Warning: FWB...?, Confession...?, Protective Sex (Wrap it up), also Unprotected Sex, Multiple Sex Positions, Squirting...?, Bratty Reader (Sometimes...), Jealous Reader!, SoftDom! Guy, Praise Kink...?, Creampie, Basically, NSFW. 🤷🏻♀️
Also, be mindful that I didn't really mention much of the reader's appearance (Besides, she's a female since I wanted to keep it vague for everyone to relate as much as possible, though it is definitely for the most voluptuous side of ladies. 😊
Please be mindful that the photos are not mine, but the making of the college is.
MINOR DNI!!!! 🔞🙅🏻♀️ If you're not comfortable with this, please ignore!
P.S. All characters are 18 and up.
The sun kissed the garden patio where the group of ladies sat — drinks sweating on the table, little cakes barely touched, and her lip gloss glinting every time she burst out laughing.
“Wait — so you're telling me Iruka had your nails done with you?”
She nearly choked on her peach bellini tea, giggling behind her fingers as her friend, now Iruka’s girlfriend, nodded with pride.
“Yes! He said if I was gonna spend an hour in a chair, he might as well sit next to me. He picked this color, too.”
She held up her hand, fingers fluttering. “He said it reminded him of coral reefs and peace.”
The curvy beauty blinked dramatically at her friend. “Girl. Be serious. That man wears a ponytail and teaches children — what does he know about nail color?”
“Apparently everything,” she said with a dreamy sigh.
Across from the curvy beauty was her other friend, Yamato’s girlfriend, sipping her jasmine tea quietly, her eyes calm, her lips curved just slightly.
“And you?” She asked her other taken friend, leaning in. “Don’t think I didn’t notice that little bruise on your neck last week. Tree boy got hands?”
She didn’t flinch. Just looked down into her cup.
“Yamato’s... thoughtful,” she said gently.
That was all she said.
But the smile didn’t fade.
She gawked at her friend. “Okay, ew. You’re both in full-on simp mode.”
“It’s not simping,” Iruka’s girlfriend said, popping a bit of mochi into her mouth. “It’s what happens when you realize nice guys aren’t boring — they’re just lowkey freaks with feelings.”
She rolled her eyes playfully. “You say that now, but I’ve seen Iruka get overwhelmed by too many side dishes at lunch.”
“And yet he still folded me like laundry last night,” she said, not even blinking.
Yamato’s girlfriend choked on her tea.
And the curvy beauty howled.
Across the table, Kaito sat stiff, arms crossed, saying nothing. And the curvy beauty was too busy laughing to notice.
“Okay, but seriously,” She said, giggling. “You two are, like... in love with kind men. Who makes soup and wears sensible shoes. This is scary behavior.”
“Oh, please,” Iruka’s girlfriend scoffed. “You spend more time with Might Guy than any of us do with our boyfriends.”
Yamato’s girl quietly added:
“You call him your ‘daily motivation.’”
She grinned. She couldn't deny that. “Because he is motivational! He got me to do four squats in heels. That’s basically a religious experience.”
Kaito’s fork hit his plate with a sharp clink.
“Do you even hear yourself?” he muttered.
Cluelessly, she turned to her boyfriend, surprised. “Huh?”
He didn’t look at the curvy beauty. Just shook his head. “Never mind.”
She blinked. Her friends didn’t say a word.
The moment passed, awkward and tight.
But she just smiled, sipped her tea again, and asked:
“Anyway, what else did the emotionally stable boyfriends do this week?”
Later that night, the takeout sat between them both, half-eaten and cooling quickly. She was talking with her hands, animated, recounting something dumb that happened on her last mission — something about Guy accidentally doing pushups into a bush and her laughing so hard she snorted through her nose.
She was still mid-laugh when she noticed Kaito hadn’t smiled once.
He was just… staring at her.
“Kaito?” she asked, smile fading. “You good?”
“Yeah.” His voice was clipped. “Totally great hearing you talk about him for the last hour.”
She blinked. “Guy?”
“Do you talk about anyone else?”
Her lips parted. “What? We’re just friends—”
“Are you?” His tone was sharper now. “Because I swear, every other sentence out of your mouth is Guy this, Guy that, Guy made me protein pancakes with a smiley face this morning.”
She rolled her eyes, still not catching the storm building. “Oh my.... You’re seriously jealous of Might Guy?”
“You don’t see it?” he said, louder now. “The way you light up when you talk about him. How you drop everything to hang out with him? The way you act like he’s your boyfriend instead of me?”
“That’s not fair!” She snapped, confused and stung. “Guy’s just always been around. He’s one of my closest friends—he makes me laugh! He gets me. That doesn’t mean I’m into him!”
Kaito leaned forward, voice trembling.
“But you trust him with everything. You talk about your day with him. You let him into your apartment at midnight because he ‘brought you a post-workout bento.’ You hold his hand when you're sad, for godsakes. And when you’re happy. And when you’re bored!”
She shook her head. “It’s not like that. We’re just—”
“You let him carry you on his back after missions.”
“He’s Guy. That’s just how we are.”
He looked at her like she’d said something ridiculous. Like she was lying and didn’t even know it.
“You don’t even realize it,” he muttered.
She crossed her arms, defensive. “I’m telling you, we’re friends. He’s like—like a puppy! With muscles. And eyebrows.”
Kaito didn’t laugh.
His voice came out quiet this time. Bitter.
“So when I touch you, it’s too much. But when he calls you beautiful and lifts you onto his lap like it’s nothing, that’s just ‘friendly’?”
“…what are you talking about?”
He shook his head. “I’m not gonna beg for space in my own relationship.”
“I’m not with him!” She cried.
“But you’re not really with me either,” he said softly.
The silence that followed was dense. Humid with disbelief.
She froze. Jaw clenched. Eyes stinging without permission.
Then, quietly, Kaito stood. Picked up his jacket. Didn’t look back.
“I hope someday you realize the difference between friendship and the person you run to when your heart hurts.”
The door closed behind him.
And for the first time… she didn’t know who to call.
Except…
One name already lingered on her lips.
But that just made her squeeze her eyes shut harder.
Because Might Guy was just her best friend.
…Right?
Might Guy opened the door to a blur of tears and shaky breath.
“Hey,” His voice was gentle but alarmed — all brightness dimmed in a flash when he saw his sweet girl trembling on his doorstep. “Oh no…”
She didn’t even get a word out before she flung her arms around him, burying her face in his broad chest. His warmth swallowed her whole. The familiar scent of eucalyptus and aftershave made her tears come faster, not once slowing down.
“He broke up with me,” she choked.
Again.
Guy didn’t say anything at first — just held her tight. His arms wrapped around her without hesitation, big palms soothing over her back as if he already understood. She clung to him like a child to a kite string in a storm, fists scrunching the fabric of his shirt as she sobbed.
His chin tucked softly over her head.
“I’m so sorry, my youthful flower…” he said softly. “He wasn’t worthy of your brilliance anyway.”
She sniffled, heart squeezed tight. “He said… he said I treat you like my boyfriend.”
Guy paused.
But only for a beat.
“…And how’s that a bad thing?” he said, trying for lightness.
She gave a broken laugh — equal parts watery and confused. “He said I always run to you. That every time something good happens, I call you. Every time something bad happens, I come to you. I fell asleep texting you. I let you cook for me and train me and rub my feet and—” She stopped herself, suddenly blinking. “...Oh.”
Guy tilted his head. “Oh?”
She blinked again. Slower. “...Oh my god.”
“Yes?”
“He’s right,” She said, horrified. “Oh my god, he’s right! I do all that. I—I literally came here crying over him again. I literally—I called you before anyone else. I always call you. I always come here. I—I don’t even think about it anymore.”
Her lip quivered. “I didn’t even try to go to anyone else. I came right to you.”
Guy reached for her face, brushing away a tear with his thumb.
“Hey, hey. Listen to me.”
“I’m such a hypocrite,” she whispered, more to herself than him. “I keep swearing we’re just friends, but… I’m proving his point every time.”
“No,” Guy said firmly, still so gentle. “You’re just the kind of person who gives her heart to people who feel safe. That’s not a flaw. It’s… radiant.”
She blinked up at him, still crying, overwhelmed and confused.
“I’m sorry I keep doing this to you,” she murmured, leaning into his touch.
“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” he said quickly, smiling softly and steadily. “I’m happy to be here for you. Every time. Always.”
She hiccupped. Sniffled. Wiped her face with her sleeve.
“…You think if I were hotter, they’d stop breaking up with me?”
Guy blinked. “Huh?”
She nodded quickly, lips pouty and earnest. “It has to be that. I’m cute! But not like… hot-hot. If I had a revenge body, maybe they’d take me seriously.”
His brows furrowed. “I don't think—”
“I need to lose, like, fifteen pounds. Not a big deal! I’ll be tight and toned in no time.”
“You’re beautiful as you are,” he said sincerely, resting a hand over his heart. “Anyone who makes you doubt that is lacking in vision.”
She sniffled again. “Aw… you’re sweet.”
He gave her a lopsided smile. “I’m honest.”
She let out a weak laugh. “That’s why you’re my best friend. The best-est, ever. You’re basically a motivational poster with great calves.”
“…Thank you?” he chuckled, scratching the back of his neck.
She snapped her fingers. “Wait! That’s it! You’re strong. You’ve got stamina. You literally do 10,000 push-ups before breakfast.”
“I—Well… Not every day—”
“Guy. You’re gonna be my personal trainer.”
He looked alarmed. “Wh—Me??”
“You’re perfect!” she beamed through her tears. “You’re the one person I can trust to help me reach my hottest self. And the only one who won’t judge me when I inevitably collapse and cry for cookies.”
“…Cookies?”
“Guy,” she said gravely. “We need a reward system.”
He laughed — loud and full-bodied, but still flushed with worry. “I-I suppose I could make a training plan…”
“Yes! My best friend! My fitness sensei!”
She threw her arms around him again. And again, he held her — a little slower this time.
But with the same warmth.
The same care.
The same silent hope…
Maybe someday, she’d run to him — because of him.
Not because someone else let her down.
*A Few Weeks Later*
“I haven’t lost anything. Not a single pound.”
She glared down at the scale like it had personally insulted her, stepping off dramatically and jabbing at it with her toe.
Might Guy blinked. “But your form’s improved! You’ve been so consistent—!”
“You’ve been feeding me like a spoiled princess,” she huffed, arms crossed. “Every time I finish a workout, it’s ‘great job, now here’s a bento box’ or ‘let’s get dumplings as a reward.’”
His brows furrowed in confusion. “A reward system encourages morale and recovery!”
She pouted deeper. “It encourages me to get chunkier!”
Guy gasped, scandalized. “Never! You are radiant, powerful, and—!”
“Chubby!”
He paused. “Chubby… with charm!”
She groaned and flopped onto the floor, arms sprawled like a pancake. “Ugh. Maybe my metabolism’s just trash.”
As he knelt beside the curvy beauty—ready to launch into another rousing speech—she caught sight of a corner of her fitness magazine pile peeking out from under the couch.
With a groan, she dragged one out.
“Don’t mind these,” she muttered, flipping through the creased pages. “Just desperate girl stuff. I've tried almost everything here—except…”
Her voice trailed off.
Guy tilted his head.
“…Except?” he echoed.
She turned the magazine around and pointed to a highlighted section:
Burn 200+ Calories With Just One Round! (Yes, That Kind of Cardio 😉)
His entire body stilled.
Then: “W-What?!”
“Don’t look at me like that!” she squeaked. “I only highlighted it because it had numbers. Math is motivating!”
“I—! You—!” He gently took the magazine from her hands, squinting at the bold font and questionable diagrams. “This isn’t even citing a source!”
She burst into nervous laughter. “I mean, technically it’s exercise…”
Guy cleared his throat, clearly rattled. “Y-you would need a partner for that kind of workout.”
“Well,” she said slowly, eyes drifting toward him. “My best friend is a top-level taijutsu expert and already guides all my physical training…”
His jaw dropped. “Y-You mean—?!”
“No!” she yelped, face heating up. “I was joking!”
“Ah—ha, yes, joking!” he laughed, way too loud. “Haha! That would be… ridiculous!”
“…Hilarious,” she muttered, suddenly very interested in the carpet.
And yet, she returned the next day.
Sweaty, sore, and annoyed. Again.
Her weight hadn’t budged. Again.
And this time, Guy looked like he had something to say.
When he handed her the clipboard, she took it warily.
It wasn’t a grocery list.
It was a schedule.
Monday – Flexibility Training
Tuesday – Core + Glutes
Wednesday – Controlled Intimacy Reps (Test Phase)
Thursday – Rest
Friday – Mutual Stamina Conditioning
...And so on.
Her eyes bulged.
Her voice cracked.
“You’re not seriously suggesting we do this.”
Guy was already halfway through nervously patting his own face dry with a hand towel. “I mean—! Not unless you—! I just thought—!”
They both stared at each other.
Dead silence.
“…This is the weirdest fitness plan I’ve ever followed.”
He nodded rapidly. “It’s just theoretical! Hypothetical! Anatomical!”
She snorted. “You made a sexercise schedule.”
“It’s—science!”
“…You spelled ‘aftercare’ wrong.”
He blinked, flustered.
She flopped the clipboard against her chest, hiding her face behind it with a muffled, nervous groan. “I can't believe it. What are we doing?”
Guy rubbed the back of his neck, ears burning.
“…Something very, very responsible?”
