - his brother and father, your friends, his fraternity brothers - and groans. And you can only laugh.

“You all are insufferable.” Sukuna says, baritone dramatically pained. “Especially you.”

“You’re obsessed with me.”

He presses his lips to yours, “That, I am.”

A/N. A MAN WHO YEARNS IS A MAN WHO WHAT??

Plagiarism not authorized.

[viixa]

bulking-season him doesn’t just look different—he feels different. it’s in the weight of him when he lays on you, the way his chest seems broader overnight, how his thighs take up more space on the bed. his whole body feels denser, heavier, like he’s carrying an extra layer of warmth that only you get to touch. even his hugs change; he used to wrap his arms around you, now he engulfs you, pulling you into his chest until you can barely breathe, whispering, “missed you,” like it’s a confession.

you notice it first in the mornings. the way he stretches and his back looks huge—muscles thick and carved, delts rounded, veins standing out along his arms because he’s been lifting like a demon. when he grabs your hips, his hands feel bigger, rougher, more demanding. he picks you up without warning now, with this effortless strength that makes your stomach drop. you’ll squeal and yell at him to put you down, and he just laughs, voice still raspy from sleep, “can’t. i like carrying you.”

and oh god—the appetite. not just for food. bulking-season him fucks like he’s starving. like he’s been thinking about you all day, every rep, every set. he comes home already half-hard, chest pumped, smelling like sweat and something primal, and the second he sees you? it’s over. he doesn’t even take his shoes off sometimes—he crowds you into a wall with his newly heavy body, one big hand sliding under your shirt, the other grabbing your ass like he owns it.

he kisses you messy, urgent, teeth grazing your lower lip, and you can feel the extra weight behind every movement. he’s stronger. more grounded. when he presses you into the bed, you feel the difference—the solidness of him, the warmth that rolls off his skin, the way his thighs cage you in and you know there’s no moving him even if you tried.

and he gets feral when he’s inside you. something about the bulk makes him rut harder, deeper, like he can’t get close enough. he holds your hips still with those thick hands and fucks into you with this steady, overwhelming force that makes your vision blur. his groans are deeper, too—lower, almost animal-like—like the sound is coming from somewhere way down in his chest.

he’ll pin your wrists above your head, muscles flexing, veins popping along his forearms, and say shit like: “hold still. let me have you.”

“you can take it — c’mon, pretty girl.”

“fuck, you feel even tighter when i’m bigger.”

and when he gets close? he grabs your thighs and folds you so easily it scares you a little—not rough, just strong. the kind of strength that comes from weeks of training and eating like he’s preparing for hibernation. he buries his face in your neck, fucking into you harder, faster, chasing his release with this raw, hungry determination that makes you feel devoured.

afterwards, he’s still panting, still heavy on top of you, one big hand stroking your thigh like he’s calming himself down. then he grins—tired but still cocky, and murmurs, “round two in ten minutes. just need a snack first.”

and he means it. because bulking-season him isn’t just horny… he’s insatiable. he's stronger. heavier, hungrier—and every part of him feels made to ruin you.

we love big beefy men over here YUM

© viixa. do not copy, translate, or reupload my works anywhere.

[rawkuna]

i write plenty of shy and nice girl!reader x sukuna, but what about sukuna with bitchygf!reader?

the kind of girl who snaps before she asks. who glares harder than she smiles, crosses her arms when she’s not getting her way, and always has something to say—sharp, precise, and mean enough to make a lesser man flinch.

but sukuna isn’t a lesser man.

you bite, he bites back. you insult him, he smirks and drags it lower. you stomp around the kitchen like a storm cloud and bark orders at him like he’s your personal grunt—fix this, grab that, you folded the laundry wrong, again, moron. and he only shrugs, unbothered, licking his teeth like he’s debating whether or not to fuck you on the countertop just to shut you up.

you get under his skin like no one else. not in a “get out of my face” kind of way. in a you piss me off so bad i’m hard kind of way. the attitude. the pout. the venom in your voice when you say “is it that hard to not fuck everything up, sukuna?” like he’s your headache, not your boyfriend. he hates it.

he’s obsessed with it.

because for all the barking, all the snarling, all the glares you throw at him like knives—there’s one place you don’t win. one place you can’t.

and it’s right here, between the sheets, under his weight, with your ankles shoved to your ears and his cock buried so deep in your cunt it feels like you’re choking on it.

“what happened to all that mouth, huh?” he grunts, hips snapping forward hard enough to make your tits bounce, hands wrapped tight around the backs of your knees as he folds you in deeper, tighter, rougher. “thought you were gonna tell me how much i suck.”

but all you do is whimper.

soft and helpless. the exact opposite of what you were an hour ago, slamming the cabinet doors and snapping at him for forgetting to buy your drink at the store. now you’re melting. drooling. pussy clenching so sweet around him he can barely hold himself together. you claw at his shoulders like you want to fight and cry at the same time, lip trembling when you try to form words but only manage a soft, broken “suku—fuck, s’too much—”

he growls. “too much, but still takin’ it like a good girl, huh?”

your glare’s gone. all watery now. no bark. no bite. just a ruined little thing pinned under his weight, crying on his cock with each deep thrust like you’ve never been mean a day in your life.

and he fucking loves it.

loves the way your fight dies out, the way your legs shake when he tells you to keep them open, the way your voice breaks down into whiny little please, please, fuck— when he doesn’t let up. the change is addictive. the way he turns his brat into his baby. makes you soft with nothing but cock and a little pressure on your lower belly.

you can have the last word everywhere else. he’ll let you.

but in this bed, underneath him, fucked too dumb to remember what you were mad about?

he wins. every time.

[mumblin]

i think human!sukuna who has a crush on you would be soooooo insufferable

i think he would vape. and he would be really particular, he only likes ice flavors. i think he would only smoke cigarettes in front of you because he knows it's kinda gay gay to be vaping and wants you to think he's cool.

i think he would be loud and annoying, but you can tell he's got a good heart with how careful he is with his words around you. always tip-toeing around subjects. probably has never saved a spider in his life until he’s met you.

he has three instagram posts, all three are gym pics and they’re all edited dark as fuck. he posted them five years ago but he still looks the same so they serve their purpose. his tagged photos are him in his frat, sports, high school football teams, throwback thursdays from his buddies he’s still good with.

if he got your socials he’s liking ever single post. he’s not being subtle. he’s commenting, dm’ing you immediately like IN YOUR FACE directly interested. if he found your spotify he would post a song you like on his stories.

he’s suddenly going out more than normal to see if he will see you. suddenly, going to work and the gym isn’t apart of his routine. suddenly he is going grocery shopping weekly instead of his monthly bill buying. suddenly he’s getting his nails done and is interested in skincare.

you give him the time of day he suddenly can’t sleep. he wants to call. he will cold call. sometimes he’ll text a “watch this” to warn you but he will just call you. anytime. calls keep you up until 6 am when the sun starts rising. he’s fighting sleep to hear your voice. he dies hearing your sleepy voice. he’d call you at work to ask you a stupid question.

he’d send gym vids. “want a push up video full audio until failure?” bc he’s ran thru.

first date with him he’s picking you up. probably has a big SUV. is reluctant to let you have the AUX but he’d do anything to keep you at this exact proximity.

let him drive you to work please he’s dying to do anything to show you off. he likes seeing you in his passenger seat so much, likes to dramatically run around his car to open the door for you.

sends you voice messages. the one time you send a couple he’s losing his mind.

genuinely cannot stop looking at you. a long drive with him and he can barely keep his eyes on the road. if that road is a long stretch he’s stealing glances.

he’s genuinely funny. he understands all of your references, mostly because he is a (retired) slut but you two have a lot in common.

he’s a romantic guy who dotes on you constantly when you two aren’t in a relationship. he stops whatever he’s doing for you. he’s the annoying coworker everyone hates who’s calling you with his airpods in so he can get through the day. they let him do it because he’s good at his job and he’s been in a less pissy mood at work since he met you.

will add to this later.

[tojisteddy]

size kink but reader isn’t actually small. You’re small compared to him.

And it throws you off a little bit, because you know you’re about or above average in height. You have a little weight on you, and it all mixed together with that gorgeous face that makes the man swoon just from eyeing you up across the bar.

It’s maybe your first time dating a man who you really have to look up to. Hes tall, broad shoulders, a large chest and amazing muscles. He’s the type you can easily spot in a crowd, who will take your hand in his large one and lead you through the mess of a busy Sunday market. Loves looking down on you and rubbing at all your curves while hugging you from behind. He’ll whisper it while kissing along your neck.

“So fuckin small, so fuckin pretty.” He grumbles.

But you’re not small, but he makes you feel like it. Everytime he lifts you off your feet you get spooked because he sweeps you off your feel like you weight a crumb. How he towers over you when he flirts or reaches for something past you. His shirts actually going mid thigh and barely coving your ass. How he measures where his cock is gonna reach in your pudgy stomach—

you two play fight a lot because you swear you can take him on. He’s not that much taller than you. Do you end up getting bent in half, knees to your earlobes, like it’s nothing?

Every fucking time.

Everytime he has to break you in like you’re a born again virgin, his large fingers stretching out your dripping tight walls till he smacks his leaking mushroom tip against you, rubbing through your sloppy folds. He slowly ruts himself inside you, with the power of patience, till it feels like hes stuffed you full. It’s almost a disappearing act the way you take his thick veiny cock.

“ Hah- ‘s not all the way there Mama, come on baby, biiig stretch.”

And he fills you to the hilt, till he feels his balls smack against you, covering your body completely, his large weight pressing against you ever to perfectly. your eyes rolling to the back of your skull, letting out a pornographic moan. You clench around him making him his. He presses into your stomach with the bass of his fingers, riiiiight where he can feel his tip kissing your cervix and you cream around him from that alone, sobbing at how big he is, how much he stretches you out.

“That’s my fuckin girl, take my cock so well.”

˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡ Simon, Toji, König, Sukuna, Joel, John, Gojo, Nanami

a/n: for the girls who are 5’8 and above✊🏾 Joel & John 6’2 propaganda? Well, yes!!

[swearimnevergivingup]

when did nanami kento get hot? (18+)

you almost don’t recognise him at first. the nanami kento you remember in high school was stiff, reserved, and sported an abomination of side-swept bangs paired with too much hair-gel. he was cute, sure, perhaps in that awkward, alternative kind of way that somehow managed to charm a girl like you in the first place. but hot? no, not like this.

now, standing across the room at your ten-year school reunion, he looks distinctly different. broader shoulders, a jawline that could cut glass, and a perfectly tailored suit that fits his impressive frame immaculately. the bangs are gone — his hair is slicked back now, a pair of glasses perched on his nose, and for the first time you find yourself wondering — when the hell did nanami kento get so hot?

“it’s been a while,” he says when he finally crosses the room over to you. his voice is deeper, richer now, and when your eyes meet you find yourself wondering if he looks at just anyone that way now, or if he’s also thinking about study dates, shy kisses to the cheek, and the budding romance that fizzled out when you both went off to different colleges.

you’re still struggling to wrap your head around his transformation when he fucks you hard against the wall of his hotel room later on. his hands are firm against your waist as he eases into you, stretching you in a way that steals the air from your lungs. every snap of his hips pins you tighter and tighter against the wall, and you don’t know why your heart still manages to flutter when his palm comes to cushion your forehead from hitting the plaster, shielding you from the impact even as he drives into you harder.

every thrust is precise, deliberate, merciless — but his hands stay tender and his mouth presses gentle kisses to your back. he whispers praise and filth into your ear that has your cunt clenching pathetically in response, and god, you’re begging for this man to ruin you before you even know what you’re saying. you’re cumming hard around his thick cock in no time, but he doesn’t let up until your legs are shaking and your voice has dissolved into incoherent babble.

you may hardly recognise the man he is now, but there’s one thing that still hasn’t changed about nanami: he’s a man who always knows what he wants. it’s been that way when he first asked you out all those years ago, and it seems like it’s still that way now, when he asks for your number and a chance to make up for lost time. you’re still flushed, struggling to catch your breath when he finally speaks.

“i’m sorry,” he rasps, and for the first time tonight he actually appears a little shy. “i didn’t exactly do this in the right order. can i take you out to dinner some time?”

[reignpage]

Dear darling wife, the distance is agony...

Synopsis: in which you're upset with your husband and won't respond to his messages, so he has to resort to contacting you during work hours... using your work emails Warnings: fluff, slightly suggestive, playful arguing — no one's actually upset, features guests stars (one gets bullied).

From: [email protected] Subject: Talk To Me Please

Good morning, dear,  Or rather, it would be, if my wife so much as looked in my direction this morning. Instead, I find myself writing to you like some forgotten soul behind enemy lines, using this means of communication as if I am but a mere stranger begging for a moment of your time. It is humiliating. Your refusal to hear your husband out is noted and begrudgingly endured but I forgive you (see? It is not so hard at all).  Please just answer your messages. We have a data plan for a reason.  Love, always,  Your Kento

From: [email protected] Subject: Seriously?

Hello Kento,  I hope you are well.  Please refrain from contacting me via my work email. It is inappropriate and annoyingly endearing. Let me be mad in peace. Thank you.  Best wishes,  Your Wife

From: [email protected] Subject: Please Forgive Me

Hello to you too, sweetheart, I must admit your response is both upsetting and encouraging. Truthfully, I wasn't expecting you to respond at all. Of course, I wish your email was more welcoming but beggars and whatnot. What must I do, my love? I have apologised. Not once or twice, but countless times. So many times now it feels like ‘I’m so sorry’ were my first words. I rose early to prepare your favourite breakfast — drove clear across the city to find the precise ingredients (you and I both know there is only one acceptable brand of jam in this household). I plated it neatly, included a smiley face, just as you like it, though, I observed, it was met with a frown, thus defeating the spirit of these things.  Your work clothes were laid out, ironed with care and to perfection, if I may say so myself. I made sure the heating was on well before you awoke, so the chill wouldn’t bother you so — I’ve seen how cold mornings test your…patience, should we say. Your lunch was packed and ready, with a handwritten note tucked inside, although I’m sure you carelessly tossed it aside in your bid to destroy my will to live on a spiritual level. It was a new recipe, by the way. I hope it suits your taste. Do let me know. Perhaps by softening your glare when you arrive home since apparently smiles are beneath you. Even last night, I relinquished the duvet entirely — though I must admit, it was less an offering and more a tactical surrender after you ripped it from my body without mercy. I woke up frozen, on the brink of pneumonia. Need I remind you, I am at a tender age?  And after all of that… You walked past me. Not a word. Not even a glance. You washed the dishes (which is, and I cannot stress this enough, my responsibility), and shoved my work clothes off the bed because — what was it? The sleeve was ‘encroaching’ upon your own and the cotton needed space because ‘husband air is toxic?’ That was particularly hurtful. Entirely uncalled for. My blazer may never recover. Still, I could take it. I could take all of it. Because I admit my fault and I recognise my need to be punished. But to leave without kissing me goodbye? That, my love, was unconscionable. A line crossed. A declaration of war. An admittance of lesser character. I am disappointed in you. Thus, I now join your unrelenting form on the S.S. Marital Displeasure. Let’s see how we fare at sea, together. Yours, unwaveringly, Kento— the husband you once swore never to abandon P.S. Dinner is on me tonight. Please let me know what time you’ll be home. P.P.S. You looked radiant this morning. Even in silence. Even in a mood. You’re still the most beautiful thing in the room.

From: [email protected] Subject: Wow. Just Wow

Kento,  You infuriatingly adorable man. All those things you listed about this morning are things you do everyday. I know that was supposed to guilt trip me, but that just annoyed me more cause I get it — you’re totally perfect and handsome and tall and you smell nice. Ugh, you’re the worst. Lunch was yummy, by the way. Ten out of ten. The note, which I didn’t carelessly throw away mind you (that was very rude to assume, how dare you) telling me ‘you are loved even when you’re grumpy’ was not. I am not grumpy, Kento. I am aggrieved.  You have aggrieved me.  Also, don’t try to guilt trip me about the cover hogging. You run hot and you know we have a spare duvet in the closet. Many times now, I've begged you to take it because I know I have bad sleeping habits BUT you refused. You said, need I remind you, that you insist on sharing one to be as close to me as possible. Your words.  The work clothes thing was an accident. I didn’t mean to push it off, and I was trying to stay mad so I made up some lie. Tell your blazer I’m sorry. Tell its owner I will never forgive nor forget. You know what you did.  And I don’t want you to join my ship. We can’t both be on it. We’ll sink…damn that’s metaphorical. For your own good, get off now whilst you still can.  Lukewarm wishes,  Your Wife P.S. I’ll be home later than you, I have some things to finish P.P.S. There was only one other person in the room and that was you, and even then you were clearly the more beautiful one Mr. Wakes Up With A Five O’Clock Shadow And Silky Golden Locks. That pissed me off so much more. Try to be less perfect, thank you.

From: [email protected] Subject: I Miss You

My dearest, I’ve read your message precisely three times and still, I’m not entirely sure whether I’ve been forgiven or sentenced. However, I feel a sense of optimism, foolish or not.  Let me begin with your opening line: ‘infuriatingly adorable’— it is not quite a compliment but I accept it with caution regardless. I am adorable and I understand that you wish I wasn’t. As soon as possible, I will find a cure. Moreover, in reference to my morning route, you’re right, of course. The tasks I listed are things I do every day. Not as some grand gesture, but because loving you — actively, attentively, without pause — is part of my daily routine. Like ironing my shirts or making my coffee. It’s muscle memory now. If I were to stop, I fear I might just malfunction and catch fire. That said, if you are aggrieved — not grumpy, as I so mistakenly suggested, please forgive me for that too — then I humbly bow to your deliverance, Lady Justice. Though I maintain that the distinction is rather blurry when you’re stomping past me with furrowed brows and lips pressed into a line sharp enough to cut marble, lips I dare say I wish I could kiss into their usual form. Regarding the duvet — yes, I recall saying that. I stand by it. Even if I must freeze to death one night beneath your siege of unconscious theft, I would still rather reach out and find you beside me than not. You will indubitably note that that was unnecessarily dark, I’m sure, and you’ll then make a comment about the phase we shall not talk about that I went through in my youth. Further, the blazer has accepted your apology. It insists you take it off me tonight. (Is that too forward? You usually love when I’m forward but I worry this will only enrage you more, likely in a way that will leave me dangerously sore. Perhaps that is what I intend. I cannot tell anymore. I just miss your touch). As for the note, I didn’t assume you threw it away. I merely feared it. I know you well enough to know that even when you’re furious, you’re still gentle with the things I give you. It’s one of those things you do that melt my heart. Lastly, your ship — this solitary vessel of marital vengeance — sounds lonely. It is precisely that reason however that I must stay aboard, respectfully. With all my love, Kento – your infuriatingly tall, overly warm, occasionally smug but entirely yours husband P.S. I’ll have dinner ready by the time you’re home. P.P.S. I will attempt to be less perfect, though I make no promises. I’ve spent years mastering my five o’clock shadow, it practically comes in on its own when it senses you’re at your most vulnerable. As for my silky, golden locks, I owe that to you and your hair mask. Thank you.

From: [email protected] Subject: Tempting

Kento. I’ve read your message. Twice. Once dramatically, on break. Once again, aloud, with emphasis, so the plants in my office could also judge you. And I must say... The audacity. The calm. The poetry. The charm. Ugh. Disgusting. I hate how you win arguments by being emotionally intelligent and devastatingly eloquent. Stop. Also, your blazer is so dramatic. I was always going to take it off you, that was never in question. And yes, I love when you're forward. I loved it just now. Reminds me of that time we snuck off into the janitor's closet and... Moving on. I will admit (reluctantly) that your words were very lovely, they usually are, and the image of you freezing like a noble idiot because you'd rather suffer than part from me for even a life-saving second was both tragic and romantic and exactly the kind of behaviour that makes staying mad at you basically impossible. I hate that for me. But fine. F I N E. You may stay aboard my metaphorical ship, provided you bring snacks and acknowledge that I am the captain and you’re just here for deck-swabbing privileges and forehead kisses. You’ll be handsomely rewarded ;) Love, Your Wife (Still aggrieved. But slightly less so. Like… 69% less.) P.S. If you’re trying to seduce me via dinner, it’s working. You might get that kiss. Or two. Depends how good it is. P.P.S. Don’t think I’d miss the opportunity to mention MCR Kento. Your past will haunt you forever.

From: [email protected] Subject: Please Stop

Dear YN and Nanami Kento,  I hope you are both well.  Do forgive me for intruding but, as Head of HR and as your friend, I feel a need to remind you both that you are liaising using your work emails which are monitored by HR. Resolving marital disputes on company hours and company mail is not recommended nor permitted. Please set this aside for when you get home. I also wish to remind you that your offices are a short distance from each other. There doesn’t seem to be a need to be communicating via emails at all. From my desk, I have been watching you two write your emails with smiles on your faces.  I suspect neither of you are mad at each other at all. So, YN, please just forgive him already. He hasn’t done much work all day, whereas your productivity has somehow increased. We should probably hold a meeting to discuss both changes. I am concerned.  Lastly, your fight is distracting everyone. One colleague described it as ‘funny,’ another ‘sweet,’ and someone else called it ‘foreplay’ — I’m sure you understand why exactly I intervened. You are both already on two strikes. Please don't make me remind you of what exactly what happened the last two times. The company is still paying for therapy sessions for the affected employees. Do better.  Best wishes,  Ijichi Kiyotaka P.S. Why were you even mad? Did he forget an anniversary? Comment on your weight?

From: [email protected] Subject: Kinda Embarrassed. No Longer Mad

Dear Kento, Did not realise the whole office was invested in this. No wonder the intern was giving me a look and Sharon from IT told me that she and her husband also fight like this to ’spice up’ their love life, and that its best when the husband gets mad too. TMI but appreciated. Are you even capable of getting mad at me? Well, anyway, you heard the man. Let’s continue this conversation at home.  And Ijichi, I know you’re reading this, you Peeping Tom. I hope you know we’re going to make sweet, dirty love tonight. All night. Bring this up to the Big Boss, I dare you. I know you haven’t forgotten the huge favour you owe me for beating Gojo up when he needlessly sent you on errands around the city. Please stand up for yourself. Do better, as you say. Kento, let’s go home together tonight. I need to apologise to your blazer as soon as possible and catch up on kisses expeditiously. In fact, expect a knock on your office door.  Love,  Your wife

From: [email protected] Subject: Didn't Notice Ijichi's P.S.

Dear Nanami, and Ijichi because you're reading these, He sat on my bunny plushie yesterday. He flattened her. I'm mad again. Hate, YN P.S. Hair mask rights have been revoked. Buy your own.

From: [email protected] Subject: Thank You, Ijichi

Dear wife and Peeping Tom colleague, You have no appreciation for the work I put in to get back into my wife's good graces. All your disclaimers about simply doing your job were clearly written in deceit since your gossiping self could not resist prying. Do not think I haven't overheard you collecting bets on why she was mad at me in the break room. Please expect Gojo's presence in your office with some new, overbearing task soon. You're welcome. Worst wishes (to Ijichi), Nanami Kento And nothing but love (to my wife), Ken

From: [email protected] Subject: Don't Read This One, Ijichi

Ken, You're so hot when you're all assertive. Wanna get strike three? Preferably in your office, on your desk? Gojo can distract everyone for an hour...or two. Lust, Your Wife

From: [email protected] Subject: Don't Keep Me Waiting

Sweetheart, Door's open.

From: [email protected] Subject: I Am Not A Peeping Tom

I hate you both and you deserve each other. Regrettably, Ijichi Kiyotaka

From: [email protected] Subject: Freakyyyy

Dear Nanami, YN, and my favourite Peeping Tom, This is what happens in the office? Wow, maybe I should get a desk job (lol that's probably what Nanami's getting right now, lucky guy). Can't believe I was slaving away, keeping the world safe, and you two were slacking off and getting it on. I'm expecting a baby Nanami soon. Make me the godfather pls pls pls Stay sexy, The Strongest P.S. Can I watch? P.P.S. I’m kidding P.P.P.S. …Unless?

[tonycries]

Closer - N.K.

Synopsis. By day, Nanami Kento is the perfect husband. Devoted. Loving. A gentle father to your two children. By night, he’s aching to stuff you pregnant with your third. CóckbIocked. Ravenous. Just waiting for the moment he can go…full-on beast mode.

Pairing. Nanami Kento x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem!reader, husband!Nanami, married life, domesticity, Papamin, Yuji and Choso cameos, interruptions, cóckbIocked by your oblivious sons, slight edgíng, 5 +1 things if you squint, FÉRAL Nanami, oraI (fem rec.), face-ríding, manhandIing, spítting, chokíng, fíngering, ROUGH s, cervíx kíssing, all over the house, big Ds, P TALKING, BRÉEDING, mentions of kids, matíng presses, creampíes, cúmpIay, MARATHONS, heavy overstím, CÚMFLATION, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 16.1k

A/N. Based on the manga ‘By Day, a Devoted Husband. By Night, Full-on Beast Mode’ by The Waidan.

T-minus 5 days until the long weekend.

“Reading journal…pencil case…extra cap…” You’re rifling through the essentials stuffed inside your energetic son’s backpack. He was five already, and reaching that age where he just insisted he could do all those ‘big boy’ things by himself. “Hm…I think you have everything-”

“Really? Yippee—” Yuji’s pumping his fist in the air, before he’s immediately tugging the Spiderman-covered bag out of your hands and darting towards the open door. “Okay, momma- myfriendsareheregottogoloveyoubye-”

You watch after the blur of Spiderman and orange t-shirt in a slight daze, “Ah- right. I love you, b-” Before…you just slightly turn your head to the side, and in your peripheral vision you see- “Wait! Yuji, you forgot your-”

A hand on your hip. A strong figure by your side.

