Gojo Satoru didn’t believe in just one round during your birthday, no, he was a firm believer of making you have orgasms all day, sometimes not in the most appropriate places.
The day starts with his head in between your thighs, morning sun filtering through the curtains and casting a yellow glow over your boyfriend’s white hair. His long, slender fingers grip the skin of your thighs roughly as he dives into your sweet pussy, head rolling back as you moan and whimper above him.
The second time, it’s in the backseat of his car. You want to visit a garden centre on your birthday? Sure, as long as he can bounce you on his cock in a quiet area of the car park afterwards. You’re far too cock drunk to notice or even care if the car is rocking violently each time he slams you down onto his deliciously thick length.
The third time, two of his fingers are splitting you open in your friend’s bathroom. You should’ve known that Gojo would try this when you said your friends had invited you round for the afternoon with an open invitation for your boyfriend too.
“Satoru,” you begin breathlessly, legs involuntarily spreading wider. “Someone could hear.”
He presses open mouthed kisses along your neck, nipping at your skin playfully. “Then let them. Let them see how well you’re being treated on your special day.”
You can’t contain your moan as his fingers plunge deeper, reaching that sweet spot that made your legs shake. “You’ve already-mm-treated me twice.”
“Not enough for me, baby. I won’t let you sleep until I’ve given you at least six orgasms today.”
You barely register his words as your eyes roll back, familiar feeling building in your lower stomach as you thrust helplessly against his palm.
The fourth time happens on the couch, right after getting home and unable to even get a word out before Gojo is pushing you down, fingers already straying to your underwear. Somehow, you end up face down ass up, drooling over one of your favourite cushions as Satoru pounds into you again and again, causing the nastiest of moans to spill from your mouth.
The fifth and sixth orgasm happens during the same event, in a fancy restaurant. Apparently, Gojo had no awareness of his surroundings even in one of the most prestigious places possible. He apparently also thinks it’s funny to rub the sole of his shoe over your clothed pussy during dinner until you finish, hands gripping your cutlery in a desperate attempt to look composed. And then to top it all off, he fucks you again in his car, the passenger seat now, one hand firmly wrapped around your neck so you don’t accidentally turn your head and notice how everyone can see the two of you this time.
first day, first lecture, actually. he stepped in late, and the only empty seat left was beside you. you both stared at the professor in pure, utterly confused silence, question marks probably floating on top of your heads as you tried to gather anything. after five minutes, you simply turned and asked him to let you pass so you could leave.
he grabbed his stuff, joining you. he asked if you wanted to grab coffee, and that’s how it all started.
three years later, you were the untouchable sukuna ryomen’s girlfriend. your relationship was private, no one knew any details (it wasn’t like anyone would dare to ask sukuna, especially with the way his resting face was a terrifying glare to everyone else) and you two preferred it that way.
no one knew the details. no one knew how sukuna was deeply and utterly smitten— the scowling, terrifying, muscular 6’4 man turning immediately into lovesick puppy for you. clingy, needy, obsessed, your guard dog of a boyfriend never ever let you doubt his love. he always made it clear, whether it was his arm’s wrapped around you every chance he got, or him spamming your phone whenever you weren’t around, using any excuse to talk to you, or the way he dropped everything for you, making it clear you were his first priority, or the way he listened intensely to every word that left your mouth and noticed everything about you— which showed when he referenced your words from months ago, or bought you gifts you didn’t even mention, or could tell you weren’t okay from a single glance.
it really was not a lie that sukuna ryomen loved you. he knew it. you knew it. his frat knew it. everyone that really knew sukuna knew he loved you.
which was why the break up broke you.
that night didn’t even seem real. he had ignored you for a total of three days, replying to your texts dryly, which was already odd. then, he showed to to your place in the middle of the night, jaw clenched, eye bags dark, like he hasn’t slept in days. he didn’t elaborate, didn’t explain— simply told you he was tired, that he couldn’t do this anymore, and walked away.
like he didn’t just ruin you. like you two weren’t discussing your shared future a few days ago. like you two hadn’t already agreed what stupid fucking roses you wanted at your wedding. like he hasn’t kissed you so softly just a few days ago, murmuring soft pleads for you to never leave him.
to make it worse, he didn’t disappear after. he attended your shared lectures as usual— sitting behind you, always behind you, like he needed to keep you in his vision. he left your notifications on, which you knew because he remained the first to view every story until you blocked him. he kept going to your favorite cafe beside campus (he didn’t even like their coffee) at the exact same time you always did, his sad eyes set on you, buying a single water bottle each time, until you stopped going. you even had to stop going to the library late at night, because he would always be there, blank notebooks open as he pathetically pretended to focus when his eyes wouldn’t leave you alone. even late at night, when you would scroll through your chats, you would see his bubble. tying. erasing. there.
it was worse, because it was obvious that he still loved you.
it made you want to scream, really. it would have been better if he just… pretended you didn’t exist. ignored you. blocked you first. flirted with girls in your vision. did anything to make you feel like he didn’t care anymore. like he didn’t give a fuck, so you could move on. so you wouldn’t get the stupid urge to show up to his place and ask him what the fuck his issue was. so you could hate him.
but again, unfortunately for you, sukuna was never good at hiding his love for you.
it was going to be okay, though. because sukuna already broke it up, and moving on was clearly the only good solution. it wasn’t like he will ever come back, anywa—
bzzz.
dilf420: bro. ur fucking bf is sulking and ruining my party. can you come pick his drunk ass up. ill pay u.
you blinked once at the notification, then twice, then immediately opened it. you really should have blocked the whole frat.
you: broke up. no longer my bf. also, ur broke.
toji replied immediately.
dilf420: idc that u two broke up he’s drunk and blabbering about missing his fucking wife come pick his ass up
you stared at the dm blankly, eyes staring at the words like it would disappear if you blinked.
his fucking wife.
your throat felt dry. heart physically hurting, like someone’s fingers were digging into the muscle and squeezing it the way sukuna used to squeeze your fingers before kissing each knuckle. it hurt, so much, your vision slowly blurring the longer you stared at the three words.
on the other side of the phone, sukuna was pressed against toji, shoving his face into the cracked screen, face flushed from the alcohol, lips almost pouting, hair messy from running his hands through it so many times. “is she answerin’?” he muttered, voice slurred. “my pretty wife, is she comin’?”
toji sighed. “nah, man. she left me on read. you’re so fucked.”
sukuna groaned, stumbling slightly before he was leaning on the wall, eyes shut in pure devastation. “she hates me. what if she doesn’t wanna get back?”
“…you showed up at three in the morning and broke up with her without giving her a reason, bro. on gojo’s soul, she does not want to get back.”
it was silent for a few seconds before a quiet sniffle echoed in the room, and toji’s head snapped to the untouchable, scary figure sliding down the wall, face buried into his hands, shoulders trembling. toji’s eyes widened briefly, but sukuna grunted, the sound shaky. “not a fucking word.”
the next monday, you were still recovering from toji’s dm as you slid into your morning, 8:30 am lecture. you were half-asleep, buried in sweatpants and a hoodie, hood up in an attempt to hide from the world. your eyes were drooping sleepily, head slowly slipping from where your head rested on your palm, the tip of your pen slowly seeping ink into the paper.
someone slides beside you, and you freeze. you knew that cologne. you bought that cologne.
you didn’t move a muscle, shoulders tense, eyes suddenly focused as they stared ahead. you could feel his gaze, his thigh pressing against yours in the annoyingly small seats. you could feel the heat from his skin, even from the thick fabric of your sweatpants.
…what the fuck was he doing?
your jaw clenched, before you took a quiet deep breath, convincing yourself he must have not looked properly when picking a seat. it takes a few minutes, but you’re finally able to focus back on your professor again, ignoring the way you could feel his gaze shifting to you ever few seconds.
“…i’m sorry.”
you sucked in a sharp, annoyed breath, gaze still ahead, fingers tightening around the pen in your grasp, eyes unamused. he slowly placed a cup on your desk— your favorite coffee, from your favorite cafe. you froze, and you could see him wincing from your peripheral vision.
“…give me a chance explain, please?”
you carefully pushed yourself up, grabbing your bag and notebook, and silently stepped out of the hall. outside, toji was standing, a sigh on his lips as he caught up with you despite how you only spared him an annoyed glare.
“he loves you, you know that.” toji murmured. “give him a chance to explain.”
“no.” you muttered. “he’s a coward who left me without an explanation. now he wants to give me one?”
toji grimaced. “that wasn’t his brightest moments, but… come on, he’s your sukuna.”