She peeked over the top of the clipboard, face burning.
“…Guess we better stretch first.”
He nodded, face just as flustered.
“Yeah. Safety first.”
The bedroom was tidy, almost too tidy — like he’d cleaned it twice but couldn’t quite get rid of the panic.
She knelt on the edge of the bed, magazine splayed between her and Guy like some kind of forbidden scroll. Her cheeks were burning. His were worse.
“I-I think this one has the most core engagement,” she mumbled, tapping an article that definitely did not look G-rated.
Guy peered over her shoulder, trying very hard not to breathe too close. “It requires... intense coordination.”
She swallowed hard, scanning the page. “And this one’s more of a flexibility thing, I guess... good for toning.”
“Ah, yes. Hip mobility. Very important.” He nodded seriously, like this was a sparring match strategy session.
The silence stretched.
Then, shyly, she added, “…We’re really doing this, huh?”
His fingers rubbed at the edge of the magazine. “Just for the data. Your goals. Helping a friend.”
She tilted her head. “Right. Like a science fair project.”
He gave a very nervous thumbs-up.
They both stared at the page again.
Then—
“…Should we talk about, um… supplies?”
He blinked. “Supplies?”
“Y’know… protection. Safe sex stuff.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, like it was a secret code. “Even if it’s for science, we’re not trying to get other results.”
Guy made a strangled noise in his throat. “I—I—I assumed you’d bring—! I mean—! I do have—!”
He jumped up and practically sprinted to his dresser, pulling open a drawer like it was on fire. After rummaging frantically, he came back with a small unopened box.
He held it out like it might bite him.
“Are these... adequate?”
She blinked. “You have condoms?”
“I’m a grown man!” he said quickly—too quickly. “With... proper health supplies!”
She stared at him, then broke into a helpless giggle. “You’re so prepared.”
He scratched the back of his head, smiling sheepishly. “You deserve safe, supported training.”
The words made her heart stutter.
She scooted a little closer, knees nearly brushing. “And you deserve... trust. So… thank you.”
Guy’s gaze softened. “You can always trust me.”
Another beat of silence.
Then, very softly, she asked:
“Should we start?”
He hesitated, then nodded. “Let’s... warm up first.”
They both stared at each other, blushing and anxious, and sitting in front of a sexercise magazine like it was a nuclear launch plan.
This was happening.
Sort of.
Maybe.
(For science.)
When the moment came, it was quiet.
Still.
Warm with tension — the kind that made her pulse race and her thoughts scatter. She stood beside the bed, eyes flicking toward the magazine still splayed open on the nightstand. It was just a fitness plan. Just a training schedule.
Just… science.
But the way Might Guy looked at her now — brows furrowed in concern and admiration both — it didn’t feel like just anything.
She inhaled shakily. “S-So… do we, um… start?”
He gave a short, tight nod, smile earnest but obviously flustered.
“If you’re ready,” he said, voice lower than normal — not seductive, not practiced. Just kind. Nervous. Real.
They both stood frozen a beat too long.
Then slowly… hesitantly…
She reached for the hem of her workout top and peeled it off.
His eyes widened.
She stood in her bra and shorts — soft, thick, flushed all over. Her arms instinctively came up to cover her belly.
“I-I know I’m not like, you know…” she trailed off, voice weak, eyes downcast.
Guy blinked. Then blinked again.
And then — with a small, stunned shake of his head — he stepped forward and gently caught her wrists, lowering them.
“Beautiful,” he said with complete sincerity. “You are… radiant. Full of strength. And softness.”
Her heart thudded wildly.
He smiled, rubbing the back of his neck, cheeks pink. “A-and… if we’re gonna start our, uh… scientific session… I should make sure your muscles are fully prepared. Right?”
She blinked up at him.
“…You’re gonna massage me?”
He cleared his throat. “W-warm-up! Very normal in any workout.”
She giggled shyly, then nodded and turned to sit on the bed, her back facing him.
A long pause.
Then his strong, calloused hands pressed gently into his curvy best friend's shoulders.
She exhaled on contact.
“Mmm—ohhh…”
His touch was heavenly — thumbs kneading along the slope of her neck, fingers working down between her shoulder blades. Slow, deliberate strokes. He lingered over every soft inch, jaw clenched with concentration.
“You’re so tense,” he murmured.
“You’re the one touching me, Guy,” she whined playfully, squirming as he hit a spot near her spine.
He chuckled low, then continued — hands gliding over her back, tracing down to her lower waist. She gasped when his fingers gently slipped beneath the waistband of her shorts.
“I-Is this okay?” he asked, voice hoarse.
She nodded breathlessly. “Uh-huh…”
He eased them down, slowly exposing her backside — plush and dimpled and glowing. His breath caught, but he didn’t say a word. Instead, his palms smoothed over the backs of her thighs, kneading tenderly, then down her legs, and back up again.
She whimpered softly, her body melting under his reverent touch.
He lingered at her hips, thumbs brushing over the soft curve of her sides, fingers grazing the subtle jiggle there. Then, without a word, he gently guided her to lie back on the bed — full cheeks, thick thighs, bare belly all exposed beneath him.
She watched with flushed cheeks as he finally pulled his shirt off, revealing his golden, toned torso. And then his pants dropped — leaving only boxers between him and full vulnerability.
That was when she saw it.
His briefs were being strained by a very clear, very hard outline.
Her mouth went dry.
Guy scrambled to cover it. “S-sorry! I-It’s reflexive! Muscle memory!”
She just squeaked and covered her face.
“It’s okay!” she said, voice high-pitched. “You—You’re… you’re just excited for the workout! Right?”
He nodded furiously. “Y-yes! Right! Extremely excited! Hah! Heh… ha…”
Still flushed, she slowly crawled into his lap.
She hovered above him, still soft and sweet from his hands — flushed from the massage, skin tingling, brain foggy with nervous delight.
And Might Guy lay beneath her, boxers gone, legs braced, condom in place… his length thick, pulsing, and absolutely not what she'd expected from her sunshine of a best friend.
“Oh…”
Her eyes widened at the sight of him — long, veiny, heavy between his muscular thighs.
“Th-That’s… huge…”
Guy flushed bright red and pressed a hand to his forehead in that classic bashful pose.
“W-We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for!” he blurted. “This is just… j-just scientific exploration! High-level research!”
But her legs were already settling around him.
She wanted this. All of it.
He noticed the tremble in her fingers as she reached down, and gently, he reached back — lacing his fingers with hers.
“Here,” he murmured. “Hold my hands. For support.”
Her heart fluttered at the gesture — so sweet and secure. She nodded, squeezing back.
“Okay… I’m gonna—just…”
She sank down onto him.
A long, shuddering gasp slipped from her lips.
“Ah—! O-Oh my god—Guy—”
His hips twitched at his sweet curvy friend's sweet voice, a deep moan torn from his throat as her heat squeezed around his girth.
“You’re doing so well,” he breathed. “S-So tight… You’re amazing…”
She whimpered, breath catching, her legs shaking as she lowered fully onto him.
His hands gripped hers tighter, grounding her as she filled herself inch by inch — his cock stretching her wide, making her feel every thick ridge and pulse.
When he bottomed out, she whimpered again — leaning forward, chest pressed to his as she panted against his shoulder.
“I-I can feel you… Here—” she breathed, guiding his hand to her pudgy lower belly. “You’re so deep…”
His eyes darkened as he felt it — the pressure beneath her skin, his cock buried to the base.
“That’s… all me…?” he whispered.
“Uh-huh…”
The air was thick with tension. With want. With awe.
Then — she moved.
She began to bounce, hips rolling gently at first, her hands still locked with his.
Slap. Slap. Slap.
Each soft smack of her thighs against his sent heat spiraling through her. She picked up speed, finding a rhythm.
“You’re doing incredible,” Guy groaned, voice low now, “Keep going—just like that!”
The more she rode him, the more confident she became — moaning louder, bouncing harder, the mattress creaking beneath them. Her hands tightened around his.
Her belly jiggled. Her breasts bounced.
And Guy watched her — eyes wide, jaw slack, like she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
“Y-You’re so… so sexy like this,” he breathed. “P-Perfect reps… perfect technique…”
She let out a whimpery giggle — still that ditzy, sugar-sweet tone — but her motions slowed.
It felt too good.
She gave in to the ache and started grinding instead, hips rolling in wide, sensual circles.
The friction was perfect that way — her slick folds dragging over his thick length, her belly pressing to his.
His breath caught. “Wh-Why’d you stop bouncing…?”
She bit her lip, eyes fluttering. “F-Feels so good like this… can’t help it…”
His hips bucked beneath her instinctively.
But then she whimpered — voice softer now, trembling.
“I’m… I’m tired…”
He blinked up at her, dazed and concerned. “Y-You wanna stop?”
“I don’t wanna stop,” she pouted. “I just… I can’t bounce anymore…”
She was still holding his hands — knuckles white with effort — but her body had slowed, grinding down with breathless, lazy pleasure.
And that’s when his grip changed.
Still gentle, still reverent — but now firm.
He released one hand and brought it to her belly. Gripped her pudgy stomach and hip with a strength that made her gasp.
“Then I’ll help,” he growled, voice husky and low. “We finish what we started.”
She whined his name as he guided her hips back into motion — bouncing her on his lap with controlled, strong thrusts from below.
Slap. Slap. Slap.
Her nails dug into his other hand as she cried out, head thrown back, thighs trembling.
“I-It’s so big—! I-I can’t—!”
“Yes, you can,” he whispered, holding her steady. “You are.”
Her skin was soaked with sweat. His chest was heaving. Her hips were moving again — fast and sloppy, as moans and whimpers filled the room.
Her mind went soft. Dizzy.
All she could feel was him. Inside her. Beneath her. Helping her. Encouraging her. Guiding her.
She bounced. Ground. Sobbed his name.
And then, like fire licking her spine—
She shattered.
Her body clenched around him. Her voice cracked into a high wail. She clung to his shoulders and came hard.
He caught her, groaned, and thrusted once more — deep, hard, all the way in.
His hand stayed on her belly. His breath punched out in a moan.
He came too — hot, thick, still wrapped safely in the condom as he throbbed inside his curvy bestie.
Silence.
Then her arms went limp. She collapsed on top of him, cheek pressed to his sweaty chest, legs shaking.
He held her.
Neither of them said a word.
Just the soft rise and fall of breath. The afterglow. The soft squeeze of her hand in his.
Eventually, she whispered:
“…Think I burned a few calories?”
He chuckled — hoarse, dazed.
“Think we broke personal records.”
It wasn’t supposed to become a routine.
At first, they were both laughing about it. Some ridiculous fitness magazines promise calorie burn through sex positions.
“Just for science,” she joked.
“Once a week, tops,” he swore.
But now?
Now it is happening almost every day.
What started as a cheeky “fitness experiment” had turned into something neither of them could really control. Something they pretended was still just training.
The laminated “workout” chart pinned to his fridge didn’t help:
Mon – Cowgirl Core Day
Tue – Reverse Endurance
Wed – Stretch + Massage
Thu – Doggy Flexibility
Fri – Mirror Conditioning
Sat – Lap Cardio
Sun – Rest… unless requested otherwise
And tonight? Tonight was supposed to be a rest day.
She was tired. A little pouty. A little sweaty. She collapsed onto the bed after squats and flopped into his lap with a whine about her thighs still aching.
“Want me to take care of it?” he’d offered, all warm hands and soft smiles.
She didn’t even mean to end up in his lap like this. But somehow, now she was sitting on his cock, her back pressed against his chest, her legs parted wide over his knees, her hands gripping his thick forearms like they were the only thing holding her together.
Because they were.
Might Guy was doing all the work.
His arms wrapped around her middle, one hand gripping her soft thigh and the other pressing into her plush belly — firm and reverent and grounding.
“You’re doing great,” he murmured warmly into her ear, between heavy, open-mouthed kisses along her neck. “Just let me take care of you. It’s a rest day, remember?”
She wasn’t doing anything but melting. Her feet didn’t even touch the floor. Her hips were bouncing only because he moved them. He was holding her — using her — up and down, up and down, onto his cock so deep it made her dizzy.
Her toes curled as her lips parted, breathy and high and gasping.
“G-Guy, I’m not even helping—”
“You are helping,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re beautiful. You’re letting me rest you. Take care of my friend.”
His hand dragged up over her belly, palm spreading across her soft tummy, and she twitched — thighs clenching, face going hot.
“D-Don’t touch that—!”
“Why not?” he said, a little teasing now, kissing her jaw. “You’ve got the cutest tummy…”
Her thighs trembled. She covered her face with one hand, letting out a desperate little giggle-groan.
“You’re so embarrassing—!”
“And you’re soft,” he added, thrusting up hard enough to lift her halfway off his lap before catching her on the way down. “Sweet. Strong. My perfect girl.”
Her nails curled into his arms. Her thighs jerked. And then, just as her head fell back in overwhelmed bliss—
She looked up.
The mirror.
He’d put it there for form checks, for posture, for alignment. That's what he said, at least. But she knew better now.
She's been watching them for weeks.
Sometimes it was fleeting—just a glance, a flicker, a flushed face turning away. But more often, it was deliberate. Addictive.
The way his body dwarfed hers. The way he cradled her, used her, held her. The way she looked, bouncing on him, held by him. Like a woman being worshiped.
Like a woman who belonged to him.
It always made her thighs clench tighter. Always made her moans rise quicker. She even—
She remembered the first time it happened. The first time she'd squirted. Soaked him. Shocked him.