“Yuuuji—” A stern yet warm voice echoes, stopping the boy in his tracks in a split-second. “You’ve forgotten your lunch box, sunshine.” And towards the blond-haired man, you turn your head appreciatively.

Nanami Kento.

Your husband.

His overlarge palm cupped the side of your hips, and you’re only glad that Yuji couldn’t see from there the way that Nanami gives you a good squeeze—

“Kento-” With a breathy whisper, you’re swatting at Nanami’s chest. Right in-between his prominent pecs, where Nanami’s usual office shirt was pulled tightly over his broad front, buttoned up like a gift- and even then, you glimpse slivers of his white undershirt peaking out.

Nanami was just so naturally chiselled, in all the years you’ve known him. And you could swear that he’d only grown more built since expanding your family, with more hands-on labor - you guessed there was no better gym than a house with two children.

Slightly leaning up to him, you’re biting back a smile to mutter. “Yuji’s going to see.”

Nanami only softly chuckles, walking out through the front door to meet his son halfway. Dutifully, Yuji turns around so that his father can re-pack that haphazard bag of his, squeezing the (also) Spiderman-patterned lunch box inside. 

The boy pouts, “I pwomise I packed it.”

“Mmm, I believe you.” He replies, with just a slight hint of amusement. And once Nanami was done zipping up Yuji’s backpack, he turns his son around and crouches down to meet him at eye-level. “But, next time, how about we double check, sunshine? Just to make it easier on poor momma?”

Yuji considers it for a second- “Okay!” Before he runs back down the smooth, grey-stoned pathway leading up to your cozy lil’ house. 

Nobara and Megumi were already waiting for him beyond your house gates, and they slightly balked as they watch their friend’s father stand to his full height afterwards. Marvelling at those huge shoulders. His towering height. The way that Nanami Kento was just so large that his hair seemed to form a coiled, golden halo in the morning sunlight. 

It casted shadows on his handsome, handsome features. Accentuating that kind smile of his, just the tiniest dimple at the end of his lips.

You couldn’t blame them - you were ogling him, too.

“You’re huuuuge, Mr. Yuji’s Dad.” Nobara squeaks, once Nanami has accompanied his son safely outside. She casts a tiny hand over her brows to shade it from the sun as she stares.

Nanami smiles shyly, and hastens to grip onto the lil’ handle at the back of Yuji’s backpack - likely to stop him from running into (soon) oncoming traffic, you knew what your son was like. “Why thank you, my dear. But you can just call me ‘uncle’ if you’d like-”

“Is your willy huge, too?” That question was, expectedly, asked by none other than Fushiguro Megumi. And you don’t have to look to know that the surly little boy was likely pointing, too.

Honestly- not even covering your mouth and gnawing down on the insides of your cheek can stop the bark of laughter from leaving you. Pwah! Your eyes crinkle into slits of amusement, and through them you’re catching the helpless look that your husband throws your way. Cornered by a vicious, merciless trio of elementary schoolers.

You’re waving your hand in front of him—a motion to just go on.

You wanted to see what he’d say (or not say). And Nanami just opens his mouth when-

“It is.” When all of a sudden, Yuji’s the one to pipe up with the long-awaited answer. Proudly, he’s turning to his laughing friends with his hands on his hips, “Once I needed to pee real bad when papa was showering, so I just went in and saw it- it’s huuu—”

“Look- look! The bus is coming.” Rapidly, Nanami claps his hand over Yuji’s mouth and diverts all attention towards the hounding yellow school bus that was crawling towards them now. Like an oversized caterpillar, of sorts, with the antenna and painted-on face in front to match.

And Nanami Kento was never a fan of these decorated school buses. Never a fan of those soulless blue eyes that a bus should honestly never have.

But right now it felt like the pearly gates of heaven had just opened.

He was bathed in warm relief, ushering the still-giggling trio inside the opening doors of the bus. With a kiss on his cheek goodbye, soon enough you and Nanami were waving off Yuji as he was ferried off to school. 

Leaving behind only his gap-toothed grin, the clouded fumes of the bus, and you sighing- “Well, it’s certainly a loud morning.” You’re turning to Nanami, who was still slightly pale from the- ahem…discussion before. “You know, he’s already insisting on making his own school lunch? I just barely managed to keep it contained to packing only his school bag.”

Nanami snorts, “What- and survive on a pack of goldfish all day?”

“And the bugs from the playground, I don’t know why he keeps picking at those.”

Your husband throws an arm around your waist as you walk back to the house together. And his strong, heavy forearm almost seems reluctant to leave your body so that he can continue tying his work tie. 

From where it was left off earlier- “Strange child he is.” He loops it ‘round that collar of his, and your eyes watch the bob of Nanami’s throat - so unintentionally attractive. “Can you believe that he’s five already? And Choso’s about to start middle school, they’re growing up too fast.”

“They certainly are.” You hum, handing over Nanami’s neat briefcase once he’s done. “I almost miss when they were just so tiny, and I could pick them both up at once- oh, but I do love them as is.”

He huffs out lovingly, that dimple making an appearance once more. “I know what you mean perfectly, my love.”

It’s a comfortable affair retracing your steps back to the front door, like you had with Yuji earlier. Though much slower, much more…lingering. You’re hanging by the frame of the door as he steps out, and just before he was about to say his goodbyes—“You know- I wouldn’t mind doing it all over again.” Nanami damn near snaps his head turning back to face you, looking you dead-on in the eyes. “The children.”

Two fatal blows.

Nanami’s eyes widen. Nanami’s mouth drops, drier than the Sahara right now. A thin line of perspiration glides down his face. And you watch his body almost step all the way back inside the house. Nanami’s fingers tremble on his briefcase, and you watch it slightly slip- 

Before he’s managing to stop himself. 

Shaking his head, the blond-haired man retracts his step and clears his throat. “Is that-” Faltering, he has to do so again. “I mean- ahem, is that so, my darling? You wish to have another ch-child?”

Slightly bemused, you only nod.

But of course, Nanami is paying laser-focused attention to each of your words, your signals. And you can see the bump of his Adam’s apple gulp—as he takes in just what you were implying. Tightening his formal silk tie ‘round his throat, “Then I believe, ah…I believe we should perhaps discuss this a little more. For both our own goods. I’ll be back a little early tonight, and we’ll talk through the um- details, is that alright?”

“Sounds good to me—” You hum, not oblivious to the man’s shattering composure inside. Nanami Kento hid it well - always so stoic, always so sensible, always so respected in his work place. On more than one occasion, you’d gotten comments from tittering women that they only wished they could have a husband that held it together even half as much.

But as his wife you knew it all.

And you knew when there was a chance that this stoic, sensible, stern Nanami Kento was about to…break.

So without a single second of hesitation, your dominant hand reaches out to grab him by the tie- simultaneously straightening it at the middle of his chest and dragging Nanami’s head down to meet yours in a soft, soft kiss. Just the slow slide of your lips. Sensual. “I’ll see you then, Kento.” Murmuring against his lips, you pull away with a smile. “Can’t miss the daily kiss. Have a great day at work~!”

A smile that utterly kills him.

Your husband walks slightly stiffly all the way to the car. And with a final wave, he’s speeding off down the street as if getting to work sooner might just make the day end sooner, as well.

With a slight giggle, you head back inside.

.

.

.

T-minus 4 days until the long weekend.

Unfortunately, that ‘discussion’ had to wait until the day after, because Nanami’s workplace had been overdue on a few proposals (inconveniently misplaced by the new intern, and conveniently handed to your husband). And he’d ended up driving back home past 12AM, after you’d already put both the kids down to bed. 

With you so tired after a long day of taking care of the house and waiting up for him, how could he possibly even think of infringing on your precious hours any longer?

So all Nanami had done was clean himself up hastily, and carry you back to your shared bedroom where you’d been drowsing on the living room couch. Cuddling you to sleep. Promising that you’d talk about it the day after.

You understood, of course.

You and Nanami had been together for about twelve years, after all (if you wanted to know the exact date, down to the number of hours and minutes, you could ask him and he’d certainly remember). From lovers to a married couple, to being blessed enough to adopt Yuji and Choso when they were young.

Despite two bustling boys, you had to admit that yours and Nanami’s sex life hadn’t exactly died down.

Just a sneaky quickie before anyone woke up…perhaps getting handsy underneath the covers after a long day….And with Yuji now old enough to share a room with his older brother (they’d been begging for bunk beds for too long), you could finally start having sex at home again.

Perfect.

Right?

Except, well, it wasn’t exactly the same as it once was—

“N-ngh, fuck…” Your jaw drops open with a sloppy moan, saliva cascading out of you with a splosh! just as soon as Nanami’s stuffing you all the way to his hilt.

Here was the result of your ‘discussion’ tonight - if you could even call it that.

The trimmed golden hairs decoratin’ his base carnally scratch your clit, and you’re lewdly grinding yourself backwards. Every tiny movement leaves him stirring up your insides oh-so-perfectly, and your body wracks with shivers. “Please- please, Kento. S-start moving…”

“So needy.” Nanami’s crinkling his straight nosebridge as he stares you down, with your spine curved perfectly back into him. Those plump lips of his kiss a line down your back—long tongue coming out to taste your skin. “Missed you s’much. Fuck, you don’t know how much I missed you-”

And with that, he gives a heaving thrust that makes you gasp and grab at the rickety headboard. You could feel the plumpness of Nanami’s tip throb-throb-throbbing at your throat- “Missed you, too. Been wantin’ for you to- ngh, fuck me so bad, baby.”

“N’ that’s exactly what I’m about to do.” He’s smugly crooning out, the curvature of his shaft just lightly puckering up at your sweetest spots - Nanami had you mapped out exactly. 

Hard and fast.

Moving in slight bucks and grinds.

Smearing his reddened, swollen tip against your tender insides.

“Exactly about to fuh-fuck you until that pussy’s all satisfied.” The toned lines of Nanami’s hips rut into you like such an animal- and his meaty thighs push you further and further up the springy mattress. “To fill you up.” Leaving you whining wildly at his spears. “To pound a ba- mm.” Leaving you limp under his touch, leaving him reaching his hands over and cupping your tits so that he can manhandle you upright and at his mercy when-

KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK—!

“Momma? Papa?”

And that was exactly why it wasn’t the same as before.

You freeze instantly.

Tiny sniffles ring out from the other side of the door, and the locked door handle jingles to no avail. Yuji’s small, scared voice pipes up, “Momma, I frew up…”

You look at Nanami, and Nanami looks at you.

“Shit.”

“Shit-” 

He’s easing out of you with the loudest, messiest sluuuuurp—! Multiple ribbons of slick n’ precum combine to form a sheen that glues the insides of your thighs together, and you’re shivering at the feeling of his wide girth pulling out.

Letting off a slight noise of discontent as your walls clench emptily, cunt throbbing angrily for him to fuck you again. Your hips buck in primal instinct as you watch Nanami tuck himself back into his pants and put on his large shirt, though you have to hold yourself back - you were missing him already.

“Shhhh, shhh.” Nanami’s clammy palm rests down on your sticky thigh, and he’s carressin’ the skin there back and forth to soothe you. It works…somewhat. 

And you’re making to move off of the bed, “I’ll get-”

“No, let me.” Firmly, he’s pinning you back down just with that singular, clammy palm plastered to your thigh. Just that show of his strength is enough to make your glistening hole throb once more- and you’re forced to bite down on your lower lip to stop yourself from making a noise. 

He lovingly taps your leg, and lets the bedframe creak in agony after him (you felt much the same). Nanami hums, “I’ll take care of it. You just get some rest, my darling. You did so well.”

You’re burying yourself underneath the soft covers as the spike of light from the hallway enters the room. Nanami - fully softened now, fully shook of the shreds of carnal desire within him - opens the doorway to crouch in front of his teary son. “Let’s get you cleaned up and I’ll read you a bedtime story, how about that, sunshine?”

The pink-haired boy nods, “Mhm!”

By the time he got back, you were peacefully slumbering away. 

Nanami Kento only fixed the straps of that cute nightgown you were donning once more, snuggling up to you underneath the covers with the half-asleep promise of a proper (proper, this time) discussion tomorrow.

.

.

.

T-minus 3 days until the long weekend.

Nanami Kento was hungry.

Famished.

Absolutely ravenous.

He’d made it only two steps after getting home early from work. Inside your sweet-smelling kitchen, the scent of vanilla and summer heat in the air- before your strong husband was sprawling you out across the marble counters and lavishing his long tongue down the side of your cheek.

Swirlin’ tastebuds licking away the smudges of cream on your skin, “Mmm—” Nanami’s groaning against the side of your face, his scorching breath simmering against your flesh. “Something smells…” His fingers slipping down between your trembly legs- “-sweet, darlin’.”

And before you know it - fuck, before you can even think of it - you’re gnawing down on the edge of his plush deltoid. 

Your moans cracking at the back of your throat as he’s slipping his way inside, the deliciously curved tip of his cock stuffs against the roof of your cunt. Burrowing out a bruise there that makes your eyes roll to the back of your skull, “Shit- I swear you become bigger- ngh, every time.”

“Mmm, that’s because this pretty pussy’s been missing me too much.” He breathily chuckles, a slight hitch in his breath as your sloppy walls clench. “Probably harder for her to take me every time.”

“No no, I swear—” With a whine, you’re arching your back in a signal for him to rover past your folds even deeper. Teeth setting on edge once one of Nanami’s thick veins grope into your slobbery insides, stretchin’ out your cunt to his sheer size.

He was being so gentle. He was being so loving. He was absolutely ruining your pussy on his half-thrusts- just trying to fit inside.

Probe after probe, the slippery line of his slit leaves your mouth watering. The perfect crevice that renders you babbling away stupidly, “I swear you get even bigger whenever we- hck! talk about—ngh.”

“Yeeees?” There was something wild in your husband’s eyes, boring down at you through his clammy blond strands. It was just so fuckin’ cute the way that you lost your train of thought anytime Nanami’s length went mazing inwards- “Whenever we talk about what, my love? Haaaah, finish your sentences.”

As he tuts you’re gasping—and he knows exactly what you’re alluding to. “Whenever we t-talk about-”

“Mhm—?”

Drooling mouth snapping open, he’s bottoming out. “Ba-” Directly hitting your cervix with the crowned, globular end of his shaft. So, so reddened with need. “Bab-”

“Momma—? Papa—?” A voice calls out, young and painfully oblivious to what was obscured in the kitchen. In the distance, you could hear the slamming of the front door. 

A bag being set down on the table.

Footsteps.

Choso’s voice echoes out once more when he doesn’t receive an answer, unused to not having his parents respond to him immediately. You could hear the slight pout in his voice even from here- “Can one of you help me with my homework—?” 

Mercifully, Choso doesn’t enter the kitchen - instead, keeping himself confined to the television room where he was starting to set out his school books. Choso doesn’t take a peak at where you’d urgently disjointed yourself from Nanami, smoothing down your upturned skirt and taking a look at the clock-

“Oh my goodness, I forgot his art classes were cancelled today- it’s time already.” You gasp, reading the ticking face of the clock that knew what you two just did.

Apologetically, you’re whipping your face around to face Nanami - who was back to tucking his softened length inside in a way that reminded you of just last night. Despite the slight furrow between his blond brows, Nanami shakes his head understandingly. “S’just time.” He grunts, zipping his pants back up and wiping away the droplets of sweat on his forehead. Your husband kisses your temple, “We’ll find some other time, my love?”

“Mhm.” Heart fluttering at the soft peck, you watch as his hulking frame walks out of the kitchen to help Choso with his homework. “We will…”

Though, a part of you doubted you might.

But you hoped.

.

.

.

T-minus 2 days until the long weekend.

“Fuck…” Nanami’s peering down at you through partially-cracked lids, and from down here it looked as if his molten peripherals were almost made of fire. 

Burning straight at you underneath his professional work desk. Trying for al his will not to flutter them shut at the feeling of your lavish tongue gliding down his cock—“Fuck, my love- that mouth of yours is absolute sin.”

He’d been wading through some important work documents before you’d ambushed him in his office. Before you’d simply dropped to your knees and fumbled with his shorts like you were a woman starved.

Lappin’ all over his thick, throbbing like the shiniest of lollipops.

Lick after lick.

Your saliva-glazed muscle flattens over the top of his cock for a few seconds. “Mmm—” You’re vibratin’ out your moans against his length, and it sends sparks travelling all the way down from the line underneath Nanami’s plum-colored tip. Where your husband’s shaft was just dribbling out hot wires of pre down to your tastebuds, puddlin’ all over. “Tastes sho, mmm, nice-”

“Oh- fuck!” His head falls back against the back of his chair, and you catch the way that Nanami’s Adam’s apple bobs at the feeling of your greedy tongue.

Just that sensual ridged texture- fuck, it was all that he could think about. A carnal scratch. The way you were flopping it right out into his most sensitive spots, drag-drag-draaaagging it along his elongated length. 

Nanami’s right hand comes down to grip his base, and you’re whining as he lifts his shaft off of your open tongue. With a chuckle, he’s placing his cock side-by-side with your face- and your cunt throbs at the fact that his nine, massive inches looked incredible up so closely.

So sensually rubbin’ his girthy hilt up and down the corner of your mouth. Just teasing.

Up and down. Up and down. Up and down—

“Shouldn’t be saying these dirty things with such a s-sweet mouth, y’know?” Nanami tuts, merely lining the edge of your lips with a gloss of your pre. He was so hot and syrupy—practically melting against where your tongue was darting out to try n’ taste him even more. “Should control yourself- what if- fuck.”

“Mmm—” Moaning, you’re managing to press his rotund tip against the middle of your tongue once more, starting to suck.

“What if you say those things and- oh, you’re too loud, hm?” He prattles away still, mouth working overtime whilst you stuffed yours. And yet…and yet even disciplined Nanami Kento couldn’t stop himself from bucking off of his cushiony chair, “What if- haaaah, if you’re too loud and the boys hear-”

“Momma—! Papa—!”

KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK—!

Nanami groans, “-us.”

Ah, well…you’re removing yourself from Nanami’s still-twitching cock. Red-hot. Rock-hard. 

He was so needy that just wrenching yourself off with a wettened plop! makes Nanami’s hips chase the soft insides of your mouth, a translucent wad of precum spraying out of him instantly.

And as he looks down at you with a dismal face, you’re managing out a smile. “I’ll go see what it is.” And Nanami Kento thinks that he might as well pass out before any ‘next time’- because you’re pressing a chaste peck to his mushroom tip, and pulling his shorts up. “Next time, Kento.”

Nanami puts his face in his hands and lightly groans.

With a huffed giggle, you’re sauntering your way out of the office - knowing damn well just how intensely his eyes were locked on the sway of your hips. The way your thighs were more clenched than before.

“Alright-” Unlocking the firmly-shut door (thank goodness for Nanami’s foresight), you’re met with the tear-stained face of your oldest son. Snot-faced and bawling. 

Your brows raise right up to your hairline as you take in the vision of your usually-calm Choso, turning your sights to his (only slightly tear-stained) younger brother beside him. Yuji, who hurries to explain what his brother couldn’t- “I wanted bubba’s comics but bubba wanted bubba’s comics, so then we got into a- um, ah…” Slightly squirming underneath your stare, your boys knew you hated when they fought. “-scuffle, and then I got bruised.”

He raises a chubby hand up, and you can easily spot the faint blue-ish mark on his forearm.

Yuji looks at Choso, “But bubba’s the one crying.”

And that was being generous, Choso was all but choking on his sobs. Taking one look at the bruise you were appraising - the place where he’d either directly or indirectly hurt his little brother - and bursting into peels of cries all over again. “I’m so- so- sor- wahhhh—”

“Aaaaalrighty then-” You hasten to pick up your oldest boy, with slight exertion due to his size. Though when you finally do succeed in hoisting him onto your hip, he wraps his arms around your neck and buries his wet face into it. “Now, how about we go downstairs and make ourselves a cup of hot chocolate, hm?” It seems to calm Choso down a bit. “Maybe we can even watch a movie- a movie night?”

“Yippeeee—” Yuji squeals, arms raised as if he wanted to be carried, too. “Me as well?”

“All of us.” Comes a deep voice, and Nanami’s finally making his way out of the office. Having calmed himself down, he carries his younger son and places an innocent peck on your temple.

Choso gags, “Bleh!” Whilst Yuji only giggles - and despite the slight embarrassment coursing through your body at your husband’s obvious loving gesture, you were glad to have Choso express anything other than sadness.

You’re starting to walk as a family, “Now, who’s up for some Kpop Demon Hunters?”

“Meeeee–!”

.

.

.

T-minus 1 day until the long weekend.

“Fuck-”

“Kento-”

“Fuck, just a bit-” He’s hotly whispering into your shoulder, blond strands tickling your skin once Nanami’s jerking his hips back and rutting them into yours. You could feel his thick, throbbing erection against the globes of your ass cheeks - so hard by now that you could count every throb.

Ba-dump.

Ba-dump.

Ba-dump-

And with every furious pulsation, he’s jerking his pelvis forwards- almost thrusting. Dry humping you like an animal in heat. “Just- just a little bit.” So rough that the sheer force leaves you bending even deeper against the dining table, and Nanami has to loop his greedy hands underneath your body n’ jerk you backwards. Push. Pull. “Just want to feel you a little bit- haaah- my love.”

“You’re being so- oh.” Even though you both still had your clothes on, Nanami’s pryin’ aside those flimsy panties of yours to let his bulge smear against your naked cunt. “-so insatiable, Kento.”

And with a few more vulgar strokes, he’s finally answering. “Couldn’t stop thinking of you all day- no, all week, darlin’. I’ve been running into that damned office bathroom to fuck my fist like some- ngh, fuckin’ teenager all week now.” 

“Oh, Ken—” With a mewl, you’re grinding your hips backwards- but the friction just wasn’t enough.

Just wasn’t the feeling of his incredible cock splitting apart your insides, and the way that you knew he could fill out your every orifice so perfectly leaves you wanting more, more, more. So without thinking much - without thinking at all, really - you’re whipping your body back around.

Nanami grunts at the loss of contact with your drippin’ wet core- only for a brief moment before he realizes what you’re really trying to do. And the blond-haired man eagerly leans his hips forwards when you start to fuss with the buttons n’ zippers on his trousers.

“Shit-” Impatient, you thrust your hand directly down his pants, and Nanami throws his head back with a sultry shiver at the feeling of your ravenous palm. 

Accurately cupping his swollen erection, you feel him splurge out a slimy wad of pre at the mere touch. Just so sensitive. “We’re gonna hafta to be quick.” You’re murmuring, back to fiddling with his buttons. Pop! Pop! “Before they come back-”

SLAM!

“Momma, what’s for dinner?”

Pop!

The last of Nanami’s buttons are torn open- right before they’re forced back shut at the sound of your sons entering the home. It’s a team effort by the both of you, and you’re just barely putting your rumpled clothes back in place, making sure anything was covered, ready to act like everything was normal before-

“Oh, shit.” Your eyes drop back down to the place between your husband’s legs. 

His erection had softened by now, and there was absolutely nothing out of the ordinary…except for the massive stain of syrupy slick that’d been left by your grinding, gyrating cunt. It darkens the beige fabric of Nanami’s trousers like a puddle, glistening in the yellowish yolky lighting of the kitchen. Your hands are on him immediately - though, not like earlier. “Shit, Kento, you’re going to have to go-”

“Go?” Nanami balks, but he doesn’t resist when you start pushing him out of the second entrance to the kitchen. “Go where?”

The house you’d chosen for your family was one of those large, more open plans; and the kitchen itself had one entrance for those who accessed the house by normal means, and then one more entrance that opened up to the bottom of the house’s staircase. Ones that you lead him up the first few steps of, “Go change those pants!” You squawk. “I tell them that you’re- I don’t know, showering, or something!”

“Good thinking, my love.” He chuckles, clearly finding amusement in your panicked charge. With his palms raised in surrender, he’s making his way up- though, not before landing a peck on your forehead once more.

“Now!”

“Aye aye, my madam.”

Nanami (and his stained trousers) just barely makes it out of the kitchen before the boys walk into the kitchen, mud-stained and slightly out of breath still.

“Cho!” You’re admonishing before they’re able to take their seats, “How many times have I told you not to put your skateboard on the dining table? We eat there.”

“Yes, momma.” The dark-haired boy recites, listening to what you were saying and placing it on the floor. As he kicks it out of the kitchen, he turns to you and asks- “Where’s papa?”

Turning your back to your sons, you’re fussing over the dishes set on the kitchen counter now - what you were doing before you’d been…interrupted, that is. “Papa wanted to take a shower, it was getting a bit ah- hot in here.”

“This time of year?” Choso raises a brow, but doesn’t question it any further.

“Anyways-” You hasten to change the subject, “-why are you boys in so early today? Papa and I had just barely gotten started on dinner.”

And at this, Yuji jumps up in his seat- eyes sparkling as he slams his hands down on the table. “Oh, momma, you’ll never believe it. So Nobara said she had to go to some dentwist’s appointment and Megumi was feeling sick- so I went with bubba’s friends but then we decided to do some exploring- and then there was also this ice cream truck that—”

And so it went on. By the time that Yuji was done with his (condensed for your enjoyment, according to him) version of events, Nanami was back downstairs in a new pair of unstained trousers. The two of you quickly wrapped up dinner preparation, and used the boys’ help to set out the food.

In less than an hour or so, you were all seated around the rectangular table.

Nanami beside you, and your sons in front of you.