“he made it clear he’s not.”
that night, you were dragged to one of their parties, curtesy of gojo begging you to show with tears and snot running down his face, using a lame excuse about how everyone in the frat misses you. you didn’t buy it, but you had to stop the embarrassingly loud bawling boy on your doorstep.
now, you sat in their kitchen, perched on the counter, an overly sweet drink between your fingers, and a staring ex-boyfriend on the other side.
sukuna was sulking.
eyes set on you, lips pursed, arms crossed— he ignored everyone who stared at him just so he could keep his eyes on you. geto and nanami sighed as they passed, geto offering him a bottle casually, and sukuna grabbed it, eyes still on you before he tilted his head back and drowned half the bottle down, only stopping when nanami pulled it back while snapping about expensive liquor.
the thing about sukuna? he was a lightweight, and an emotional drunk. that usually manifested in a shorter temper when he wasn’t with you, and him being unbelievably clingy with you, and now, a few hours after gulping random drinks down?
it manifested in him dragging himself to stand in front of you, lips wobbling and eyes tearful, looking like a kicked puppy instead of the frat bro everyone was terrified off. “baby…”
you hated how your own heart clenched, fingers digging into your palm to prevent yourself from cooing at him and tugging him into your hold safely. you only narrowed your eyes at him, and his eyes glossed even more. he opened his mouth, probably to beg, only to halt dangerously.
you, unfortunately, knew him too well. you let out a loud groan, quickly jumping off and dragging him to an empty bathroom upstairs, shutting the door just in time for him to drop to his knees and empty his stomach out into the toilet. he let out a choked sob between retches, and you sighed, sitting on the edge of the bathtub, a hand slowly rubbing his back. “dumbass.”
“i miss you so much,” he immediately whimpered, eyes shut painfully. “i miss you so, so, much. please, angel, forgive me, please— i want you back, i need you back, ‘m a stupid son of a bitch for every breaking it off, i need you in my life, please—“
he was interrupted with another gag, and you sighed, resuming to rub his back as he continued, your own vision blurry, heart shattering at the broken sob he let out once he was done.
“breathe.” you murmured softly. “come on, kuna, breathe for me. you can do that, yeah?”
“no,” he choked out. “i can’t— can’t even breathe without you, baby. please, please, forgive me for being a dumb idiot, i need my wife back, please—“
“if you breathe now, and we can talk tomorrow.”
it was almost humorous how he immediately straightened up, red, watery eyes wide, nose red and cheeks flushed from the alcohol. you sighed, reaching over to wipe his tears away, and he let out a pathetic whine, immediately leaning into your touch. you finally helped him up, forcing him to brush his teeth before you opened the door, quietly leading him into his room.
inside, he immediately flopped into bed, tired, sad eyes staring up at you. “you’ll… talk to me, right? please, baby?”
“tomorrow,” you murmured, throwing him a pair of shorts. “just sleep now, okay?”
he nodded frantically, eyes shutting quickly, obediently.
no one would believe this was the version of sukuna ryomen you knew— now when everyone else got the loud, short-tempered, rude, asshole version of him. you stared at him softly, watching his breathe even out, eyes fluttering shut, before you sighed softly, and stepped out of his room.
the next morning, you woke up to sukuna in front of your door, hair messy and eyes exhausted, yet holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers and your favorite coffee, the other messily trying to adjust his shirt to look more presentable. the second you opened your door, eyes sleepy and hair messily, lips pulled into a frown, he froze.
red eyes widened softly before his body relaxed, eyes softening, and breathed out slowly. “…hi.”
you reluctantly opened the door wider, letting him in. he stepped in, 6’4 solid figure suddenly seeming small, gently setting the items down, hands that are used to throwing punches leaning down to carefully adjust a delicate petal before he straightened up, eyes falling back on you, so full of unsaid emotions that they were already glossing over.
after a few seconds, he swallowed harshly, throat bobbing before he took a step closer. “i missed you.”
you frowned, eyes narrowing. “why did you break up, sukuna?”
“please,” he choked out the second the name escaped your lips, eyes wide in pure devastation. “please, angel. ryo, kuna, baby, pretty boy— anything but that.”
your frown deepened. he let out a defeated, shaky breath, and stepped even closer. “i broke it because i was a fucking idiot. i… i never loved someone so much, angel, i never cared about someone so much. you made me the happiest person alive, and… i knew you deserved better.”
you froze. he sniffled, taking another step closer, eyes desperately and voice breaking. “angel, i… i’m a selfish, possessive asshole, and you deserve someone perfect. i was so scared that you’ll wake up one day and end it, so i… just did.”
your vision clouded with tears, and he dropped to his knees, eyes wet with unshed tears. “i was a stupid, fucking idiot. i should have stayed, talked to you, got the reassurance i know my angel would give me, but i didn’t want to be selfish… i thought i was doing what’s best for you…”
he let his head drop, face falling to press against your abdomen, a loud, pained whimper escaping him. “turns out i was a fucking idiot for ever considering letting you go. i… i have been miserable, angel, bawled my fucking eyes out an embarrassing amount of times. i miss you so much, baby, i can’t— i can’t live with you. i can’t sleep, eat, breathe,” he gasped, hands trembling as they slowly reached to hold into your waist, and let out a louder sob once his fingers touched your body, tears soaking your shirt. “i need you in my life, angel. please, i can’t live without you. my heart only exists to beat for you. i was a fucking moron to ever think about letting you go. you deserve so much better— and i promise, ‘ll be better. i’ll be a better boyfriend, a better partner, a better everything— just, give me a chance,”
you sniffled. the second you did, his head snapped up, eyes wide and tearful and horrified, and he immediately shot to his feet, ignoring his own soaked face as gentle fingers slowly cupped your cheek, wiping your tears away. “please don’t cry, i can’t handle you being upset, please—“
“you idiot.” you finally whispered. he froze, eyes wide and pained, and you only stepped closer, letting your head drop into his chest. his arms immediately wrapped around you, pulling you until no space existed between you both. “are you stupid?”
“i am. i’m sorry, baby,” he whispered back. “i’m so sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m—“
“shut up.” you croaked out. “you’re an idiot. i love you as you are, you asshole.”
“i know, baby. i’m sorry.” he buried his face into your neck, his tears damping your shirt once more. “i’m never leaving you again, angel. not even physically— i’ll be so clingy you’ll get sick of me. i can’t live without you, i’m sorry, i’m sorry.”
you let him hold you, eyes shut tiredly. “…idiot.”
he let out a sharp laugh, holding you even tighter, pressing wet kisses all over your face until a smile broke on your pretty lips, and you could physically feel him finally breathing normally, still pressing kisses to your face, gentle and needy and desperate. “i know, angel. only an idiot would ever walk away from you. never, ever again. i love you. never, ever again. i’ll marry you, my love. never leaving you again.”
a/n i hate tumblr i had to write this three times </3 anyways hi ^^ still obsessed w these headers…
while your brain is frying at the edges, every nerve alight, nanami is asking you to do the impossible.
"cum for me again."
you want to, of course, but your sweat clicked body has other plans. no matter how much he grinds, fucks or rubs you at just the right angle, it's not enough to send you over the edge.
he's got you lying on your side, back pressed to him. his heartbeat is hammering against you in time with his thrusts, precise and controlled.
he notices the way you press your ass against him, chasing that high that's just out of reach. "tell me what you need, darling."
"your voice, kento." so quietly, so pathetic it's barely more than a whisper.
but he obeys regardless. pushing your leg up, his tip reaches even deeper, has your cunt gripping him in pleasure. "fuck," he groans. "there you go. taking my cock so well."
that has you mewling, head thrown back on a silent cry. the coil low in your belly tightens, but it's still not enough to send you over the edge.
"more!" you beg, chanting it over and over, brain clouded with lust.
"moan for me, darling. let it all out."
aided by his praise, you moan freely. your sinful noises echo off the walls into his ears. he joins you in making impassioned groans of his own. composure breaking, he hikes one of your legs up, hand gliding down to rub at your clit.
the coil grows tighter, threads of pleasure threatening to break into your peak. it's embarrassing how easily he can turn you on with just his words and that's exactly why you need him more.
"s-shitt, i'm close," you moan. one more thrust and you'll be gushing around him, ecstasy just out of reach.
"you need permission," he cuts himself off with a groan. "don't you?"
"yesyesyes— please let me cum!"
he shifts your position slightly, leg hugged even tighter against your chest and your face pushed into the pillows. the circles on your clit are smaller, sparks of pleasure lighting in your belly.
"cum for me, darling."
your orgasm racks through you without pause. toes curling, body locked up, vision whited out, you're at the complete mercy of it. you're screaming and creaming on him before you realize. through the haze, you can hear nanami groaning behind you, trying (and failing) to stay in control.
thrusts going sloppy, he fucks you through your orgasm, prolonging it until you can barely take it. "fuck, ken!"
he spills inside you, flooding your hole with opaline waves. for every tremor of your walls he's pistoning into you.
finally, both of you finish. rolling onto your back, his cock is free to slip out. his cum cascades out your sopping hole, sticking to your sweaty thighs. silence and the scent of sex hangs in the air for a while. right now, it's just you and him.
shifting to face him, you see he's already looking back, eyes glinting with pure adoration.
"i'll never get tired of your voice."