“W-Was that me?” she gasped, trembling.
He was red-faced, eyes wide, grinning. “That was awesome.”
And after that? It just… kept happening. Not every time, but enough that her body now responded to him like muscle memory. Like it knew exactly what to do the second he bottomed out. Like her cunt had memorized the shape of him. The stretch. The rhythm.
And now—
Now she was seeing it all again.
Her bare, bouncing body. His thick arms wrapped around her. Her glistening thighs parted wide as he buried himself deep, again and again.
She looked ruined.
She looked worshiped.
They looked like…
“A couple,” she whispered without thinking.
His rhythm stuttered.
Her breath caught — but his hands only gripped her tighter.
She didn’t say anything else. She couldn’t. She was too full. Too fucked-out. Too caught in the way his hips kept rocking upward, slow and deep, his lips dragging along her neck as she moans bled into each other’s skin.
“Look…” she murmured again, and reached up to cup his jaw, turning his head to face the mirror too.
His breath hitched.
She watched the moment his gaze met her reflection — her eyes, her body, the way she was holding him, clinging to him like he was hers.
Like she was his.
Neither of them looked away.
Not when she reached back to fist his hair.
Not when his mouth returned to her neck, kissing her messily, reverently.
Not when she cried out and clutched him tighter as she clenched down again.
Not even as his thrusts began to stutter, his groan loud and broken into her skin — losing himself in her with a voice rough and wrecked.
They held each other through it, panting, hot and shaking, until his arms locked around her waist and her head dropped back onto his shoulder.
The mirror was still there.
So was the reflection.
So was she.
Still watching.
Still wanting.
And for a long, breathless moment… Neither of them said a word.
It started as a sweet idea.
Just a small gesture — a way to say thank you.
She’d seen the way Guy had been looking at her lately. Felt the way his hands lingered just a little longer during stretches. Heard the subtle changes in his voice when he praised her form, or held her up just a little too long after a piggyback squat session.
He always smiled.
Always encouraged.
Always made her chest ache in that warm, dizzying, more-than-best-friends kind of way.
She was tired of pretending it didn’t mean something.
So she got up early, brushed her hair a little nicer than usual, and took herself to the market. She wanted to cook for him — something protein-heavy but sweet. A reward for everything he’d done for her. And maybe, maybe… if the moment felt right…
She’d finally tell him.
That he was more than her cheerleader, her training partner, her emotional support wall of muscle.
He was the one she’d been waiting for without even knowing it.
And now, after all those weeks of brushing off her friends’ teasing, pretending the mirror hadn’t made her heart stop — pretending he wasn’t becoming hers— the curvy beauty finally understood what they’d meant.
The way she looked at him…
The way he made her feel safe and beautiful and held.
She didn’t want another thank-you session.
She wanted to be his.
So when the sweet curvy beauty turned the corner, basket swinging in hand, and caught sight of his unmistakable silhouette at the fruit stand — tall, radiant, that green jumpsuit unmistakable in any crowd — her heart skipped a beat.
And she smiled.
This was it.
She was going to surprise him — wrap her arms around him, offer to cook, maybe drop a few flirtier lines than usual just to test the waters. She’d giggle. He’d blush. And if it went really well…
Maybe she’ll finally tell him what he meant to her.
But then—
She slowed down, smile fading.
Because standing beside him — too close, way too close — was this woman.
Tall. Pretty. Laughing too loudly. And touching him.
Right there — her hand brushing his forearm like she had a right to. Like she knew him.
Like his sweet besite didn’t.
Her steps stopped entirely.
He was smiling.
That smile. Her smile.
The one he gave when he was bashful, caught off guard, flattered.
Her stomach twisted.
What were they even talking about? Was she flirting? Was he letting her?
Her vision blurred for a second, but she forced herself forward — one step, then another — the basket handle nearly slipping from her hand before her grip tightened.
Her chest was thudding, eyes trained on her delicate, flirty fingers and his unbothered stance. Her Guy. her best friend. Standing there laughing with another woman, like she wasn’t just about to confess her stupid little feelings over chicken skewers and protein dumplings.
She hated it.
She hated her.
She hated how they looked together — like something she couldn’t unsee. Like something she wasn’t a part of.
And she hated how she was going to ruin it.
How stupid it all suddenly felt.
She should’ve known. Should’ve seen this coming. Guys like him didn’t wait forever. Not even for loving bimbos like herself, who took too long to get it.
But before the sadness could sink in too deeply, another feeling surged up to smother it.
Possession.
Not rage.
Not jealousy.
Just a fiery, reckless claim that screamed inside this girl's chest.
Mine.
And before she even realized what she was doing—
She charged.
“Oh my god, babe!”
She launched herself at him.
Her arms flew around his neck like a lifeline, the basket thudding to the ground behind her as her plump body collided with his — clinging to him as if anchoring herself to something solid in a world that had just tilted off its axis.
Guy’s strong arms caught her automatically, but his body stiffened in surprise.
“H-Hello!” he blurted, voice far too loud and smile painfully polite.
She lowered her head just enough to look the other woman in the eye. The other woman, who was still clutching her bag of peaches, was plainly flirting and now blinking like she had just been splashed with cold water.
She paused, shifted uncomfortably, and gave the most awkward nod before turning on her heel and making herself scarce, as if sensing she had just wandered into someone else’s territory.
She should feel victorious.
But instead… Guy’s arms were already lowering from around her.
Not harshly — never harsh — but firm. Gentle.
And when he stepped back to look at his sweet friend, the expression on his face wasn’t bashful or flustered or sweetly surprised.
It was… serious.
And disappointed.
“…What was that?” he asked, voice quiet, tight.
Her stomach dropped.
“What?” she tried, laughing a little. “I—I was just teasing. That lady was all over you—”
“She wasn’t,” he said flatly. “She asked for help picking peaches. That’s it.”
She frowned, arms crossing. “You didn’t have to smile like that.”
“I smile at everyone,” he said, tone edged. “That’s me. That’s always been me.”
“Yeah, well…” she huffed, shaky. “I didn’t like how she was looking at you.”
“And I didn’t like how you grabbed me like that out of nowhere!”
She flinched.
It was the sharpness in his tone, the flash of frustration in his face. She’s never heard him speak to her like that. She wasn’t prepared for it.
“I didn’t mean anything by it,” she whispered.
“I didn’t expect that from you,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “I thought you trusted me.”
“I do! I do, Guy—!” she burst out. “But I don’t want anyone looking at you like that. I don’t want you smiling at anyone else like that either.”
He stared at her.
“I don’t want to be your best friend anymore,” she said in a rush. “I want to be the woman you look at like that. I wanted today to be different. I wanted to surprise you, maybe even tell you…”
She stopped herself. Voice cracked. Eyes getting glassy.
“I was going to say thank you,” she whispered. “For everything. For all the help, the time, the attention. For you. I thought I finally got it — what my friends were teasing me about. I wanted to admit it. I wanted to tell you I want more.”
He blinked, throat bobbing.
“I was just scared,” she went on. “Scared that you’d never see me like that. Or worse… that someone would come along who’d take advantage of you. Of your kindness. And your heart. And I’d be stuck watching it happen.”
There it was.
The silence that followed cut deep — so deep it burned.
And then, she moved again. As if gravity pulled her toward him, and there was no resisting it.
She wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face in his chest, the tears coming fast now — hot and heavy and full of regret. His shirt dampened under her cheek as her shoulders trembled, small hiccups catching in her throat.
“I’m sorry,” she whimpered. “I didn’t mean to make a scene…”
Even with everything — even after the argument — Guy’s arms came around her again. One hand rose to gently cradle her head, thumb brushing through her hair, the other resting protectively at her back.
And then, soft and broken into his chest:
“…I love you.”
She said it once. Just once. Like it had escaped her heart before her brain could stop it.
Guy didn’t move.
Not at first.
And then slowly, he bent down, pressing his lips to the crown of her head — one hand still stroking through her hair.
“I didn’t mean what I said either,” he murmured. “I was scared, too.”
She looked up, glassy-eyed. “You were?”
“I’ve never seen you like that. All fired up. Jealous. Possessive.” His gaze softened. “I liked it. Too much. It messed with my head.”
She let out a broken laugh. “I was afraid you’d hate me.”
“I could never hate you.”
“I was afraid someone would take you from me.”
“They won’t.”
Her arms tightened. Her fingers curled into the back of his shirt. His hand at her soft waist pulled her closer. And even with the entire aisle’s attention still half-fixed on them, he held his sweet girl like no one else existed.
Until a familiar voice cut through the silence like a butter knife.
“Well. That’s new.”
They both turned.
Kakashi. Standing with a loaf of bread under one arm and a smirk under his mask.
“I didn’t have ‘Guy gets tackled by his secret girlfriend in the produce aisle’ on my bingo card,” he added. “Thought you two were just… friends.”
Guy’s brain short-circuited. Visibly.
“I—this isn’t—Ka-Kakashi—!!” he sputtered, hand flying out in protest, still holding her sweetly against him with the other.
Kakashi just blinked. “Didn’t peg you for the scandal type. Good for you.”
And walked off.
Guy looked like he might combust.
But his hand stayed right where it was — at her back, holding his sweet beauty close still in her hair, soothing her with each pass of his fingers.
She hadn’t lifted her head since Kakashi appeared. She didn’t want to.
So instead, she just stayed right where she was, whispering faintly one last time into his chest:
“…I love you.”
Guy swallowed hard.
Then, finally spoke.
“Let’s go,” he said, voice quieter now — but firm. Protective. Final.
“You’re not crying in public anymore.”
She looked up at him, eyes red and wet, lips parted. There was something… different in the way he said it. In the way he looked at her now. Not just like a best friend. Not like a training partner.
Like something more.
Like everything.
And without another word, he reached down, dropped the basket of groceries beside him, and laced his fingers with hers.
He led her out of that store like a man with a mission.
And she followed him like she always had.
Only this time…
Her heart was finally on her sleeve.
And his hand was holding it.
The moment they stepped into his apartment, the weight of everything finally settled.
She didn’t even make it past the entryway.
Guy closed the door behind them both, the quiet click echoing in the stillness. She turned to her bestie, eyes wide and lips trembling, trying to gather the courage to speak—to explain what had happened at the market, to say all the things that had been bubbling inside her since the moment her heart realized it didn’t want to be just friends.
But she didn’t get the chance.
His hands framed her face, calloused fingers cradling her warm cheeks with unexpected gentleness.
And then he kissed her.
Really kissed his sweet, curvy beauty.
It was deep, heated, hungry. Like he had waited too long and couldn’t hold back anymore. She gasped into it, her body softening against his chest, overwhelmed by the sudden surge of emotion and touch. His mouth moved over hers with the same fire he brought to training—fierce and focused—but with something more. Something tender.
She had to break the kiss just to breathe.
Her eyes fluttered open, her lush lips wet and swollen.
“I—” she started.
“Do you love me?” he asked, voice hoarse. Yearning.
Her breath caught. But she nodded.
“I do,” she whispered. “So much I couldn’t breathe when you looked at her the way I wanted you to look at me.”
“I’ve only ever looked at you,” he said, like it was the simplest truth. “Even when I didn’t know why.”
She kissed him again, this time slower—but with more intent. Tempting. Her fingers slid up his arms, brushing over the thick muscle beneath his uniform, shoulders that carried the weight of others with pride. His breath hitched.
She barely broke from his lips. “Then show me.”
He swept her sweetly into his arms in one swift movement—a bridal carry full of purpose, not just heat. She clung to him with all her heart, her kimono slipping slightly at the shoulders, but that didn't stop her hands fisting the back of his jumpsuit, lips brushing the underside of his jaw, nerves and heat building with every step toward the bedroom.
By the time he laid her on the bed, the air was thick with longing. The room glowed with soft evening light. The air between them was thick, buzzing.
His shadow hovered over her, tender and strong.
She looked up at him with tear-wet lashes. “I don’t want to be just your friend anymore. I want to be yours. All yours.”
“You already are,” he said, leaning down to kiss the words onto her lips.
She slipped the kimono from her shoulders, the silk falling away as his hands reverently traced the curves he’d memorized in movement and now worshiped in stillness. He pulled the zipper from his vest, then tugged off the green jumpsuit beneath—all in one practiced move. He stood there in nothing but awe, eyes raking over her body with a reverence that made her breath hitch.
He reached for protection from the drawer beside the bed, but her hand stopped him
“Don’t,” she said, voice barely audible. “I want you.”
His gaze searched hers. “Are you sure?”
“I need to feel you,” she whispered, eyes glistening. “I want it to be real.”
He paused, then leaned in, pressing a reverent kiss to her forehead before murmuring, “Then I’ll give you everything.”
And he did.
The moment he pushed inside, slow and steady, her mouth fell open in a silent moan. The stretch of him, the heat, the deep press of his hips—everything was perfect.
She was soft, plush, and so wet for him—her thick thighs trembling, her hips arching up in offering, desperate to feel him all. He groaned, eyes fluttering at how tightly she squeezed around him, at how her warmth pulled him deeper.
“Goodness… You’re amazing,” he murmured, lips brushing her ear. “So tight, so soft. You feel like… like victory.”
Her back arched, her hand over her mouth to quiet the sob of pleasure building inside her. “G-Guy—”
“I’ve got you,” he whispered, kissing down her jaw. “My beautiful girl… my strong girl. You take me so well.”