“So-” And, to your surprise, he’s the one starting off the conversation. Dinner always was quite a lively event with the four of you, with either you or Yuji being the ones that dominated the nightly discussions most days.

But to have Nanami be the one to start off? It must be something quite important…

So you all turned towards him, excited to see what he had to say.

He gulps down a bite of rice, and continues. “Remember that starting tomorrow there’s a long weekend, my loves. Monday is a holiday.” Nanami addresses all of you, in that soft tone that always makes you melt. Yuji cheers at the mention of such a thing- “It’s rare that we get a treat like this to be together, and I wanted to know what you all wanted to do on those days?”

“I’m fine with anything.” You hum, turning to Yuji and Choso.

“Something fun.” Choso stares off into space ponderously, “Maybe like to the park? Or a resort?”

You nod, “Fancy, I like it. And what about you Yuji?” 

And, dear little Yuji - who’d been so patiently waiting for his turn to speak, who oh-so-sweetly hadn’t wanted to speak over anyone else - simply just burst. “Joypolis!” He stands up on his seat, and you don’t even have the heart to tell him to sit back down properly. Chanting, “Joypolis! Joypolis! I want to go to Joypolis—”

Choso’s eyes light as well, excitedly- “Oh- oh, can we?” Turning to face the two of you with pleading eyes.

And, of course, you’re turning to exchange a look with Nanami.

“Of course!”

You’re humming thoughtfully, “And since it’s for a few days, I’d heard of this really nice resort nearby that I think would be a nice place to stay at? We could make it a long stay for Saturday and Sunday, and come back on Monday morning.”

Expectedly, Yuji bursts into even more cheers.

“It’s settled then-” Nanami speaks over the cacophony of voices- and what was clearly not settled were the two boys, who were having trouble listening to your calls to not jerk the table lest they wanted to splash over the food. “Kids, listen to your momma.” Until, finally, some semblance of silence broke through—“We’re going to Joypolis.”

“Yippeeeee—!”

“Hell yeah-”

“Cho, language…”

Nanami chuckles, about to say something more about the plans for the weekend when- 

BZZZZZZZZZZZ—!

In your peripheral, you see Nanami reach into his pocket and pull out his phone. Clearly, you imagine, it must be something important for him to forgo (his own) rule about no devices during dinner time. And you’re watching on in slight curiosity-

“Oh.” Nanami’s mouth slightly parts, a somewhat surprised expression dazzling his face. The longer the phone call goes on, the more dazzled he grows. “Oh?”

By then, even Choso and Yuji had quietened down. And you’re tugging on his elbow in slight concern, “Something the matter, Kento?”

He’s shaking his head, attention still on the call. “Oh?” Perhaps unable to communicate anything more eloquent, whoever was on the other end of the line seemed to have said something that made one of his blond brows raise. And for his tongue to finally work, “Have the kids stay overnight?”

.

.

.

T-minus 0 days until the long weekend.

In other words: 9 hours and 17 minutes into the long weekend.

Also in other words: 9:17AM, Saturday.

According to what you, Yuji, and Choso had derived from your instant interrogation after Nanami had set down the phone- it seems that your mother-in-law had won a raffle just that day. The prize? Tickets to a two-night trip to the hot springs of Oita. 

Three of them - and she claimed that she didn’t want to spend the holiday with her friends who couldn’t move as well as they were once able to. Might as well give the kids the time of their life, huh? There was much to see in Oita, and they were practically bouncing out of their seats once Nanami had announced the change in plans - neither had been upset about the postponement of Joypolis, either!

With their sheer excitement, the two of you had trouble setting them down for bed. And they’d been jumping on yours like a trampoline before the clock had even hit five-

“After all—” Nanami’s mother had crooned, her eyes wrinkling prettily at the ends as she smiled - Nanami had her eyes, and her smile. The very same dimple at the end of her lips, “-it’s a lot of work taking care of kids, isn’t it? Oh, I was blessed to have one as sensible as Kento, but even then…”

“Certainly is.” You’re chuckling, setting the boys’ luggage down inside her house - one lil’ Spiderman suitcase, and another that was just pitch-black in color (it’d been a long night sorting and packing).

She’s nodding her greying-blonde head, “It’s important that the two of you spend some time together, too. Can’t forget that you’re lovers, as well as parents.” Looking towards your husband, who was firmly giving Choso instructions on how to keep him and his brother safe throughout all times of the trip. 

You can feel your veins bubble up, and hope that the sinful evidence of these past few days don’t show up in your expression. “Th-that’s true, it’s quite important to have time for each other.”

“Besides- I’m sure the children don’t mind spending some time with their grandma, hm?” As Nanami finishes off his lecture, your two sons run towards their grandma and hug her tight- agreeing in tandem. 

“I can’t wait for the hot springs! Bubba says he’s going to teach me cool new swim tricks, grandma-”

“That are within papa’s safety guidelines.” Choso gulps, feeling his father’s burning stare already. “And all end up with the both of us, as well as grandma, coming home to mama and papa safe and sound and perfectly alright. With no limbs missing and also no ugly souvenirs- only pretty ones, because momma deserves only the prettiest ones.” He recites, beaming back at Nanami’s bemused expression. 

Your husband stands next to you and shrugs at your deadpan gaze. 

With delighted laughter, Nanami’s mother looks up at the two of you. There was a somewhat knowing look in her eye- “You two don’t mind, do you?”

You glance at Nanami.

Nanami glances back.

You know you’re both thinking the same thing.

In unison—

“I-if you insist!”

.

.

.

10:08AM, Saturday.

A tender goodbye.

A hasty drive home.

A slam! of a door that you’re only later recognizing as your home door.

You could barely even remember anything before you’re suddenly back inside your home and turning to Nanami with a meaningful, “Kent-”

His lips are on you instantly.

Teeth clawing.

Moaning.

Ravenous.

“Fuck- shit, you’re so—” You’re languidly gliding your hands down Nanami’s front, feeling the way his ripped muscles ripple n’ flex through his thin shirt.

And Nanami’s panting so hard that every scorching breath simmers against your face, and as you speak- your husband’s gripping you easily by the back of the throat to re-slot your mouth over his. Unable to even speak past his crashing, open-mouthed kisses. 

You’re whining as you tug down on his cold belt buckle, “Kento- mmpf, I want- fuck.”

And before you know it, you’re being pushed against the closest flat surface that Nanami Kento can find. You’re being shoved against the wall. You’re being pinned by the strength in his hips- grinding the raging hot erection already between his legs.

“Hngh, fuck.” You’re hearing him snarl in a ragged tone behind you, kissing your neck, your shoulder, down the length of your spine. “Fuck- fuck- fuck- fuck.” Each one was faster than the last, smooch after smooch after smooch, and there’s a dull thud! ringing out across the empty house when Nanami’s knees finally hit the floor.

“Oh my-” Shivering once his roughened fingertips latch onto your easy skirt n’ flips it upwards. You’re left practically bare, with only your flimsy cotton panties on as he holds up your skirt and shoves his handsome face nose-deep between your folds.

From behind.

Letting the straight edge of his nose bridge plap against your cunt, your jaw drops once you feel your husband filthily breeeeeeathe in—“Fuh-fuck, darling.”

Your knees feel weak already, “Kento, are we really just going to do this over here-”

“No.” Comes Nanami’s guttural mutter and oh…by the husky need in that tone, you already know that he’s far from sane. Already gone. “No, not at all.”

“Really?” Brows slightly raising, you almost want to look back- when another one of Nanami’s hands reach over and flip your restless body around. It doesn’t take him much to manhandle you with his incredible strength. 

Your back against the wall. Your glistening cunt facing his mouth.

You’re still standing up. But one of your legs is being picked up and thrown over his broad shoulders, now you’re being held up with partially his support - mostly his support, you imagine.

And it’s with this position that he can take a goooood, long look at your pussy. Your puffy folds spreadin’ open. Your hole clenching around nothing. She was just so dripping wet with your honeyed sap, streaming right down your thighs—“No- don’t you worry, darling.” He mutters, and you wonder just who he’s talking to - you or your pussy, right now.

“Don’t worry, because…?” You’re babbling out.”

“Because-” Nanami’s gusting out with his hot, sticky breath clinging to your cunt. And he’s leaning in closer, closer, so much closer. Until the curve of his attractive chin edges towards the end of your cunt, “-because m’gonna take you here.”

And then your body flinches with a shock of pleasure as he leans his plump lips in and presses a firm peck to the front of your pussylips.

Sloppy and wet.

“And on the dining room table-” Mwah! “And in my office-” Mwah! “The kitchen-” Mwah! “And the- fuck, the bedroom-” He’s snarling, dimpled lips curling as he sniffs your sweet folds once more. “-gonna take you all over the fuckin’ house-”

All those promises - he can’t even finish them before your husband, Nanami, has his face stuffed between your pretty legs and his tongue lapping your cunt like a madman.

Darting to every slippery nook and crevice that his tastebuds can reach- first he’s sliding up n’ down your folds, lapping up the ounces of slick that spray out of you. “Mmmm—” His head throws backwards- or, at least, it tries to. Before that dark, carnal part of Nanami’s own self manages to stop himself, and his quavering hand guides one of yours to grab onto his blond scalp.

“Roughly.” Nanami gasps between your wet pussylips, his drool drenching it in a whole new layer of gluey liquid for him to taste. 

Your mouth gapes, “You want it…”

The veins on his large hands pop out as he tightens your fist on his hair, “Roughly.”

Finally letting go of your smaller hands, Nanami’s then holding onto both sides of your waist- practically glued. Pushing and pinning you back down against the cold wall when his tongue slithers out.

So loooooong and lucious, he’s tingling your tastebuds over your swollen clit. “Mmm- mmpf-” Gurgling, gulping, swallowing the cloying wads of syrup that dripped to the back of his throat and alllll over the lower half of his face.

He’s grunting, “So sweet so- fucking- fuck- sweet.” You could feel your husband’s wet lips flapping away at your nub, before they’re finally parting and plunging between your pussylips like he was possessed. “Never gonna get used to this. This pussy- she’s the- hah, sweetest thing I’ve ever fuckin’ tasted- and I think I might just be addicted-”

“Shit- ngh.” You’re clawing at his sweaty scalp for dear life, because Nanami Kento was usually such a gentle lover. Usually so smooth. So slow. But now…“Oh my god- I don’t even want to ask what’s gotten into you today- fuck.”

It takes him a few vulgar strikes with his tongue to even think of responding- to even formulate a coherent enough answer.

And it’s only with a sloppy mwah! that he’s bringing himself to part with your dewy cunt, just the most lecherous damp noise ringing out in the air. When Nanami speaks out, it’s with his ribbons of saliva departing into your quivering hole. “Can you fucking blame me?”

Oh. Your eyes widen, “You- you really are-” Fuck, but his sloppy tastebuds are back to drilling into your entrance. His scratchy tastebuds plaster against the roof of your cunt, back n’ forth. “You really are pussydrunk? But the thing is- already?”

It’s easier for Nanami to detach himself from your damp pussy- with his two thumbs swervin’ down, he’s smearing apart your folds and spitting straight inside your hole once more. “Can- you- fucking- blame- me-”

It wasn’t even a question, and his lengthy tongue probes between your folds after each word. Slipping straight into your deepest depths, with the curvaceous tip of his muscle sticking in, in, in.

Again and again.

Preeeeeeessing into every depth, “Can you fucking imagine what I’ve been going through these- hah, these past days without you?”

“N-no?” His carnal strokes make you throw your head back with a whine, tears starting to bead behind your eyelids. “What have you been- fuck, you’re going in so deep, Kento.”

Though Nanami doesn’t even seem to hear you- “How can you blame me-” Like a mantra, he’s muttering between those swollen pussylips of yours, eating you out so raw that even the slightest movements of his lips make you see stars. “How can you blame me- hah, how can you blame me, how can you blame me—ngh.” The flatness of his sizzlin’ tastebuds moves back and forth into the roof of your cunt, making itself well at home there. “Not when I haven’t had dessert for a week now-”

“Haven’t had dessert?” You’re questioning, your senses slightly hazed by his ministrations between your legs. Is that what he’s been talking about going through? “What do you mean, baby, just last night for dinner we had-”

“No.” He says, meaningfully. And Nanami looks up at you straight in the eyes when he’s spreadin’ that wet muscle of his wiiiide open and probin’ into your hole- “I mean…dessert.”

Your back arches off of the wall, a perfect curvature. “Dessert-”

Your pussy. 

Your mewling whines are cut off by the feeling of him pulling out of your cunt with a wet plunge, strings of your slick following his movements n’ still connecting his mouth to your core. There was something crazed in Nanami’s hazy peripherals, something utterly gone. “Yes.” He spits for the nth time into your cunt, swervin’ right past your folds. Pinning you down whilst you try to run, “Don’t you fucking run- don’t you fucking know that she’s my favorite dessert, darlin’?”

And then you sob. With a loud, primal sluuuuurp—Nanami’s splittin’ you apart from the inside.

“And I’ve been without her for too long, my wife.” Perfectly molding your channel to him, the cushy tips of his fingers open your entrance up- and oh, he’s digging them deeeeply into your tiniest orifices. Scissoring in a second finger as if it already wasn’t enough to have his thick joints pushing your insides apart. “How can a husband be expected to go so long without his wife’s pretty pussy?” Gently nibblin’ on your clit, “I’ve missed her.”

“I’ve missed this mouth of yours.” You don’t think you’ll ever get used to just how big his size was, the blustering crowns of his two fingerpads opening up your insides. He filled up every cranny- “Fuck, keep going.”

“You have no idea how- hahhh—” Nanami emits a breathy laugh, like he was in utter disbelief at his own self. And you watch as your husband’s jaw hangs open to collect the glittery wads of slick that constantly leak out of you, “-how fucking thirsty I’ve been. I would eat the sweetest sundaes after work- remember the ones I bought for us? Fuck, just imagining that was you.”

You’re shivering at his admission- he’d what?

But Nanami wasn’t done yet - in fact, he was only lapping away his tongue even harder. And when you get used to the caress of his velvety underside, he’s spanking it down on your clit. “Just wishing that was you on my tongue- but nothing would even come as close.” He gasps, “So now that I have you, oh, I could drink from this pretty pussy for aaaaages with how parched I am.”

You’re tugging at his hair, and Nanami only directs you to pull at him even rougher. To use him. Teasing, “And here I thought that large water tumbler of yours was enough-”

“Oh, my love, it’s not even close to enough- look at this-” You’re being guided to look down at the ropes of sap that he was tunneling out of you- chin hitting your chest. After each movement of his fingers, your slick glazes his wrist in splats. 

Sensually, he’s ducking his head down to lick off the polish on his skin. Gleaming like glitter, Nanami moans when the candied taste hits his tongue- “You’re like a fucking waterpark f’me. And I’ve- hah, I’ve been dreaming about her for ages now. Been hungry. Been imagining-”

Lapping and probin’. A third crowned tip rovers inside and starts pushing in and out with the others, “Yes- yes yes yes yes-”

“I’ve had to run to the fucking- ngh, office bathroom more times than I can count.” He admits, spittling between your lips. “All because I spent a whole meeting imagining just how wet you’d feel on my tongue, mmm, like this.” 

You’re crying out, bucking your hips into his- and though he might’ve usually pinned your squirming hips down for moving, teasing, now…now Nanami was welcoming those half-ruts. “More- deeper-”

“And look how eeeeeasy I can slip in-” With a final cobweb of saliva, he’s trying to pry inside a fourth finger—managing. 

Nanami’s prolonged length empties out right near your cervix with harsh thuds, you could tell that he was searching for that sweet spot inside you. 

Babbling away, Nanami seemed to be getting even more drunk on your pussy with each passing second. “Wanted to feel you dripping like this- aaaaaall up in my throat- see- watch.” Your husband commands, and with your head turned down like this you can’t help but watch the way he takes a big swallow of your slick. With a messy glistening face, he grins up at you. “If you could possibly be any- ngh, any fuckin’ wetter then I’d want you to in a second.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been wetter in my life, Kento.” As if to prove your point, even more tear trails of your slick drip down - all for Nanami Kento’s munching delight, of course.

“…Yet.”

And you know one quality that attracted you to your husband the most? It was the fact that, no matter what, he would do what he promised. He would deliver.

Because with a few more sultry slams, his long index is burrowing into your g-spot. Perfectly. It’s as if that bundle of nerves was a target, and Nanami’s able to slide his trimmed nails right where you wanted him to.

Your knees bend limply as the pleasure hits you, and you wail. “Oh- there!” Too gone in your own bliss, he’s actually holding up your weight with one of his strong arms now, looped at your waist.

“Found it.” You can feel his grin against your entrance, “And you did get wetter, my love—”

And he’d found it, alright. Constantly thump-thump-thumpin’ away near the back of your pussy with his relentless fingers, Nanami made sure that the plush pads of his digits would then graze your nerves- making you twitch n’ whine n’ buck in pleasure maddeningly.

“I- I don’t think-” With one of your legs raised upon his shoulders, it was just so easy to squeeze Nanami’s bobbing throat. Almost suffocating him. You blurt, “I don’t think m’gonna last long, Kento-”

“Good.”

The firmness with which he says that one word makes your entire body quiver- and you don’t know whether it’s because of his purely carnal tone, or the way he slithers his fingers inside your cunt, presses down on your g-spot and holds it there.

Unmoving.

No matter how much you squirm or whine.

And Nanami doesn’t waste a single second before he’s immediately trying to topple you over the edge of your high, “Because you don’t have to.” He pants, “Your dear husband is here for a- hah, a reason, my wife. Don’t you know?”

“A- a reason.” You’re babbling, and you don’t know which one of you is more gone by this point.

You’re having trouble holding yourself up, and Nanami claps his chin against the end of your cunt with enough pressure to keep you standing straight. His tongue teasingly rolling out over your clit, “M’here to make you cum.” Push after push, thud! after thud! “Because don’t you know…”

“Don’t I know- fuck, don’t I know what?”

His grin is just sinful—“Don’t you know that you taste sweeter when you cum, my love?” Said in such a tender tone, even though the slashes of his fingers were anything but.

In next to no time, you’re gripping one hand into Nanami’s hair and the other onto his shoulders as you cum all over his mouth. It’s in invisible waves ridden straight from the tip of his nose n’ down to lacquer his chin with gleam, “C-cumming.” Even though he already knew, “M’cumming, Kento. Cum- fuck, s’the best I’ve ever had.”

“Mmm, why thank you, darling.” He’s crooning out lovingly, not even a hint of teasing as he takes it on. All your pushes and bucks- until the skin ‘round Nanami’s mouth was red and raw.

Until his jaw aaaaaached.

And yet, he’s still eating you out through your high, the sparks of bliss absolutely leave you shaking. Toes curled. The top of your crown feeling light and airy- “Think you’ve fucked me- ngh…” Stupid. Even though you don’t say it out loud…at least, you don’t think you do.

But Nanami puffs out a slightly drunken giggle between your pussylips as he hears that word leave your mouth - without you even knowing. Realizing. Dutifully, your husband doesn’t tease you as he plunges his tongue in n’ out, in n’ out. “C’mon- c’mon, c’mon- oh. I was right, you do taste so sweet.”

You’re whimpering as he pulls his fingers out, feeling your convulsing shockwaves peter out into almost nothing.

And even then, Nanami rolls his thick thumb over your clit a few times- just to watch you shake and whine prettily above him. “Done cumming?” He asks, once he feels your body go slightly wobbly. And when you nod- “But I really do wonder if you’d taste even sweeter if I overstim you a little, darling…”

“Oh my god-” Your chin drenches with the spittle that falls out of you unbeknownst to your subconscious, just so sensitive that they’re about the same as the tears dripping from your eyes. “I don’t know if I even can cum so soon again, Kento.”

“We’ll never know until we try.”

He’s tracing squelching wet—hearts?

It feels even more teasing than usual when Nanami’s fingers are toying with your clit, because right now he’s drawing the cutest patterns to watch you react. The way you flinch even more when he draws a big heart- and that cute hitch in your breath when it’s a little one.

“So cute…” Nanami groans, fingers nothing but a blur on your cunt. Spreadin’ you wide open, you can’t believe that your husband then has the audacity to bear his canines and gnaw down on your puffy pussylips. “So sweet-”

“Kento-” You bawl, the pleasure making your senses all bleary. “K-Kento-”

“Oho?” Those blond brows of his raise in interest, and through your tears you can make out the pinkish outline of his tongue coming out to taste his slick-glossed lips. Purring, “It tastes like you’re going to cum again, my love.”

And that’s exactly what you do.

Hard and fast. This one takes you by surprise, just a surge of white-hot electricity that shoots up your spine and leaves your thoughts all muddled.

And, just like before, he’s dragging you through it incredibly. Through every peak of euphoria. Through every flash of bliss every time his slurpin’ tongue accidentally slipped past your entrance when he was sucking you dry.

“Cum- fuck, I’ve already….” Mouth dry. Body shaking. By the time that Nanami’s lengthy tongue has finished lapping up every droplet of your slick, you’ve felt thoroughly fucked through your orgasm. You honestly wouldn’t even have been able to keep yourself standing had it not been for his unrelenting grip on you, refusing to let you fall.

You lean onto his support, feeling your joints protest at the long time you’d spent in this position. “Kento, now I really don’t know if I can cum any- hck! more.”

But Nanami Kento could read what you were saying without saying.

He knew you well enough.

And you knew he did.

Just because you didn’t know doesn’t mean he sure as hell wasn’t allowed to try.

In an instant, your husband’s pulling away—mwah! All that sloppy slick that he wasn’t able to swallow now drips all the way from the tops of his cheekbones, and all the way down his chin. Partly down his neck. Nanami then grips your hips with a loving, pussydrunken smile. “But, when I have a wife that looks like you, my darling, how can I not make you cum?”

Oh.

11:57AM, Saturday.

“Oh my g-god—” Your voice is cracking out in both sobs n’ whines, dribbling out saliva like slick as Nanami’s rutting his naked hips against the globes of your ass cheeks.

It’d taken your husband only a few minutes to manhandle you from the threshold of your house entrance down through the house. Having to hold you up where you were so overstimulated, he’d carried you princess-style. Where he’d pressed you face-down against the polished mahogany of your dining room table. 

All fours. Ass up. Cunt dripping.

You’d shivered as you heard Nanami’s pants hit the floor- his belt ending up in a heap with the rest of it with a loud clang! of metal on tile. And he was simply oooozing out thick pre at the sight of you bent over for him like this, just smearin’ it down your pussylips so that it looked like a gloss. “Mmm—” Nanami grunts out from behind you, his mouth watering at the hot feeling. “So pretty like this, my wife- fuck, so pretty.”

And you’re clawing onto the wood - trying not to make too much of a mess (you’ll have to disinfect this entire house, later) - as he just lightly smooooches your tight orifice with his mushroom tip. “Sh-shit- you’re so hard, Kento.”

“Mhm–” Nanami huffs out smugly- so drunk on his cock, you were craning your head over your shoulder to take a good look at him. “Admiring your husband?”

“Yes.”

In all his rock-hard glory. Nine entire inches.

Veins were zig-zagging down Nanami’s shaft, and they end where his sparse golden hairs start to decorate his hilt. He was just aaaaching to enter you- plump tip colored the prettiest shade of pink, almost as if his painful cock was almost shy to meet your cunt.

You can’t help but notice that it matched the blush creeping up on your husband’s ears, as he leans down and purses his lips to spit straight down to your cunt. Hitting his target dead-on, Nanami grins- “I wonder why we haven’t done it like this sooner, daring?” One of his hands attach to the side of your hips, and he’s just smearin’ apart your folds to take a good look inside. “Before me I see the tastiest fucking dinner I’ve ever seen-”

“Y-you’re so filthy, Kento.” You almost can’t even believe your ears, and you arch your back into his touch. Hamstrings quivering when you nudge your hips up into his, “Why don’t you just f-fuck me already- oh.”

“As you wish, my madam.”

Because he’s already entering you as you squeak out your demands - Nanami Kento was never a man that would leave his wife yearning and wanting, of course.

Anything you wanted, it was yours.

And the same went for his throbbing, hot cock- just the curved end of his shaft plops inside your elastic hole. Because of his sheer girth, Nanami doesn’t even have to try to push apart your tight pussylips - you’re already opening up lewdly for him.

With a cracked whine, your snug channel is gobbling his inches up with a sluuuuurp—making the blond-haired man raise his brows with a chuckle. “Oh- oh, my god.” He pants, breaths coming out ragged. “Ohhhh fuck- you’ve been needy, my wife.”

“I’ve been- hah, been what?” Pathetically, you can only turn your face ‘round to meet his and take it- because Nanami wasn’t letting you off easy just because he was rovering his thick cock inside.

No…in fact, he was pounding and pounding his flared tip past your tender orifice- or, at least, he was trying to. Despite the slight resistance of your tightness, Nanami has one hand on your hips, dragging you back into him with each thrust. “Fucking- needy-”

“Not as much as you.” You’re protesting, feeling the wetness of his precum mix with your slick to travel downwards. “You’ve been the one eating me out like you’re addicted-”

“And you’re the one swallowing me down like you’re trying to suck me dry, my love.” He’s bickering back gently, “Or…” And there was a tinge of something in his carnal tone that makes you shiver, “-should I put all the blame on her instead?”

Her.

Your sultry, wet pussy.

The one he was probin’ his split-ended cock into. The one that was making him grunt after every one of your slight squeezes. The one that was so cozily tight that Nanami had to hold onto your hips and jerk you backwards to try and fit himself all inside.

Jerking and pulling.

Manhandling.

When he feels the tight shield of you still trying to get used to his sheer size, Nanami properly loops his arms ‘round your thighs. And then he’s fucking holding you up- your heels dangling off the tile, your body supported only by the dining table and your husband.