"same to you, darling."
masterlist | @orangethecarrotcoloredpaperred
a/n: i should've said this ages ago but i have a taglist now! it's linked in my bio. tell me if it doesn't work. hope u enjoyed the fic and ur day luvs <3
⋮ ⌗ ┆ 𝗾𝘂𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 ! | okay first off, WHY is this SO FUCKIN EMOTIONAL for no absolute reason. damn. consider this a 1000 follower special! likes & reblogs are appreciated! 𖹭
[𝜗ৎ] 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 : 2.9𝗄
𝓜𝘼𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙍𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏!
my husband hates me.
the thought settles deep in your chest like a stone, familiar and heavy, as you lie on the silk sheets of the massive bed.
your fingers trace the embroidered patterns on your robe—some floral design you can't see but can feel beneath your fingertips. the fabric is soft, expensive. everything here is expensive. everything here screams luxury and power and wealth.
but none of it screams love.
you hear nothing from his side of the bed.
the man is so impossibly quiet, it makes your skin prickle with unease. you've been here for three months now. three months as the wife of ryomen sukuna, the king of curses, the most feared ruler in all the lands. and in those three months, he has barely spoken a word to you.
at first, you thought it was a game.
some twisted test of patience. you were clever enough to know that political marriages were rarely about love. you'd been prepared for indifference, for coldness, for a husband who saw you as nothing more than a strategic alliance.
but this? this silent treatment that stretches night after night, this deliberate distance he keeps?
it cuts deeper than you expected.
your hand moves from your robe to your stomach, pressing against the plane of your belly. you're small. you know this. delicate in a way that makes people underestimate you. and blind. gods, the blindness. the one thing that has sent every single suitor running in the opposite direction.
princes would see your face first—the one they called ethereal, otherworldly, beautiful in a way that seemed impossible—and they'd fall to their knees.
they'd whisper sweet words, promises of devotion, declarations of love at first sight. and then you'd speak, and they'd realize your eyes didn't track their movements, didn't meet their gaze. and slowly, painfully, you'd listen to them pull away. hear the hesitation creep into their voices. feel the distance grow until they were gone.
you were used to it.
but sukuna? sukuna had looked at you once, for a single moment, and said yes. the entire empire had been shocked. the king of curses, the ruthless murderer, the emperor who had never shown interest in any woman, accepting a blind bride from a neighboring kingdom? it was scandalous. impossible.
and you'd felt hope.
you hate yourself for that hope now.
because three months of silence have taught you the truth. he doesn't want you. he tolerates you. and honestly? you'd almost prefer cruelty. at least cruelty would be a reaction. at least cruelty would mean he saw you as something worth acknowledging.
but this nothingness? this endless, suffocating nothingness?
it makes you feel like you've already disappeared.
the servants guide you through your days with practiced efficiency. they dress you, feed you, lead you through the palace halls. you've memorized the layout of your chambers, the path to the gardens, the number of steps from your room to the dining hall. you've learned to navigate this world without sight, just as you've always done.
but you can't navigate him.
you don't know where he sits at meals. you don't know if he watches you. you don't know if he even notices when you're in the same room. his presence is a void—a massive, oppressive absence of warmth that you can feel but never touch.
tonight was bad.
you'd been led to the gardens by a new servant, someone who didn't know your habits. she'd taken you left instead of right, and you'd walked straight into a hedge, thorns scratching your calves before she'd yanked you back with a flurry of apologies.
then you'd almost fallen down a staircase—the grand staircase with its uneven steps—your foot catching on the edge, your heart lurching into your throat as you'd pitched forward. a guard caught you just in time.
and the whispers.
you can't see their faces, but you can hear their voices. the concubines. the noblewomen. the servants who think you can't hear them.
"the blind empress."
"does he even notice her?"
"i heard he hasn't touched her once."
"what a waste of a pretty face."
"she must be so lonely."
"she must be so pathetic."
you'd smiled through all of it. kept your head high, your shoulders back, your voice steady. you learned long ago that showing weakness only invites more cruelty. so you'd walked through the halls with your practiced grace, your cane tapping against the marble floors, your face serene.
but inside, you were crumbling.
and now, lying in this massive bed, with your hair spread across a silk pillow and the scent of incense curling through the air, you can feel him beside you. he's so close. you know he's sitting up, his back probably against the headboard, his presence a heavy weight in the darkness.
does he ever sleep?
you've never heard him snore. never heard him shift in his sleep. he's so still, so silent, you sometimes wonder if he's even real.
a long, long time passes. the candles burn down. the incense fades. the night wraps around you like a shroud.
and you can't take it anymore.
"ryomen?"
your voice comes out soft, barely above a whisper. you hate how small you sound. how vulnerable. you'd wanted to sound strong, confident, demanding. instead, you sound like a child calling out in the dark.
silence.
you wait. count your heartbeats. one. two. three. four. five.
just when you're certain he's ignoring you, just when the familiar ache of rejection settles into your chest, a voice cuts through the darkness.
"what."
it's gruff. low. a single word that rumbles through the air like distant thunder. and it's the most he's said to you in days.
you swallow. your throat is dry. your fingers twist in the sheets.
"i...i want to ask you something."
more silence. you can feel him staring at you. you can't see it, but you can feel it—the weight of his gaze, heavy and unreadable.
"ask."
you take a shaky breath. this is it. this is the moment you've been building toward for three months. the question that's been eating you alive, consuming you from the inside out.
"do you hate me?"
the words hang in the air between you. they sound so small. so pathetic. you wish you could take them back, but it's too late. they're out there now, exposed and raw.
"hate you?" his voice is strange. almost...confused?
"because of...because i'm...y'know, blind." the words taste like ash in your mouth. "i know it's...i know i'm not what you expected. i know i'm not the best option. i know i'm—"
"stop."
the word is sharp, and you flinch. your breath catches in your throat. you brace yourself for anger, for cruelty, for him to finally confirm what you've suspected all along.
but instead of harsh words, you feel movement. the bed shifts. his weight moves closer.
and then, without warning, a hand wraps around your waist and pulls.
you let out a frightened shriek as you're yanked from your position, your body colliding with something solid and warm. your hands fly out, grasping at fabric, at skin, at anything. you're on his lap, straddling his thighs, your chest pressed against his. he's so big—so impossibly large—that you feel like a doll in his arms.
"ryomen!" your voice is high, panicked. "what—"
"quiet."
his hand settles on your thigh. it's huge. calloused. rough in a way that sends shivers down your spine. but the touch is gentle. impossibly gentle. he strokes your thigh once, twice, a soothing motion that slowly calms your racing heart.
"you really think," he says slowly, his voice rumbling against your chest, "that i hate you?"
you can't speak. your throat is too tight. you settle for shaking your head against his chest, even though it's a lie.
a low sound escapes him—not quite a growl, not quite a laugh. his hand slides from your thigh to your chin, tilting your face up. his thumb brushes across your lower lip, feather-light.
"open your eyes."
the command catches you off guard. "what?"
"your eyes. open them."
you blink, confused. your eyes are already open. you can't see anything, but they're open. you tell him as much.
"no." his voice is strange. softer. "i mean...look at me."
"i can't see you."
"i know." his thumb traces your jawline. "but i can see you. and i want to see your eyes. please."
please.
the word catches you off guard. the king of curses, saying please? to you?
you don't move. don't breathe. just let him hold your face in his massive hand, his touch devastatingly tender.
"i don't hate you," he says, and his voice cracks on the words. "gods, woman. i could never hate you."
your heart stutters. "then why—"
"because i'm fuckin' terrified."
you blink. "what?"
"do you know what i am?" his hand slides from your face to your hair, fingers threading through the strands. "i'm a killer. i've been killing for centuries. my hands are stained with blood i'll never wash clean. i'm rough, and violent, and i don't know how to be gentle."
"but—"
"but when i saw you..." he trails off. his fingers tighten in your hair, just barely. "when i saw you, i couldn't breathe. you were so beautiful. so small. so... perfect. and i thought, 'she's too good f'me.' , 'i'll break her.' , 'i'll hurt her.'"
his voice drops to a whisper.
"so i stayed away. because every time i look at you, i want to touch you. and every time i touch you, i'm afraid i'll destroy you."
tears prick at your eyes. you don't understand. you can't understand. this entire time, you thought he hated you. you thought he found you repulsive, broken, worthless.
but he was...
...afraid?
"you don't hate me?" you whisper.
"no." his forehead presses against yours. "i love you. i've loved you since the moment i saw you."
a sob escapes your throat. it's ugly and raw and you can't stop it.
"but you never—you never talked to me—"
"because i didn't trust myself." his other hand comes up to cup your cheek. "because i knew if i started, i wouldn't be able to stop."
"then don't stop."
the words leave your mouth before you can think. they hang in the air, bold and desperate.
"don't stop," you repeat. "please. i don't want you to stop."
sukuna goes still. so still that you wonder if he's stopped breathing.
"you don't know what you're asking."
"i do." you reach up, your fingers finding his face. you trace the planes of his cheeks, the sharp lines of his jaw, the curve of his lips. "you're my husband. i want you. all of you."
"i'll hurt you."
"i don't care."
"i'll break you."
"i don't care."
his breath hitches. and then, finally, finally, his lips crash against yours.
the kiss is desperate. hungry. it tastes like three months of longing, of confusion, of aching loneliness. his hand fists in your hair, pulling you closer, and you gasp against his mouth. his tongue slides against your lower lip, asking for entry, and you give it willingly.
he tastes like sake and power and something darker. something that makes your toes curl and your heart race.
he pulls back, breathless.
"tell me to stop, and i will."
"don't," you say immediately. "don't stop."
he groans. his hands slide down your back, gripping your hips, and he lays you down on the bed. you fall against the silk sheets, your hair spreading around you like a halo. you can't see him, but you can feel him—his weight on the bed, his heat surrounding you, his breath ghosting across your skin.