At first, the rhythm was slow and reverent, as if he was admiring her entire body. His body rolled against her, thick and firm, stretching her with each deep thrust. She whimpered, her arms sliding around his back, claws digging in his flesh, and then back up to his hair, raking her fingers through it.
Each stroke made her more delirious. Each whisper of praise only pulled her closer to the edge.
“You’re… you’re making me—”
“I know,” he breathed, forehead pressed to hers. “I can feel it. You’re clenching around me like you want me to lose it—ah—”
He suddenly pulled out, panting hard, sweat dampening his brow. “I-I have to stop, just for a second,” he said, voice trembling. “You’re too good. I’m losing focus—!”
But she whimpered, eyes wide and glassy, face twisted with need.
“No,” she cried, hands grabbing at his waist. “Please, I need you back inside—”
He stared down at her, chest heaving, lips parted. The way she looked—spread out for him, soft curves glistening with sweat, her thighs slick and shaking, tears pricking her lashes from the overwhelming pleasure—it undid him.
She was a mess. His sweet best friend. His now-lover. The woman who always smiled brightly, always teased him during workouts, always dressed modestly but made his thoughts immodest anyway. Now, she was squirming beneath him, completely undone.
He groaned as she guided him back in, her walls clenching again the moment he filled her. His hips jerked forward, driven by the way she welcomed him so desperately.
“Oh my—You’re… goodness, woman!” he gasped, voice breaking as he sank to the hilt. “You’re gonna ruin me!”
“Then let me,” she moaned.
She was already trembling, body jolting with every thrust, her breath hitched, her hands locked around his shoulders as her cries filled the room. She felt everything. The slick slide of his cock, the way he hit the deepest parts of her, the delicious friction of his skin against her thighs.
Her eyes rolled back, mouth open in silent rapture as she felt the wet burst of her climax drench his hips. She came hard, a gush of release splashing between them, and he moaned her name like a prayer.
“Sweetheart—!”
He thrust a few more times, rougher, less controlled—then stilled, buried deep. His whole body shuddered above her.
She clung to him, messy and wet and overwhelmed.
Her lips brushed his ear, voice barely coherent: “I love you. I love you so much. I’m all yours, always.”
Guy pulled back just enough to look at her, utterly love-drunk, heart in his eyes.
“You’ve always been mine,” he whispered, kissing her lips, her cheek, her temple. “And I swear on every training log and every sunrise… I’ll never let you go.”
She smiled tearfully, laughing through her exhaustion. “You’re such a dork.”
“And you,” he grinned, cradling her body close to his, “are the most radiant, powerful, curvaceous goddess I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
She giggled, burying her face in his neck.
“Might Guy’s eternal rival has just been defeated,” he murmured dramatically. “By the unbeatable force that is you.”
And as he held her, still buried deep, still whispering praises against her skin, she knew without a doubt:
This was the love she's always waited for.
And now it was hers. Forever.
Bonus Epilogue – The Tea After the Storm
It was a clear afternoon, the sun soft overhead as the curvy beauty sat nestled into her usual seat at the little tea spot the three of them had unofficially claimed years ago.
Across from her was Iruka’s girlfriend and Yamato’s girlfriend — two women who had known her long enough to smell drama from a mile away. And unfortunately for her, they were already locked in with their tea cups raised, eyes gleaming like predators about to feast.
She took one sip of her drink and knew she wasn’t getting out of this alive.
“So…” Yamato’s girlfriend began, stirring her tea with far too much grace for the chaos about to unfold. “Do you want to explain what the hell happened in the produce aisle of the market last week?”
“I heard there was crying,” Iruka’s girlfriend chimed in with a smirk. “Loud crying. Like, full-on emotional meltdown in front of the peaches.”
She stiffened, grip tightening on her cup. “It wasn’t that dramatic.”
“She was crying,” Yamato’s girlfriend said, turning to her. “In front of the peaches. Saying ‘I love you’ over and over. Might Guy just stood there, shell-shocked, holding a basket of whatever, like his whole life flashed before his eyes.”
“And apparently,” Iruka’s girlfriend added with a laugh, “there was a crowd. No one moved. Everyone just stared. Some people even made comments!”
“I didn’t see the crowd! I was… emotional!” She cried, squirming in her seat.
Irukia's girlfriend tilted her head. “Funny. This is coming from the same woman who gave us hell about being whipped for our men.”
“Right,” Yamato’s girlfriend snorted. “You used to roll your eyes every time we brought up Iruka’s little lunch notes or how Yamato picks flowers for no reason.”
She pouted. “That’s different.”
“It is,” Iruka’s girlfriend agreed. “Because you were worse.”
She gasped, not believing her friends. “I was not!”
“You disappeared for weeks,” Iruka’s girlfriend accused, pointing her chopsticks like a weapon. “We thought you got abducted.”
“Abducted by love,” Yamato’s girlfriend corrected. “Or maybe just that green jumpsuit.”
She hid her face in her hands with a whine. “I miss him.”
Both of them cackled.
Iruka’s girlfriend leaned forward. “Where is he, anyway? Is the man generous enough to return our friend to us?”
She peeked through her fingers with a dramatic sigh. “On a mission. Training his students. He left this morning.”
Yamato’s girlfriend arched her brow. “This morning? It’s only been a few hours.”
“Exactly!” The curvy beauty groaned. “And it already feels like eternity!”
Iruka’s girlfriend clutched her chest in mock pain. “Oh no! Not eternity! However, will you survive without your beloved bowl-cut beefcake for one afternoon?”
Yamato’s girlfriend grinned. “She’s not even sore about the market incident. She’s sore because he gave her a goodbye gift this morning.”
She slouched in her chair, fanning herself. “I hate how accurate that is.”
Iruka’s girlfriend smirked. “You’re lucky he’s always been soft on you.”
“He has,” she sighed dreamily. “Even back when we were just ‘workout buddies.’ Remember how I said he used to help me stretch before every session?”
“Oh god, I remember,” Yamato’s girlfriend said, rolling her eyes. “You’d come back looking freshly wrung out and say it was just warm-ups.”
“He’d massage my legs,” she admitted with a naughty smile, “rub out my calves, stretch my hips with those big calloused hands. And the whole time, he'd be so sweet—telling me to breathe, praising me for how flexible I was…”
Iruka’s girlfriend cackled. “You were already getting dicked down and still denying it.”
“I wasn’t denying it,” she muttered. “I was… processing.”
“You roasted us for getting soft over our boyfriends,” Yamato’s girlfriend teased. “Then went and fell harder than both of us combined.”
They both howled with laughter.
She narrowed her eyes at them, cheeks warm. “Fine. Laugh it up. But I bagged my best friend. A handstand-obsessed, bowl-cut-wearing, thumb-up-throwing, green spandex-wearing himbo who makes me breakfast after sex and calls me radiant while I’m drooling into his chest.”
Yamato’s girlfriend smirked. “So you’re saying…?”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, alright? I get it now.”
Irukia's girlfriend leaned forward with a grin. “Say it.”
She bit her lip, cheeks flushed, but she finally surrendered.
“…Nice guys do it better.”
Both girls raised their tea cups triumphantly.
“To the nice guys.”
“To the bowl cuts.”
“To the thick thighs that save lives.”
She laughed, breathless and glowing, still warm from his touch, still aching from his absence.
And despite all the teasing, one thing was clear:
You were absolutely, shamelessly, and fully loved.
Warning: Entrapment, Manipulation, Unprotected Sex (Wrap it up), Teasing, Dirty Talk...?, Jealous! Doma, Breeding Kink...?, Voyeur (People be nosy), Gore-ish, Possessiveness, Non-Con...?, Sadism, Dom! Doma, Bitemarks, and secretly claiming her with accessories (an anklet, earrings). Consuming humans, Blood, and emotional breakdown. Basically, NSFW. 🤷🏻♀️
Also, be mindful that I didn't really mention much of the reader's appearance (Besides, she's a female) since I wanted to keep it vague for everyone to relate as much as possible, though it is definitely for the most voluptuous side of ladies. 😊
Please be mindful that the photos are not mine, but the making of the collage is.
MINOR DNI!!!! 🔞🙅🏻♀️ If you're not comfortable with this, please ignore!
P.S. All characters are 18 and up.
The Eternal Paradise Faith wasn’t a place she had meant to find. One night of hunger, another of cold, and she wandered into the temple’s glow — incense sweet and heavy, lotus lanterns burning soft and gold.
They welcomed her with open arms, gentle hands leading her into warmth, voices whispering promises of peace. But none of it compared to him.
Douma.
He sat at the heart of it all, a man too perfect to seem real. His smile was dazzling, his hair like spun ice, his eyes catching the lamplight as though made of jewels. She had never seen someone so beautiful. She had never felt so seen.
The others bowed. She only stared, trembling, as he rose to greet her.
“Ohhh, what’s this?” His voice was soft, sing-song, and oddly childlike. He crouched until she was eye level, his breath carrying the faint chill of winter air. “A poor little stray. All alone? All lost?”
She swallowed, ashamed of the tears burning her eyes. “I—I only needed somewhere to stay. Just for the night.”
He tilted his head, grin widening until it nearly reached his ears. “Just for the night? No, no, no. You’ll stay longer than that. I’ll take care of you.” His fingers brushed her cheek, cold but careful. “From now on, you’ll be my little pet.”
Her chest tightened. “Pet?”
“Mhm.” He laughed, high and cheerful, like bells. “Isn’t that easier than worrying about life? No choices. No pain. Just obedience. You eat when I feed you. You smile when I tell you. You rest when I say so. Simple, isn’t it?”
It should have sounded insulting. But the warmth of the temple, the hunger gnawing in her stomach, the softness of his voice — it felt like being wrapped in chains padded with velvet.
She didn’t know how to answer, so she nodded.
His grin softened, though his eyes never warmed. “Good girl.”
Days later, after she had begun to adjust to the temple’s routines, Douma summoned her privately.
“I have something for you,” he said, holding out a jeweled earring shaped like a lotus petal. It shimmered faintly, unnaturally cold against her skin.
“Hold still.” He clipped it onto her ear himself, tilting her chin up so the jewel caught the lantern light.
“There. Perfect. Now everyone will know who you belong to.”
Later, as she tried to take it off. It wouldn’t budge. When she tugged harder, the metal burned your fingertips, sending a sharp sting into your hand. She gasped, panic fluttering in her chest.
Douma only laughed when she asked. “Silly pet. Why remove something so beautiful? You sparkle because of me.”
The whispers started almost immediately. The other cultists bowed lower to her, but their stares were sharp, their envy cutting.
Why her? She read in every glare. Why was she chosen?
She didn’t yet understand what the earring meant. She didn’t yet know what he was.
But she felt it: the weight of it on her ear, the invisible leash it tied between her and him.
And each time he reached out to tilt her chin, to stroke her hair, to whisper, “Good girl,” she sank deeper into his grasp.
It didn’t happen all at once.
The jealousy of the other women in the temple wasn’t just sharp words in the halls. It was daily. Subtle. At first.
A shoulder slammed into her as she carried trays of fruit. A whispered slut when she bowed before the altar. A hand “accidentally” tugged her hair as she worked.
Douma never noticed. Or if he did, he said nothing. His smile never wavered, his attention always playful, sweet, and suffocating. She kept silent. When bruises bloomed on her arms, she told him she had tripped. When her ribs ached, she said she had fallen carrying baskets. And he laughed, tapping her nose. “Clumsy little pet.”
Weeks passed. Every day, another shove. Another insult. Another mark she had to hide beneath her robes. And still, she stayed. Because what else could one do? She had nowhere else to go.
Until the night she broke.
The bullying hadn’t stopped. It stretched on for weeks, cutting the curvy beauty down in whispers and bruises. They pulled her hair in passing, shoved her into walls, and left her with ribs that ached when she breathed. Each time Douma tilted his head at her stiffness, she lied.
I tripped.
I fell.
I’m clumsy.
He laughed, tapping her nose, calling her “such a silly little pet.”
But the weight grew unbearable.
And one night, she cracked.
The temple was hushed, incense curling toward the rafters. She stood alone in the corridor, clutching her lotus earring until her fingers ached. Tears blurred her eyes.
“I can’t do this anymore,” she whispered. “I want a life. A husband. A home. Children. I want to be a woman, not a pet.”
The words tumbled out, raw, desperate.
“Ohhh?”
Her stomach dropped. Douma leaned lazily against the doorway, fans folded, his grin dazzling in the lantern glow.
“A husband? Children? Such precious little human dreams.” He drifted toward her, tilting her chin up with a single cool finger. “Why chase those when you already have me? I can give you everything. Pleasure, safety, love. I’ll be your husband, your family, your world.”
She shook her head, tears spilling faster. “You can’t. I want to be free.”
He laughed — high, bright, cruel. “Free? No, no, pet. You don’t need freedom. You need me.”
His hand lingered at her throat, thumb stroking her pulse, and she flinched. Just enough for him to notice. His eyes narrowed, glassy smile widening.
“…Bruises,” he murmured. “Flinches. Lies about falling.” His tone was sing-song, but sharper now. “Ohhh. My pet has been bullied, hasn’t she?”
Her lips parted in shock, but before she could answer, a scream ripped through the halls.
She ran toward it before she could think. The sanctuary doors gaped open, lantern light spilling across the mats.