Your geysering cunt purely at the mercy of him, him, him.

“O-ohhhhh, this pussy.” As he sinks in, it’s so good that Nanami hunches his bulky body over - as if he was breaking apart on your hole. Properly in half, breaths heaving out. With every inch of his globular cockhead spearing inside, you can feel Nanami grow more and more feverish. “Oh this pussy- oh, this- this pussy-”

You’re moaning at his broken mantra, “Nanami, are you fuck- alri-”

“The first time in- in what feels like ages that m’getting to fuck you the way I’ve been aching to.” He’s spitting out - literally, back down your sultry slit to make you even wetter for him. And with that, Nanami’s voice veers octaves higher. Crazed. “And you ask me whether m’fucking alright, darling?”

“Well I’d say you were becoming- ngh, pussydrunk already.” You’re whining out, staring into Nanami’s eyes and oh—they were so dilated.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen them this dilated.

They always were, whenever he was gazing at you. But to this extent? It seemed as if his entire iris had just turned back, and Nanami Kento was hanging on your every word, your every breath. You’re whispering, “But…but I think you’re even past that now.”

“P-pussydrunk?” He breathes out the word as if it was a joke- spits it out in almost distaste. Which was strange…because it was honestly one of his favorites. “You think I’d be pussydrunk by now?”

Confused, “Y-yes?”

Before you’re being shocked by a sudden burst from his hips, his meaty thighs striking the backs of yours until his skin there turns red. His blustering tip scrape-scrape-scrapes your insides carnally, and you can feel the line of his slit driving in even deeper.

“Oh, honey- oh, my love- oh, my wife…” Nanami’s droning on out, and if you were in any better state of mind then you’d have realized that the usually-eloquent Nanami Kento was slurring. Smack! Through your kaleidoscope of tears, you’re registering that the skin of his pelvis had just slammed into yours, a stinging impact.

Your husband pliably scoops you up, dragging your hips back down his shaft as if you were nothing but a ragdoll. Your gummy channel was being meshed apart for his upright erection, sliding down it slooooowly. Bit by bit. Inch by solid, throbbing inch. “Don’t you know that- hah-” Until you were fully bottomed out, “-I’ve been pussydrunk aaaaall week?”

All week?

Your mouth opens - perhaps to question him, perhaps to counterpoint him - but the only thing that echoes out is a sensual whine as he then starts ramming into you at a sloppy cadence.

Sloppy and fast.

Hard.

Nanami’s pulling all the way back till juuust the crown of his red tip kissed your entrance, then shoving back in until the hilt. Your orifice stretched all widely open ‘round his base, the spattering of curly golden hair tickling your folds. “Don’t you know?” Your husband asks, “Didn’t you know I’ve been- hngh, ruined on your pussy all week?”

“Ruined?” You repeat, clawing onto the table for some semblance of stability. “But we haven’t even properly-”

“Exactly.”

Oh.

He was now rutting into you like an animal, the curve of his luscious tip swabbin’ at your every ounce of space. “You don’t know how fucking greedy- how impatient I’ve- hah, I’ve been-”

And that surprised you, “Impatient?” Though, he was certainly fucking you like it. After every rugged bash of Nanami’s cockhead, he was surging back in for more  - barely even letting the springy recoil of your walls start before he’s plummeting back in.

Again and again.

A particularly hard thud! has you feeling him at the back of your throat, and your cheeks stain with a few lacquer of tears. “I almost can’t believe that- oh-”

He’s pinning down your squirming hips, and you can feel the line of Nanami’s happy trail scritch-scratch your skin. “I am not a patient man, my wife.” He says, darkly. Holding you down whilst he fucks you like a madman- “I could barely hold myself back this entire week- could barely- haaah, you don’t know how many times I’ve almost cracked n’ called off work just to be able to stay home and fuck this pussy stupid for a few hours.”

“And- and then?” You’re hiccuping, feeling his slamming tempo get even faster. “Then what?”

“Oh, you’re enjoying this—little slut.” Pure shock sparks down your body at the words he was using - absolutely filthy. “Let’s see how much you like this then-” And before you know it, one of his hands lifts off of your waist to rover down to between your legs.

Nanami’s rough index and thumb pinches your clit- “Fuh-fuck! Kento!”

“Wanted to do that for so long.” He watches with relish as you shake beneath him, “If the boys weren’t there- ngh, you have no idea how many times I’ve wanted to just reach over as you ate and pinch this cute clit. Just to tease. Just to see if you’d gasp.”

“Please- please-”

Only toying with your sensitive nub even harder - no matter what, he was always such a rough player. “Wanted to see if you’d scream my, mm, name like that.” Now alternating with his sensual drags of your clit, and rough rolls of his thumb flat. “If this hole of yours would get even wetter because—fuuuck.”

And then the girth of his length starts snaggin’ against your pussy walls, every ounce of blood in Nanami’s body flowing to his cock and swelling it up even further.

“-because I’d sure get harder when you do.”

Just as he said, he had.

Your head lolls stupidly in front of you- but of course, Nanami couldn’t have that. So he’s using his free hand to help you rest your clammy scalp back against his shoulder, so bent forwards that it wasn’t much of a stretch, honestly.

Like any good husband, Nanami Kento wanted to gaze lovingly into your eyes will he fucked you deep. 

“Aaaand then there’s this spot-” Plop! The raw vibrations start from where he’s bashing in your g-spot, set your teeth utterly on their edges. He angles his hips so that it digs a pretty bruise right there on your nerves, “-this spot that I looooove- n’ I know she loves me, too. Because she’s- haah, squeezing me so tight- never wants to let me go-”

“Right there-” You cry out, as if that wasn’t already obvious. “There there there there- faster, Kento.”

Precisely, Nanami’s smoochin’ away at your g-spot - with such incredible accuracy that your dazed mind starts to wonder whether he has some sort of superpower that lets him calculate the ratio. The speed of his hips- the vulgarity. He’s viciously gnawing down on your ear as you try to buck, “Just how many times have I squeezed my c-cock like this, just imagining that it was you-”

“You h-have?”

“Mhmmm, and all those times I’d fuckin’ salivate just imagining—” There’s almost a pout in his voice, something so starkly cute whilst he tunneled into you savagely. “But it never was quite the same.”

“I thought about you so much, too, Ken.” You admit, your thighs clenching together- which your husband easily swats away to start twisting your clit even harder. “Wanted you to fuck me just like this-”

A sultry smile spreads across his lips, “Oh yeah? And was it just like this?”

“Mhm—” You’re fervently nodding, “Just like this and I- also…” And only at Nanami’s reassuring look do you continue, “…you also had your- hah, your leg up.”

“My leg up?” Nanami asks, “Like…this?”

There’s a thud! and then a clutter once one of his meaty thighs rests up on the table, capped knee coming to rest where your peripheral vision could see. This change in angle made him just enter his round cockhead into completely deeper parts of your womb. 

Swirlin’ around your gummy walls, just pushing his bawling divot into spots you didn’t even know existed. Again. And again. And again and again and again—

“And you know what I was fantasizing about?” He’s panting out in scorched waves, hips leaving a fever pitch. 

“Wh-what?”

“Ohhh, you know…just like this-” You could hear the grin in his voice, “-fucking you rough. Fucking you hard, feeling your hot pussy for the first time in- hck! ages. I’d been missing her so much, taking her so much. My favorite lil’ meal- oh, I really want to taste you right now…”

Arching your back into his glissading abs, “Kento, don’t stop. I feel like I’m about to-” Cutting yourself off with a breathy intake of air when he’s drawin’ hearts on your pulsating nub.

“Oho–? Then perhaps I should go on- I was thinking of you exactly like- ngh, this, my love. Except for one key difference…”

“And that is?”

To answer your question, Nanami gets up reeeeal close in your ear- he glides his hot lips down the side of your face, letting his breath send shivers skittering down your spine. “It’s that not only was I fucking you rough, darling, I was fucking you with the intention of getting you pregnant-”

And then it’s white- 

And you’re cumming.

Surging even harder than any of your ones before, your heartbeat thumps in your ears like a war drum. Body at the mercy of your husband, Nanami Kento, as he bucks and bucks and bucks you through the perfect peaks of your high. Until, ultimately…

“F-fuck.” Even with your popped eardrums, you manage to catch the way that Nanami’s voice breaks as he swears his surrender. The drivelling circle at the end of his cockhead suddenly bursting into his own high- “Fuck, exactly like this-”

Hunching over. Pinning you to the bed.

He’s shoving his leaking cock deep into the goopy crevices of your pussy, letting you flood up with each miry line of his cum. “Exactly like this- just like this-” Nanami’s groaning out, webbing up your sweet insides with his orgasm. “This entire week I imagined pinning you down like- this—”

“Oh, please.” You’re blinking back the stars in your vision as one of his hands lets go to push down your hips. Wrestling you into stillness for a second-

“And then my cum- fuck, your pussy’s so hungry for my ngh, cum. She’s sucking it up like- th-thiiiiis—” You’re feeling the exact moment that even more of his ivory syrup seeps out, trickling against the back of your cervix. He’s fucking you through both of your highs almost aggressively, “And then- and then…”

“And then?”

“Oh, honey—” Nanami grins, like he knew something you didn’t. The hand pinning you down slowly scrapes down until it was plastered against your front, pushing down where a lil’ cumflation was threatening to start. A little bulge. In many ways. “-then you’d be pregnant, is what.”

3:01PM, Saturday.

It was only a few more rounds and a hasty lunch later that Nanami had cornered you again (or perhaps you had cornered him, it was hard to say with just how ravenous the two of you actually were). Until, ultimately, you were perched atop the very kitchen counter that the two of you had made yourselves lunch in. 

Your body draped across the frigid counter, your legs in the air.

Cunt directly in the line of sight of your husband, who’d just been hankerin’ for something more…sweet (and had rejected every other dessert option until it came to this).

Nanami’s looooong tongue was dipping in and out of your hole, gathering up all those creamy wads of cum that he’d stuffed in there just moments prior. As if he was forgetting his objective of getting you pregnant- and then starting all over again. 

“Mmm—mmpf.” Came his strangled moans, being completely crushed between your legs- and his two hands plastered upon either side of them as if trying to get them to tighten ‘round his neck even more. “What did I say about this being my favorite dessert—?”

Slightly leaning back, you can see the full scope of the messes that you and Nanami have made of each other. Slick n’ white cum glued across his face, a sheen that his tastebuds dart out to lick every ounce of. 

Dripping wet.

Plunging in and out.

Lavishing his mouth between your trembly, overstimulated legs for more, more, more. It was just so wet that it felt like you were melting underneath him, with all your excess staining down his throat now. 

With a shiver, you’re clawing at Nanami’s blond head and attempting to push him down- “And wh-what have I said about not talking with your mouth full?”

Unexpectedly (or perhaps not, you shouldn’t be surprised by now), this doesn’t deter Nanami a single bit. Doesn’t make him falter a single shred.

In fact, he’s actually wracking with primal shivers, the lower half of his body that was obscured by the angle below ruts—“Ohhhh, love when you go all momma mode.” He’s spitting between your pussylips, plastering those swollen lips of yours to his own. And just bubbling out in dewy wads every time he’s pokin’ his tongue inwards and swirling it all around, “Can’t- hah, can’t wait to make you a momma all over again. Can’t wait to fuck a baby into ya, my darling. All round and glowing and- and mine…”

Faster and faster. You’re wondering just how it was possible for Nanami to talk with his mouth all full, and his tongue working overtime to reach for the hidden spots deepest inside you. “And how will you do that when you’re- ngh, greedy for every drop of…”

He looks up with a darkly amused glint, “Drop of what, my love?”

“Drop of- of cum.” You’re finally managing to shrill out, and you think it may have something to do with the fact that Nanami had finally gulped down any and every bit of evidence of the mess he’d made of you. That glistening lacquer of creamy white not dotted his lips, and he was rovering his mouth over your clit and biting it now-

“Drop of cum, hm—?” Nanami pretends to think, so seriously that it reminded you of the way he’d be when he was in the midst of some important business project. “Oh, you’re right. I do need to fill you up with my cum before I can get you, ngh, pregnant.”

You’re squirming, “I genuinely can’t tell if you’re seriously that gone or not, Kento.”

“H-heh…”

And it seems that that was all the answer you’re getting for that particular answer- as for the other demand of yours, Nanami doesn’t quite answer it until you’re cumming ‘round his mouth all over again.

He licks up the tenderest spots of your insides until you feel yourself tipping over the edge - by now, your orgasm was nothing more than a few tingles that ran from the pit of your belly n’ left you all numb. 

All quivering.

You look down and realize, with a jolt, that he’d cleaned you off perfectly - and Nanami Kento always was great with aftercare, but this seemed to be something else entirely. Something filthy. And your cunt almost missed the hot splashes of cum that were once overspilling out of you.

Tears slick down your cheeks and - for the nth time that night - you muse that you can’t possibly cum again, for at least a few weeks.

“Oh yes, you can.” He answers—oh, you’d said that out loud. Fuck. “And you will-” Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. With a final few slurping smooches, Nanami wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and gets up from his place kneeled on the kitchen floor. And you can already see that his dick is rock-fucking-hard-

“After all, I have to fill you all over again, don’t I?”

7:18PM, Saturday.

You haven’t even had dinner yet.

You haven’t even had dinner yet - but Nanami Kento was making sure that you were stuffed.

Like the cutest of lollipops, looooong and hard. His blushin’ cockhead was licked pink at the very tip, dribbling out in wads of precum that leave your tongue feeling all sticky. He pinpoints the salty taste of it right against the back of your throat, and you whine—

“Sh-shoooo- mmpf.” You manage to gurgle out, and by the way that he’s swabbing every inch of your maw with his length- it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that you were claiming he was ‘soooo big’.

But Nanami wanted to tease you a little bit…

“What was hah! that, my love?” He’s crooning, overlarge hand coming down where you were seated beneath his meaty thighs. They quiver every time the lavish muscle of your tongue traced his muscles, like that was all it took to leave your poor husband on the verge of breaking.

Oh, and how cute you looked with your angrily furrowed brows, mouth full of his cock, huffing n’ puffing at the question he’d just asked. 

You were underneath his office desk by this point, and Nanami’s leaning his body back in his chair to buck up ever-so-slightly inside you. Hushing at you all the while to relax your throat, “Shhh—breathe through your- ngh, nose, darling, breeeeathe. Breathe n’ try to repeat that sentence f’me?”

You’re popping off of his flared mushroom tip with a wet pwah! “But why—? I said you’re so-”

“I want you to say it with my cock in your mouth, m’kay?” Nanami says in that stern tone of his. And you’re letting his massive palm cradle the back of your throat to get you moving your maw over his length once more, nuzzling the curly hairs of his happy trail.

You’re breathing in his musky masculine scent, “Just so mean.” Pouting, and your dear husband already knows that he’s won.

That when you perk your head up, he’ll be guiding his flushed tip to tap-tap-tap against your puckered lips. Your mouth was just so raw from so many kisses that you wince at the stinging sensation, your spit drivelling down both sides of your face.

“I said- hck!” Cut off right as Nanami plugs your dewy mouth hole with his cock, plunging iiiiin—“That you’re so- mmmpf—”

Intentionally, whenever it showed even the slightest signs that you may be emitting any coherent sentences, Nanami would buck his mean hips. Until the toned lines of his pelvis massaged your jaw, he’s lodging his beading cock all the way against the back of your throat- and then has the audacity to coo. “Awww, why aren’t you speaking, darling? I just looove your voice so much.”

“Mmmpf-” You rake your nails down his milky thighs, leaving sinful marks for days. “Hngh-” Slightly managing to find a bobbing pace that let you breath enough, “I said you’re so-”

“Aaaand there we go ag-fuck, again.” Before you can finish your sentence, he’s then reaching over to pinch your two nostrils together. A mean smile twitching at one corner of his mouth as you struggle and claw your way down his thighs even more.

Head bobbing desperately, he’s finding that that cute jaw of yours unhinges even more when he restricted your air like this. Interesting…

Finally - finally - letting go of your only form of breathing, Nanami lets you pull off of his throbbing red cock with a gasp. Lines of miry precum still connecting your mouth to his tip, chest heaving- “Fuh-fuck, Kento. What I was saying was-”

“And how can you expect to teach our new baby all those phonetics if you can’t even- ngh, string together a sentence yourself, my darling? No offense but—oh, fuck, that feels good.” He whispers, shutting you up with his girth once more.

Nanami’s cock was just so wiiiide that he made your mouth create the cutest lil’ ‘oh’ whenever he rammed himself right down to the base. Right. Down to. The. Base. 

Your husband airily asks, “Now…what were you saying a-again?”

12:27AM, Sunday.

By this time, you’d finally reached the bedroom - though, only after Nanami had taken you on every single spot inside your shared home and saved your king-sized bed for best and for last.

You were practically running on fumes by this point, and could barely even hold up the messy mating press that he’d pressed you into. With his beefy arms tangled up with yours, his thighs pressed against the backs of yours, cock probing into you deeeeeeep.

You swear you could almost taste the salty sweetness of his cockhead at your throat, just oozing out in creamy white wads- almost as if cumming was a perpetual state that Nanami was in whenever he was inside you from now onwards.

Again and again and again-

“Please!” You’re wetly gasping out, head thrown back into pillows that were drenched with your tears by now. “Please- I think it’s already t-taken by now, Kento-”

“Taken?” Nanami asks, almost in a daze. “Taken- you mean…”

And then you watch - in real-time - as the blond-haired man’s mouth parts ever-so-slightly. As understanding washes over his face. As he’s once again swatting at the door to your womb, and you can feel it splosh! with the overspilling remnants of his ivory sap. 

It trickles out of your overworked hole in a line of white, and Nanami languidly rovers his hand over to push back in those excess wads. He grins, “I almost forgot that we were s-supposed to get you pregnant, my darling.” You gawk as he continues, “To be quite honest, I’ve just been- ngh, addicted to your cunt.”

“A-addicted-”

“Can’t pull out.” He admits, slashing rude spanks into the back of your pussy with every hoarse syllable - you’re sure that you weren’t too far behind, and that your voice would give out soon. “Can’t even imagine it- can’t even dream of it-” 

You squeal as a hand at your throat helps Nanami pull you back along to every one of his rugged thrusts, his plap-plap-plapping hips almost stinging against yours now.

“All I want is her- all I need to feel—” Growing even rougher with his nudgin’ at your cervix, you wonder whether you might just pass out and see the pearly gates at this rate. “All I need to see- taste- smell- feel—h-hck! Oh, I can feel my cum swirlin’ around inside you- s’like heaven.”

With a shiver, you’re feeling him splat! out a few more wads of ivory white cum, emptying out to add to the rest of the slicked mess he’d made. You might just be reaching your own high, as well, but with how far you were overstimulated- you couldn’t even be sure at this point.

Gasps scorching as he says, “And it makes me…”

Oh, you knew something was coming up when he started speaking like that. 

“And- and it makes you?” You claw onto the dampened sheets- you might just have to change them soon, because something told you that you won’t be leaving this bedroom for a while.

“Makes me want to…do it all over again.”

4:56AM, Sunday.

“Get pregnant-” Nanami grunts, furiously pumping his reddened, raw cock inside you. Absolutely furiously. “Get pregnant- get pregnant- get- get pregnant…”

“I think- fuck, can feel it—” You’re sobbing out, holding onto Nanami for dear life by this point.

You were right in assuming that neither of you would be leaving this very bedroom for a while, because it’s hours later and you hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep - hours later and Nanami Kento was still trying to mold his thick, vein-covered cock to your walls. Still trying to get you pregnant as soon as possible.

Right now, actually.

Not even in a proper sex position by this point (you’d already tried everything there was to try), this was more of a sloppy prone bone. With your legs sprawled behind you, and Nanami’s hulking body melting down into yours.

His abs gluing to your back, his thighs shivering from behind.

He could barely even hold himself up on overworked limbs, and Nanami was left collapsed on top of you. Pinning you down helplessly. Crushing you to his sculptured body, his sweaty abs mingled with your back as he pushes n’ probes n’ cums—“A-another…” Nanami pants, and something wet hits the line of your spine—tears. Nanami Kento was crying overstimulated tears.

“Gonna get you pregnant with th-this one- I can, haaah, feel it, my love.” His hand scours underneath your tummy, and you can feel him preeeeess into the spot of your womb where you were all filled up to the brim. “I just know it- I, fuck, just know this one left that pretty pussy o’ mine pregnant.”

“Of yours?” You’re babbling away, feeling so full. You’d only have done this for Nanami - for his ravenous urge to get you pregnant with your third child. 

“Mhmmm, of mine.” He answers, grinding so that his tender ballsack scrapes your puffy folds. “Of my lovely wife. Of the beautiful m-momma to by three beautiful children- fuck, just saying that made me cum again, my love, look at that…heh.”

“I think m’close to…” You’re babbling pathetically, not even sure if you could by now.

But Nanami was probin’ against that spot so perfectly still, and by now your nerves were so tender that every tiny graze sets your teeth on edge. Vision a kaleidoscope of tears- “Kento, I think m’gonna-”

And before you can finish your sentence, you’re cumming.

Well, you’re not just cumming, to be quite honest.

You’re squirting.

Thick, watery splashes of your high that leave your husband’s sloppy staccato faltering for but a few seconds- as he takes in the constant gush of sap that was leaving you. Gush after gush. Directly following the peak after peak of your orgasm.

And what does Nanami do?

Well, other fuck you ferally through your squirtin’ high, that is? He’s slithering a hand down to roll over your clit whilst you cum, making you whimper at the delicate feeling.

Intentionally, he’s drenching his skin all a gleaming sheen to- fuck, to bring up to his gluttonous maw and lick off—

“So…baby names, my wife?”

.

.

.

1:26PM, Sunday.

You think you might have passed out some time after you’d squirted, and slept straight through until it was past noon. When you’d awoken, you discovered that you’d actually been…cleaned off and tucked safely under the covers. 

The bedsheets had been changed, too, with one of your favorite pillows fluffed underneath your head. Blankets raised high. Food on your bedside counter in case you’d woken up hungry. And your husband cuddled up beside you, waking up to your lethargic movements.

Of course, he’d taken you then, too.

It’d been slooooow and sleepy this time- and you think that Nanami had barely even registered the fact that he was awake before his primal mind was immediately filled with the urge to impregnate, impregnate, impregnate. 

A slight tear track lined down his handsome cheek and to his (thoroughly bitten) throat once he pressed his plummy cockhead inside- smiling at the whoosh of cum that’d just splashed out of you. “Hungry, my love?”

“Not that much-” You’re answering, “Since we already…” Only- you realize that your husband wasn’t looking at you at all. 

He was looking at…

A wet sluuuurp emanates once your entrance swallows his cock past your puffy pussylips, welcoming the lines of Nanami’s veins back inside once more- oh, how the tiniest of crevices inside you had missed him already. “Oh, you had been hungry.” He titters, almost to himself. “Look at you g-go-”

You’re yelping as he bottoms out, “So you were talking to-”

“Oh? What’s that?” Knowingly, Nanami’s cupping his ear to lean down and listen- the most lecherous of noises once he ruts in and out of your treacly cunt. In and out. In and out. In and out. “Uh uh? Uhhh uh—oh, I see-”

With his devilish eyes, he’s turning towards you and you almost flinch at the look in them-

“She says the baby’s hungry, my wife-” One of his hands ends up on your right tit, and Nanami brings your hardened nipple up to his mouth to suck—and, oh, the poor thing was sensitive? It made you thrash? 

Worry not, because in a singular fluid motion, Nanami’s reaching over towards the bedside table to grab one of his infamous silken work ties. Using it to tie your wrists up- “At least, my baby’s hungry- for me to fuck a baby into her.”

Again.

5:44PM, Sunday.

You’d had a brief call just before this with Choso and Yuji in Oita (with the video option carefully turned off on your side so that they wouldn’t be able to see the state their parents were now in, all bitten, broken). 

And right after- oh, right after, Nanami had all but pounced on you.

Maybe it had been the joy of seeing his sons again, maybe it had been the urgency of realizing that they’d be home by this time tomorrow. Tomorrow morning itself.

But he had you bend like a lawn chair back into your favorite mating press position, your hamstrings screaming at you to slow down- and your husband doing anything but that. “Preg-pregnant-” He’s whispering out brokenly, unable to manage anything above a rasp. “Have to get you pregnant- have to have everyone look at you and just know what I did-”

You feel his reddened tip twitch inside of you and you moan, “Yes- yes yes yes yes, Kento-” His cum spurting out in sloppy streaks. “I want it all inside, I want a baby with you- ngh.”

“Fuck, don’t say that- s’just gonna wanna make me go again.” He pleads with you, overstimulated lower lip wobbling at the feeling of your velvety, heart-shaped insides clenching ‘round him. “Just gonna make me- ngh.”

“Fuck, Kento-”

“P-pregnant…” He babbles onwards, “I get the f-feeling s’gonna be a girl, momma.”

8:45PM, Sunday.

After that, there were likely multiple more rounds that melted into one lustful haze in your mind. But the one round that you remember the most fondly out of that particular Sunday, was the one directly after Nanami had skipped dinner to go straight back into fucking you.

Your last round.

He was a crying, whimpering mess by this point - this large, towering hulk of a man that had been reduced to absolutely nothing on your pussy. You could clench and it would be enough to make your husband shed a few tears, his strawberry-red divot streaming out in pearly beads of cum. Allllll emptied out in the back of your pussy-

“I think-” He’s gasping out towards the end, feeling your slimy walls contract with what might just be another one of your highs once more. “I think this one—hnghhh.”