"m'gonna show you," he says, his voice low and rough. "m'gonna kiss every inch of your body. gonna taste you until you scream my name. i want to make you feel so good that you forget every single doubt you've ever had about yourself."
your breath catches. "ryomen—"
"let me." his lips brush against your neck. "let me show you how much i love you."
you nod, unable to speak.
his hands find the tie of your robe. he undoes it slowly, reverently, like he's unwrapping a gift he's been waiting centuries to open. the fabric falls away, cool air hitting your skin, and you shiver.
"beautiful," he breathes. "so fucking beautiful."
you feel his lips on your collarbone. soft. worshipful. he kisses down your chest, his tongue tracing a path between your breasts. his hands cup your breasts, thumbs brushing across your nipples, and you gasp.
"sensitive," he murmurs. "good. i'll remember that."
he takes one nipple into his mouth. his tongue circles the peak, slow and deliberate, and you arch into him with a desperate moan. he laves at you, sucking gently, nipping with his teeth until you're writhing beneath him.
"more," you gasp. "please—"
"patience." his voice is a dark promise. "i haven't even started with ya' yet."
he switches to the other breast, giving it the same attention. his hand slides down your stomach, fingers tracing patterns on your skin, until he reaches the apex of your thighs. you're already wet—embarrassingly wet—and he lets out a low growl when he feels it.
"fuck," he mutters against your skin. "you're soaked. f'me?"
"yes," you whimper. "only you."
he groans. his fingers slide through your folds, collecting your wetness, and you buck into his touch.
"tell me what you want."
"i want—" you gasp as his thumb circles your clit. "m'want your mouth."
his laugh is dark and breathless. "demanding little thing, aren't ya'?"
"please," you beg. "ryo, please—"
"shh." he kisses your stomach. "i'll give ya' what y'want."
he moves down your body, his lips leaving a trail of fire. he kisses your hips, your thighs, the inside of your knees. by the time he reaches your core, you're trembling, desperate, aching.
and then his tongue touches you.
you cry out, your hands flying to his hair. he laps at you like a man starved, his tongue sliding through your folds, circling your clit, dipping inside you. he moans against you, the vibration sending shockwaves through your body.
"taste s'good," he mutters against your skin. "could eat ya' forever."
he sucks your clit into his mouth, and you scream. your hips buck against his face, but he holds you down, his massive hands gripping your thighs. he alternates between sucking and licking, building a rhythm that has you climbing higher and higher.
"that's it," he praises. "let go f'me...lemme taste ya'."
his fingers find your entrance, sliding inside you without warning. two fingers, thick and long, stretching you. he curls them, hitting a spot that makes you see stars, and you shatter.
you come with a scream of his name, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure crash through you. he doesn't stop. he laps at you through your orgasm, drawing it out until you're sobbing from the intensity.
when you finally come down, he crawls up your body, his lips finding yours. you taste yourself on his tongue, and it's the most intimate thing you've ever experienced.
"m-more," you whisper. "m'want more."
his eyes—you can feel them—search your face.
"are you sure? we can stop. we can—"
"i'm sure." you reach for him, your fingers finding his chest. "i want you...please."
he hesitates. you feel the tension in his muscles, the restraint he's barely holding onto.
"m'bigger than ya'," he says, matter of factly. "a lot bigger. and i have...i have two dicks, woman. i don't know if—"
"i don't care." you pull him closer. "i trust you."
he groans, pressing his forehead against yours.
"if it hurts too much, tell me. and i'll stop."
"okay."
"promise me."
"i promise."
he shifts above you, and you feel something heavy and thick press against your thigh. and then another. two cocks. the thought should terrify you, but instead, it sends a thrill through your body.
he aligns himself with your entrance, and you feel the tip pressing against you. he's huge—so much bigger than his fingers—and you wonder if you can actually take him.
"relax f'me," he murmurs. "breathe."
you inhale deeply, and he pushes in.
just the tip, and you gasp. he's stretching you in a way that's almost unbearable. it hurts. there's a burning sensation, a pressure that's too much and not enough.
"shh," he soothes. "you're doing s'well. so good f'me."
he pushes deeper, inch by agonizing inch. you feel your body struggling to accommodate him, your walls clenching around his length. and then—
a sharp pain.
fuck...you forgot.
you cry out, your nails digging into his shoulders. he stops immediately.
"did i hurt ya'?"
you can't answer. the pain is fading, replaced by a strange fullness. you feel something wet trickle down your thigh. warm. sticky.
blood.
his eyes slowly flicker down, and you can hear his breath stop. he's tense. too tense.
"fuck," he hisses. "you're—you're a fuckin' virgin?"
you nod weakly, biting your lip. your heart is pounding fast. loud. "is that...bad?"
"no." his voice is strained. "no, it's not bad. i just—fuck—i didn't know. i would have been more careful, woman."
"you are being careful," you whisper, fingers pressing into his shoulders "keep going."
"you're fuckin' bleeding."
"i don't care. please. i want to feel you." you sniffle. god, the pleasure is making you bold. too fucking bold.
he lets out a shaky breath. "you're going to kill me."
but he pushes deeper, slower this time. gentler. his lips find yours, kissing you softly as he sinks into you. the pain fades, replaced by a deep, aching fullness that makes you moan.
when he's fully sheathed, he stops. lets you adjust. his forehead presses against yours, his breath ragged.
"y'feel incredible," he breathes. "so tight. so...fuck...perfect."
"move," you beg. "please."
he pulls out slowly, then pushes back in. the friction is delicious, the stretch exquisite. he sets a rhythm—slow, deep, deliberate—each thrust hitting a spot that makes you see stars.
"ryomen," you gasp. "r-ryo—"
"i know," he murmurs. "i know, doll. feels s'good, doesn't it?"
"yes—yes—"
his hand slides down your stomach, pressing against the slight bulge where he's buried inside you. the feeling makes you moan.
"look at that," he says, awe in his voice. "you can feel me, can't ya'? right here."
he presses down, and you feel it—the outline of him inside you. it's obscene. it's incredible.
"more," you gasp. "harder—"
"y'sure?"
"yes—please—"
he obliges. his pace quickens, his thrusts becoming more urgent. the bed creaks beneath you, the sound mixing with your moans and his grunts.
"gonna come," he warns. "where do you want it?"
"inside," you gasp. "please—i want to feel you—"
he groans, his hips slamming into yours. and then he's coming, hot and thick, filling you so completely. you feel it—his release pouring into you, painting your walls, claiming you from the inside. his cum is already trickling down your thigh, oozing out of your cunt.
at the same time, he's stroking his other cock. you feel the wet spurts hit your stomach, warm and sticky.
he collapses on top of you, careful not to crush you. his face buries in your neck, and you feel his breath, ragged and uneven.
"i love you," he whispers, gruff. it's funny. you've always thought the word love doesn't exist in his vocabulary. but here he is, saying it over and over again. "i love you so much it terrifies me."
you wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer.
"i love you too."
a long moment passes. then another. and then—
"we're going to do that again."
you laugh, breathless.
"right now?"
"after i clean you up." he kisses your neck. "and then again. and again. and again. until ya' can't walk."
"promise?"
he pulls back, and even though you can't see him, you know he's smirking.
"promise."
you're already half asleep when he pulls you against his chest, his arms wrapped around you like he's afraid you'll disappear. his lips press against your hair, your forehead, your eyelids.
"my wife," he murmurs. "my perfect, beautiful wife."
oml hubby!nanamin reminding you to breath during smex!
sorry for such the long hiatus loves :((
“where do you feel me baby? tell me.” you nails dug into the back of the man currently fucking the shit out of you, to the point where you were incoherent. your thighs pressed against your sweat glazed torso, his hips harshly colliding with yours, hitting the deepest and most sensitive spots you have.
“mmm! n-hereeeee!” you weakly moved one of your hands to your womb. he smiles, kissing your lips and then making home on your sensitive neck. where his moans and groans went straight to your ear.
nanami makes LOVE. he never fucks.
he wants you to lose yourself in the pleasure he gives you, always to the point where you’re overstimulated and almost can’t take it.
one thing nanami always noticed was how you don’t breath whenever you guys have sex. it’s not like when you ask him to slightly choke you, or when he shifts his weight on top of you when you guys are in prone bone. it’s whenever you guys are intimate in general, he has to stop and remind you every time :(
“baby, baby. breathhh.” he halts his hips, holding your face so your gaze is only focusing on him. not even a second passed and you’re gasping in and out, tears cradling down your brown cheeks. “there you go baby, there you go..” he slowly picks up his thrusts again, causing you to whine and whimper. trying your best not to fall into the habit of holding your breath again.
“m’gunna cuhmmm n-nana!” — “that’s my good girl. y-yeaa.” the knot in your stomach about to burst. his tip constantly hitting that spot that makes you feel dizzy. “it’s t’much!”
you whined. pushing against nanami’s abdomen, attempting to halt his thrusts for a moment. but he didn’t let up. “uh, uh baby. let out for me, let it out for your nana.” grabbing your wrists, and pinning it above your head.
the knot in your stomach snaps. squirting all over your husbands and thighs, coating them with your essence. it wasn’t too long until nanami reached his high. quickly pulling out and finishing on your stomach.