And there —
The woman who had tormented her writhed on the floor, limbs snapping under a crust of spreading ice. Douma moved among them like a dancer, fans flashing, humming cheerfully. Blood sprayed, frost bloomed across the tatami. Their cries tore through the air until his teeth sank in, crunching bone, drinking deep.
She froze, horror rooting her to the spot. The copper tang filled her lungs, the sight seared into her mind: blood dripping down his chin, his eyes glassy, his grin radiant as he devoured them.
Her gasp betrayed her. His head snapped up.
“Ahhh, pet.” He licked blood from his fingers, stepping lightly over a frozen corpse. “You weren’t supposed to see this yet.”
She stumbled back, trembling. But he only chuckled, approaching with arms open as though to embrace his sweet pet.
“Don’t be afraid. They hurt you, didn’t they? I simply took care of them. Now no one will ever touch you again. Isn’t that proof of how much I adore you?”
His bloody hand caught her cheek, tilting it upward. Sticky crimson smeared across her skin. His voice dropped, velvet-soft:
“Safe. Loved. Protected. Because you’re mine.”
That night, when the temple fell silent and the blood was gone from the mats, he came to her again.
Douma had washed clean, lotus oil perfuming his robes. He found her curled on the bedding, stiff and shaking. His smile softened as he folded his fans away, slipping onto the futon beside her.
“Pet,” he whispered, gathering her into his lap as she resisted weakly, “poor little thing. Did I frighten you? Ohh, don’t cry. I’m your master — it’s my duty to care for you.”
His hand stroked through her hair, slow, coaxing, lulling her despite the tremors.
“They bullied you, didn’t they? Hurt my sweet darling until she thought she wanted to run. How cruel of them. How cruel of you, too, to doubt me.”
Her sobs shook her chest. He shushed them, pressing a cool kiss to her temple. Then, from his sleeve, he drew a chain of silver, tiny bells dangling.
“Lift your foot.”
She hesitated. His smile widened. Slowly, the curvy beauty obeyed. He clasped the anklet around her ankle, tugging until the bells chimed.
“There now. Perfect.” His fingers lingered on the chain, pulling gently so the bells sang again. “Now I’ll always know where you are. My little songbird can’t fly away.”
She trembled, the bells jingling faintly with every shiver. He kissed her cheek, sweet and terrible.
“Shhh. You don’t need freedom. You don’t need a husband. You don’t need anyone but me. Sleep, pet. You’re safe.”
And as the bells rang softly in the stillness, she realized the truth: the cage was not the temple. It was him.
The anklet sang with every step she took. A reminder, a leash, a soft chime that marked her as his. Followers lowered their eyes when she passed, but their envy only grew sharper.
And yet, not every gaze cut her.
He was new. Younger than most of the faithful, with a smile that didn’t seem sharpened by spite. His eyes were soft when they found her, curious but never cruel.
The first time he spoke to her, it was in the courtyard, the night air cool and clean. She struggled with a tray too heavy for one person, the bells at her ankle betraying her labored steps.
“Here,” he said gently, steadying the tray before it tipped. His hand brushed hers — warm. Human. “You shouldn’t have to carry all this yourself.”
Her breath caught. She murmured thanks, head bowed.
After that, he lingered. Quiet, careful. A word here, a smile there. He asked if she was well, if she’d eaten, and if the bruises she tried to hide still ached. She denied it, always. But his eyes said he didn’t believe her.
It became a habit. His shadow follows hers in small ways. Carrying burdens before she could. He set fruit trays aside so she didn’t have to lift them. Once, when the anklet bells rang too loudly as she stumbled, he reached out, catching her elbow before she fell. His fingers squeezed lightly, steadying her.
She smiled then. Small. Shy. But real.
And that was the beginning of the end.
At least she told herself it was nothing. Just kindness in a place that had none. Just warmth she’d forgotten existed.
She even realized she was waiting for it. Waiting for him. For the gentle questions, brief touches, and small mercies no one else provided.
Her chest ached when he laughed at something she said. Her stomach fluttered when his hand brushed hers again. It was innocent — painfully so. But the feeling grew, uncoiling inside her like a secret she dared not name.
She imagined things. A life far from the temple. His hand holding hers openly, without chains. His smile across a table in a home that smelled of wood and stew. The kind of silly, human dream Douma had mocked from her plump lips.
And for a moment, she believed it could be real.
But Douma noticed everything.
The way her anklet rang when she hurried to meet the newcomer. The way her lips curved softly when he lingered by her side. The warmth in her eyes — warmth she never gave to him.
He said nothing at first. Just watched. His smile never faltered, but his gaze lingered too long, sharp behind the glassy façade.
Until one night, when the temple quieted, as the new guy handed her a tray, his fingers lingered a heartbeat longer than they should have. Her smile trembled, but it was real.
“Be careful,” he murmured. “Don’t let them overwork you.”
When he turned to leave, she watched him go, a strange ache stirring in her chest. For a moment, she let herself imagine it — walking beside him, free of chains, living that silly dream of a home, a family, a future.
She turned to leave — and crashed into something unyielding.
Her breath caught.
Douma.
He stood there, crystalline eyes glinting, smile too sharp. He wasn’t looking at his pet. He was watching the young man walk away, his gaze fixed and unnatural, as though savoring the thought of snapping his bones between his teeth.
“Doma…” her voice broke, trembling. She knew instantly. She’d fucked up.
At last, his gaze dropped to her. His smile widened.
“You smiled at him,” he sang softly, glassy eyes unblinking. “Not at me.”
“Doma, please—” she whined, grabbing his robes, panic clawing her throat as he shifted to follow. “Don’t. Please! Look at me, not him. I’m yours. I’m yours.”
Her words snagged something inside him. Jealousy — strange, ugly, thrilling. His chest ached with it, a sharpness he had never known. And he wanted none of that.
“Ohhh, my darling pet. Yes. Yes, you are.”
He shoved her back against the nearest pillar, robes tearing loose. Her gasp cracked into a moan as he yanked her leg up, pinning it over his arm. The silver anklet jingled wildly, bells chiming with every movement.
He thrust into her hard, brutally, the rhythm merciless. Every snap of his hips echoed in the temple, her cries bouncing back from the high ceiling.
“Mmmm,” he groaned, biting her throat, sucking bruises deep into her flesh. “Look at you. Spreading so sweet for me. Not him. Me.”
The anklet sang — shrill, humiliating — with every slam of his hips.
Her head tipped back, tears streaking her flushed face, and then her eyes locked on him.
The young man. Frozen in the shadows. Watching.
Her stomach dropped. Shame and heat burned her alive.
Douma immediately picked up on it, his smile turning sly as he leaned in. "Ohhh, he came looking for you—couldn’t stay away, could he? How touching. Now that he’s found you, let’s show him something he’ll never forget. It’s only fair he learns who you really belong to."
His thrusts grew sharper and deeper, each one punctuated by the chiming bells at her ankle. "Perfect. Let him see how my pet moans for me."
She tried to turn away, but his hand seized her chin, forcing her face toward the shadows.
“No, no, pet. Look. Look at him. Let him see how ruined you are.”
Her eyes met the cultist’s, locked in horror as Douma slammed harder, kissing her hungrily, his tongue forcing into her mouth as though devouring her very breath.
He broke away only to trail wet kisses down her chest, squeezing her softness with greedy hands. “Look at her,” he called loudly, his voice bright and cruel. “My soft, perfect pet. Every inch, worshipped. Every sound she makes, mine.”
His mouth latched onto her skin, sucking hard until her flesh bloomed with purple marks. His hands kneaded her hips, belly, breasts — possessive, reverent, mocking all at once.
“Ahhh, yes. So sweet. So chubby. So made for me,” he groaned, his breath hot and filthy in his sweet curvy pet ear. “See how your body begs? Clenching, dripping, singing for me.”
Her cries grew frantic, body convulsing as pleasure ripped through her. The bells at her ankle went mad, shrieking with her every tremor.
Douma laughed breathlessly, nipping at her jaw as she came undone. “Good girl. My good pet. Show him. Show him who owns you.”
She sobbed into his mouth, ruined and mindless, while he groaned, his thrusts growing frantic, sweat slicking his temples.
“I’ll breed you right here,” he whispered, voice shaking with glee. “Fill you until you can’t walk, until he never dares dream of you again.”
The man in the shadows flinched, his face pale, but Douma only laughed louder, his jealousy twisting into giddy triumph. His kisses turned fevered, bruising, his grip iron as he pounded her through another climax, forcing her to scream and cling to him as the anklet bells sang her surrender.
Until there was nothing left — no shame, no dream, no hope — only him.
Finally, when her body went slack, ruined and trembling in his arms, Douma didn’t stop smiling. He pressed a final kiss to her cheek, stroking her hair with mock tenderness.
“Such a good pet,” he cooed. “So obedient when you’re reminded who you belong to.”
Then, his gaze shifted. Past her. Toward the man frozen in the shadows.
Douma’s smile sharpened into something colder.
“Ohhh… still here? How bold.” His voice was singsong, playful, but his grip on her thigh tightened until the bells screamed with the pressure. “Did you enjoy the show? Hm? She is lovely, isn’t she?”
The man stammered, trembling, but Douma only laughed.
“Don’t worry,” he said, pressing his mouth to her ear. “I won’t eat him. Yet. Fear tastes sweeter when it lingers.”
He tilted her chin, kissing her possessively, still pinning her open as he spoke past her lips.
“But remember this, little pet. He saw. He knows. And now he’ll never dare to look at you again.”
The man stumbled out, pale as death, while Douma hummed cheerfully, still rocking his silly curvy beauty in his arms as if nothing had happened.
Also, be mindful that I didn't really mention much of the reader's appearance (Besides, she's a female) since I wanted to keep it vague for everyone to relate as much as possible, though it is definitely for the most voluptuous side of ladies. 😊
Please be mindful that the photos are not mine, but the making of the collage is.
MINOR DNI!!!! 🔞🙅🏻♀️ If you're not comfortable with this, please ignore!
P.S. All characters are 18 and up.
Iruka Umino is the kind of man she should’ve passed by.
Not because he’s unkind — quite the opposite. He’s warm. Gentle. Polite to the point of being almost apologetic. He thanks shopkeepers twice, bows to elders like a schoolboy, and carries extra chalk in case one of his students breaks theirs.
She'd met men like him before.
And she never bothered to stop.
Because her life, until now, had been filled with chaos. With power. With shinobi who left her bruised and breathless for all the wrong reasons — men who wanted her body but never looked her in the eye when they came.
Iruka, though?
He looked.
And God, did he feel.
She first noticed Iruka outside the academy.
It was late afternoon—the golden hour—and she had only meant to pass the school on her way home. The streets were lively on that side of town, lined with trees and the scent of chalk dust and sun-warmed wood. She hadn’t expected to see everyone there.
Especially him.
There he was.
Iruka Umino crouched low near the school gates, surrounded by half a dozen chattering academy students.
"Naruto," he sighed, voice patient as he reached up to gently tug a blond boy back down from the top of the gate. "How many times have I asked you not to scale the front wall?"
The boy grinned guiltily, feet dangling. "Like... five?"
"One hundred and twenty-six," Iruka replied, dry as parchment, but his hand was already smoothing the boy’s hair with practiced fondness.
She paused near the edge of the gate, hidden behind a fence post, watching.
Another child tugged on Iruka’s vest and held out a snapped practice kunai, lip trembling. Without hesitation, Iruka pulled a fresh one from his pouch and handed it over. He wiped dirt from their cheeks, knelt to eye level, and reassured them with a smile that looked like warmth carved into skin.
He wasn’t performing. He wasn’t trying to impress anyone.
He was just being kind.
He noticed a girl whose sandals were untied and knelt to fix them without being asked. Naruto cracked a joke and Iruka laughed, not from obligation, but from delight. The students adored him, leaned on him, followed him like ducklings. He was their rock.
And something in her melted.
Because in that small, unguarded moment, she saw it—the man who stayed late to sweep the floor after a genin test, who walked students home, who remembered birthdays and packed extra pencils just in case.
He was steady.
Soft.
Safe.
Later that day, while nursing tea at her favorite café, she mentioned him—offhandedly—to her friends.
And the laughter that followed was immediate.
"Wait. That Iruka? The schoolteacher?"
"You’re not serious. Come on. You’re kidding, right?"
She arched a brow.
"Do I look like I’m joking?"
They laughed again.
"You could have anyone. ANBU, jounin, shinobi with actual reputations—and you’re thirsting over a guy who probably alphabetizes his spice rack?"
She just smiled, dragging her fingertip along the rim of her cup.
"You say that like it’s a bad thing."
"Sweetie. Be serious. The man says 'excuse me' when someone bumps into him. I bet he apologizes during sex."
Her lips parted into a slow grin.
"Even better. I bet he asks first."
Their expressions turned to horror.
"Oh my god, you like that."
She just shrugged, unaffected.
"Consent is hot. You all keep chasing danger—I’m gonna let the nice one take me for a change."
They muttered something about how she'd lost her mind.
But her mind was made up.
Iruka Umino had this curvy beauty's attention—and he didn’t even know it yet.
She ran into him again at the bookstore.
He was holding a weathered volume on chakra theory, murmuring the words to himself as he read. She commented on the text, and he jumped slightly, startled by her voice.
She grinned.
He flushed.
She asked if he liked it. He stammered through an answer, voice soft, explaining how he used it for lesson plans. There was no ego in it. No posturing.
Just care.
So she asked him out.
He blinked, stunned.
"Me? Are you... Sure?"
She was. Entirely.