“Oh my-” You’re speechless-

Because Nanami only lazily probes his thick cock inside you, holding onto the front of your stomach- he presses doooown right where his mushroomy tip ended at, thudding deep into the front of your overspilling womb by now. 

Drenched in his cum.

A white, hot mess because of him.

And with a carnal grunt of your name, Nanami’s finishing out once more. With a few vulgar strokes of him swirlin’ aside the webs of sap already inside of you- you’re realizing that-

“Fuck…” Your maw drops agape, “Did you just- hngh, c-cum dry, Kento?”

“Wha—” He’s hazily turning his eyes downwards, only now realizing that the end of his shaft hadn’t burst out in creamy white like it always did these past two days. He had the faint sparks of electricity, all the twitches—but Nanami hadn’t actually cum.

You’d sucked him dry.

He was cumming dry.

The realization hits him hard enough that his breath hitches, “O-oh-” Tears glitter the ends of his molten stares, “You’re right, my love, I did cum dry.” With his palm still plastered against your front, Nanami pulls you towards him - no position at all by now, just a tangled heap of limbs. “And you wanna- fuuuuck, don’t squeeze me like that- you wanna know something else, too?”

You’re cracking your teary lids open at him, “What?”

Only for your husband, Nanami Kento, to lean down and whisper—“I think it really took this time, my wife.”

“Oh…” You’re smiling up at him, your lids heavy. “That’s…good…Kento.”

And it’s the last thing you remember before you’re closing your eyes into a deep, deep slumber.

.

.

.

“Oh, fuck-” You’re shooting upright in your comfortable bed, which only seemed to wish to drag you back down onto its springy mattress with invisible arms. And it was tempting, you have to admit.

Very, very tempting.

If only sunlight hadn’t been flowing with gusto even through your bedroom curtains, and birds and traffic weren’t twittering in competition outside. It was one of those mornings when the world just seemed a little bit brighter- and with growing panic, you’re slamming your hand out to grab your phone off of the bedside table.

Muttering to yourself, “Oh, fuck fuck fuck- fuck.” It hurt to even move your limbs out for this simple action, though that was the least of your worries right now. “It seems so late- don’t tell me I missed the pick up time for-” You tap on your phone screen—

10:45AM, Monday.

(Public holiday)

“Fuck, I did-”

3 missed messages from Hubby <3

“No- wait.”

Hubby <3: I went to go pick up the kids, so don’t worry, my love. I’ll also take care of breakfast so don’t even think about it!

Hubby <3: You just get all the sleep you need. I love you.

Hubby <3: So, so much.

You’re exhaling in relief, falling back against your pillows. Out of curiosity, you’re checking the timestamps on the messages that Nanami had sent, and find that it had actually been a fair amount of time before you’d awoken. So that means…

“Papa, where’s momma?”

Ah, Yuji’s loudly curious voice emanates from downstairs - as well as the sweet, simmering smell of pancakes and syrup. Just hearing your sons so close by makes you excited to step downstairs (and you had to admit that the thought of breakfast made your stomach rumble, too)- and yet, you persist. If just to hear what excuse your husband might come up with.

Fuck, it hits you all at once - right along with the immensely satisfying fatigue in your body. The soreness. The bruises. The bites. You’d just fucked like animals for two days.

“Ah…” Nanami’s deep voice hesitates, “She’s asleep, sunshine.”

“Still?” Choso pipes up this time, and you could almost imagine the way that his dark brows would knit together when he wanted to get to the bottom of a mystery. “That’s odd, is she sick or something?”

“Or something.”

Yuji pouts, “What’s that mean, papa?”

“Momma’s just very ah- tired, you two know how hard she works.” He replies, and your heart soars as you listen to two little voices of agreement. “Let’s let her sleep, okay? And maybe if she isn’t awake by the time we finish these pancakes- then you two can get momma’s plate ready, and I’ll go upstairs to help her down, alright? We can surprise her with a fancy breakfast just for her!”

“Yes, papa—!”

“Sounds good!”

You hear Nanami chuckle, “And make sure you plate quite a bit, kiddos, I have the feeling that momma’s gonna have to eat for two very, very soon.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, papa?”

“Heh, that’s a secret, sunshine…”

A/N. Y’all were asking for thisssssss so ofc daddy has to deliver mwahahaha…

Plagiarism not authorized.

[reignpage]

Dear darling wife, the distance is agony...

Synopsis: in which you're upset with your husband and won't respond to his messages, so he has to resort to contacting you during work hours... using your work emails Warnings: fluff, slightly suggestive, playful arguing — no one's actually upset, features guests stars (one gets bullied).

From: [email protected] Subject: Talk To Me Please

Good morning, dear,  Or rather, it would be, if my wife so much as looked in my direction this morning. Instead, I find myself writing to you like some forgotten soul behind enemy lines, using this means of communication as if I am but a mere stranger begging for a moment of your time. It is humiliating. Your refusal to hear your husband out is noted and begrudgingly endured but I forgive you (see? It is not so hard at all).  Please just answer your messages. We have a data plan for a reason.  Love, always,  Your Kento

From: [email protected] Subject: Seriously?

Hello Kento,  I hope you are well.  Please refrain from contacting me via my work email. It is inappropriate and annoyingly endearing. Let me be mad in peace. Thank you.  Best wishes,  Your Wife

From: [email protected] Subject: Please Forgive Me

Hello to you too, sweetheart, I must admit your response is both upsetting and encouraging. Truthfully, I wasn't expecting you to respond at all. Of course, I wish your email was more welcoming but beggars and whatnot. What must I do, my love? I have apologised. Not once or twice, but countless times. So many times now it feels like ‘I’m so sorry’ were my first words. I rose early to prepare your favourite breakfast — drove clear across the city to find the precise ingredients (you and I both know there is only one acceptable brand of jam in this household). I plated it neatly, included a smiley face, just as you like it, though, I observed, it was met with a frown, thus defeating the spirit of these things.  Your work clothes were laid out, ironed with care and to perfection, if I may say so myself. I made sure the heating was on well before you awoke, so the chill wouldn’t bother you so — I’ve seen how cold mornings test your…patience, should we say. Your lunch was packed and ready, with a handwritten note tucked inside, although I’m sure you carelessly tossed it aside in your bid to destroy my will to live on a spiritual level. It was a new recipe, by the way. I hope it suits your taste. Do let me know. Perhaps by softening your glare when you arrive home since apparently smiles are beneath you. Even last night, I relinquished the duvet entirely — though I must admit, it was less an offering and more a tactical surrender after you ripped it from my body without mercy. I woke up frozen, on the brink of pneumonia. Need I remind you, I am at a tender age?  And after all of that… You walked past me. Not a word. Not even a glance. You washed the dishes (which is, and I cannot stress this enough, my responsibility), and shoved my work clothes off the bed because — what was it? The sleeve was ‘encroaching’ upon your own and the cotton needed space because ‘husband air is toxic?’ That was particularly hurtful. Entirely uncalled for. My blazer may never recover. Still, I could take it. I could take all of it. Because I admit my fault and I recognise my need to be punished. But to leave without kissing me goodbye? That, my love, was unconscionable. A line crossed. A declaration of war. An admittance of lesser character. I am disappointed in you. Thus, I now join your unrelenting form on the S.S. Marital Displeasure. Let’s see how we fare at sea, together. Yours, unwaveringly, Kento— the husband you once swore never to abandon P.S. Dinner is on me tonight. Please let me know what time you’ll be home. P.P.S. You looked radiant this morning. Even in silence. Even in a mood. You’re still the most beautiful thing in the room.

From: [email protected] Subject: Wow. Just Wow

Kento,  You infuriatingly adorable man. All those things you listed about this morning are things you do everyday. I know that was supposed to guilt trip me, but that just annoyed me more cause I get it — you’re totally perfect and handsome and tall and you smell nice. Ugh, you’re the worst. Lunch was yummy, by the way. Ten out of ten. The note, which I didn’t carelessly throw away mind you (that was very rude to assume, how dare you) telling me ‘you are loved even when you’re grumpy’ was not. I am not grumpy, Kento. I am aggrieved.  You have aggrieved me.  Also, don’t try to guilt trip me about the cover hogging. You run hot and you know we have a spare duvet in the closet. Many times now, I've begged you to take it because I know I have bad sleeping habits BUT you refused. You said, need I remind you, that you insist on sharing one to be as close to me as possible. Your words.  The work clothes thing was an accident. I didn’t mean to push it off, and I was trying to stay mad so I made up some lie. Tell your blazer I’m sorry. Tell its owner I will never forgive nor forget. You know what you did.  And I don’t want you to join my ship. We can’t both be on it. We’ll sink…damn that’s metaphorical. For your own good, get off now whilst you still can.  Lukewarm wishes,  Your Wife P.S. I’ll be home later than you, I have some things to finish P.P.S. There was only one other person in the room and that was you, and even then you were clearly the more beautiful one Mr. Wakes Up With A Five O’Clock Shadow And Silky Golden Locks. That pissed me off so much more. Try to be less perfect, thank you.

From: [email protected] Subject: I Miss You

My dearest, I’ve read your message precisely three times and still, I’m not entirely sure whether I’ve been forgiven or sentenced. However, I feel a sense of optimism, foolish or not.  Let me begin with your opening line: ‘infuriatingly adorable’— it is not quite a compliment but I accept it with caution regardless. I am adorable and I understand that you wish I wasn’t. As soon as possible, I will find a cure. Moreover, in reference to my morning route, you’re right, of course. The tasks I listed are things I do every day. Not as some grand gesture, but because loving you — actively, attentively, without pause — is part of my daily routine. Like ironing my shirts or making my coffee. It’s muscle memory now. If I were to stop, I fear I might just malfunction and catch fire. That said, if you are aggrieved — not grumpy, as I so mistakenly suggested, please forgive me for that too — then I humbly bow to your deliverance, Lady Justice. Though I maintain that the distinction is rather blurry when you’re stomping past me with furrowed brows and lips pressed into a line sharp enough to cut marble, lips I dare say I wish I could kiss into their usual form. Regarding the duvet — yes, I recall saying that. I stand by it. Even if I must freeze to death one night beneath your siege of unconscious theft, I would still rather reach out and find you beside me than not. You will indubitably note that that was unnecessarily dark, I’m sure, and you’ll then make a comment about the phase we shall not talk about that I went through in my youth. Further, the blazer has accepted your apology. It insists you take it off me tonight. (Is that too forward? You usually love when I’m forward but I worry this will only enrage you more, likely in a way that will leave me dangerously sore. Perhaps that is what I intend. I cannot tell anymore. I just miss your touch). As for the note, I didn’t assume you threw it away. I merely feared it. I know you well enough to know that even when you’re furious, you’re still gentle with the things I give you. It’s one of those things you do that melt my heart. Lastly, your ship — this solitary vessel of marital vengeance — sounds lonely. It is precisely that reason however that I must stay aboard, respectfully. With all my love, Kento – your infuriatingly tall, overly warm, occasionally smug but entirely yours husband P.S. I’ll have dinner ready by the time you’re home. P.P.S. I will attempt to be less perfect, though I make no promises. I’ve spent years mastering my five o’clock shadow, it practically comes in on its own when it senses you’re at your most vulnerable. As for my silky, golden locks, I owe that to you and your hair mask. Thank you.

From: [email protected] Subject: Tempting

Kento. I’ve read your message. Twice. Once dramatically, on break. Once again, aloud, with emphasis, so the plants in my office could also judge you. And I must say... The audacity. The calm. The poetry. The charm. Ugh. Disgusting. I hate how you win arguments by being emotionally intelligent and devastatingly eloquent. Stop. Also, your blazer is so dramatic. I was always going to take it off you, that was never in question. And yes, I love when you're forward. I loved it just now. Reminds me of that time we snuck off into the janitor's closet and... Moving on. I will admit (reluctantly) that your words were very lovely, they usually are, and the image of you freezing like a noble idiot because you'd rather suffer than part from me for even a life-saving second was both tragic and romantic and exactly the kind of behaviour that makes staying mad at you basically impossible. I hate that for me. But fine. F I N E. You may stay aboard my metaphorical ship, provided you bring snacks and acknowledge that I am the captain and you’re just here for deck-swabbing privileges and forehead kisses. You’ll be handsomely rewarded ;) Love, Your Wife (Still aggrieved. But slightly less so. Like… 69% less.) P.S. If you’re trying to seduce me via dinner, it’s working. You might get that kiss. Or two. Depends how good it is. P.P.S. Don’t think I’d miss the opportunity to mention MCR Kento. Your past will haunt you forever.

From: [email protected] Subject: Please Stop

Dear YN and Nanami Kento,  I hope you are both well.  Do forgive me for intruding but, as Head of HR and as your friend, I feel a need to remind you both that you are liaising using your work emails which are monitored by HR. Resolving marital disputes on company hours and company mail is not recommended nor permitted. Please set this aside for when you get home. I also wish to remind you that your offices are a short distance from each other. There doesn’t seem to be a need to be communicating via emails at all. From my desk, I have been watching you two write your emails with smiles on your faces.  I suspect neither of you are mad at each other at all. So, YN, please just forgive him already. He hasn’t done much work all day, whereas your productivity has somehow increased. We should probably hold a meeting to discuss both changes. I am concerned.  Lastly, your fight is distracting everyone. One colleague described it as ‘funny,’ another ‘sweet,’ and someone else called it ‘foreplay’ — I’m sure you understand why exactly I intervened. You are both already on two strikes. Please don't make me remind you of what exactly what happened the last two times. The company is still paying for therapy sessions for the affected employees. Do better.  Best wishes,  Ijichi Kiyotaka P.S. Why were you even mad? Did he forget an anniversary? Comment on your weight?

From: [email protected] Subject: Kinda Embarrassed. No Longer Mad

Dear Kento, Did not realise the whole office was invested in this. No wonder the intern was giving me a look and Sharon from IT told me that she and her husband also fight like this to ’spice up’ their love life, and that its best when the husband gets mad too. TMI but appreciated. Are you even capable of getting mad at me? Well, anyway, you heard the man. Let’s continue this conversation at home.  And Ijichi, I know you’re reading this, you Peeping Tom. I hope you know we’re going to make sweet, dirty love tonight. All night. Bring this up to the Big Boss, I dare you. I know you haven’t forgotten the huge favour you owe me for beating Gojo up when he needlessly sent you on errands around the city. Please stand up for yourself. Do better, as you say. Kento, let’s go home together tonight. I need to apologise to your blazer as soon as possible and catch up on kisses expeditiously. In fact, expect a knock on your office door.  Love,  Your wife

From: [email protected] Subject: Didn't Notice Ijichi's P.S.

Dear Nanami, and Ijichi because you're reading these, He sat on my bunny plushie yesterday. He flattened her. I'm mad again. Hate, YN P.S. Hair mask rights have been revoked. Buy your own.

From: [email protected] Subject: Thank You, Ijichi

Dear wife and Peeping Tom colleague, You have no appreciation for the work I put in to get back into my wife's good graces. All your disclaimers about simply doing your job were clearly written in deceit since your gossiping self could not resist prying. Do not think I haven't overheard you collecting bets on why she was mad at me in the break room. Please expect Gojo's presence in your office with some new, overbearing task soon. You're welcome. Worst wishes (to Ijichi), Nanami Kento And nothing but love (to my wife), Ken

From: [email protected] Subject: Don't Read This One, Ijichi

Ken, You're so hot when you're all assertive. Wanna get strike three? Preferably in your office, on your desk? Gojo can distract everyone for an hour...or two. Lust, Your Wife

From: [email protected] Subject: Don't Keep Me Waiting

Sweetheart, Door's open.

From: [email protected] Subject: I Am Not A Peeping Tom

I hate you both and you deserve each other. Regrettably, Ijichi Kiyotaka

From: [email protected] Subject: Freakyyyy

Dear Nanami, YN, and my favourite Peeping Tom, This is what happens in the office? Wow, maybe I should get a desk job (lol that's probably what Nanami's getting right now, lucky guy). Can't believe I was slaving away, keeping the world safe, and you two were slacking off and getting it on. I'm expecting a baby Nanami soon. Make me the godfather pls pls pls Stay sexy, The Strongest P.S. Can I watch? P.P.S. I’m kidding P.P.P.S. …Unless?

[tonycries]

Closer - N.K.

Synopsis. By day, Nanami Kento is the perfect husband. Devoted. Loving. A gentle father to your two children. By night, he’s aching to stuff you pregnant with your third. CóckbIocked. Ravenous. Just waiting for the moment he can go…full-on beast mode.

Pairing. Nanami Kento x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem!reader, husband!Nanami, married life, domesticity, Papamin, Yuji and Choso cameos, interruptions, cóckbIocked by your oblivious sons, slight edgíng, 5 +1 things if you squint, FÉRAL Nanami, oraI (fem rec.), face-ríding, manhandIing, spítting, chokíng, fíngering, ROUGH s, cervíx kíssing, all over the house, big Ds, P TALKING, BRÉEDING, mentions of kids, matíng presses, creampíes, cúmpIay, MARATHONS, heavy overstím, CÚMFLATION, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 16.1k

A/N. Based on the manga ‘By Day, a Devoted Husband. By Night, Full-on Beast Mode’ by The Waidan.

T-minus 5 days until the long weekend.

“Reading journal…pencil case…extra cap…” You’re rifling through the essentials stuffed inside your energetic son’s backpack. He was five already, and reaching that age where he just insisted he could do all those ‘big boy’ things by himself. “Hm…I think you have everything-”

“Really? Yippee—” Yuji’s pumping his fist in the air, before he’s immediately tugging the Spiderman-covered bag out of your hands and darting towards the open door. “Okay, momma- myfriendsareheregottogoloveyoubye-”

You watch after the blur of Spiderman and orange t-shirt in a slight daze, “Ah- right. I love you, b-” Before…you just slightly turn your head to the side, and in your peripheral vision you see- “Wait! Yuji, you forgot your-”

A hand on your hip. A strong figure by your side.

“Yuuuji—” A stern yet warm voice echoes, stopping the boy in his tracks in a split-second. “You’ve forgotten your lunch box, sunshine.” And towards the blond-haired man, you turn your head appreciatively.

Nanami Kento.

Your husband.

His overlarge palm cupped the side of your hips, and you’re only glad that Yuji couldn’t see from there the way that Nanami gives you a good squeeze—

“Kento-” With a breathy whisper, you’re swatting at Nanami’s chest. Right in-between his prominent pecs, where Nanami’s usual office shirt was pulled tightly over his broad front, buttoned up like a gift- and even then, you glimpse slivers of his white undershirt peaking out.

Nanami was just so naturally chiselled, in all the years you’ve known him. And you could swear that he’d only grown more built since expanding your family, with more hands-on labor - you guessed there was no better gym than a house with two children.

Slightly leaning up to him, you’re biting back a smile to mutter. “Yuji’s going to see.”

Nanami only softly chuckles, walking out through the front door to meet his son halfway. Dutifully, Yuji turns around so that his father can re-pack that haphazard bag of his, squeezing the (also) Spiderman-patterned lunch box inside. 

The boy pouts, “I pwomise I packed it.”

“Mmm, I believe you.” He replies, with just a slight hint of amusement. And once Nanami was done zipping up Yuji’s backpack, he turns his son around and crouches down to meet him at eye-level. “But, next time, how about we double check, sunshine? Just to make it easier on poor momma?”

Yuji considers it for a second- “Okay!” Before he runs back down the smooth, grey-stoned pathway leading up to your cozy lil’ house. 

Nobara and Megumi were already waiting for him beyond your house gates, and they slightly balked as they watch their friend’s father stand to his full height afterwards. Marvelling at those huge shoulders. His towering height. The way that Nanami Kento was just so large that his hair seemed to form a coiled, golden halo in the morning sunlight. 

It casted shadows on his handsome, handsome features. Accentuating that kind smile of his, just the tiniest dimple at the end of his lips.

You couldn’t blame them - you were ogling him, too.

“You’re huuuuge, Mr. Yuji’s Dad.” Nobara squeaks, once Nanami has accompanied his son safely outside. She casts a tiny hand over her brows to shade it from the sun as she stares.

Nanami smiles shyly, and hastens to grip onto the lil’ handle at the back of Yuji’s backpack - likely to stop him from running into (soon) oncoming traffic, you knew what your son was like. “Why thank you, my dear. But you can just call me ‘uncle’ if you’d like-”

“Is your willy huge, too?” That question was, expectedly, asked by none other than Fushiguro Megumi. And you don’t have to look to know that the surly little boy was likely pointing, too.

Honestly- not even covering your mouth and gnawing down on the insides of your cheek can stop the bark of laughter from leaving you. Pwah! Your eyes crinkle into slits of amusement, and through them you’re catching the helpless look that your husband throws your way. Cornered by a vicious, merciless trio of elementary schoolers.

You’re waving your hand in front of him—a motion to just go on.

You wanted to see what he’d say (or not say). And Nanami just opens his mouth when-

“It is.” When all of a sudden, Yuji’s the one to pipe up with the long-awaited answer. Proudly, he’s turning to his laughing friends with his hands on his hips, “Once I needed to pee real bad when papa was showering, so I just went in and saw it- it’s huuu—”

“Look- look! The bus is coming.” Rapidly, Nanami claps his hand over Yuji’s mouth and diverts all attention towards the hounding yellow school bus that was crawling towards them now. Like an oversized caterpillar, of sorts, with the antenna and painted-on face in front to match.

And Nanami Kento was never a fan of these decorated school buses. Never a fan of those soulless blue eyes that a bus should honestly never have.

But right now it felt like the pearly gates of heaven had just opened.

He was bathed in warm relief, ushering the still-giggling trio inside the opening doors of the bus. With a kiss on his cheek goodbye, soon enough you and Nanami were waving off Yuji as he was ferried off to school. 

Leaving behind only his gap-toothed grin, the clouded fumes of the bus, and you sighing- “Well, it’s certainly a loud morning.” You’re turning to Nanami, who was still slightly pale from the- ahem…discussion before. “You know, he’s already insisting on making his own school lunch? I just barely managed to keep it contained to packing only his school bag.”

Nanami snorts, “What- and survive on a pack of goldfish all day?”

“And the bugs from the playground, I don’t know why he keeps picking at those.”

Your husband throws an arm around your waist as you walk back to the house together. And his strong, heavy forearm almost seems reluctant to leave your body so that he can continue tying his work tie. 

From where it was left off earlier- “Strange child he is.” He loops it ‘round that collar of his, and your eyes watch the bob of Nanami’s throat - so unintentionally attractive. “Can you believe that he’s five already? And Choso’s about to start middle school, they’re growing up too fast.”

“They certainly are.” You hum, handing over Nanami’s neat briefcase once he’s done. “I almost miss when they were just so tiny, and I could pick them both up at once- oh, but I do love them as is.”

He huffs out lovingly, that dimple making an appearance once more. “I know what you mean perfectly, my love.”

It’s a comfortable affair retracing your steps back to the front door, like you had with Yuji earlier. Though much slower, much more…lingering. You’re hanging by the frame of the door as he steps out, and just before he was about to say his goodbyes—“You know- I wouldn’t mind doing it all over again.” Nanami damn near snaps his head turning back to face you, looking you dead-on in the eyes. “The children.”

Two fatal blows.

Nanami’s eyes widen. Nanami’s mouth drops, drier than the Sahara right now. A thin line of perspiration glides down his face. And you watch his body almost step all the way back inside the house. Nanami’s fingers tremble on his briefcase, and you watch it slightly slip- 

Before he’s managing to stop himself. 

Shaking his head, the blond-haired man retracts his step and clears his throat. “Is that-” Faltering, he has to do so again. “I mean- ahem, is that so, my darling? You wish to have another ch-child?”

Slightly bemused, you only nod.

But of course, Nanami is paying laser-focused attention to each of your words, your signals. And you can see the bump of his Adam’s apple gulp—as he takes in just what you were implying. Tightening his formal silk tie ‘round his throat, “Then I believe, ah…I believe we should perhaps discuss this a little more. For both our own goods. I’ll be back a little early tonight, and we’ll talk through the um- details, is that alright?”

“Sounds good to me—” You hum, not oblivious to the man’s shattering composure inside. Nanami Kento hid it well - always so stoic, always so sensible, always so respected in his work place. On more than one occasion, you’d gotten comments from tittering women that they only wished they could have a husband that held it together even half as much.

But as his wife you knew it all.

And you knew when there was a chance that this stoic, sensible, stern Nanami Kento was about to…break.

So without a single second of hesitation, your dominant hand reaches out to grab him by the tie- simultaneously straightening it at the middle of his chest and dragging Nanami’s head down to meet yours in a soft, soft kiss. Just the slow slide of your lips. Sensual. “I’ll see you then, Kento.” Murmuring against his lips, you pull away with a smile. “Can’t miss the daily kiss. Have a great day at work~!”

A smile that utterly kills him.

Your husband walks slightly stiffly all the way to the car. And with a final wave, he’s speeding off down the street as if getting to work sooner might just make the day end sooner, as well.

With a slight giggle, you head back inside.

.

.

.

T-minus 4 days until the long weekend.

Unfortunately, that ‘discussion’ had to wait until the day after, because Nanami’s workplace had been overdue on a few proposals (inconveniently misplaced by the new intern, and conveniently handed to your husband). And he’d ended up driving back home past 12AM, after you’d already put both the kids down to bed. 

With you so tired after a long day of taking care of the house and waiting up for him, how could he possibly even think of infringing on your precious hours any longer?

So all Nanami had done was clean himself up hastily, and carry you back to your shared bedroom where you’d been drowsing on the living room couch. Cuddling you to sleep. Promising that you’d talk about it the day after.