“did so good for me baby,” he lifted his hand from your wrist, using it to caress the side of your face.
thoughts about nanami barely handling his ravenous wife
it seemed you never grew tired of sex, unlike your husband.
that's not to say he doesn't like how often you want to fuck him. he'd never say no to you, especially not when you beg so sweetly, sometimes with a pout or twinkle in your eyes. the mere sight gets him ready to go in no time, previous tasks long forgotten.
he's just surprised, that's all.
nanami quietly rejected that he was "attractive." he never saw it himself, never boasted about it. by the way you always paw at him, initiate foreplay, and the many other titillating things you do, maybe he could finally accept that he was indeed above average.
he was confused when at the four month mark of your relationship, you seemed on edge constantly.
"one more round," you'd whimper in the morning, knowing one would surely turn into two or three.
"show me," you'd say, begging him to try that new method for stronger orgasms he read about in an article. it worked, yes, but his original ways were definitely better.
back aching, jaw clenched, he'd walk into your shared home. his sorcerer days were long over, yet regular life still takes a toll on him. the grasp of bills, responsibility, and annoying coworkers could never be shaken off, always there to make him regret continuing to work.
yet for some reason, you didn't see any of that. you didn't see a man broken by years of labor, dying for an ounce of coffee.
you saw your husband, tie loosened, thin sheen of sweat coating his skin, hair pushed to the side in a way only you'd ever get to see. dirty thoughts were already crawling into your mind, fantasizing about him.
the way his belt shone under the lamplight, all you could think of was him taking it off and-
"what are you staring at?" he's staring back at you, brows furrowed in that cute way that marks confusion.
"just my hot husband," you'd always say. he watched how your thighs clenched a little, how handsy you got that evening.
"i'm starting to feel like a piece of meat," he'd joke, taking off his tie. that same tie ended up around your wrists, used as leverage to pull you back into his mean thrusts. he's your piece of meat.
the older you got, it seemed the hornier you got. he expected the exact opposite; "she'll get sick of me by the time we're 50," he sometimes thought. he couldn't have been more wrong.
nanami is the kind of man that grows finer with age. grey hairs at his temple, slight stubble, a new layer of fat on his stomach, what's not to love?
"stop lying to me, woman."
"i'm not lying!" you'd retort, giggling.
for whatever reason, he can't see that you love him no matter how much he changes with age.
"your gut just means that i feed you well! it's hot!"
he's hiding his head in his hands, ears poking out with a dusty blush across them.
mumbling, he says "my wife is a pervert." (took him long enough to realize.)
no matter how much his back aches, nanami kento will never stop pleasing his wife. in the morning, occasionally at noon, and at night, he'll always make time to fuck you just the way you need it, because he needs it too.
masterlist
a/n: this idea came to me randomly. if i was nanami's wife, trust we'd be going at it everyday!
(btw, not tagging as smut cause there's no actual descriptions of nanami bending you over or anything)
thoughts about nanami barely handling his ravenous wife
it seemed you never grew tired of sex, unlike your husband.
that's not to say he doesn't like how often you want to fuck him. he'd never say no to you, especially not when you beg so sweetly, sometimes with a pout or twinkle in your eyes. the mere sight gets him ready to go in no time, previous tasks long forgotten.
he's just surprised, that's all.
nanami quietly rejected that he was "attractive." he never saw it himself, never boasted about it. by the way you always paw at him, initiate foreplay, and the many other titillating things you do, maybe he could finally accept that he was indeed above average.
he was confused when at the four month mark of your relationship, you seemed on edge constantly.
"one more round," you'd whimper in the morning, knowing one would surely turn into two or three.
"show me," you'd say, begging him to try that new method for stronger orgasms he read about in an article. it worked, yes, but his original ways were definitely better.
back aching, jaw clenched, he'd walk into your shared home. his sorcerer days were long over, yet regular life still takes a toll on him. the grasp of bills, responsibility, and annoying coworkers could never be shaken off, always there to make him regret continuing to work.
yet for some reason, you didn't see any of that. you didn't see a man broken by years of labor, dying for an ounce of coffee.
you saw your husband, tie loosened, thin sheen of sweat coating his skin, hair pushed to the side in a way only you'd ever get to see. dirty thoughts were already crawling into your mind, fantasizing about him.
the way his belt shone under the lamplight, all you could think of was him taking it off and-
"what are you staring at?" he's staring back at you, brows furrowed in that cute way that marks confusion.
"just my hot husband," you'd always say. he watched how your thighs clenched a little, how handsy you got that evening.
"i'm starting to feel like a piece of meat," he'd joke, taking off his tie. that same tie ended up around your wrists, used as leverage to pull you back into his mean thrusts. he's your piece of meat.
the older you got, it seemed the hornier you got. he expected the exact opposite; "she'll get sick of me by the time we're 50," he sometimes thought. he couldn't have been more wrong.
nanami is the kind of man that grows finer with age. grey hairs at his temple, slight stubble, a new layer of fat on his stomach, what's not to love?
"stop lying to me, woman."
"i'm not lying!" you'd retort, giggling.
for whatever reason, he can't see that you love him no matter how much he changes with age.
"your gut just means that i feed you well! it's hot!"
he's hiding his head in his hands, ears poking out with a dusty blush across them.
mumbling, he says "my wife is a pervert." (took him long enough to realize.)
no matter how much his back aches, nanami kento will never stop pleasing his wife. in the morning, occasionally at noon, and at night, he'll always make time to fuck you just the way you need it, because he needs it too.
masterlist
a/n: this idea came to me randomly. if i was nanami's wife, trust we'd be going at it everyday!
(btw, not tagging as smut cause there's no actual descriptions of nanami bending you over or anything)
Valko had grown up being told that when he'd meet his mate, he'd know. He would stay up so many nights, asking his mom to tell the story of how she met his dad, how she knew that his dad was the one. No matter how many times he'd hear the story, he'd never get tired.
Maybe that was why he believed in love stories. Because how could he not? His parents' was the love story for the ages.
However, seeing how old he was now, he was starting to lose hope.
He had travelled the world, met countless people, and never once had he ever met someone that made him pause. That stole his breath, that made his wolf go wild, that pulled him as if they were meant for him.
Sure, there had been relationships, good fucks- some were genuinely nice women. One relationship had even lasted two years because it was so comfortable. But that was all it was. Comfortable. No one ever captured his heart. No one ever made his soul burn. No one ever made his wolf yearn for them.
Not the way his mother had always told that she did for his father.
So he told himself that love could wait. It would have to wait. He just focused more and more on the company. On his career. On everything other than what he wanted to seek out.
Even now, he was sitting at his desk, overseeing some papers when his assistant knocked.
"Sir?" He popped his head in the office. "We have a bit of a situation downstairs."
"What now, Simon?" Valko sighed and looked up.
"Uh.. there's a woman downstairs. In the lobby. Won't leave until she sees you." Simon explained.
"So? Call security or whatever-" Valko waved him away.
"That's the problem part." Simon swallowed. "She's not doing anything. She's just sitting there. Says that she needs 5 minutes only. Says that she'll wait."
"Wait?" Valko's brows furrowed and Simon nodded. He inhaled deeply and paused. "I'll handle it." Valko said slowly and then took another deep breath.
There were the usual smells. Office cedar, air fresheners, stale coffee, and something new. Different. Sweeter.
Valko closed his laptop and took out his nasal blockers. He usually wore them so his sense of smell wouldn't constantly be assaulting and distracting him. He took another deep breath and suddenly felt his wolf pawing at the back of his throat.
That was new. His wolf never did that. Had never done that.
He walked out of his office and the smell grew stronger. He followed it all the way down to the lobby and there you were. His heart stuttered, his wolf practically tried to claw out of his chest. He had to put his nasal blocker back in so to not lose control and show the whole building his tail.
"I heard you were looking for me." He said smoothly with a smile, offering his hand.
"Mr Ao! Hello!" You smiled brightly and his knees almost buckled. "I'm so sorry for showing up like this but I called and no appointments were available until next month and-"
He wasn't listening. He couldn't. You were shaking his hand and that's all that mattered. All this time he'd spent looking- Somehow you'd come to him. Just shown up out of thin air.
"But anyway- I found a backdoor vulnerability in your new healthcare app-" You pulled away from his hand and he almost reached out to grab you again. You didn't notice that. You were too busy opening your laptop to show him what you'd found. "I have a small cyber security start up." You explained. "And I thought that if I'd emailed you about this, it might look like a scam or something -"
You were still talking but all Valko was doing was looking at you. Your hair, your eyes, your smile, the way your mouth moved as you spoke, your hands as they glided over the keys on your laptop. Whereas his wolf was purring because he was just near you. A soft chant churning in his head. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate.
"See?" You smiled, showing him your laptop screen. "That could lead to potential data leaks." Valko nodded. He had heard absolutely nothing you'd said. "Whoever built the authentication layer probably forgot to tie up the loose ends- It's nothing catastrophic. Yet." You turned to him and he was just... There. Without a single working braincell.
"Right... Can you show me the code again please?" He tried to piece together what you'd said.
You nodded and put your laptop on the receptionist's desk. Valko moved closer to look at your laptop over your shoulder and definitely not to smell you.
The nasal blocker was there but this close, he could still smell you. Like pine after rain. Like a warm beach day. Like midnight after a thick snow. Everything was so crisp and you were showing him a code that looked like hieroglyphics at the moment.
"Mr Ao?" You asked, unsure if he was even listening.