And he said yes before he could stop himself.
She took him out. Again. And again.
Each time, he was stunned. Every moment was surreal. She liked to tease him, lean in close, and touch his hand under the table. She made him laugh. She asked questions like his answers mattered. And he never stopped blushing.
He opened doors for her. Walked her home. Held her coat with gentle fingers and never once tried to take more than she offered. And when he did touch her—when their fingers brushed, or their knees knocked beneath the table—he always hesitated. Waited.
May I?
Gods, how that made her ache.
She'd never had a man look at her like that. Not with hunger, but with reverence. Like her smile could undo him. Like her words were commandments.
And the curvy girl? She teased him for it. Constantly.
"You always get this red when I flirt with you, Ruka?"
"You’re lucky you’re cute when you stammer."
She'd lean in close just to see him squirm. Drag a fingertip over his collar just to watch his breath catch. She loved the way he tried to hide his reactions—loved more how easily she could undo him.
Once, during a festival date, he insisted on winning her a prize at a game booth. She pointed to a stuffed dolphin plushie—soft blue with oversized eyes.
He stared.
"That one?"
"Mmhm."
She gave him a look that said Don’t play dumb, and his eyes widened as realization dawned.
"You—"
"Yep," she grinned. "He’s coming home with me. Gonna curl up in bed with me, too. Just like my favorite dolphin."
"H-he’ll be sleeping in your bed?" he stammered.
She licked her lips slowly.
"Mmhmm. All night. Maybe I’ll cuddle him between my thighs."
The blush that took over his face could’ve powered half the festival.
Still, he didn’t hesitate. He squared his shoulders, jaw tight with determination, arms flexing as he lined up his shot. His voice dipped low, focused, almost growled with concentration.
And when he won—triumphant and breathless—she leaned in, kissed his cheek, and whispered:
“My hero.”
Iruka nearly short-circuited.
She tucked the dolphin under her arm and linked her fingers with his. She swore she heard him murmur something about being unworthy of sea creatures for the rest of the night.
But he didn’t stop smiling.
Not once.
Because no one had ever adored her the way Iruka did. Not as something to conquer, but something to keep.
And maybe that’s what did it.
He was kind. Attentive. And asked before he touched. His fingers would hover like they were begging for permission, and when she said yes? God, the way his pupils blew wide, the way he trembled when she let him kiss her, touch her—as if he was overwhelmed by the mere gift of it.
That night, when she brought him home, her heart beat with more than lust. She was wet just watching him sit there on her bed, nervous and waiting, but more than that—she was greedy for him.
'He’s mine now,' she thought. 'My sweet man. And I want to ruin him.'
She didn’t just want Iruka Umino.
She wanted to own every sound he made. Every helpless look. Every stammer and wide-eyed gasp. He wasn’t just a nice guy.
He was hers.
And now she wanted to see him the way no one else had.
It had been months of slow-burning, respectful affection. Dinners shared—forehead kisses. Gentle touches. And Iruka—ever the gentleman—never once pushed.
But she knew better.
She saw it in the way his jaw clenched whenever she leaned too close. The way he fumbled over his words when she hand brushed his thigh. The way his eyes, despite his discipline, would dip low and linger.
He wanted this woman. Badly.
But he was too careful. Too reverent. Always putting her comfort first.
So tonight, she decided it was time.
She'd taken him out for a quiet dinner—his favorite spot tucked away just off the main street, where he didn’t have to be anyone’s sensei or shinobi.
Just Iruka.
He smiled more in places like that.
Touched her hand across the table. Blushed when she leaned close to whisper praise into his ear.
He looked at her like he couldn’t believe she was real. And by the time dessert came, she was already burning for him.
Afterward, she asked him to walk her home.
"I have a surprise for you," she said, soft and sweet, lacing her fingers through his as she pulled him along.
His brows had furrowed. "A surprise?"
"You’ll like it," she promised with a sly smile. “It’s something I’ve been wanting to give you… for months.”
By the time she stepped into her place and closed the door behind him, he was visibly nervous. Flushed, fidgety. Like he could already sense what was coming.
She kissed him at the door. Slower than usual. Deeper. A kiss that said stay.
He did.
Now he sat at the foot of her bed, eyes wide and breath shallow as his girlfriend disappeared into the other room.
And when she stepped out again…
His breath caught.
She didn’t say a word. Just stood there barefoot in the soft hallway light—wrapped in a delicate bathrobe, loosely tied at the waist, shadows dancing over the sheer mesh underneath.
And then, with no fanfare, his curvy beauty slowly untied the robe.
It slipped from her shoulders and pooled at her feet.
Iruka’s mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again.
Because there she stood—curves framed by a sultry, mesh maxi nightdress, slitted at the sides to reveal soft thighs and just enough of everything else to steal the breath from his lungs. The fabric clung to her, sheer and teasing, draping just low enough to keep his imagination spinning.
“God,” he whispered. His voice cracked.
She tilted her head, lips curving slowly. “What? Don’t like it?”
“I—I didn’t say that—” His eyes darted over her, voice hoarse. “You’re… beautiful.”
She smiled, widening just a touch wicked now as she stepped closer.
“Oh no,” she gasped in mock surprise, lifting a hand to her cheek. “Now I’m the one getting shy…”
That drew a stunned little laugh from him, barely audible, breathless. The heat between her softened for just a moment, enough to let his tension ease.
But only for a moment.
Because then she turned. Slowly made her way across the room. And when she climbed onto the bed softly, purposefully, Iruka followed with his eyes the whole way.
And then he froze again.
His gaze flicked up, only to catch the wide, glossy eyes of the dolphin plushie perched beside her pillow. Its stitched smile stared directly at him.
Iruka blanched.
She watched his ears flush a shade redder.
Wordlessly, sheepishly, he reached over and gently turned the plushie around—face down. His voice came out in a small, guilty murmur: “Sorry, little guy…”
She laughed. She couldn’t help it—her hands flew to her mouth as she giggled, warm and breathless and completely charmed.
When she looked back at him, Iruka was blushing furiously, but grinning shyly too.
She reached out and cupped his cheek. “That’s better,” she said, lips brushing his, voice full of fire and fondness. “Now, come here.”
And this time he did.
She watched him with amusement, warmth curling in her belly.
He was still standing near the foot of the bed, trying to collect himself, trying, and failing, not to stare.
She didn’t say a word. She just lay back against the pillows—soft, slow, eyes half-lidded—spreading her thighs just enough for the mesh of her nightdress to shift and expose more skin.
It worked.
Iruka swallowed hard.
Then, hesitantly, he crawled toward her.
Palms pressed into the mattress, body moving like he was being drawn in by gravity alone. But halfway there, he stopped—hands still braced, knees bent beneath him. His shoulders tense.
He froze.
His eyes flicked up to hers.
Awestruck.
Uncertain.
"Are you sure?" he asked softly, voice cracking on the last word. "I don’t want to ruin this. I don't want to—"
"You won’t," she whispered.
And then, just to make sure he didn’t run, she stretched one leg out toward him.
Her toes touched his knee.
He jolted slightly, but she saw the way his breath hitched. His eyes dropped instinctively to her foot, her leg, her exposed thigh.
She trailed her foot higher.
Slow. Deliberate.
His lips parted as she grazed up his thigh, teasing over the fabric of his pants—just shy of the growing bulge there. Then she pulled her foot back, curling it around his waist and tugging gently, like an arm beckoning him closer.
“Iruka…” her voice was soft, sing-song. “Are you really going to sit there and let me do all the work?”
His jaw clenched. His fingers dug into the mattress. But still—he didn’t move.
That made you grin.
She dragged her foot along the length of his thigh again, this time pressing her toes ever so lightly against his arousal. The tension in him snapped tight. His hips rocked just slightly.
She purred.
“Mmm… There you are.”
He made a soft, strangled sound. Hands fisting the sheets.
“I know how badly you’ve wanted to touch me,” she whispered. “The way you look at me when you think I’m not watching… It’s okay. I want it too.”
Still, he hesitated.
So she leaned up onto her elbows, the mesh nightdress shifting with her movement, revealing the bare, soft curves beneath. And in the low light, she gave him a look—inviting, daring.
“Ask me,” she murmured.
He blinked, dazed. “What?”
“Ask to touch me.”
He swallowed. “Can I… can I touch you?”
“Tell me what you want.”
His breath caught.
“I… I want to see you,” he said. “All of you. Please.”
Her body lit with heat.
She nodded, slowly. “Then help me take this off.”
His hands moved with reverence. Careful. Awed.
As he reached for the ties at her hips, his fingertips brushed her skin—and she saw his entire body shiver. The way he looked at her then, like she was sacred, like he was terrified to do anything wrong…
She nearly melted.
He eased the mesh fabric up, hands trembling. She arched slightly to help him, offering no resistance. Letting him undress her like a gift he’d finally earned.
And when her body was fully bare before him, his breath left him in a ragged exhale.
She was soft. Curvy. Glowing in the low light.
And he was wrecked by the sight.
“You’re perfect,” he whispered. “You’re… you’re everything.”
He stares like a man caught in a dream—unable to move, unwilling to blink, terrified it might vanish.
She watches his eyes trail downward, slow and reverent, drinking in the soft curve of her belly, the fullness of her breasts, the way her thick thighs press together. He doesn't hide the awe—not anymore. His lips part, breath shallow, like she's something sacred.
And then—deliberately—she spread her legs for him.
His breath catches like he’s been struck. Hands frozen on his thighs, jaw tight with restraint, chest rising faster now.
She let her hand slide between her thighs, fingers immediately coated in slick. A soft whimper escapes her lips, and the sound breaks him. His hands flex, gripping the edge of the bed as though it's anchoring him to reality.
But her eyes stay locked on his.
"You’re watching, right?" She purr, voice low and decadent. "I’d hate to waste the show."
He nods. Too fast. Too eager.
Her fingers dip deeper, parting herself with a teasing stretch—shameless and deliberate. Her slick glistens in the low light, and the sight of it makes his lips part in silent worship.
“She’s begging, Iruka,” she cooed, biting her lip. “You’re not gonna help her out?”
A strangled noise leaves him. His face is flushed—crimson high on his cheeks, sweat beading lightly at his temples. His pants are visibly strained, but he doesn’t move.
God, he’s holding on by a thread.
And you love it.
Her fingers stroke slow, lazy circles around her clit, her hips lifting just slightly into your touch. She gasps—real and breathy—and his whole body tenses at the sound.
Then her other hand lifts to her mouth. She pressed two fingers against her lips. Lick them. Moan softly around the tips like she's tasting him instead.
He groans—deep and wounded—and his eyes flutter shut for a heartbeat before snapping open again, desperate not to miss a second.
“Does it feel unfair?” the curvy beauty whispered, sultry and cruel in the sweetest way. “Getting to watch me come… but not being the one to make it happen?”
His knuckles go white against the bedframe.
"Please…" he breathes—hoarse, reverent.
She crooked her finger, a beckoning little motion.
“Take it off.”
He scrambles—shaking hands, pushing off his vest and shirt, stripping himself down to bare skin and vulnerability. His hair is a mess. His chest heaves. And God, what a chest it is—toned, broad, with every line carved and solid from years of discipline, faint scars here and there. He stands there, bare-chested and flushed, unsure of what to do with his hands. Like he’s been seen for the first time.
She hummed in approval, her tongue wetting her lips.
“Well, damn... you’ve been hiding that from me, Ruka?”
He stammers—adorably embarrassed—and she giggles, her teasing softer now, edged with affection.
"Now I really want to see what else you’ve been holding back."
He inches closer—nervous, overwhelmed—but his eyes don’t leave her.
She reached up and caught his wrist, guiding his palm gently to her thigh. “It’s okay,” she whispers, voice barely more than breath. “You can touch me now.”
His hand trembles as it finds purchase on her skin—thumb brushing slowly up her inner thigh, reverent and warm. She feels his breath hitch as her muscles twitch beneath his touch. It’s soft, almost worshipful, like he’s memorizing her with each pass.
His eyes burn.
She leans in close, brushing her lips just shy of his. “Ask again,” she murmurs against his cheek. “But this time… tell me what you want.”
He swallows hard, breath shaking.
“I want…” His voice breaks, and he gathers himself with visible effort. “I want to taste you.”
She grinned—feral, victorious.
“Then come get what you want.”
And when he sinks to his knees between her legs, the look he gives this curvy beauty isn’t just lust.
It’s devotion.
It’s adoration.
It’s Iruka, trembling in awe of the woman who trusted him enough to fall apart in front of him.
And he’s ready to earn every single breathless moan.
He settles between your thighs like a man before an altar.
His hands tremble on her hips, asking permission again. She threaded her fingers through his tied-up hair and guided him gently forward. “Don’t think,” she whispers. “Just feel.”
He kisses her inner thigh first—soft, reverent.
Then her hip. Then lower.
His mouth meets her heat with careful grace. A soft press of lips. A slow, testing stroke of the tongue. It’s hesitant, impractical.
But it’s worshipful.
She gasped softly. “That’s it, baby… You’re doing so good…”
He groans into her, spurred on by praise, and licks again—deeper now, slower. He follows every twitch of her hips, every breathless sound, adjusting, learning.
And when he latches on, tongue flicking against her clit, she cries out.
Her hips buck. Her thighs twitch.
But Iruka’s grip tightens.
And then—he pulls back. Just a moment. Just to speak.
“You wanna close them so bad, huh?” he pants. “Alright.”