You understood, of course.

You and Nanami had been together for about twelve years, after all (if you wanted to know the exact date, down to the number of hours and minutes, you could ask him and he’d certainly remember). From lovers to a married couple, to being blessed enough to adopt Yuji and Choso when they were young.

Despite two bustling boys, you had to admit that yours and Nanami’s sex life hadn’t exactly died down.

Just a sneaky quickie before anyone woke up…perhaps getting handsy underneath the covers after a long day….And with Yuji now old enough to share a room with his older brother (they’d been begging for bunk beds for too long), you could finally start having sex at home again.

Perfect.

Right?

Except, well, it wasn’t exactly the same as it once was—

“N-ngh, fuck…” Your jaw drops open with a sloppy moan, saliva cascading out of you with a splosh! just as soon as Nanami’s stuffing you all the way to his hilt.

Here was the result of your ‘discussion’ tonight - if you could even call it that.

The trimmed golden hairs decoratin’ his base carnally scratch your clit, and you’re lewdly grinding yourself backwards. Every tiny movement leaves him stirring up your insides oh-so-perfectly, and your body wracks with shivers. “Please- please, Kento. S-start moving…”

“So needy.” Nanami’s crinkling his straight nosebridge as he stares you down, with your spine curved perfectly back into him. Those plump lips of his kiss a line down your back—long tongue coming out to taste your skin. “Missed you s’much. Fuck, you don’t know how much I missed you-”

And with that, he gives a heaving thrust that makes you gasp and grab at the rickety headboard. You could feel the plumpness of Nanami’s tip throb-throb-throbbing at your throat- “Missed you, too. Been wantin’ for you to- ngh, fuck me so bad, baby.”

“N’ that’s exactly what I’m about to do.” He’s smugly crooning out, the curvature of his shaft just lightly puckering up at your sweetest spots - Nanami had you mapped out exactly. 

Hard and fast.

Moving in slight bucks and grinds.

Smearing his reddened, swollen tip against your tender insides.

“Exactly about to fuh-fuck you until that pussy’s all satisfied.” The toned lines of Nanami’s hips rut into you like such an animal- and his meaty thighs push you further and further up the springy mattress. “To fill you up.” Leaving you whining wildly at his spears. “To pound a ba- mm.” Leaving you limp under his touch, leaving him reaching his hands over and cupping your tits so that he can manhandle you upright and at his mercy when-

KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK—!

“Momma? Papa?”

And that was exactly why it wasn’t the same as before.

You freeze instantly.

Tiny sniffles ring out from the other side of the door, and the locked door handle jingles to no avail. Yuji’s small, scared voice pipes up, “Momma, I frew up…”

You look at Nanami, and Nanami looks at you.

“Shit.”

“Shit-” 

He’s easing out of you with the loudest, messiest sluuuuurp—! Multiple ribbons of slick n’ precum combine to form a sheen that glues the insides of your thighs together, and you’re shivering at the feeling of his wide girth pulling out.

Letting off a slight noise of discontent as your walls clench emptily, cunt throbbing angrily for him to fuck you again. Your hips buck in primal instinct as you watch Nanami tuck himself back into his pants and put on his large shirt, though you have to hold yourself back - you were missing him already.

“Shhhh, shhh.” Nanami’s clammy palm rests down on your sticky thigh, and he’s carressin’ the skin there back and forth to soothe you. It works…somewhat. 

And you’re making to move off of the bed, “I’ll get-”

“No, let me.” Firmly, he’s pinning you back down just with that singular, clammy palm plastered to your thigh. Just that show of his strength is enough to make your glistening hole throb once more- and you’re forced to bite down on your lower lip to stop yourself from making a noise. 

He lovingly taps your leg, and lets the bedframe creak in agony after him (you felt much the same). Nanami hums, “I’ll take care of it. You just get some rest, my darling. You did so well.”

You’re burying yourself underneath the soft covers as the spike of light from the hallway enters the room. Nanami - fully softened now, fully shook of the shreds of carnal desire within him - opens the doorway to crouch in front of his teary son. “Let’s get you cleaned up and I’ll read you a bedtime story, how about that, sunshine?”

The pink-haired boy nods, “Mhm!”

By the time he got back, you were peacefully slumbering away. 

Nanami Kento only fixed the straps of that cute nightgown you were donning once more, snuggling up to you underneath the covers with the half-asleep promise of a proper (proper, this time) discussion tomorrow.

.

.

.

T-minus 3 days until the long weekend.

Nanami Kento was hungry.

Famished.

Absolutely ravenous.

He’d made it only two steps after getting home early from work. Inside your sweet-smelling kitchen, the scent of vanilla and summer heat in the air- before your strong husband was sprawling you out across the marble counters and lavishing his long tongue down the side of your cheek.

Swirlin’ tastebuds licking away the smudges of cream on your skin, “Mmm—” Nanami’s groaning against the side of your face, his scorching breath simmering against your flesh. “Something smells…” His fingers slipping down between your trembly legs- “-sweet, darlin’.”

And before you know it - fuck, before you can even think of it - you’re gnawing down on the edge of his plush deltoid. 

Your moans cracking at the back of your throat as he’s slipping his way inside, the deliciously curved tip of his cock stuffs against the roof of your cunt. Burrowing out a bruise there that makes your eyes roll to the back of your skull, “Shit- I swear you become bigger- ngh, every time.”

“Mmm, that’s because this pretty pussy’s been missing me too much.” He breathily chuckles, a slight hitch in his breath as your sloppy walls clench. “Probably harder for her to take me every time.”

“No no, I swear—” With a whine, you’re arching your back in a signal for him to rover past your folds even deeper. Teeth setting on edge once one of Nanami’s thick veins grope into your slobbery insides, stretchin’ out your cunt to his sheer size.

He was being so gentle. He was being so loving. He was absolutely ruining your pussy on his half-thrusts- just trying to fit inside.

Probe after probe, the slippery line of his slit leaves your mouth watering. The perfect crevice that renders you babbling away stupidly, “I swear you get even bigger whenever we- hck! talk about—ngh.”

“Yeeees?” There was something wild in your husband’s eyes, boring down at you through his clammy blond strands. It was just so fuckin’ cute the way that you lost your train of thought anytime Nanami’s length went mazing inwards- “Whenever we talk about what, my love? Haaaah, finish your sentences.”

As he tuts you’re gasping—and he knows exactly what you’re alluding to. “Whenever we t-talk about-”

“Mhm—?”

Drooling mouth snapping open, he’s bottoming out. “Ba-” Directly hitting your cervix with the crowned, globular end of his shaft. So, so reddened with need. “Bab-”

“Momma—? Papa—?” A voice calls out, young and painfully oblivious to what was obscured in the kitchen. In the distance, you could hear the slamming of the front door. 

A bag being set down on the table.

Footsteps.

Choso’s voice echoes out once more when he doesn’t receive an answer, unused to not having his parents respond to him immediately. You could hear the slight pout in his voice even from here- “Can one of you help me with my homework—?” 

Mercifully, Choso doesn’t enter the kitchen - instead, keeping himself confined to the television room where he was starting to set out his school books. Choso doesn’t take a peak at where you’d urgently disjointed yourself from Nanami, smoothing down your upturned skirt and taking a look at the clock-

“Oh my goodness, I forgot his art classes were cancelled today- it’s time already.” You gasp, reading the ticking face of the clock that knew what you two just did.

Apologetically, you’re whipping your face around to face Nanami - who was back to tucking his softened length inside in a way that reminded you of just last night. Despite the slight furrow between his blond brows, Nanami shakes his head understandingly. “S’just time.” He grunts, zipping his pants back up and wiping away the droplets of sweat on his forehead. Your husband kisses your temple, “We’ll find some other time, my love?”

“Mhm.” Heart fluttering at the soft peck, you watch as his hulking frame walks out of the kitchen to help Choso with his homework. “We will…”

Though, a part of you doubted you might.

But you hoped.

.

.

.

T-minus 2 days until the long weekend.

“Fuck…” Nanami’s peering down at you through partially-cracked lids, and from down here it looked as if his molten peripherals were almost made of fire. 

Burning straight at you underneath his professional work desk. Trying for al his will not to flutter them shut at the feeling of your lavish tongue gliding down his cock—“Fuck, my love- that mouth of yours is absolute sin.”

He’d been wading through some important work documents before you’d ambushed him in his office. Before you’d simply dropped to your knees and fumbled with his shorts like you were a woman starved.

Lappin’ all over his thick, throbbing like the shiniest of lollipops.

Lick after lick.

Your saliva-glazed muscle flattens over the top of his cock for a few seconds. “Mmm—” You’re vibratin’ out your moans against his length, and it sends sparks travelling all the way down from the line underneath Nanami’s plum-colored tip. Where your husband’s shaft was just dribbling out hot wires of pre down to your tastebuds, puddlin’ all over. “Tastes sho, mmm, nice-”

“Oh- fuck!” His head falls back against the back of his chair, and you catch the way that Nanami’s Adam’s apple bobs at the feeling of your greedy tongue.

Just that sensual ridged texture- fuck, it was all that he could think about. A carnal scratch. The way you were flopping it right out into his most sensitive spots, drag-drag-draaaagging it along his elongated length. 

Nanami’s right hand comes down to grip his base, and you’re whining as he lifts his shaft off of your open tongue. With a chuckle, he’s placing his cock side-by-side with your face- and your cunt throbs at the fact that his nine, massive inches looked incredible up so closely.

So sensually rubbin’ his girthy hilt up and down the corner of your mouth. Just teasing.

Up and down. Up and down. Up and down—

“Shouldn’t be saying these dirty things with such a s-sweet mouth, y’know?” Nanami tuts, merely lining the edge of your lips with a gloss of your pre. He was so hot and syrupy—practically melting against where your tongue was darting out to try n’ taste him even more. “Should control yourself- what if- fuck.”

“Mmm—” Moaning, you’re managing to press his rotund tip against the middle of your tongue once more, starting to suck.

“What if you say those things and- oh, you’re too loud, hm?” He prattles away still, mouth working overtime whilst you stuffed yours. And yet…and yet even disciplined Nanami Kento couldn’t stop himself from bucking off of his cushiony chair, “What if- haaaah, if you’re too loud and the boys hear-”

“Momma—! Papa—!”

KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK—!

Nanami groans, “-us.”

Ah, well…you’re removing yourself from Nanami’s still-twitching cock. Red-hot. Rock-hard. 

He was so needy that just wrenching yourself off with a wettened plop! makes Nanami’s hips chase the soft insides of your mouth, a translucent wad of precum spraying out of him instantly.

And as he looks down at you with a dismal face, you’re managing out a smile. “I’ll go see what it is.” And Nanami Kento thinks that he might as well pass out before any ‘next time’- because you’re pressing a chaste peck to his mushroom tip, and pulling his shorts up. “Next time, Kento.”

Nanami puts his face in his hands and lightly groans.

With a huffed giggle, you’re sauntering your way out of the office - knowing damn well just how intensely his eyes were locked on the sway of your hips. The way your thighs were more clenched than before.

“Alright-” Unlocking the firmly-shut door (thank goodness for Nanami’s foresight), you’re met with the tear-stained face of your oldest son. Snot-faced and bawling. 

Your brows raise right up to your hairline as you take in the vision of your usually-calm Choso, turning your sights to his (only slightly tear-stained) younger brother beside him. Yuji, who hurries to explain what his brother couldn’t- “I wanted bubba’s comics but bubba wanted bubba’s comics, so then we got into a- um, ah…” Slightly squirming underneath your stare, your boys knew you hated when they fought. “-scuffle, and then I got bruised.”

He raises a chubby hand up, and you can easily spot the faint blue-ish mark on his forearm.

Yuji looks at Choso, “But bubba’s the one crying.”

And that was being generous, Choso was all but choking on his sobs. Taking one look at the bruise you were appraising - the place where he’d either directly or indirectly hurt his little brother - and bursting into peels of cries all over again. “I’m so- so- sor- wahhhh—”

“Aaaaalrighty then-” You hasten to pick up your oldest boy, with slight exertion due to his size. Though when you finally do succeed in hoisting him onto your hip, he wraps his arms around your neck and buries his wet face into it. “Now, how about we go downstairs and make ourselves a cup of hot chocolate, hm?” It seems to calm Choso down a bit. “Maybe we can even watch a movie- a movie night?”

“Yippeeee—” Yuji squeals, arms raised as if he wanted to be carried, too. “Me as well?”

“All of us.” Comes a deep voice, and Nanami’s finally making his way out of the office. Having calmed himself down, he carries his younger son and places an innocent peck on your temple.

Choso gags, “Bleh!” Whilst Yuji only giggles - and despite the slight embarrassment coursing through your body at your husband’s obvious loving gesture, you were glad to have Choso express anything other than sadness.

You’re starting to walk as a family, “Now, who’s up for some Kpop Demon Hunters?”

“Meeeee–!”

.

.

.

T-minus 1 day until the long weekend.

“Fuck-”

“Kento-”

“Fuck, just a bit-” He’s hotly whispering into your shoulder, blond strands tickling your skin once Nanami’s jerking his hips back and rutting them into yours. You could feel his thick, throbbing erection against the globes of your ass cheeks - so hard by now that you could count every throb.

Ba-dump.

Ba-dump.

Ba-dump-

And with every furious pulsation, he’s jerking his pelvis forwards- almost thrusting. Dry humping you like an animal in heat. “Just- just a little bit.” So rough that the sheer force leaves you bending even deeper against the dining table, and Nanami has to loop his greedy hands underneath your body n’ jerk you backwards. Push. Pull. “Just want to feel you a little bit- haaah- my love.”

“You’re being so- oh.” Even though you both still had your clothes on, Nanami’s pryin’ aside those flimsy panties of yours to let his bulge smear against your naked cunt. “-so insatiable, Kento.”

And with a few more vulgar strokes, he’s finally answering. “Couldn’t stop thinking of you all day- no, all week, darlin’. I’ve been running into that damned office bathroom to fuck my fist like some- ngh, fuckin’ teenager all week now.” 

“Oh, Ken—” With a mewl, you’re grinding your hips backwards- but the friction just wasn’t enough.

Just wasn’t the feeling of his incredible cock splitting apart your insides, and the way that you knew he could fill out your every orifice so perfectly leaves you wanting more, more, more. So without thinking much - without thinking at all, really - you’re whipping your body back around.

Nanami grunts at the loss of contact with your drippin’ wet core- only for a brief moment before he realizes what you’re really trying to do. And the blond-haired man eagerly leans his hips forwards when you start to fuss with the buttons n’ zippers on his trousers.

“Shit-” Impatient, you thrust your hand directly down his pants, and Nanami throws his head back with a sultry shiver at the feeling of your ravenous palm. 

Accurately cupping his swollen erection, you feel him splurge out a slimy wad of pre at the mere touch. Just so sensitive. “We’re gonna hafta to be quick.” You’re murmuring, back to fiddling with his buttons. Pop! Pop! “Before they come back-”

SLAM!

“Momma, what’s for dinner?”

Pop!

The last of Nanami’s buttons are torn open- right before they’re forced back shut at the sound of your sons entering the home. It’s a team effort by the both of you, and you’re just barely putting your rumpled clothes back in place, making sure anything was covered, ready to act like everything was normal before-

“Oh, shit.” Your eyes drop back down to the place between your husband’s legs. 

His erection had softened by now, and there was absolutely nothing out of the ordinary…except for the massive stain of syrupy slick that’d been left by your grinding, gyrating cunt. It darkens the beige fabric of Nanami’s trousers like a puddle, glistening in the yellowish yolky lighting of the kitchen. Your hands are on him immediately - though, not like earlier. “Shit, Kento, you’re going to have to go-”

“Go?” Nanami balks, but he doesn’t resist when you start pushing him out of the second entrance to the kitchen. “Go where?”

The house you’d chosen for your family was one of those large, more open plans; and the kitchen itself had one entrance for those who accessed the house by normal means, and then one more entrance that opened up to the bottom of the house’s staircase. Ones that you lead him up the first few steps of, “Go change those pants!” You squawk. “I tell them that you’re- I don’t know, showering, or something!”

“Good thinking, my love.” He chuckles, clearly finding amusement in your panicked charge. With his palms raised in surrender, he’s making his way up- though, not before landing a peck on your forehead once more.

“Now!”

“Aye aye, my madam.”

Nanami (and his stained trousers) just barely makes it out of the kitchen before the boys walk into the kitchen, mud-stained and slightly out of breath still.

“Cho!” You’re admonishing before they’re able to take their seats, “How many times have I told you not to put your skateboard on the dining table? We eat there.”

“Yes, momma.” The dark-haired boy recites, listening to what you were saying and placing it on the floor. As he kicks it out of the kitchen, he turns to you and asks- “Where’s papa?”

Turning your back to your sons, you’re fussing over the dishes set on the kitchen counter now - what you were doing before you’d been…interrupted, that is. “Papa wanted to take a shower, it was getting a bit ah- hot in here.”

“This time of year?” Choso raises a brow, but doesn’t question it any further.

“Anyways-” You hasten to change the subject, “-why are you boys in so early today? Papa and I had just barely gotten started on dinner.”

And at this, Yuji jumps up in his seat- eyes sparkling as he slams his hands down on the table. “Oh, momma, you’ll never believe it. So Nobara said she had to go to some dentwist’s appointment and Megumi was feeling sick- so I went with bubba’s friends but then we decided to do some exploring- and then there was also this ice cream truck that—”

And so it went on. By the time that Yuji was done with his (condensed for your enjoyment, according to him) version of events, Nanami was back downstairs in a new pair of unstained trousers. The two of you quickly wrapped up dinner preparation, and used the boys’ help to set out the food.

In less than an hour or so, you were all seated around the rectangular table.

Nanami beside you, and your sons in front of you.

“So-” And, to your surprise, he’s the one starting off the conversation. Dinner always was quite a lively event with the four of you, with either you or Yuji being the ones that dominated the nightly discussions most days.

But to have Nanami be the one to start off? It must be something quite important…

So you all turned towards him, excited to see what he had to say.

He gulps down a bite of rice, and continues. “Remember that starting tomorrow there’s a long weekend, my loves. Monday is a holiday.” Nanami addresses all of you, in that soft tone that always makes you melt. Yuji cheers at the mention of such a thing- “It’s rare that we get a treat like this to be together, and I wanted to know what you all wanted to do on those days?”

“I’m fine with anything.” You hum, turning to Yuji and Choso.

“Something fun.” Choso stares off into space ponderously, “Maybe like to the park? Or a resort?”

You nod, “Fancy, I like it. And what about you Yuji?” 

And, dear little Yuji - who’d been so patiently waiting for his turn to speak, who oh-so-sweetly hadn’t wanted to speak over anyone else - simply just burst. “Joypolis!” He stands up on his seat, and you don’t even have the heart to tell him to sit back down properly. Chanting, “Joypolis! Joypolis! I want to go to Joypolis—”

Choso’s eyes light as well, excitedly- “Oh- oh, can we?” Turning to face the two of you with pleading eyes.

And, of course, you’re turning to exchange a look with Nanami.

“Of course!”

You’re humming thoughtfully, “And since it’s for a few days, I’d heard of this really nice resort nearby that I think would be a nice place to stay at? We could make it a long stay for Saturday and Sunday, and come back on Monday morning.”

Expectedly, Yuji bursts into even more cheers.

“It’s settled then-” Nanami speaks over the cacophony of voices- and what was clearly not settled were the two boys, who were having trouble listening to your calls to not jerk the table lest they wanted to splash over the food. “Kids, listen to your momma.” Until, finally, some semblance of silence broke through—“We’re going to Joypolis.”

“Yippeeeee—!”

“Hell yeah-”

“Cho, language…”

Nanami chuckles, about to say something more about the plans for the weekend when- 

BZZZZZZZZZZZ—!

In your peripheral, you see Nanami reach into his pocket and pull out his phone. Clearly, you imagine, it must be something important for him to forgo (his own) rule about no devices during dinner time. And you’re watching on in slight curiosity-

“Oh.” Nanami’s mouth slightly parts, a somewhat surprised expression dazzling his face. The longer the phone call goes on, the more dazzled he grows. “Oh?”

By then, even Choso and Yuji had quietened down. And you’re tugging on his elbow in slight concern, “Something the matter, Kento?”

He’s shaking his head, attention still on the call. “Oh?” Perhaps unable to communicate anything more eloquent, whoever was on the other end of the line seemed to have said something that made one of his blond brows raise. And for his tongue to finally work, “Have the kids stay overnight?”

.

.

.

T-minus 0 days until the long weekend.

In other words: 9 hours and 17 minutes into the long weekend.

Also in other words: 9:17AM, Saturday.

According to what you, Yuji, and Choso had derived from your instant interrogation after Nanami had set down the phone- it seems that your mother-in-law had won a raffle just that day. The prize? Tickets to a two-night trip to the hot springs of Oita. 

Three of them - and she claimed that she didn’t want to spend the holiday with her friends who couldn’t move as well as they were once able to. Might as well give the kids the time of their life, huh? There was much to see in Oita, and they were practically bouncing out of their seats once Nanami had announced the change in plans - neither had been upset about the postponement of Joypolis, either!

With their sheer excitement, the two of you had trouble setting them down for bed. And they’d been jumping on yours like a trampoline before the clock had even hit five-

“After all—” Nanami’s mother had crooned, her eyes wrinkling prettily at the ends as she smiled - Nanami had her eyes, and her smile. The very same dimple at the end of her lips, “-it’s a lot of work taking care of kids, isn’t it? Oh, I was blessed to have one as sensible as Kento, but even then…”

“Certainly is.” You’re chuckling, setting the boys’ luggage down inside her house - one lil’ Spiderman suitcase, and another that was just pitch-black in color (it’d been a long night sorting and packing).

She’s nodding her greying-blonde head, “It’s important that the two of you spend some time together, too. Can’t forget that you’re lovers, as well as parents.” Looking towards your husband, who was firmly giving Choso instructions on how to keep him and his brother safe throughout all times of the trip. 

You can feel your veins bubble up, and hope that the sinful evidence of these past few days don’t show up in your expression. “Th-that’s true, it’s quite important to have time for each other.”

“Besides- I’m sure the children don’t mind spending some time with their grandma, hm?” As Nanami finishes off his lecture, your two sons run towards their grandma and hug her tight- agreeing in tandem. 

“I can’t wait for the hot springs! Bubba says he’s going to teach me cool new swim tricks, grandma-”

“That are within papa’s safety guidelines.” Choso gulps, feeling his father’s burning stare already. “And all end up with the both of us, as well as grandma, coming home to mama and papa safe and sound and perfectly alright. With no limbs missing and also no ugly souvenirs- only pretty ones, because momma deserves only the prettiest ones.” He recites, beaming back at Nanami’s bemused expression. 

Your husband stands next to you and shrugs at your deadpan gaze. 

With delighted laughter, Nanami’s mother looks up at the two of you. There was a somewhat knowing look in her eye- “You two don’t mind, do you?”

You glance at Nanami.

Nanami glances back.

You know you’re both thinking the same thing.

In unison—

“I-if you insist!”

.

.

.

10:08AM, Saturday.

A tender goodbye.

A hasty drive home.

A slam! of a door that you’re only later recognizing as your home door.

You could barely even remember anything before you’re suddenly back inside your home and turning to Nanami with a meaningful, “Kent-”

His lips are on you instantly.

Teeth clawing.

Moaning.

Ravenous.

“Fuck- shit, you’re so—” You’re languidly gliding your hands down Nanami’s front, feeling the way his ripped muscles ripple n’ flex through his thin shirt.

And Nanami’s panting so hard that every scorching breath simmers against your face, and as you speak- your husband’s gripping you easily by the back of the throat to re-slot your mouth over his. Unable to even speak past his crashing, open-mouthed kisses. 

You’re whining as you tug down on his cold belt buckle, “Kento- mmpf, I want- fuck.”

And before you know it, you’re being pushed against the closest flat surface that Nanami Kento can find. You’re being shoved against the wall. You’re being pinned by the strength in his hips- grinding the raging hot erection already between his legs.

“Hngh, fuck.” You’re hearing him snarl in a ragged tone behind you, kissing your neck, your shoulder, down the length of your spine. “Fuck- fuck- fuck- fuck.” Each one was faster than the last, smooch after smooch after smooch, and there’s a dull thud! ringing out across the empty house when Nanami’s knees finally hit the floor.

“Oh my-” Shivering once his roughened fingertips latch onto your easy skirt n’ flips it upwards. You’re left practically bare, with only your flimsy cotton panties on as he holds up your skirt and shoves his handsome face nose-deep between your folds.

From behind.

Letting the straight edge of his nose bridge plap against your cunt, your jaw drops once you feel your husband filthily breeeeeeathe in—“Fuh-fuck, darling.”

Your knees feel weak already, “Kento, are we really just going to do this over here-”

“No.” Comes Nanami’s guttural mutter and oh…by the husky need in that tone, you already know that he’s far from sane. Already gone. “No, not at all.”

“Really?” Brows slightly raising, you almost want to look back- when another one of Nanami’s hands reach over and flip your restless body around. It doesn’t take him much to manhandle you with his incredible strength. 

Your back against the wall. Your glistening cunt facing his mouth.

You’re still standing up. But one of your legs is being picked up and thrown over his broad shoulders, now you’re being held up with partially his support - mostly his support, you imagine.

And it’s with this position that he can take a goooood, long look at your pussy. Your puffy folds spreadin’ open. Your hole clenching around nothing. She was just so dripping wet with your honeyed sap, streaming right down your thighs—“No- don’t you worry, darling.” He mutters, and you wonder just who he’s talking to - you or your pussy, right now.