"I'm sorry." He gave an easy smile to cover up the torment inside him. "I'm a little distracted. Work and all-" He lied. Oh god I just lied to my mate what would mother say? He cleared his throat. "If you could give me your number, perhaps we can arrange a proper sit down and discuss this?" And then afterwards I'll throw you over my shoulder and we'll disappear for at least a month.
You smiled again and his wolf preened. You were smiling at him. For him.
"Of course." You handed him your business card.
"I'll take very good care of this." And you. Oh god I'll take such good care of you. He slipped the business card into his pocket.
You nodded, "Well.. um- I should go- I'm sorry for causing a scene and-"
Cause as many scenes as you want. Anything you want. His brain was burning up. This was everything and more than what his mother had told him would feel like.
"Thank you." He breathed out as you put your laptop on your bag. "For finding this." And me. Thank you for finding me. "We would have landed in a lot of trouble and lawsuits if you hadn't."
"It's really no problem. You're doing good work. I didn't want it to stop just because someone made a mistake." You assured him. "Thank you again for your time, Mr Ao."
"Valko. Please, call me Valko." He said softly. You'll be saying it for the rest of life, soon enough.
"Valko." You repeated and his wolf purred in his chest.
He shook your hand again, his other hand coming to cover yours completely. "I hope to see you again soon." And then never let you go.
his thumbs dig into your inner thighs, holding you open as he obscenely slurps the sweet mix of your arousal and his spit as one eats a bowl of ramen.
it's the same, torturous style. his tongue flattened over your parted, glistening lips, lapping the juices out of your pulsing hole and back up to your clit--giving it a firm lick before he buries his face into your cunt.
your scent acts like a siren’s call, the sweetness consuming him all at once. valko is feverishly hot, lips latching onto your hole and his sinful tongue coaxing out more of your sweetness.
"are you even-ah!-gonna make me cum?" he's not once sucked on your clit. no, he's been edging you with kitten licks. "if not I can just use my vibe."
you think it'll rile him up. instead, his gaze snaps at you, ears tucked down like a kicked puppy.
"n-no, no, fuck..." he begs, unable to keep himself from tasting you again. "i can't help it. I've never been this close to you..."
he dives in again. "s'killin me." his voice vibrates against your clit, as he takes it into his mouth.
"ngh valko... like that," your hips rock themself into his mouth. but then he let's go of your clit to eat your gushing juices.
"are you serious--" your fingers thread into his hair.
"please--just a little more." his fingers plunge into your hole.
𝒯oji gets tired of you whining for him to go faster, so he flips you over and makes you ride him and do all the work.
1.4k words, quick read 𝑓𝑡. rough!toji ( +18 )
The apartment was quiet except for the low, rhythmic and ragged sound of your own breathing.
Toji didn't look like a man who was currently holding your hips in a vice grip, pinning you to the mattress while he took his time. He looked completely unbothered. His hair was a bit messy, sticking to his forehead with a light sheen of sweat, but his eyes were entirely steady, fixed on your face with a lazy, satisfied smirk. He was pacing himself, deliberate and agonizingly slow, ignoring the way you were clutching at his broad shoulders, your fingers digging into his skin.
"Babeee, please," you whined, your voice thick and dazed. The friction was driving you out of your mind, a sweet, heavy ache building deep in your core. You arched your back, trying to force a quicker pace, but he just chuckled.
"Please what, princess?" he teased. He shifted just a fraction, hitting a spot that made your toes curl and a pathetic gasp slip past your lips. "You gotta speak up. I can't understand you when you're making noises like that."
"You're doing it on purpose," you cried out, your head rolling back against the pillows. Your skin was flushed, and your eyes were hooded, completely lost in the haze of what he was doing to you. "Stop playing. Faster. Just go faster."
"Nah. I like looking at you like this," he said, completely nonchalant. He leaned down, pressing a lazy kiss to the column of your neck, his stubble scraping against your skin just enough to make you shiver. "All needy and impatient. Suits you."
Then, without a single word of warning, he pulled completely out of you.
The sudden emptiness was like a physical shock. You let out a devastated whine, your hands instantly flying to his chest to push him back, but Toji was already moving. With effortless, he grabbed your waist, flipped you over, and settled himself flat on his back.
You were left stranded, sitting on his thighs, shivering from the cold air hitting your damp skin. The loss of his warmth made you desperate. Your head was spinning, your breath coming in short, uneven puffs as you stared down at him, completely overwhelmed.
Toji just linked his hands behind his head, flexing his broad chest, a wicked amused tilt to his lips. "Your turn," he said, his tone was casual, like he was asking you what you wanted for dinner. "Go ahead. Ride it."
"Toji, no, I'm tired," you whined, your voice cracking as you leaned forward, resting your forearms against his chest. You looked down at him with wide, tear-brimmed eyes, your lower lip trembling. "In…Put it back in. Please. I can't move."
"Sure you can princess," he murmured, his thumb reaching up to lazily stroke your bottom lip, dragging it down. "You want it, don't you? Look at you, you're practically shaking. Just take it."
You let out a frustrated, desperate sound, a mix of a sob and a groan. The ache between your thighs was unbearable, a loud, throbbing demand that completely overrode your exhaustion. You couldn't wait for him to change his mind. Guided by pure, unadulterated need, you shifted your weight, lifting yourself up just enough to reach down. Your fingers were trembling as you guided him to your opening, the wet, hot friction making you gasp before you even sat down.
Slowly, you pressed yourself down onto him, taking his cock back in all at once.
A heavy, low groan finally broke through Toji’s nonchalant facade, his stomach muscles rippling under your knees as he took a sharp breath. Your eyes fluttered shut, a wave of intense relief washing over you as you finally felt full again. You sank completely onto his lap, resting your forehead against his collarbone for a second, just breathing him in.
"Fuck babe.., just like that," Toji muttered, his hands coming up to rest casually on your hips, not forcing you yet, just anchoring you. "Don't stop now. You were complaining so much, let's see it."
Driven by the sheer desperation to chase that peak, you started to move. At first, it was clumsy and slow, your muscles aching from the effort, but the sensation was too good to care. You lifted yourself and sank back down, finding a rhythm that made you cry out, your head tossing side to side.
Toji didn't move a muscle to help. He just lay there, a spectator to your undoing, watching you with an intense, burning gaze. He watched the way your hips rolled, the way your boobs bounced, and the sheer, unbridled pleasure written across your face. Every time you whined his name, his grip on your hips tightened just a fraction, but he let you keep the reins. For ten minutes straight, you set the pace, completely consumed by him, riding it as if your life depended on it. You were panting, sweat dripping down your spine, your thighs burning, but you couldn't stop. You were entirely under his spell, and the feeling of his cock inside you was just magical.
"Toji... Toji, I'm close, I'm gonna—" you gasped, your voice breaking as the tension reached a fever pitch.
Suddenly, the lazy spectator disappeared.
Toji’s hands shot up from your hips, his large palms cupping your ass roughly, forcing your face down so you had to look him dead in the eye. His expression had completely hardened, the playful smirk gone, replaced by something hungry, and entirely dominant.
"Then let’s finish it," he growled.
Before you could even process the command, his right hand snapped down, delivering a sharp, stinging slap right across your bare ass. The crack of it echoed in the quiet room, the sudden spike of pain and heat sending a violent jolt straight to your core. You screamed, your internal muscles clenching around him so tightly he let out a choked hiss.
"Faster, princess. Move," he ordered, his voice dropping an octave as he slapped you again, harder this time, driving you into a frenzy.
The combination of the pain, the dirt-dirty friction, and the absolute authority in his voice broke whatever restraint you had left. You started moving frantically, your hips slamming down against his, completely wild and unhinged. Toji met you halfway now, he gripped your hips and arched his pelvis upward, driving himself deeper into you, his hand gripping your cheek so hard your lips parted, forcing you to take his deep, rough kisses while you rode him to the absolute brink.
Then the room blurred, your vision went wet at the edges, and with one final, stinging slap to your thigh and a rough upward thrust from him. You collapsed forward onto his chest, sobbing out his name as your body violently convulsed around him, entirely spent, while Toji buried his face in your neck, pulling you impossibly closer.
And right at that exact second, he came out.
You felt the sudden, thick heat of him bursting deep inside you, a heavy, pulsing torrent that felt incredibly warm against your sensitive walls. He filled you to the absolute brim, each thick pulse of his cum sending a fresh wave of aftershocks through your body. He kept thrusting up, short and intense, milking every last drop out of himself until he was panting heavily into the crook of your neck, his large frame trembling slightly against yours.
"Fuck," Toji breathed out, his voice was rough and low. He didn't pull out ; he just lay there, soaking, his hands rubbing slow, soothing circles into your lower back where the skin was still flushed from his slaps. "You really tried to drain me dry today, huh?"
You let out a weak, pathetic whine, too exhausted to even lift your head. "Shut up... you told me to go faster."
He shifted his hips just a fraction, a lazy, shallow tilt that made you whimpering as the friction caught you off guard. "And who was the one begging me to go faster a minute ago?"
"Mhhh," you whined, hiding your face deeper into his neck, your cheeks burning.
Slowly, the fog in your brain began to clear, replaced by a soft, heavy languor. He was still buried deep inside you, thick and yielding, the warmth of his cum slowly leaking out and pooling between your thighs where your skin met. It was a messy, intimate sensation that made you let out a soft, embarrassed whine, shifting your hips slightly to try and pull away.