Before she can question him, he moves.
Takes her trembling legs and folds them together. Then up.
She gasps as he folds her in half—knees toward her chest, thighs pressed tight, her ass lifted, her slick folds glistening and spread.
The angle is obscene.
He locks her legs over his shoulders, holding her completely open. One arm wraps under her hips, supporting her. The other palms her ass, gripping tightly to keep her still.
Nowhere to hide.
His mouth finds her again, tongue dragging slow, deep strokes between her sealed lips—up and down, up and down, licking the cleft where her folds kiss.
She sobbed his name.
He moans into her, lips pressing reverent kisses to her slit, tongue dipping down to tease her entrance, tasting the slick pooling there. Her thighs tremble on his shoulders, but he doesn’t let up.
If anything, he holds her tighter. Possessive. Inescapable.
His lips wrap around her clit and suck—gently, then firmly. She arches. Her breath stutters.
“Fuck—Iruka—”
Her fingers curl into the sheets. One hand grips his hair. The stretch of her folded body makes every nerve scream with sensation, and he doesn’t stop.
He devours her.
He groans against her. Kissing her like her pussy is sacred. Worships her with mouth and tongue, trembling hands keeping her open, his own breath ragged and full of awe.
She's gone.
She can barely speak. Her moans turn to sobs. Her body shakes.
And when her orgasm hits—sharp, blinding, raw—it tears through her like lightning.
Her legs tense around his head. Her cunt pulses. She cries out his name, back arching violently as Iruka holds her down and keeps licking, drawing it out, guiding his sweet girl through it.
Only when her thighs begin to twitch from overstimulation does he slow.
He kisses her inner thigh. Her mound. One last soft kiss to her clit.
And then he lifts his head.
His face is soaked. His lips are swollen. His eyes were wide, awestruck.
And she, wrecked and glowing, lifts her head just enough to grab his chin and kiss him.
It’s messy. It’s hot. His lips are wet with her, and she moans into his mouth like she's tasting herself on him—and maybe that’s exactly what she's doing.
She stroked his cheek gently.
He rests his head against her thigh, breathless and undone.
"Now....what do you say~"
“...Thank you,” he murmurs, voice hoarse.
She smiles. “You’re welcome,” she whispers, brushing his hair back. “You really wanted that, huh?”
He nods, dazed.
And you?
She's never felt more seen. More worshipped. More wanted.
Iruka’s breath still fans against her thigh, his lips swollen from worship, eyes dazed but locked on hers like he’s never seen anything more beautiful.
She stroked his cheek, voice soft but teasing: “You okay down there?”
He lets out a quiet, breathless laugh. “You’re asking me that?”
She smiled, brushing her thumb under his eye. He leans into the touch like a man lost in his woman. And then—
“I want you,” he murmurs, low and reverent. “I want to make love to you.”
Her chest tightens. She heard it—the shift in his voice. Not rushed. Not desperate. Just raw honesty, warm and certain. It makes her heart flutter and her thighs ache.
She nods, voice low. “Then come up here.”
He shifts upward, kissing her lips sweetly—once, twice, lingering. She feels his hands on either side of her body, steadying himself as he breathes in her closeness. And then he stills.
“…Wait.” He pulls back slightly, eyes widening. “Shit.”
Her brow arches. “What?”
He looks sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t bring protection.”
She blinks.
Then grin.
“Oh?”
He flushes. “I wasn’t—I didn’t think tonight would… I mean, I didn’t want to assume, and I wanted to take things slow for you, and—”
“Sweetheart,” she giggles, pulling him down by the shirt collar to kiss his cheek. “You’re adorable.”
He groans into her neck. “This is not how I pictured saying that.”
She kissed his temple. “You want me?”
“I need you.”
She hums, trailing her fingers down his arm. “Then you’ll just have to pull out.”
He pulls back again, eyes wide.
She smirked. “I trust you. Besides…” her legs slide up along his sides, teasing him. “Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had you between my thighs.”
That does something to him.
His expression shifts—flushed, but playful. Heated. “You keep saying things like that, and I’m gonna lose whatever control I have left.”
“Then let’s not waste time.”
She cupped his cheek, thumb stroking slowly across his bottom lip.
“Strip for me, Iruka.”
He draws in a breath.
Then rises from the bed.
His hand reaches up—fingers slipping through the tie holding his ponytail. With one smooth pull, his hair falls loose, tumbling around his face in soft, inky waves. A few strands fall over his brow, and he rakes a hand through them—slow and effortless. Confident without realizing.
She swears her stomach flips.
Gods. This man.
He catches her look and tilts his head, a playful, crooked smile blooming. “What?”
“You’re doing that on purpose.”
“Doing what?”
“That,” she gestures. “The hair. The smile. The… everything.”
He chuckles, flushed but proud. “Guess I’m just trying to impress my girl.”
“You’re doing more than that,” she breathed. “You’re ruining me.”
Still smiling, he slips off the rest of his clothes. When his waistband drops, her breath catches.
His cock springs free—thick and flushed, already leaking for her. A shade darker than his golden skin, uncut, the heavy tip glistening with arousal. It twitches slightly as the cool air hits, weighty and proud.
Instinctively, he covers himself with one hand—more out of surprise than shame.
She brow lifts. “Really? After everything we just did, now you’re shy?”
He shrugs, sheepish but charming. “Guess I’m more nervous with you than anyone else.”
Her expression softens, lips curving into something both fond and wicked.
“Don’t be,” she murmured. “Come closer.”
She stretched her leg toward him—her foot brushing the back of his hand where he still shields himself.
He freezes.
Then looks down at her, caught.
She gives a soft nudge with her toes. “Move your hand, baby.”
Slowly, hesitantly, he obeys.
And she moans softly at the sight of him—long and thick and perfect, the flushed crown begging for her.
She trails her foot along the inside of his thigh, then up—teasing, grazing over the underside of his length, feather-light. He hisses softly.
Her toes brush his cock, deliberately teasing the tip.
He twitches. His jaw tightens.
“Iruka,” she whispers, voice full of heat and promise, “you don’t have to hold back tonight.”
“I’m not trying to,” he mutters, voice low and reverent, a man barely holding it together. “But if you keep touching me like that…”
She bit her lip. “Then come here. Let me feel all of you.”
He climbs over her, his bare body settling between her thighs—solid, warm, golden skin pressed against hers.
His loose hair falls around his face as he hovers above her, eyes locked on hers.
One hand comes to her cheek.
He cups her face gently, brushing his thumb over her bottom lip. “You sure?”
She nods, lifting her hips just enough to meet him. “I’ve never been more sure.”
His lips descend onto hers—slow and deep, trembling with heat. And then, with one tender, aching thrust…
He begins to sink into her.
Inch by devastating inch—her breath catching, her back arching—as he stretches her open and fills her completely. The pressure is divine, her walls fluttering around him, trying to memorize every inch. He groans low, forehead pressed to hers, breath hot and shaky, as he finally bottoms out—seated deep, their bodies flush, her pulse thundering in her ears.
Her fingers claw at his back. His name spills from her plump lips, torn and reverent.
He doesn’t move right away. Just stays there—inside—like he’s afraid he might wake from a dream.
She pulses around him again.
And his restraint fractures.
Iruka sinks into her like a man tasting heaven for the first time.
His thick, uncut length pushes slowly, reverently, parting her with aching care. A deep groan rumbles in his chest as her heat envelops him inch by inch — tight, wet, maddening. She gasps, eyes fluttering as she stretches around him, her curvy body arching instinctively beneath his weight.
“Fuck,” he pants, bracing his forearms on either side of her head. “You feel—hmph, you feel so good…”
Her thick thighs wrap around his hips, pulling him deeper, greedy for the stretch, for the way he fills her so completely. He buries his face into her neck, breath hot and ragged, muttering broken praise against her skin.
“You’re so beautiful… all of you…” His voice trembles as his hands glide down her waist, exploring every soft curve like he’s memorizing it. “So perfect, sweetheart… can’t believe I get to be with you like this.”
Her full breasts press against his chest as she arches, sighing into his shoulder. “You’re lucky I’m letting you,” she murmurs, teasing — but her fingers are stroking his back, slow and tender, nails dragging lightly down to his hips.
He shudders.
Then starts to move.
Slow at first. Deep. Every thrust is deliberate, worshipful, dragging along her walls with reverence and hunger. His hair falls around their faces, sticking to his temple with sweat. His eyes never leave her — golden brown and glazed with awe.
“You’re mine,” he whispers, hips rolling in rhythm with hers. “Mine.”
She smiles, wicked and soft all at once. “All yours, baby.”
He groans like he’s losing his mind.
Her hands cup his cheeks, thumbs brushing his flushed skin. “You’re doing so well,” she whispers. “Fucking me so good… just like I knew you would.”
He whines — boyish, desperate — but still keeps his pace slow, hips grinding with control.
“I don’t want it to end,” he mutters, kissing her cheek, her jaw, her lips. “Wanna stay inside you forever.”
She clenches around him in response, making him twitch.
“Fuck, don’t do that,” he pants, eyes screwed shut.
She grinned. “You’re close, aren’t you?”
He nods, helpless. “Yeah… I’m not gonna last—shit—”
His pace stutters, breath ragged.
“Iruka,” she purred, voice syrup-sweet and teasing. “You better pull out, remember?”
His eyes fly open wide, panicked, and he tries to slow, to pull back, but her legs wrap around his waist like a vice.
“Wait—baby, I need to—”
“Just a little longer~” she cooed, tightening her grip. “You feel so good inside…”
“Fuck—don’t say that—I need to stop—”
She licked her lips, gaze wicked. “Then why aren’t you stopping?”
His hips jerk forward, deeper.
He’s trembling now, muscles taut, sweat dripping down his neck as her curvy body writhes beneath him — plush, wet, needy. Every thrust hits deeper, harder, sloppier.
She whispers into his ear: “You gonna fill me up, sensei?”
He groans, wrecked. “P-Please, don’t… please—”
She arches into him, breasts brushing his chest, her gummy walls gripping him like a vice. “Do it,” she whispers. “Cum inside me, my Ruka. Ruin me.”
He gasps—once, loud—and then loses it.
His thrusts stutter. His jaw drops. He drives himself as deep as he can go and spills inside her with a desperate cry of her name. She feels him pulse inside her, hot and thick, painting her insides with everything he has.
And still—she didn't let him move.
Her legs keep him locked inside until he’s trembling above her, breathing like he just survived a war.
“…Holy shit,” he breathes, eyes fluttering shut.
She stroked his back as he panted against her chest. And then after a few long, blissed-out moments, he finally starts to shift, trying to pull away.
But she stops him.
She spread her legs wide with a lazy stretch, moaning softly as his softening length slips free, thick, flushed, still slick with her arousal and his release.
And then, with one hand, she reached down…
Spreading her folds for him, letting him see.
His cum drips out of her used hole in slow, thick globs, trailing down to her ass, sticking to her thighs. She smirked at the stunned look on his face.
“Look at that mess,” she teases. “Hmm, Iruka. You came so much.”
His face flushes deep red, but he doesn’t look away.
She tilted her hips up, showing him more. “Oh no, what’re we gonna do now, huh? What if I make you take responsibility?”
His breath catches.
“I will,” he says, low and firm.
She blinks.
He meets her gaze, hand curling around her thigh possessively. “I’ll take care of everything. I’ll take care of you.”
Her smirk falters — just a little. The teasing lingers on her lips, but her heart skips.
“You sure you’re ready for that?” she asks, voice softer now.
He leans in, eyes steady and warm. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
Her lips part.
He kisses her inner thigh, slow and reverent, and then rests his head there, murmuring softly:
“I’ll never let you go.”
And from the look in his eyes, blown, breathless, devoted, she believed him.
Bonus:
- A few weeks later-
She saw him before he saw her.
Tucked into the corner of Ichiraku Ramen, Iruka sat with Naruto — smiling warmly as the blonde launched into some animated retelling of a mission gone wrong. Iruka had that gentle, patient look he always wore when Naruto talked, the kind that said I’m listening, even if the story had ten detours and three explosions.
His vest was unzipped. Sleeves rolled up. Hair tied neatly — but a few strands had slipped loose around his face, soft and unruly from the summer heat. That boyish charm that always made her stomach twist, even now.
She stood just outside the covered stall with her friends, half-shielded by the curtain.
And God… he looked good.
Her friends were mid-conversation, but her eyes were fixed.
They noticed.
“Oh my God,” one whispered. “You’re looking at him like he’s dessert.”
“Technically,” she murmured, lips curving, “he was.”
They choked.
She stepped forward slightly, letting the breeze ruffle the curtain as she peeked in again — eyes locked on the man who still didn’t know she was watching. He was laughing at something Naruto said, shaking his head fondly, hand resting lazily on the counter.
His fingers tapped absently.
She'd felt those fingers everywhere the other night.
“Still can’t believe you ended up with him,” her friend murmured. “He’s like… polite.”
She tilted her head, a soft smile curling at her lips. “He is.”
Another chimed in. “He blushes when you kiss his cheek. Pays for your drinks. Leave notes on your door.”
“He looks like the type to cry during a missionary,” the first deadpanned.
She raised her brows. “He cries if I don’t let him finish inside.”
They all stared.
“Whines,” she added with a sweet lilt. “Begs. Promises he’ll pull out — and means it. Every single time.”
The sound her friends made couldn’t be found in any dictionary.
She kept going, shameless.