“Don’t worry, because…?” You’re babbling out.”

“Because-” Nanami’s gusting out with his hot, sticky breath clinging to your cunt. And he’s leaning in closer, closer, so much closer. Until the curve of his attractive chin edges towards the end of your cunt, “-because m’gonna take you here.”

And then your body flinches with a shock of pleasure as he leans his plump lips in and presses a firm peck to the front of your pussylips.

Sloppy and wet.

“And on the dining room table-” Mwah! “And in my office-” Mwah! “The kitchen-” Mwah! “And the- fuck, the bedroom-” He’s snarling, dimpled lips curling as he sniffs your sweet folds once more. “-gonna take you all over the fuckin’ house-”

All those promises - he can’t even finish them before your husband, Nanami, has his face stuffed between your pretty legs and his tongue lapping your cunt like a madman.

Darting to every slippery nook and crevice that his tastebuds can reach- first he’s sliding up n’ down your folds, lapping up the ounces of slick that spray out of you. “Mmmm—” His head throws backwards- or, at least, it tries to. Before that dark, carnal part of Nanami’s own self manages to stop himself, and his quavering hand guides one of yours to grab onto his blond scalp.

“Roughly.” Nanami gasps between your wet pussylips, his drool drenching it in a whole new layer of gluey liquid for him to taste. 

Your mouth gapes, “You want it…”

The veins on his large hands pop out as he tightens your fist on his hair, “Roughly.”

Finally letting go of your smaller hands, Nanami’s then holding onto both sides of your waist- practically glued. Pushing and pinning you back down against the cold wall when his tongue slithers out.

So loooooong and lucious, he’s tingling your tastebuds over your swollen clit. “Mmm- mmpf-” Gurgling, gulping, swallowing the cloying wads of syrup that dripped to the back of his throat and alllll over the lower half of his face.

He’s grunting, “So sweet so- fucking- fuck- sweet.” You could feel your husband’s wet lips flapping away at your nub, before they’re finally parting and plunging between your pussylips like he was possessed. “Never gonna get used to this. This pussy- she’s the- hah, sweetest thing I’ve ever fuckin’ tasted- and I think I might just be addicted-”

“Shit- ngh.” You’re clawing at his sweaty scalp for dear life, because Nanami Kento was usually such a gentle lover. Usually so smooth. So slow. But now…“Oh my god- I don’t even want to ask what’s gotten into you today- fuck.”

It takes him a few vulgar strikes with his tongue to even think of responding- to even formulate a coherent enough answer.

And it’s only with a sloppy mwah! that he’s bringing himself to part with your dewy cunt, just the most lecherous damp noise ringing out in the air. When Nanami speaks out, it’s with his ribbons of saliva departing into your quivering hole. “Can you fucking blame me?”

Oh. Your eyes widen, “You- you really are-” Fuck, but his sloppy tastebuds are back to drilling into your entrance. His scratchy tastebuds plaster against the roof of your cunt, back n’ forth. “You really are pussydrunk? But the thing is- already?”

It’s easier for Nanami to detach himself from your damp pussy- with his two thumbs swervin’ down, he’s smearing apart your folds and spitting straight inside your hole once more. “Can- you- fucking- blame- me-”

It wasn’t even a question, and his lengthy tongue probes between your folds after each word. Slipping straight into your deepest depths, with the curvaceous tip of his muscle sticking in, in, in.

Again and again.

Preeeeeeessing into every depth, “Can you fucking imagine what I’ve been going through these- hah, these past days without you?”

“N-no?” His carnal strokes make you throw your head back with a whine, tears starting to bead behind your eyelids. “What have you been- fuck, you’re going in so deep, Kento.”

Though Nanami doesn’t even seem to hear you- “How can you blame me-” Like a mantra, he’s muttering between those swollen pussylips of yours, eating you out so raw that even the slightest movements of his lips make you see stars. “How can you blame me- hah, how can you blame me, how can you blame me—ngh.” The flatness of his sizzlin’ tastebuds moves back and forth into the roof of your cunt, making itself well at home there. “Not when I haven’t had dessert for a week now-”

“Haven’t had dessert?” You’re questioning, your senses slightly hazed by his ministrations between your legs. Is that what he’s been talking about going through? “What do you mean, baby, just last night for dinner we had-”

“No.” He says, meaningfully. And Nanami looks up at you straight in the eyes when he’s spreadin’ that wet muscle of his wiiiide open and probin’ into your hole- “I mean…dessert.”

Your back arches off of the wall, a perfect curvature. “Dessert-”

Your pussy. 

Your mewling whines are cut off by the feeling of him pulling out of your cunt with a wet plunge, strings of your slick following his movements n’ still connecting his mouth to your core. There was something crazed in Nanami’s hazy peripherals, something utterly gone. “Yes.” He spits for the nth time into your cunt, swervin’ right past your folds. Pinning you down whilst you try to run, “Don’t you fucking run- don’t you fucking know that she’s my favorite dessert, darlin’?”

And then you sob. With a loud, primal sluuuuurp—Nanami’s splittin’ you apart from the inside.

“And I’ve been without her for too long, my wife.” Perfectly molding your channel to him, the cushy tips of his fingers open your entrance up- and oh, he’s digging them deeeeply into your tiniest orifices. Scissoring in a second finger as if it already wasn’t enough to have his thick joints pushing your insides apart. “How can a husband be expected to go so long without his wife’s pretty pussy?” Gently nibblin’ on your clit, “I’ve missed her.”

“I’ve missed this mouth of yours.” You don’t think you’ll ever get used to just how big his size was, the blustering crowns of his two fingerpads opening up your insides. He filled up every cranny- “Fuck, keep going.”

“You have no idea how- hahhh—” Nanami emits a breathy laugh, like he was in utter disbelief at his own self. And you watch as your husband’s jaw hangs open to collect the glittery wads of slick that constantly leak out of you, “-how fucking thirsty I’ve been. I would eat the sweetest sundaes after work- remember the ones I bought for us? Fuck, just imagining that was you.”

You’re shivering at his admission- he’d what?

But Nanami wasn’t done yet - in fact, he was only lapping away his tongue even harder. And when you get used to the caress of his velvety underside, he’s spanking it down on your clit. “Just wishing that was you on my tongue- but nothing would even come as close.” He gasps, “So now that I have you, oh, I could drink from this pretty pussy for aaaaages with how parched I am.”

You’re tugging at his hair, and Nanami only directs you to pull at him even rougher. To use him. Teasing, “And here I thought that large water tumbler of yours was enough-”

“Oh, my love, it’s not even close to enough- look at this-” You’re being guided to look down at the ropes of sap that he was tunneling out of you- chin hitting your chest. After each movement of his fingers, your slick glazes his wrist in splats. 

Sensually, he’s ducking his head down to lick off the polish on his skin. Gleaming like glitter, Nanami moans when the candied taste hits his tongue- “You’re like a fucking waterpark f’me. And I’ve- hah, I’ve been dreaming about her for ages now. Been hungry. Been imagining-”

Lapping and probin’. A third crowned tip rovers inside and starts pushing in and out with the others, “Yes- yes yes yes yes-”

“I’ve had to run to the fucking- ngh, office bathroom more times than I can count.” He admits, spittling between your lips. “All because I spent a whole meeting imagining just how wet you’d feel on my tongue, mmm, like this.” 

You’re crying out, bucking your hips into his- and though he might’ve usually pinned your squirming hips down for moving, teasing, now…now Nanami was welcoming those half-ruts. “More- deeper-”

“And look how eeeeeasy I can slip in-” With a final cobweb of saliva, he’s trying to pry inside a fourth finger—managing. 

Nanami’s prolonged length empties out right near your cervix with harsh thuds, you could tell that he was searching for that sweet spot inside you. 

Babbling away, Nanami seemed to be getting even more drunk on your pussy with each passing second. “Wanted to feel you dripping like this- aaaaaall up in my throat- see- watch.” Your husband commands, and with your head turned down like this you can’t help but watch the way he takes a big swallow of your slick. With a messy glistening face, he grins up at you. “If you could possibly be any- ngh, any fuckin’ wetter then I’d want you to in a second.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been wetter in my life, Kento.” As if to prove your point, even more tear trails of your slick drip down - all for Nanami Kento’s munching delight, of course.

“…Yet.”

And you know one quality that attracted you to your husband the most? It was the fact that, no matter what, he would do what he promised. He would deliver.

Because with a few more sultry slams, his long index is burrowing into your g-spot. Perfectly. It’s as if that bundle of nerves was a target, and Nanami’s able to slide his trimmed nails right where you wanted him to.

Your knees bend limply as the pleasure hits you, and you wail. “Oh- there!” Too gone in your own bliss, he’s actually holding up your weight with one of his strong arms now, looped at your waist.

“Found it.” You can feel his grin against your entrance, “And you did get wetter, my love—”

And he’d found it, alright. Constantly thump-thump-thumpin’ away near the back of your pussy with his relentless fingers, Nanami made sure that the plush pads of his digits would then graze your nerves- making you twitch n’ whine n’ buck in pleasure maddeningly.

“I- I don’t think-” With one of your legs raised upon his shoulders, it was just so easy to squeeze Nanami’s bobbing throat. Almost suffocating him. You blurt, “I don’t think m’gonna last long, Kento-”

“Good.”

The firmness with which he says that one word makes your entire body quiver- and you don’t know whether it’s because of his purely carnal tone, or the way he slithers his fingers inside your cunt, presses down on your g-spot and holds it there.

Unmoving.

No matter how much you squirm or whine.

And Nanami doesn’t waste a single second before he’s immediately trying to topple you over the edge of your high, “Because you don’t have to.” He pants, “Your dear husband is here for a- hah, a reason, my wife. Don’t you know?”

“A- a reason.” You’re babbling, and you don’t know which one of you is more gone by this point.

You’re having trouble holding yourself up, and Nanami claps his chin against the end of your cunt with enough pressure to keep you standing straight. His tongue teasingly rolling out over your clit, “M’here to make you cum.” Push after push, thud! after thud! “Because don’t you know…”

“Don’t I know- fuck, don’t I know what?”

His grin is just sinful—“Don’t you know that you taste sweeter when you cum, my love?” Said in such a tender tone, even though the slashes of his fingers were anything but.

In next to no time, you’re gripping one hand into Nanami’s hair and the other onto his shoulders as you cum all over his mouth. It’s in invisible waves ridden straight from the tip of his nose n’ down to lacquer his chin with gleam, “C-cumming.” Even though he already knew, “M’cumming, Kento. Cum- fuck, s’the best I’ve ever had.”

“Mmm, why thank you, darling.” He’s crooning out lovingly, not even a hint of teasing as he takes it on. All your pushes and bucks- until the skin ‘round Nanami’s mouth was red and raw.

Until his jaw aaaaaached.

And yet, he’s still eating you out through your high, the sparks of bliss absolutely leave you shaking. Toes curled. The top of your crown feeling light and airy- “Think you’ve fucked me- ngh…” Stupid. Even though you don’t say it out loud…at least, you don’t think you do.

But Nanami puffs out a slightly drunken giggle between your pussylips as he hears that word leave your mouth - without you even knowing. Realizing. Dutifully, your husband doesn’t tease you as he plunges his tongue in n’ out, in n’ out. “C’mon- c’mon, c’mon- oh. I was right, you do taste so sweet.”

You’re whimpering as he pulls his fingers out, feeling your convulsing shockwaves peter out into almost nothing.

And even then, Nanami rolls his thick thumb over your clit a few times- just to watch you shake and whine prettily above him. “Done cumming?” He asks, once he feels your body go slightly wobbly. And when you nod- “But I really do wonder if you’d taste even sweeter if I overstim you a little, darling…”

“Oh my god-” Your chin drenches with the spittle that falls out of you unbeknownst to your subconscious, just so sensitive that they’re about the same as the tears dripping from your eyes. “I don’t know if I even can cum so soon again, Kento.”

“We’ll never know until we try.”

He’s tracing squelching wet—hearts?

It feels even more teasing than usual when Nanami’s fingers are toying with your clit, because right now he’s drawing the cutest patterns to watch you react. The way you flinch even more when he draws a big heart- and that cute hitch in your breath when it’s a little one.

“So cute…” Nanami groans, fingers nothing but a blur on your cunt. Spreadin’ you wide open, you can’t believe that your husband then has the audacity to bear his canines and gnaw down on your puffy pussylips. “So sweet-”

“Kento-” You bawl, the pleasure making your senses all bleary. “K-Kento-”

“Oho?” Those blond brows of his raise in interest, and through your tears you can make out the pinkish outline of his tongue coming out to taste his slick-glossed lips. Purring, “It tastes like you’re going to cum again, my love.”

And that’s exactly what you do.

Hard and fast. This one takes you by surprise, just a surge of white-hot electricity that shoots up your spine and leaves your thoughts all muddled.

And, just like before, he’s dragging you through it incredibly. Through every peak of euphoria. Through every flash of bliss every time his slurpin’ tongue accidentally slipped past your entrance when he was sucking you dry.

“Cum- fuck, I’ve already….” Mouth dry. Body shaking. By the time that Nanami’s lengthy tongue has finished lapping up every droplet of your slick, you’ve felt thoroughly fucked through your orgasm. You honestly wouldn’t even have been able to keep yourself standing had it not been for his unrelenting grip on you, refusing to let you fall.

You lean onto his support, feeling your joints protest at the long time you’d spent in this position. “Kento, now I really don’t know if I can cum any- hck! more.”

But Nanami Kento could read what you were saying without saying.

He knew you well enough.

And you knew he did.

Just because you didn’t know doesn’t mean he sure as hell wasn’t allowed to try.

In an instant, your husband’s pulling away—mwah! All that sloppy slick that he wasn’t able to swallow now drips all the way from the tops of his cheekbones, and all the way down his chin. Partly down his neck. Nanami then grips your hips with a loving, pussydrunken smile. “But, when I have a wife that looks like you, my darling, how can I not make you cum?”

Oh.

11:57AM, Saturday.

“Oh my g-god—” Your voice is cracking out in both sobs n’ whines, dribbling out saliva like slick as Nanami’s rutting his naked hips against the globes of your ass cheeks.

It’d taken your husband only a few minutes to manhandle you from the threshold of your house entrance down through the house. Having to hold you up where you were so overstimulated, he’d carried you princess-style. Where he’d pressed you face-down against the polished mahogany of your dining room table. 

All fours. Ass up. Cunt dripping.

You’d shivered as you heard Nanami’s pants hit the floor- his belt ending up in a heap with the rest of it with a loud clang! of metal on tile. And he was simply oooozing out thick pre at the sight of you bent over for him like this, just smearin’ it down your pussylips so that it looked like a gloss. “Mmm—” Nanami grunts out from behind you, his mouth watering at the hot feeling. “So pretty like this, my wife- fuck, so pretty.”

And you’re clawing onto the wood - trying not to make too much of a mess (you’ll have to disinfect this entire house, later) - as he just lightly smooooches your tight orifice with his mushroom tip. “Sh-shit- you’re so hard, Kento.”

“Mhm–” Nanami huffs out smugly- so drunk on his cock, you were craning your head over your shoulder to take a good look at him. “Admiring your husband?”

“Yes.”

In all his rock-hard glory. Nine entire inches.

Veins were zig-zagging down Nanami’s shaft, and they end where his sparse golden hairs start to decorate his hilt. He was just aaaaching to enter you- plump tip colored the prettiest shade of pink, almost as if his painful cock was almost shy to meet your cunt.

You can’t help but notice that it matched the blush creeping up on your husband’s ears, as he leans down and purses his lips to spit straight down to your cunt. Hitting his target dead-on, Nanami grins- “I wonder why we haven’t done it like this sooner, daring?” One of his hands attach to the side of your hips, and he’s just smearin’ apart your folds to take a good look inside. “Before me I see the tastiest fucking dinner I’ve ever seen-”

“Y-you’re so filthy, Kento.” You almost can’t even believe your ears, and you arch your back into his touch. Hamstrings quivering when you nudge your hips up into his, “Why don’t you just f-fuck me already- oh.”

“As you wish, my madam.”

Because he’s already entering you as you squeak out your demands - Nanami Kento was never a man that would leave his wife yearning and wanting, of course.

Anything you wanted, it was yours.

And the same went for his throbbing, hot cock- just the curved end of his shaft plops inside your elastic hole. Because of his sheer girth, Nanami doesn’t even have to try to push apart your tight pussylips - you’re already opening up lewdly for him.

With a cracked whine, your snug channel is gobbling his inches up with a sluuuuurp—making the blond-haired man raise his brows with a chuckle. “Oh- oh, my god.” He pants, breaths coming out ragged. “Ohhhh fuck- you’ve been needy, my wife.”

“I’ve been- hah, been what?” Pathetically, you can only turn your face ‘round to meet his and take it- because Nanami wasn’t letting you off easy just because he was rovering his thick cock inside.

No…in fact, he was pounding and pounding his flared tip past your tender orifice- or, at least, he was trying to. Despite the slight resistance of your tightness, Nanami has one hand on your hips, dragging you back into him with each thrust. “Fucking- needy-”

“Not as much as you.” You’re protesting, feeling the wetness of his precum mix with your slick to travel downwards. “You’ve been the one eating me out like you’re addicted-”

“And you’re the one swallowing me down like you’re trying to suck me dry, my love.” He’s bickering back gently, “Or…” And there was a tinge of something in his carnal tone that makes you shiver, “-should I put all the blame on her instead?”

Her.

Your sultry, wet pussy.

The one he was probin’ his split-ended cock into. The one that was making him grunt after every one of your slight squeezes. The one that was so cozily tight that Nanami had to hold onto your hips and jerk you backwards to try and fit himself all inside.

Jerking and pulling.

Manhandling.

When he feels the tight shield of you still trying to get used to his sheer size, Nanami properly loops his arms ‘round your thighs. And then he’s fucking holding you up- your heels dangling off the tile, your body supported only by the dining table and your husband.

Your geysering cunt purely at the mercy of him, him, him.

“O-ohhhhh, this pussy.” As he sinks in, it’s so good that Nanami hunches his bulky body over - as if he was breaking apart on your hole. Properly in half, breaths heaving out. With every inch of his globular cockhead spearing inside, you can feel Nanami grow more and more feverish. “Oh this pussy- oh, this- this pussy-”

You’re moaning at his broken mantra, “Nanami, are you fuck- alri-”

“The first time in- in what feels like ages that m’getting to fuck you the way I’ve been aching to.” He’s spitting out - literally, back down your sultry slit to make you even wetter for him. And with that, Nanami’s voice veers octaves higher. Crazed. “And you ask me whether m’fucking alright, darling?”

“Well I’d say you were becoming- ngh, pussydrunk already.” You’re whining out, staring into Nanami’s eyes and oh—they were so dilated.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen them this dilated.

They always were, whenever he was gazing at you. But to this extent? It seemed as if his entire iris had just turned back, and Nanami Kento was hanging on your every word, your every breath. You’re whispering, “But…but I think you’re even past that now.”

“P-pussydrunk?” He breathes out the word as if it was a joke- spits it out in almost distaste. Which was strange…because it was honestly one of his favorites. “You think I’d be pussydrunk by now?”

Confused, “Y-yes?”

Before you’re being shocked by a sudden burst from his hips, his meaty thighs striking the backs of yours until his skin there turns red. His blustering tip scrape-scrape-scrapes your insides carnally, and you can feel the line of his slit driving in even deeper.

“Oh, honey- oh, my love- oh, my wife…” Nanami’s droning on out, and if you were in any better state of mind then you’d have realized that the usually-eloquent Nanami Kento was slurring. Smack! Through your kaleidoscope of tears, you’re registering that the skin of his pelvis had just slammed into yours, a stinging impact.

Your husband pliably scoops you up, dragging your hips back down his shaft as if you were nothing but a ragdoll. Your gummy channel was being meshed apart for his upright erection, sliding down it slooooowly. Bit by bit. Inch by solid, throbbing inch. “Don’t you know that- hah-” Until you were fully bottomed out, “-I’ve been pussydrunk aaaaall week?”

All week?

Your mouth opens - perhaps to question him, perhaps to counterpoint him - but the only thing that echoes out is a sensual whine as he then starts ramming into you at a sloppy cadence.

Sloppy and fast.

Hard.

Nanami’s pulling all the way back till juuust the crown of his red tip kissed your entrance, then shoving back in until the hilt. Your orifice stretched all widely open ‘round his base, the spattering of curly golden hair tickling your folds. “Don’t you know?” Your husband asks, “Didn’t you know I’ve been- hngh, ruined on your pussy all week?”

“Ruined?” You repeat, clawing onto the table for some semblance of stability. “But we haven’t even properly-”

“Exactly.”

Oh.

He was now rutting into you like an animal, the curve of his luscious tip swabbin’ at your every ounce of space. “You don’t know how fucking greedy- how impatient I’ve- hah, I’ve been-”

And that surprised you, “Impatient?” Though, he was certainly fucking you like it. After every rugged bash of Nanami’s cockhead, he was surging back in for more  - barely even letting the springy recoil of your walls start before he’s plummeting back in.

Again and again.

A particularly hard thud! has you feeling him at the back of your throat, and your cheeks stain with a few lacquer of tears. “I almost can’t believe that- oh-”

He’s pinning down your squirming hips, and you can feel the line of Nanami’s happy trail scritch-scratch your skin. “I am not a patient man, my wife.” He says, darkly. Holding you down whilst he fucks you like a madman- “I could barely hold myself back this entire week- could barely- haaah, you don’t know how many times I’ve almost cracked n’ called off work just to be able to stay home and fuck this pussy stupid for a few hours.”

“And- and then?” You’re hiccuping, feeling his slamming tempo get even faster. “Then what?”

“Oh, you’re enjoying this—little slut.” Pure shock sparks down your body at the words he was using - absolutely filthy. “Let’s see how much you like this then-” And before you know it, one of his hands lifts off of your waist to rover down to between your legs.

Nanami’s rough index and thumb pinches your clit- “Fuh-fuck! Kento!”

“Wanted to do that for so long.” He watches with relish as you shake beneath him, “If the boys weren’t there- ngh, you have no idea how many times I’ve wanted to just reach over as you ate and pinch this cute clit. Just to tease. Just to see if you’d gasp.”

“Please- please-”

Only toying with your sensitive nub even harder - no matter what, he was always such a rough player. “Wanted to see if you’d scream my, mm, name like that.” Now alternating with his sensual drags of your clit, and rough rolls of his thumb flat. “If this hole of yours would get even wetter because—fuuuck.”

And then the girth of his length starts snaggin’ against your pussy walls, every ounce of blood in Nanami’s body flowing to his cock and swelling it up even further.

“-because I’d sure get harder when you do.”

Just as he said, he had.

Your head lolls stupidly in front of you- but of course, Nanami couldn’t have that. So he’s using his free hand to help you rest your clammy scalp back against his shoulder, so bent forwards that it wasn’t much of a stretch, honestly.

Like any good husband, Nanami Kento wanted to gaze lovingly into your eyes will he fucked you deep. 

“Aaaand then there’s this spot-” Plop! The raw vibrations start from where he’s bashing in your g-spot, set your teeth utterly on their edges. He angles his hips so that it digs a pretty bruise right there on your nerves, “-this spot that I looooove- n’ I know she loves me, too. Because she’s- haah, squeezing me so tight- never wants to let me go-”

“Right there-” You cry out, as if that wasn’t already obvious. “There there there there- faster, Kento.”

Precisely, Nanami’s smoochin’ away at your g-spot - with such incredible accuracy that your dazed mind starts to wonder whether he has some sort of superpower that lets him calculate the ratio. The speed of his hips- the vulgarity. He’s viciously gnawing down on your ear as you try to buck, “Just how many times have I squeezed my c-cock like this, just imagining that it was you-”

“You h-have?”

“Mhmmm, and all those times I’d fuckin’ salivate just imagining—” There’s almost a pout in his voice, something so starkly cute whilst he tunneled into you savagely. “But it never was quite the same.”

“I thought about you so much, too, Ken.” You admit, your thighs clenching together- which your husband easily swats away to start twisting your clit even harder. “Wanted you to fuck me just like this-”

A sultry smile spreads across his lips, “Oh yeah? And was it just like this?”

“Mhm—” You’re fervently nodding, “Just like this and I- also…” And only at Nanami’s reassuring look do you continue, “…you also had your- hah, your leg up.”

“My leg up?” Nanami asks, “Like…this?”

There’s a thud! and then a clutter once one of his meaty thighs rests up on the table, capped knee coming to rest where your peripheral vision could see. This change in angle made him just enter his round cockhead into completely deeper parts of your womb. 

Swirlin’ around your gummy walls, just pushing his bawling divot into spots you didn’t even know existed. Again. And again. And again and again and again—

“And you know what I was fantasizing about?” He’s panting out in scorched waves, hips leaving a fever pitch. 

“Wh-what?”

“Ohhh, you know…just like this-” You could hear the grin in his voice, “-fucking you rough. Fucking you hard, feeling your hot pussy for the first time in- hck! ages. I’d been missing her so much, taking her so much. My favorite lil’ meal- oh, I really want to taste you right now…”

Arching your back into his glissading abs, “Kento, don’t stop. I feel like I’m about to-” Cutting yourself off with a breathy intake of air when he’s drawin’ hearts on your pulsating nub.

“Oho–? Then perhaps I should go on- I was thinking of you exactly like- ngh, this, my love. Except for one key difference…”

“And that is?”

To answer your question, Nanami gets up reeeeal close in your ear- he glides his hot lips down the side of your face, letting his breath send shivers skittering down your spine. “It’s that not only was I fucking you rough, darling, I was fucking you with the intention of getting you pregnant-”

And then it’s white- 

And you’re cumming.