"Uh-uh," Toji mumbled, his large hands sliding down to cup your ass, locking you firmly in place. He didn't sound tired; he just sounded incredibly pleased with himself. "Where do you think you're going?"
"Babe... it's messy," you mumbled into his skin, your voice incredibly small, dazed, and completely spent. "Let me up."
He chuckled, a low rumble that vibrated right through your chest. "Stop acting like I don't see that pussy cumming every day of the week and besides I like being inside you. You're so tight, princess. Still squeezing me." he murmured, a low rumble vibrating through his chest against yours making you stay in place. He shifted slightly, the movement causing a bit of the warm fluid to slick between your thighs, making you twitch. "You’ve been a good girl today. You took every drop of it. Wet, till the end babe."
"Don't start." You complained, your voice muffled against his neck, a sleepy heat warming your cheeks at his dirty talk.
"What? I'm praising you," he chuckled, the familiar amusement returning to his tone.
He tilted your chin up, his eyes hooded but incredibly soft as he pulled you into a deep, slow kiss. It wasn't rushed or demanding like before; it was lazy, tasting of salt and heavy breathing, his tongue sliding against yours in a calm, comforting rhythm that finally made your heart rate start to slow down.
When he broke the kiss, he didn't move away. Instead, he slid his hands up your ribcage, lazily framing your breasts. He leaned his head down, pressing his face right into your chest.
"Thanks for the meal, princess," he mumbled, his voice muffled by your skin.
Before you could even process the words, he blew a loud, vibrating kiss right against the underside of your left breast.
The sudden sensation made you gasp and immediately burst into a breathless laugh, your whole body shaking. "Toji! Stop, that tickles!"
"Nope. Gotta show proper appreciation," he muttered against your skin, completely unbothered by your squirming. He moved over to the right one, his lips wrapped around your nipple. He sucked on it lazily, a slow, rhythmic pull that sent a direct, sweet ache straight back down. You let out a shaky gasp, your fingers tangling in his hair as he used his tongue to swirl around the peak, kissing the soft, dark slope of your breast, that contrasted entirely with how rough he had just been, before planting a series of loud, smacking kisses all over them. "Very good. Five stars. Highly recommend."
"You are so stupid," you giggled, your hands weakly push at his dark hair, though you were smiling so wide your cheeks ached.
Toji finally chuckled, wrapping his arms fully around your waist."You're so good for me," he murmured against your skin, his voice was low as he switched again to your left breast, giving it the same slow, attention. It gave a tiny, deliberate twitch inside you, reminding you exactly who owned your body right now. "Fucking perfect." And he finally burying his face in the crook of your neck, content to just hold you there, pinned to his chest, while the sticky warmth of the aftermath settled between you.
a/n: yeah happy birthday to my beloved babe #missingudaily <3 minors DNI
the once silky sheets you spent the afternoon smoothing out with care—were now a ruined, damp mess beneath you. your wetness had soaked through in dark patches, the rose petals that had once been artfully scattered now crushed and clinging to your skin, your thighs, and nanami's hips as he drove into you with deep, punishing strokes.
he had you face down, chest pressed into the mattress, ass up in the perfect angle for him to rail you from behind. one of his hands gripped your hip hard enough to leave marks, while the other braced beside your head, caging you in as his cock stretched and filled your soaked cunt over and over again. the wet, obscene slap of skin against skin filled the bedroom, mixing with your muffled moans into the pillow and his low grunts.
truthfully, nanami hadn't expected this when he stepped through the door after a long, exhausting day at work. he expected a quiet dinner, maybe watch a movie and cuddle with you. that was what he'd imagined for his birthday.
instead he came home to rose petals had guided him straight to your shared bedroom, the room glowing with soft candlelight, a bottle of his favorite whiskey waiting on the nightstand, a massive banner stretched across the headboard reading "happy birthday, my love!!" and you—his beautiful wife, completely bare and waiting for him like a gift.
what else could he do but take full advantage?
"fuck....darling," nanami groaned, his voice rough as he slammed into you harder, the thick head of his cock dragging against that sweet spot inside you with every thrust. "you did all of this for me? such a thoughtful wife."
he leaned down, his bare chest pressing to your back, his lips brushed against your ear as he slowed just enough to grind deep, letting you feel every inch. "does it feel good? am i making you feel good sweetheart?"
you whimpered, pushing back against him, your walls clenching greedily around his cock. yhe stretch was perfect—almost too full, the way only he could make you feel without ever complaining. every thrust sent sparks of pleasure shooting up your spine, your clit throbbing from the stimulation of the sheets rubbing against it every time he thrusts into you.
"it's...ahh—so perfect," you gasped, turning your head to the side so he could see your flushed tear streaked face. "harder ken please..."
an appreciative sound came from him. even now, buried balls deep in your cunt, he was still him—your nanami. the sweet caring man you married. he pressed a tender kiss to your shoulder before he straightened up again, both hands gripping your hips as he picked up the pace. the bed creaked beneath you, the headboard thumping softly against the wall in time with his thrusts.
"such a good girl," he murmured, voice steady despite the way his cock twitched inside you.
"so so good to me..." he whispers, mostly to himself as he pulled out almost completely, teasing your entrance with just the tip, before driving back in with one smooth, powerful stroke that made your eyes roll back, a squeal slipping from you. the friction felt electric—your slick walls fluttering around his thick length, the lewd squelch of your arousal echoing louder with every movement.
you moaned, fingers gripping in the ruined sheets. "ken! yes fuck..right there—hah, you're so deep,"
he rewards you with another thrust, rolling his hips in that deliberate way that made your toes curl. one hand slid up your back, gentle even as he fucked you, fingers tracing your spine before tangling in your hair, holding you in place as he leaned over you again.
"look at the mess you've made sweetheart," he teased against your ear. "all this for my birthday? seems i have to keep you all mine if you keep spoiling me like this hm?"
his hand slipped from your hair to underneath you, finding your swollen clit and rubbing slow, firm circles that had you crying out. "i want to feel you cum around me baby, can you do that for me?"
regardless of the struggle, you nodded your head frantically, as the pleasure leasure coiled tight in your stomach building up fast as your cunt squeezing him rhythmically, teetering right on the edge.
"ohh ken, i'm so close—don't stop!"
your orgasm crashed over you, thighs shaking as you moaned his name into the sheets, waves of intense pleasure pulsing through your body while he kept fucking you through it, drawing it out with deep, steady strokes. "fuck—can i cum inside sweetheart? please..make us a family yeah?"
you whimpered at his words, your walls clenched around him at the thought of making a family with your husband. "yes—please do it..i wanna start a family with you—ah!"
the second you confirmed what he hoped you would, his pace picks up once more, chasing his orgasm as he thanks you repeatedly. he twitches inside, hips stuttering as he suddenly cums in you, warm ropes of his cum filling you all the way as he whispers praises against you.
"so perfect.." he mumbles, slowly pulling out of you, watching the mix of your joint orgasm spilling out of you in awe. "happy birthday again kento, i love you."
there’s just something about you seeing you on top of him that turns his insides into a syrupy mess, knees weak. maybe it’s because kento nanami is a man who strives on order and control, and you’ve found a way to slither your way through his system.
it’s probably because when you murmur his name in that honeyed voice of yours, he knows he’s a total goner.
“mm, my beautiful wife,” he rumbles, hands smoothing over your waist, eyes lidded as he watches your hips rise and fall in that slow, tantalizing rhythm that drives him mad. “doing such a good job, sweetheart.”
all you can manage is a series of little moans in return, too caught up in how his cock feels inside you, so perfectly nudged in your walls, filling you just right. how his tip bumps against that gooey spot that makes you clench around him tighter, or how he groans your name with a low, rough sound.
there’s your tits, too — nanami’s always been rather partial to them — that he loves to capture between his lips, biting down gently on the stiffened peaks. he loves how you squeal his name, mouth curving into a cute little smile, and he loves how you manage to look so adorable and utterly debauched at the same time.
if his lips aren’t on you he’s cupping your chest with such devoted reverence, so softly. the contrast from how he pistons his cock into you, sharp and quick, makes your mind blank.
nanami’s favourite part of it all, perhaps, is that he can look up at your pretty face when you finish. he loves seeing your features twist in pleasure, your kiss-swollen lips part, brows furrowing just slightly. your eyes rolling back as you climax, gushing a mess around his cock, hands digging into his shoulders hard enough to leave little crescents.
and after he’s made you cum at least four times (he’s a man, after all), you droop down onto his chest, burying your face in his neck, clinging onto his biceps. he coos your name gently, strokes your hair, and smiles to himself when you whine about being too sore to walk tomorrow.
Painfully shy reader getting absolutely obliterated drunk at the pub, losing all sense of timidity, and telling Gaz and Soap "I bet the reason Ghost actually hides his face is 'cause he knows everybody'd wanna sit on it".
Ghost overhearing, leaning over your shoulder, and letting you know "I'm just keeping your seat clean until you're ready to sit on it, love".
Obviously Simon fucks the embarrassment out of you the next day, but only after making sure you get your reserved seat nice and wet.
nanami’s veiny cock stretched you open over the sink, the dishes long forgotten in your hands. you could feel your knees threatening to give out every time he snapped his hips forward, feeling tears streaming down your cheeks as loud moans left your parted lips. “kento—please—”
nanami's gaze never left your body. he observed how it jiggled with even the slightest movement. you could feel every vein of him inside you, his pink tip brushing deliciously against your cervix.
your husband pressed his damp forehead against your shoulder as he slammed his hips into you relentlessly, cock twitching at your tightness. your own slick dripped down your thighs.