Surging even harder than any of your ones before, your heartbeat thumps in your ears like a war drum. Body at the mercy of your husband, Nanami Kento, as he bucks and bucks and bucks you through the perfect peaks of your high. Until, ultimately…

“F-fuck.” Even with your popped eardrums, you manage to catch the way that Nanami’s voice breaks as he swears his surrender. The drivelling circle at the end of his cockhead suddenly bursting into his own high- “Fuck, exactly like this-”

Hunching over. Pinning you to the bed.

He’s shoving his leaking cock deep into the goopy crevices of your pussy, letting you flood up with each miry line of his cum. “Exactly like this- just like this-” Nanami’s groaning out, webbing up your sweet insides with his orgasm. “This entire week I imagined pinning you down like- this—”

“Oh, please.” You’re blinking back the stars in your vision as one of his hands lets go to push down your hips. Wrestling you into stillness for a second-

“And then my cum- fuck, your pussy’s so hungry for my ngh, cum. She’s sucking it up like- th-thiiiiis—” You’re feeling the exact moment that even more of his ivory syrup seeps out, trickling against the back of your cervix. He’s fucking you through both of your highs almost aggressively, “And then- and then…”

“And then?”

“Oh, honey—” Nanami grins, like he knew something you didn’t. The hand pinning you down slowly scrapes down until it was plastered against your front, pushing down where a lil’ cumflation was threatening to start. A little bulge. In many ways. “-then you’d be pregnant, is what.”

3:01PM, Saturday.

It was only a few more rounds and a hasty lunch later that Nanami had cornered you again (or perhaps you had cornered him, it was hard to say with just how ravenous the two of you actually were). Until, ultimately, you were perched atop the very kitchen counter that the two of you had made yourselves lunch in. 

Your body draped across the frigid counter, your legs in the air.

Cunt directly in the line of sight of your husband, who’d just been hankerin’ for something more…sweet (and had rejected every other dessert option until it came to this).

Nanami’s looooong tongue was dipping in and out of your hole, gathering up all those creamy wads of cum that he’d stuffed in there just moments prior. As if he was forgetting his objective of getting you pregnant- and then starting all over again. 

“Mmm—mmpf.” Came his strangled moans, being completely crushed between your legs- and his two hands plastered upon either side of them as if trying to get them to tighten ‘round his neck even more. “What did I say about this being my favorite dessert—?”

Slightly leaning back, you can see the full scope of the messes that you and Nanami have made of each other. Slick n’ white cum glued across his face, a sheen that his tastebuds dart out to lick every ounce of. 

Dripping wet.

Plunging in and out.

Lavishing his mouth between your trembly, overstimulated legs for more, more, more. It was just so wet that it felt like you were melting underneath him, with all your excess staining down his throat now. 

With a shiver, you’re clawing at Nanami’s blond head and attempting to push him down- “And wh-what have I said about not talking with your mouth full?”

Unexpectedly (or perhaps not, you shouldn’t be surprised by now), this doesn’t deter Nanami a single bit. Doesn’t make him falter a single shred.

In fact, he’s actually wracking with primal shivers, the lower half of his body that was obscured by the angle below ruts—“Ohhhh, love when you go all momma mode.” He’s spitting between your pussylips, plastering those swollen lips of yours to his own. And just bubbling out in dewy wads every time he’s pokin’ his tongue inwards and swirling it all around, “Can’t- hah, can’t wait to make you a momma all over again. Can’t wait to fuck a baby into ya, my darling. All round and glowing and- and mine…”

Faster and faster. You’re wondering just how it was possible for Nanami to talk with his mouth all full, and his tongue working overtime to reach for the hidden spots deepest inside you. “And how will you do that when you’re- ngh, greedy for every drop of…”

He looks up with a darkly amused glint, “Drop of what, my love?”

“Drop of- of cum.” You’re finally managing to shrill out, and you think it may have something to do with the fact that Nanami had finally gulped down any and every bit of evidence of the mess he’d made of you. That glistening lacquer of creamy white not dotted his lips, and he was rovering his mouth over your clit and biting it now-

“Drop of cum, hm—?” Nanami pretends to think, so seriously that it reminded you of the way he’d be when he was in the midst of some important business project. “Oh, you’re right. I do need to fill you up with my cum before I can get you, ngh, pregnant.”

You’re squirming, “I genuinely can’t tell if you’re seriously that gone or not, Kento.”

“H-heh…”

And it seems that that was all the answer you’re getting for that particular answer- as for the other demand of yours, Nanami doesn’t quite answer it until you’re cumming ‘round his mouth all over again.

He licks up the tenderest spots of your insides until you feel yourself tipping over the edge - by now, your orgasm was nothing more than a few tingles that ran from the pit of your belly n’ left you all numb. 

All quivering.

You look down and realize, with a jolt, that he’d cleaned you off perfectly - and Nanami Kento always was great with aftercare, but this seemed to be something else entirely. Something filthy. And your cunt almost missed the hot splashes of cum that were once overspilling out of you.

Tears slick down your cheeks and - for the nth time that night - you muse that you can’t possibly cum again, for at least a few weeks.

“Oh yes, you can.” He answers—oh, you’d said that out loud. Fuck. “And you will-” Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. With a final few slurping smooches, Nanami wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and gets up from his place kneeled on the kitchen floor. And you can already see that his dick is rock-fucking-hard-

“After all, I have to fill you all over again, don’t I?”

7:18PM, Saturday.

You haven’t even had dinner yet.

You haven’t even had dinner yet - but Nanami Kento was making sure that you were stuffed.

Like the cutest of lollipops, looooong and hard. His blushin’ cockhead was licked pink at the very tip, dribbling out in wads of precum that leave your tongue feeling all sticky. He pinpoints the salty taste of it right against the back of your throat, and you whine—

“Sh-shoooo- mmpf.” You manage to gurgle out, and by the way that he’s swabbing every inch of your maw with his length- it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that you were claiming he was ‘soooo big’.

But Nanami wanted to tease you a little bit…

“What was hah! that, my love?” He’s crooning, overlarge hand coming down where you were seated beneath his meaty thighs. They quiver every time the lavish muscle of your tongue traced his muscles, like that was all it took to leave your poor husband on the verge of breaking.

Oh, and how cute you looked with your angrily furrowed brows, mouth full of his cock, huffing n’ puffing at the question he’d just asked. 

You were underneath his office desk by this point, and Nanami’s leaning his body back in his chair to buck up ever-so-slightly inside you. Hushing at you all the while to relax your throat, “Shhh—breathe through your- ngh, nose, darling, breeeeathe. Breathe n’ try to repeat that sentence f’me?”

You’re popping off of his flared mushroom tip with a wet pwah! “But why—? I said you’re so-”

“I want you to say it with my cock in your mouth, m’kay?” Nanami says in that stern tone of his. And you’re letting his massive palm cradle the back of your throat to get you moving your maw over his length once more, nuzzling the curly hairs of his happy trail.

You’re breathing in his musky masculine scent, “Just so mean.” Pouting, and your dear husband already knows that he’s won.

That when you perk your head up, he’ll be guiding his flushed tip to tap-tap-tap against your puckered lips. Your mouth was just so raw from so many kisses that you wince at the stinging sensation, your spit drivelling down both sides of your face.

“I said- hck!” Cut off right as Nanami plugs your dewy mouth hole with his cock, plunging iiiiin—“That you’re so- mmmpf—”

Intentionally, whenever it showed even the slightest signs that you may be emitting any coherent sentences, Nanami would buck his mean hips. Until the toned lines of his pelvis massaged your jaw, he’s lodging his beading cock all the way against the back of your throat- and then has the audacity to coo. “Awww, why aren’t you speaking, darling? I just looove your voice so much.”

“Mmmpf-” You rake your nails down his milky thighs, leaving sinful marks for days. “Hngh-” Slightly managing to find a bobbing pace that let you breath enough, “I said you’re so-”

“Aaaand there we go ag-fuck, again.” Before you can finish your sentence, he’s then reaching over to pinch your two nostrils together. A mean smile twitching at one corner of his mouth as you struggle and claw your way down his thighs even more.

Head bobbing desperately, he’s finding that that cute jaw of yours unhinges even more when he restricted your air like this. Interesting…

Finally - finally - letting go of your only form of breathing, Nanami lets you pull off of his throbbing red cock with a gasp. Lines of miry precum still connecting your mouth to his tip, chest heaving- “Fuh-fuck, Kento. What I was saying was-”

“And how can you expect to teach our new baby all those phonetics if you can’t even- ngh, string together a sentence yourself, my darling? No offense but—oh, fuck, that feels good.” He whispers, shutting you up with his girth once more.

Nanami’s cock was just so wiiiide that he made your mouth create the cutest lil’ ‘oh’ whenever he rammed himself right down to the base. Right. Down to. The. Base. 

Your husband airily asks, “Now…what were you saying a-again?”

12:27AM, Sunday.

By this time, you’d finally reached the bedroom - though, only after Nanami had taken you on every single spot inside your shared home and saved your king-sized bed for best and for last.

You were practically running on fumes by this point, and could barely even hold up the messy mating press that he’d pressed you into. With his beefy arms tangled up with yours, his thighs pressed against the backs of yours, cock probing into you deeeeeeep.

You swear you could almost taste the salty sweetness of his cockhead at your throat, just oozing out in creamy white wads- almost as if cumming was a perpetual state that Nanami was in whenever he was inside you from now onwards.

Again and again and again-

“Please!” You’re wetly gasping out, head thrown back into pillows that were drenched with your tears by now. “Please- I think it’s already t-taken by now, Kento-”

“Taken?” Nanami asks, almost in a daze. “Taken- you mean…”

And then you watch - in real-time - as the blond-haired man’s mouth parts ever-so-slightly. As understanding washes over his face. As he’s once again swatting at the door to your womb, and you can feel it splosh! with the overspilling remnants of his ivory sap. 

It trickles out of your overworked hole in a line of white, and Nanami languidly rovers his hand over to push back in those excess wads. He grins, “I almost forgot that we were s-supposed to get you pregnant, my darling.” You gawk as he continues, “To be quite honest, I’ve just been- ngh, addicted to your cunt.”

“A-addicted-”

“Can’t pull out.” He admits, slashing rude spanks into the back of your pussy with every hoarse syllable - you’re sure that you weren’t too far behind, and that your voice would give out soon. “Can’t even imagine it- can’t even dream of it-” 

You squeal as a hand at your throat helps Nanami pull you back along to every one of his rugged thrusts, his plap-plap-plapping hips almost stinging against yours now.

“All I want is her- all I need to feel—” Growing even rougher with his nudgin’ at your cervix, you wonder whether you might just pass out and see the pearly gates at this rate. “All I need to see- taste- smell- feel—h-hck! Oh, I can feel my cum swirlin’ around inside you- s’like heaven.”

With a shiver, you’re feeling him splat! out a few more wads of ivory white cum, emptying out to add to the rest of the slicked mess he’d made. You might just be reaching your own high, as well, but with how far you were overstimulated- you couldn’t even be sure at this point.

Gasps scorching as he says, “And it makes me…”

Oh, you knew something was coming up when he started speaking like that. 

“And- and it makes you?” You claw onto the dampened sheets- you might just have to change them soon, because something told you that you won’t be leaving this bedroom for a while.

“Makes me want to…do it all over again.”

4:56AM, Sunday.

“Get pregnant-” Nanami grunts, furiously pumping his reddened, raw cock inside you. Absolutely furiously. “Get pregnant- get pregnant- get- get pregnant…”

“I think- fuck, can feel it—” You’re sobbing out, holding onto Nanami for dear life by this point.

You were right in assuming that neither of you would be leaving this very bedroom for a while, because it’s hours later and you hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep - hours later and Nanami Kento was still trying to mold his thick, vein-covered cock to your walls. Still trying to get you pregnant as soon as possible.

Right now, actually.

Not even in a proper sex position by this point (you’d already tried everything there was to try), this was more of a sloppy prone bone. With your legs sprawled behind you, and Nanami’s hulking body melting down into yours.

His abs gluing to your back, his thighs shivering from behind.

He could barely even hold himself up on overworked limbs, and Nanami was left collapsed on top of you. Pinning you down helplessly. Crushing you to his sculptured body, his sweaty abs mingled with your back as he pushes n’ probes n’ cums—“A-another…” Nanami pants, and something wet hits the line of your spine—tears. Nanami Kento was crying overstimulated tears.

“Gonna get you pregnant with th-this one- I can, haaah, feel it, my love.” His hand scours underneath your tummy, and you can feel him preeeeess into the spot of your womb where you were all filled up to the brim. “I just know it- I, fuck, just know this one left that pretty pussy o’ mine pregnant.”

“Of yours?” You’re babbling away, feeling so full. You’d only have done this for Nanami - for his ravenous urge to get you pregnant with your third child. 

“Mhmmm, of mine.” He answers, grinding so that his tender ballsack scrapes your puffy folds. “Of my lovely wife. Of the beautiful m-momma to by three beautiful children- fuck, just saying that made me cum again, my love, look at that…heh.”

“I think m’close to…” You’re babbling pathetically, not even sure if you could by now.

But Nanami was probin’ against that spot so perfectly still, and by now your nerves were so tender that every tiny graze sets your teeth on edge. Vision a kaleidoscope of tears- “Kento, I think m’gonna-”

And before you can finish your sentence, you’re cumming.

Well, you’re not just cumming, to be quite honest.

You’re squirting.

Thick, watery splashes of your high that leave your husband’s sloppy staccato faltering for but a few seconds- as he takes in the constant gush of sap that was leaving you. Gush after gush. Directly following the peak after peak of your orgasm.

And what does Nanami do?

Well, other fuck you ferally through your squirtin’ high, that is? He’s slithering a hand down to roll over your clit whilst you cum, making you whimper at the delicate feeling.

Intentionally, he’s drenching his skin all a gleaming sheen to- fuck, to bring up to his gluttonous maw and lick off—

“So…baby names, my wife?”

.

.

.

1:26PM, Sunday.

You think you might have passed out some time after you’d squirted, and slept straight through until it was past noon. When you’d awoken, you discovered that you’d actually been…cleaned off and tucked safely under the covers. 

The bedsheets had been changed, too, with one of your favorite pillows fluffed underneath your head. Blankets raised high. Food on your bedside counter in case you’d woken up hungry. And your husband cuddled up beside you, waking up to your lethargic movements.

Of course, he’d taken you then, too.

It’d been slooooow and sleepy this time- and you think that Nanami had barely even registered the fact that he was awake before his primal mind was immediately filled with the urge to impregnate, impregnate, impregnate. 

A slight tear track lined down his handsome cheek and to his (thoroughly bitten) throat once he pressed his plummy cockhead inside- smiling at the whoosh of cum that’d just splashed out of you. “Hungry, my love?”

“Not that much-” You’re answering, “Since we already…” Only- you realize that your husband wasn’t looking at you at all. 

He was looking at…

A wet sluuuurp emanates once your entrance swallows his cock past your puffy pussylips, welcoming the lines of Nanami’s veins back inside once more- oh, how the tiniest of crevices inside you had missed him already. “Oh, you had been hungry.” He titters, almost to himself. “Look at you g-go-”

You’re yelping as he bottoms out, “So you were talking to-”

“Oh? What’s that?” Knowingly, Nanami’s cupping his ear to lean down and listen- the most lecherous of noises once he ruts in and out of your treacly cunt. In and out. In and out. In and out. “Uh uh? Uhhh uh—oh, I see-”

With his devilish eyes, he’s turning towards you and you almost flinch at the look in them-

“She says the baby’s hungry, my wife-” One of his hands ends up on your right tit, and Nanami brings your hardened nipple up to his mouth to suck—and, oh, the poor thing was sensitive? It made you thrash? 

Worry not, because in a singular fluid motion, Nanami’s reaching over towards the bedside table to grab one of his infamous silken work ties. Using it to tie your wrists up- “At least, my baby’s hungry- for me to fuck a baby into her.”

Again.

5:44PM, Sunday.

You’d had a brief call just before this with Choso and Yuji in Oita (with the video option carefully turned off on your side so that they wouldn’t be able to see the state their parents were now in, all bitten, broken). 

And right after- oh, right after, Nanami had all but pounced on you.

Maybe it had been the joy of seeing his sons again, maybe it had been the urgency of realizing that they’d be home by this time tomorrow. Tomorrow morning itself.

But he had you bend like a lawn chair back into your favorite mating press position, your hamstrings screaming at you to slow down- and your husband doing anything but that. “Preg-pregnant-” He’s whispering out brokenly, unable to manage anything above a rasp. “Have to get you pregnant- have to have everyone look at you and just know what I did-”

You feel his reddened tip twitch inside of you and you moan, “Yes- yes yes yes yes, Kento-” His cum spurting out in sloppy streaks. “I want it all inside, I want a baby with you- ngh.”

“Fuck, don’t say that- s’just gonna wanna make me go again.” He pleads with you, overstimulated lower lip wobbling at the feeling of your velvety, heart-shaped insides clenching ‘round him. “Just gonna make me- ngh.”

“Fuck, Kento-”

“P-pregnant…” He babbles onwards, “I get the f-feeling s’gonna be a girl, momma.”

8:45PM, Sunday.

After that, there were likely multiple more rounds that melted into one lustful haze in your mind. But the one round that you remember the most fondly out of that particular Sunday, was the one directly after Nanami had skipped dinner to go straight back into fucking you.

Your last round.

He was a crying, whimpering mess by this point - this large, towering hulk of a man that had been reduced to absolutely nothing on your pussy. You could clench and it would be enough to make your husband shed a few tears, his strawberry-red divot streaming out in pearly beads of cum. Allllll emptied out in the back of your pussy-

“I think-” He’s gasping out towards the end, feeling your slimy walls contract with what might just be another one of your highs once more. “I think this one—hnghhh.”

“Oh my-” You’re speechless-

Because Nanami only lazily probes his thick cock inside you, holding onto the front of your stomach- he presses doooown right where his mushroomy tip ended at, thudding deep into the front of your overspilling womb by now. 

Drenched in his cum.

A white, hot mess because of him.

And with a carnal grunt of your name, Nanami’s finishing out once more. With a few vulgar strokes of him swirlin’ aside the webs of sap already inside of you- you’re realizing that-

“Fuck…” Your maw drops agape, “Did you just- hngh, c-cum dry, Kento?”

“Wha—” He’s hazily turning his eyes downwards, only now realizing that the end of his shaft hadn’t burst out in creamy white like it always did these past two days. He had the faint sparks of electricity, all the twitches—but Nanami hadn’t actually cum.

You’d sucked him dry.

He was cumming dry.

The realization hits him hard enough that his breath hitches, “O-oh-” Tears glitter the ends of his molten stares, “You’re right, my love, I did cum dry.” With his palm still plastered against your front, Nanami pulls you towards him - no position at all by now, just a tangled heap of limbs. “And you wanna- fuuuuck, don’t squeeze me like that- you wanna know something else, too?”

You’re cracking your teary lids open at him, “What?”

Only for your husband, Nanami Kento, to lean down and whisper—“I think it really took this time, my wife.”

“Oh…” You’re smiling up at him, your lids heavy. “That’s…good…Kento.”

And it’s the last thing you remember before you’re closing your eyes into a deep, deep slumber.

.

.

.

“Oh, fuck-” You’re shooting upright in your comfortable bed, which only seemed to wish to drag you back down onto its springy mattress with invisible arms. And it was tempting, you have to admit.

Very, very tempting.

If only sunlight hadn’t been flowing with gusto even through your bedroom curtains, and birds and traffic weren’t twittering in competition outside. It was one of those mornings when the world just seemed a little bit brighter- and with growing panic, you’re slamming your hand out to grab your phone off of the bedside table.

Muttering to yourself, “Oh, fuck fuck fuck- fuck.” It hurt to even move your limbs out for this simple action, though that was the least of your worries right now. “It seems so late- don’t tell me I missed the pick up time for-” You tap on your phone screen—

10:45AM, Monday.

(Public holiday)

“Fuck, I did-”

3 missed messages from Hubby <3

“No- wait.”

Hubby <3: I went to go pick up the kids, so don’t worry, my love. I’ll also take care of breakfast so don’t even think about it!

Hubby <3: You just get all the sleep you need. I love you.

Hubby <3: So, so much.

You’re exhaling in relief, falling back against your pillows. Out of curiosity, you’re checking the timestamps on the messages that Nanami had sent, and find that it had actually been a fair amount of time before you’d awoken. So that means…

“Papa, where’s momma?”

Ah, Yuji’s loudly curious voice emanates from downstairs - as well as the sweet, simmering smell of pancakes and syrup. Just hearing your sons so close by makes you excited to step downstairs (and you had to admit that the thought of breakfast made your stomach rumble, too)- and yet, you persist. If just to hear what excuse your husband might come up with.

Fuck, it hits you all at once - right along with the immensely satisfying fatigue in your body. The soreness. The bruises. The bites. You’d just fucked like animals for two days.

“Ah…” Nanami’s deep voice hesitates, “She’s asleep, sunshine.”

“Still?” Choso pipes up this time, and you could almost imagine the way that his dark brows would knit together when he wanted to get to the bottom of a mystery. “That’s odd, is she sick or something?”

“Or something.”

Yuji pouts, “What’s that mean, papa?”

“Momma’s just very ah- tired, you two know how hard she works.” He replies, and your heart soars as you listen to two little voices of agreement. “Let’s let her sleep, okay? And maybe if she isn’t awake by the time we finish these pancakes- then you two can get momma’s plate ready, and I’ll go upstairs to help her down, alright? We can surprise her with a fancy breakfast just for her!”

“Yes, papa—!”

“Sounds good!”

You hear Nanami chuckle, “And make sure you plate quite a bit, kiddos, I have the feeling that momma’s gonna have to eat for two very, very soon.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, papa?”

“Heh, that’s a secret, sunshine…”

A/N. Y’all were asking for thisssssss so ofc daddy has to deliver mwahahaha…

Plagiarism not authorized.

[slvttyplum]

nanami fingering you to keep himself focused (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

nanami likes to lazily finger you while he’s working late; it keeps him focused, and he likes feeling you squirm and needy nuzzled against him.

this night is like any other night; he’s in bed with his laptop on one leg and you snuggled beside him, two of his fingers softly rubbing over your bare, dripping core. 

you spread your thighs out further, and he slides one finger in, his finger coated with you.

nanami slides the finger out immediately and brings it to his mouth, sucking off your juices, then sliding his hand back down and sliding two fingers in, making your hips buck a little. 

“stay still, sweetheart,” he murmurs to you as he uses his other hand to scroll down on his computer, his two fingers inside of you pumping in and out steadily.

he keeps this rhythm forever, softly talking to himself about something work-related, his fingers curving up a little, making one of your thighs tremble. 

“…nanami”

your voice is soft and hoarse while you bury your face into his side, his rhythm getting a little faster, the sounds of your wetness filling the room. 

the sounds of your whimpering and lewd sounds from your messy pussy kept him focused; he loves knowing you’re right beside him making sure he’s on track, even if that meant he had to be two fingers deep inside of you.

your mouth opens against him with broken moans tumbling out, the ache for more making you grind into his rhythm. 

a wet spot is already forming beneath you, and there's drool on his shirt from you and your broken moans and the fact you can't close your mouth.

he speeds up, his fingers curving up inside of you, and you spread your thighs out more and wrap both your arms around his, your head now resting on his arm, drooling there. 

“you’re doing good baby just let it happen, okay?"

his palm hitting your clit while he speeds up makes you cry, your eyes squeezed shut from the intense pleasure building inside of your stomach about to release. 

“i've got you, let it out for me.”

his focus still on his laptop until he feels everything pour over, warm wetness hitting his whole hand and your thighs clamping around it. 

nanami slowly slides his fingers out, bringing them to your mouth, and finally looking at you and tossing his laptop on the other end of the bed and pulling you into his lap. 

“thank you, baby; you did so good for me, my favorite mess.” 

his voice is soft, and he kisses your cheek, your mouth still wrapped around his fingers.

[reignpage]

Husband!Nanami likes to pretend he empathises with the painful stretch his fat cock forces your pretty pusses to make, that it hurts him just as much it hurts you. In truth, however, it gets him leaking like no other. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” he coos, “Kento’s sorry. Kento’s so sorry.”

You whimper, nails digging into his forearm as he slowly pushes his cock in inch by inch. The obscene squelches of your cunt reach both your ears and, at the same time, you release a shaky breath against each other’s lips. “K-ken, it’s too much! Too -hngh- big.”

Husband!Nanami tuts. “Nonsense, darling. My good girl can take it, can’t she? Look how well she’s behaving, sucking me up like she’s -mm- missed me. Oh, honey, I -hah- missed you too.” Like it knows he’s talking to her, your pussy pulses around his cockhead. He hisses.

Long and thick, with prominent veins that rub your gummy walls just right, he fills you up perfectly. There’s no barrier between you and it’s leaving you both dizzy. His heat, his musky and soapy scent, the hairs that tickle your throbbing clit — it all drives you wild. 

“Almost there, my love,” he whispers. A tender kiss is pressed to your forehead. “Take all of me, won’t you, dear? Let me feel you. All of you. Please, sweetheart.”

Despite the pain, you nod, bottom lip trembling. 

Husband!Nanami smiles. It’s sweet, soft, but failing at hiding that sadistic streak he thinks he’s got under control. Oh, he absolutely loves that you’re a quivering, soaked mess beneath him, struggling to take his cock. And soon… he’s going to love how you take his cum. 

But baby steps.

Another one for the Nanami vault

[hunnismokah]

nanami mhm mhm yeah yes mhm mhm