"looking so pretty for me—fuck, so tight—like the perfect little wife.” he mumbled, unable to stop himself. sliding his hand down to rub excruciatingly slow circles on your sensitive bud, which you responded by letting out a sharp cry.
you could feel yourself growing closer and closer to your orgasm, moaning loudly enough for the entire building to hear (already bracing yourself for the noise complaints you were undoubtedly going to receive tomorrow). you bit your bottom lip, trying your best to muffle the sounds escaping you. "nanami—feels s’good!" you gasped. "so deep, kento—gonna—"
you weren't able to finish your words as a warm wave of pleasure washed over your body, leaving you shaking and gushing on him. "yes, darling. make a mess on kento. such a good girl." nanami gritted through his teeth.
"please, cum inside me. i need your cum" you whimpered.
nanami's cock twitched once, twice, before he came inside you with a loud groan. filling you so deep you were dripping with his cum. his hips snapped forward one last time before he slowly pulled out and held you as you steadied yourself.
"did i leave you unsatisfied last night, kento?" you joked breathlessly, and the two of you chuckled.
“i fear that would be impossible” he replied softly. "i’m sorry, my love. you just looked too gorgeous."
you adjusted your dress, turned to face him and wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your soft lips against his. there was nothing more nanami could wish for.
.
.
.
made by toruslut. idk how i feel abt this one but ugh isn’t he just so dreamy
୨୧ — You were drooling, eyes rolling back as you dug your nails into his shoulders trying to slow Valko down. Useless. Your legs wrapped around his waist, heels digging into his lower back as he drove into you, his name falling from your lips like a prayer between desperate pants.
“V-Val- hhahh- Val-ko- s'too- m'gonna- too m-much-“
Words? What were those? Your brain had turned to mush about three orgasms ago.
A whimper caught in your throat. Tears pricked at your lashes at the stretch, at being so fucking full, like he'd shoved your organs aside to make room.
“Hah-“ His voice broke, and you could feel every muscle in his body trembling, fighting something feral as his tail lashed wildly behind him. “Tryna be gentle but you-“
He fucked you like a beast anyway. Forehead pressed to yours, ears flat against his head, panting into your mouth. Your slick made the filthiest sounds every time he thrust home and when his teeth found your neck hard enough to break skin, the noise you made had his rhythm stuttering.
“Sorry- ngh- didn't mean-“ But he didn't stop. Couldn't.
His hand slid under your back, arching you up into him. The other pinned your wrist to the mattress. Blood smeared across your throat from his lips.
“That's it, that’s my good girl-“ Completely gone. Ruined.
You came screaming and do you think that made him slow down? Fuck no. He didn't slow down even a little.
“Again.” Barely a whisper. Begging. Pleading for just one more scream from those pretty lips…
“Valko- can't- no more-“
His ears drooped, this wounded little sound in his chest, “I know babe, m'sorry-“ His hips snapped forward anyway, “what’s a pup supposed to do? You just feel so good- cant- shit- can’t stop-“
Your cunt was a sloppy, ruined mess at this point- syrupy strings of your cum and arousal coating his cock, smearing creamy across your inner thighs. You could feel yourself dripping between your ass, making a puddle beneath you.
Then something big started pressing at your entrance.
You felt it before your sex stupid brain could process it- this thick, swelling pressure at your already stuffed hole. Stretching you wider. Wider. Too wide-
His knot.
It shoved inside with a wet POP and you shrieked, back bowing clean off the mattress, nails carving bleeding trenches down his spine. The sudden fullness -that fat bulge locking him in, plugging you up, pressing against every sensitive nerve- had your vision whiting out again. Your cunt spasmed around him, another orgasm cresting before the last one even finished, milking his knot in desperate fluttering clenches.
“Huh? What happened?” Total confusion. His ears shot up, head tilting, “You alright babe? Did I do something?”
“Your- your fucking knot- fuckfuckfuck-“ you choked out.
“What?” He blinked down at you, all golden puppy eyes while his monster sized knot split you in half, “What's wrong with it?”
“Ser -seriously? Sh’too- It's s’too big-“
“It is?” As he smirks he shifts his weight and you damn near passed out, “seems fine to me?”
You laughed -or sobbed, hard to tell- and it broke into a moan when he rolled his hips experimentally. You grabbed his hand and shoved it down between your bodies, pressing it against the bulge in your lower belly. Obscene. Fucking obscene.
“Valko.”
He looked down. Blinked. His tail started wagging. Actually wagging!
“Oh wow.” Like he'd found something mildly interesting, “That's pretty crazy.”
“YEAH.”
“Does it actually hurt?” He pressed against the bulge with genuine curiosity and your eyes nearly rolled back into your skull. Tail still going.
“Do you- hahh- do you seriously not know- how huge-“
“Dunno, never measured?” He dropped a casual kiss on your forehead, sweet as anything, while his fat fucking knot throbbed like it was trying to reshape your insides. “Always been like this. Annnnd those noises don’t really convince me you’re in pain.”
You were gonna fucking murder him. Right after you finished losing your mind on his cock.
He ground down into you and you came so hard you forgot your own name, pussy clenching around him like a goddamn vice.
“Oh- shit- shit-“ Finally cracking, his voice going high and whiney, “Squeezing me so tight, you’re gonna make me-“
He buried his face in your neck and came with a broken whine, and you felt it- pulse after pulse of hot cum pumping into you, filling you up til your belly rounded out even more. His arms caged you in, tail thumping against the mattress as he bred you full.
“S'good,” he slurred against your throat…
“Valko,” you whimpered, brain leaking out your ears., “M'so full-“
“Mm?” He sounded so pleased with himself.
Still absolutely clueless.
Way later -who even knows how long- he was still on top of you, weight braced on his elbows so he didn't crush you. His knot pulsed lazy and another warm gush filled you up.
“Hey,” he mumbled into your hair, and you could hear the grin in his voice.
“Mm.”
“So...” His fingers walked playfully up your side, making you squirm- which only made you clench around his knot and whimper, “You think my knot's big, huh?”
“Shut up.”
“Nah but like-“ He propped himself up to look at you, smirking, tail swishing, “You were really loud about it. Pretty sure the neighbors know now.”
“I hate you.”
“Mmhm.” He rolled his hips just slightly -enough to make you gasp- and his grin widened. “That why you're still milking my cock right now?”
Your face burned, “I- I can't- it's involuntary-“
“Sure it is.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek, nuzzling, “S'okay baby. I think it's cute how much you love my huge knot.”
“I never said-“
“‘S'so fucking big Valko,'”he mimicked in a breathy voice, and you smacked his chest while he snickered. “'Your knot Valko, oh my god-“
“I do NOT sound like that.”
“You kinda do.” Another lazy grind. Another gush of cum. His eyes glittered. “Wanna hear what else you said? Got real creative toward the end there.”
You shoved at his shoulder uselessly. He didn't budge, just laughed and buried his face in your neck, pressing smiling kisses to your skin.
“M'just teasing, babe” His tail curled around your thigh, “youre cute when you're embarrassed.” He nuzzled the tippy top of your head.
“I'm gonna kill you when your knot finally goes down.”
“Mm, that's fair.” He snuggled closer, entirely unbothered, “Gives me like twenty more minutes to annoy you though.”
His hips shifted again, lazy and deliberate, and the noise you made was mortifying.
Men who take off your shoes, carefully peel your sheer tights to massage and kiss the arch of your foot before resting your legs on their shoulder and burying their face on your pussy vs. Men who toss you face down, ass up, and tear up a hole in your tights so they can eat you out from the back through it
Long hours and useless coworkers grate on Nanami’s nerves throughout the day, it only makes sense that his girlfriend has enough meat on her bones for him to grip onto as he unloads all that pent up agitation.
“Ken— s-slow down!” You moan, words muffled by the pillow you’re being fucked into. Nanami’s chest is pressed firmly against your back, each hard glistening muscle melting against the plush softness of your skin. The warmth makes him grown low in his throat.
“Not yet, sweetheart.” He grunts, lips ghosting over your red ear. Each breath is hot and sticky as it hits your skin, smelling of black coffee and something so mouth wateringly him. His blunt nails dig into your hips, large palms swallowing the soft fat that’ll be tinted a dusky purple by morning. “Too fucking perfect— you wanted to help me unwind, can’t take that back now.” His words leave his lips and travel down to your clit, the nub hard and throbbing as your cunt drools around his cock. His mushroom tip knocks against your cervix with each bullying thrust. Your arousal coats his shaft, dribbling down his balls so each time he meets your pelvis a loud slap rings loud in your ears.
He can’t help himself, you’re too perfect. The second he got home his hands were on you, his lips on yours as he forced you to grind against his thigh. His hands gripped your love handles, moving your hips by himself as you whined for him to just fuck you already— and now that he is you don’t know how to act.
“S’too much! Ken— I’m gonna cum—“
The sound that leaves his throat is nothing short of animalistic, a deep guttural growl that makes you tighten around him even more. “Then cum for me, Angel. Just don’t expect me to stop.”