“But he’s learning,” she said, feigning casual. “Studying me like I’m sacred. Like every moan is a lesson. And the enthusiasm?” she smiled slowly. “Let’s just say what he lacks in experience… he makes up for with everything else.”
Their jaws dropped.
“He worships,” she whispered. “He listens. He wants to be good for me. And oh so, he is.”
They turned in unison to peek into the stall, like they had to confirm the man she was talking about was actually that man.
He still hadn’t noticed her.
She stepped into the ramen stall just as Naruto shouted something about “getting blown halfway across the field,” chopsticks midair, noodle halfway to his mouth.
Iruka turned, eyes flicking up at the sound of the bells—and when he saw her, his posture straightened. His smile bloomed instantly, boyish and warm.
“Hey, you,” she greeted, all soft-spoken sunshine as she slipped up beside him. “Fancy seeing my favorite teacher out in the wild.”
Iruka chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly caught between bashful and pleased. “Just lunch. Naruto dragged me out.”
Naruto grinned. “Yeah, I didn’t know Sensei had a girlfriend. You’re way too pretty for him.”
Her feigned shock. “You think so? I don’t know. He’s kind of my weakness.”
Iruka choked softly into his tea.
Her fingers brushed the hem of his vest, smoothing it idly. “He teaches… he listens… he looks good in green. What’s a girl to do?”
Iruka turned to her, flustered, but she was already peeking up at him with a sly little smile—like a secret only he could hear.
“Anyway,” she said sweetly, “I just came to remind you.”
“Remind me?”
She leaned in slightly, voice a whisper of sugar. “That you still owe me for last night.”
His eyes widened just enough. She could feel the tension in his body.
“But don’t worry,” she added, stepping back, eyes glittering. “I’m a very patient woman…”
Her fingers brushed his belt loop as she passed him, subtle and fast.
“…For now.”
Naruto gawked. “Wait—what’s happening—?”
Iruka didn’t answer.
He was too busy watching his sweet, curvy beauty walk away.
And he already knew the answer.
He’d be knocking on her door tonight—hot, aching, and absolutely at her sweet mercy.
Outside, her friends stared at her in disbelief.
“Okay,” one finally whispered, “I take it back. Give me a sweet one. Nice. Polite. Teaches kids and cries in bed — I want that.”
She chuckles. “You sure?”
Another groaned. “What, you think they don’t fuck?”
She turned, eyes shining. “They do. Especially when they care. That man learns my body like it’s scripture. Every stumble is adorable. Every kiss is earned. And when he gets it right—” she sighed, “—God help me.”
They stared.
“He may not be the smoothest,” she said, voice lower, “but he tries so hard. Makes love like it’s his job. Moans like I’m ruining him. Cradles me like I’m breakable. Holds me through the night like I’m air.”
“…Would you ever let him go?”
That one made her smile drop a degree.
“No,” she said, more firmly this time. “He’s mine.”
She said it like it was a fact. And it was.
Her friends blinked. A little stunned by the edge in her tone.
She exhaled and tilted her head. “Besides,” she added, slyly again, “he takes full responsibility for everything we do. Even when it’s clearly my fault.”
That drew a few laughs.
But she was already thinking of that first night. Of the way he moaned her name, promised to pull out—and didn’t. Of the way he apologized after, even though it had been her who wrapped her legs around him and said, “Just a bit longer~”
And later—when she showed him the mess he left spilling from you, still thick and warm—he had buried his face in her stomach and vowed to take responsibility for everything.
He still did.
And when she looked back toward the ramen stall one last time… he was already watching her.
That boyish smile.
That reverent gaze.
That fluttery heart of hers.
He’d be at her door tonight. She knew it. And this time, he’d finish what she started.
Because sweet men?
They didn’t just want you.
They worshipped you.
And Iruka was already hers.
-------
I'm just going to say this. I am so disappointed in the fandom for not lusting over this man as they should. Like I could not for the life of it find more fan art of this man. I need more fanfics and fanart of him. 😭🤧
Warning: Dirty Talk, Dom Nanami!, FLUFF, Protective Sex (Wrap it up), Confession...?, Mentions the use of toys, Caught, Rejection...?, Jealous Reader, Breeding Kink, Spanking, Breastplay, Hair Pulling, Doggy Style, Missionary, Voyeur, Basically, NSFW. 🤷🏻♀️
Also, be mindful that I didn't really mention much of the reader's appearance (Besides, she's a female) since i wanted to keep it vague for everyone to relate as much as possible, though it is definitely for the more voluptuous side of ladies. 😊
Please be mindful that the photos are not mine, but the making of the collage is.
MINOR DNI!!!! 🔞🙅🏻♀️ If you're not comfortable with this, please ignore!
P.S. All characters are 18 and up.
“I Want To Be Your Wife.”
The words fell into the quiet Tokyo street like a stone into still water — sharp, deliberate, and loud enough to make Kento Nanami stop mid-step.
He adjusted his glasses with a slow, deliberate motion, gaze lifting from the pavement to where she stood a few paces ahead.
She — in an unassuming coat during the cold weather, hands clasped behind her back, eyes bright and unflinching — smiled at him.
A strange little smile. The kind of smile that said she knew something he didn’t.
Nanami narrowed his eyes faintly, as if she were a puzzle someone had dumped at his feet without warning.
“…I’m sorry?” he said at last, his voice low and even.
“I said,” she repeated patiently — slowly, in case he’d missed it — leaning forward with unmistakable glee:
“I want to be your wife.”
He stared.
The fluorescent hum of the streetlight above buzzed in the silence between them.
It was absurd enough that he half-expected to wake up and realize this was just a stress-induced hallucination.
“Do I…” his brow furrowed slightly, “know you?”
“Nope,” she replied brightly, the p of the word popping like a bubble.
She tilted her head, voice warm and breezy as her smile widened.
“You don’t know me. But…”
Her eyes glittered with a dangerous kind of certainty as she grinned wider.
“…I know you.”
That earned a pause — a sharp one.
“…That’s concerning,” he said flatly.
“Don’t be so uptight,” she countered cheerfully, stepping closer — just enough to test his patience — while clasping her hands behind her back as though butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth.
She raised a finger, poking his chest lightly, her tone playfully chiding.
“I just think we’d be great together. You — the brooding salaryman-slash-sorcerer.”
Then her hand dropped, and she gave a breezy shrug, the hem of her coat swaying.
“Me — your stunning, perfect, already-committed housewife.”
Nanami’s lips pressed into a thin line. His face remained blank, but the faint twitch of his brow spoke volumes.
“You’re delusional,” he deadpanned.
But even as he said it, a thought irritated him — because what he hadn’t said was:
You’re wrong.
And that annoyed him more than her.
He adjusted his cuffs, turning sharply, intent on walking away and reclaiming what remained of his evening.
“And yet,” she called breezily behind him, gesturing vaguely at herself, “here I am, waiting for you again!”
“I can see that,” he muttered.
She only beamed — the kind of beam that could blind whole cities.
He pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers, breathing deep to summon patience, before striding away.
But of course…
Two weeks of her standing outside his apartment every morning — coat neat, hands folded, smile impossibly bright.
Two weeks of her somehow materializing at the exact train door he always used, greeting him like it was their little tradition.
Two weeks of her appearing at the edges of his assignments — behind caution tape, waving that same stupid paper bag of snacks with an expression that dared him to scold her in public.
At first, he ignored her.
Then he dismissed her — sharp words, polite refusals, a cold back.
But nothing worked.
She kept showing up.
Like clockwork.
Like she belonged.
And worse — though he refused to admit it even to himself — he’d started expecting it.
Started looking for her coat on the platform.
Started slowing slightly at the corner of his street because she’d probably say something ridiculous if he didn’t.
It made him angry.
At her. At himself. At how she’d dug into his routine like a cat who’d decided he was hers.
Tonight — after another cursed spirit, another endless meeting, another long day of pretending not to feel how heavy his chest was — he turned the corner home.
And there she was.
Sitting right on his doorstep.
Legs tucked to the side, humming softly to herself, breath fogging the air.
When she spotted him, her whole face lit up.
“Welcome back, darling!” she called, like she really believed this was her house he was coming home to.
That was it.
Something inside him — already stretched thin — snapped.
He stopped at the bottom of the stairs, eyes narrowing, jaw tight.
She tilted her head, resting her chin on her knees, looking at him as if she’d been waiting a lifetime.
He climbed one step, just enough to cast a shadow over her lap.
“You,” he began, voice low and sharp, “are exhausting.”
She looked up at him, completely unbothered. “You say that every day.”
“This isn’t normal,” he continued, stepping closer, words spilling faster now, sharpened by irritation.
“Following me. Showing up everywhere. Sitting here every night like some stray animal that refuses to leave.”
“I am leaving,” she corrected lightly. “My toothbrush is already upstairs.”
He froze — just for a fraction of a second — because, of course, she’d say something like that.
Deflect. Smile. Pretend this was harmless.
His brow twitched faintly.
“You really think you can pull this off?” he pressed, voice dropping colder — as if he could crush her resolve with enough force.
Her head tilted, eyes locked on his with infuriating calm.
“Yes,” she said.
No hesitation.
No shame.
No apology.
It was infuriating.
And worse — he couldn’t tell anymore if the tightness in his chest was irritation or something much more dangerous.
He stared at her for a long, quiet moment — long enough for her grin to falter before returning full force.
Then he exhaled, slow and sharp, adjusting his tie with unnecessary force.
“…Fine.”
Her eyes went wide. “…Fine?”
He stepped closer still — close enough that her head tipped back to keep his gaze — and murmured:
“If you want to play house that badly…”
His voice was quiet but heavy with warning.
“…Then prove it.”
Straightening again, he tugged at his sleeve, already regretting it — but refusing to take it back.
To his disbelief, she absolutely sparkled.
That grin could’ve powered half of Tokyo.
“Okay,” she breathed.
Then she clapped — sharp and triumphant — before lunging to her feet and grabbing his wrist.
“What—?”
“Okay!!” she said again, louder, already tugging him up the steps like she owned him.
“Let’s go!” she chirped brightly. “You’ve had such a long day — you look miserable — sit down and I’ll make you something warm, okay? Just leave it to me!”
He let himself be dragged forward — more from shock than willingness — watching her throw open his door like she’d paid the mortgage herself, already prattling about rice and miso and how spinach only tastes bitter when you don’t cook it with love.
He followed her in, loosening his tie, his brow still faintly furrowed — but for the first time, he didn’t stop her.
Because somewhere deep in his chest, something whispered:
I wonder what she’ll do next.
----
It became… a routine.
Every morning, just as he finished straightening his tie, she’d appear like a cheerful little spirit haunting his apartment — standing squarely between him and the door.
Blocking his exit.
Arms folded, head tilted, lips already puckered like it was law.
“Where’s my goodbye kiss, husband?”
He didn’t even look up from the mirror.
“I’m not your husband,” he muttered.
“Yet,” she quipped, matter-of-fact.
Sighing, he turned — and there she stood, tapping her cheek expectantly.
“I’m not kissing you,” he deadpanned.
“Then how will you have good luck at work?” she teased with a shrug, like this was common knowledge.
He stared at her flatly. “…I’ll take my chances.”
Her jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
“Unbelievable,” she huffed, stomping one slipper-clad foot. “You’ll regret this!”
“I already do,” he murmured dryly as he sidestepped her.
Behind him, her voice carried through the door:
“Tomorrow’s kiss better last longer or I’m filing for divorce!”
He pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered under his breath:
“…Why me?”
That afternoon, weary at his desk, he opened his briefcase to find the bento she’d packed — perfectly shaped rice balls, delicate eggs, crisp pickles.
And, of course, the note.
Eat up & stay strong today, husband. ♡ You’re loved more than you know.
He stared at it for a long beat.
Folded it. Slipped it into his breast pocket.
Then muttered — faint, but with the ghost of a smirk tugging at his mouth:
“…Ridiculous woman.”
----
Nanami had only just started to relax.
It had been a long day — overtime paperwork, a stubborn cursed spirit in Shinjuku, and yet another pointless, infuriating lecture from Gojo. At last, though, he was alone.
Steam curled thickly through the bathroom, carrying the cedarwood scent of his soap. He leaned back against the cool porcelain, eyes half-closed, letting the quiet settle over him like a blessing.
For thirty perfect seconds… silence.
Then — the faintest creak of the door.
His eyes opened immediately.
And there she was.
Standing in the doorway.
Wrapped — barely — in one of his towels, clutching it like it was her wedding gown, grinning down at him like she owned the building.
For the first time in years, Kento Nanami was visibly startled.
His shoulders stiffened, back ramrod straight, his eyes sweeping over her automatically — the towel clinging damply to her soft skin, faintly translucent where her wet hair had soaked through the fabric and left it plastered to her chest and thighs.
“…What—” His voice cracked before he caught himself and cleared his throat. “What are you—why are you—”
She only stepped closer, and he caught the way her fingers fidgeted at the corner of the towel — nervous, yes, but utterly undeterred.
“I’m helping,” she announced softly, but with that same maddening little smile, raising a folded washcloth like it was a contract.
He just… stared.
Far too long.
Then his jaw tightened faintly as he found his voice again.
“That’s completely unnecessary,” he managed, sitting up straighter.
“Nope,” she chirped, dropping to her knees on the bathmat outside the tub, already wringing the washcloth in her hands. “You’re not getting out of this bath until I’m done.”
“…This is absurd,” he muttered under his breath — but didn’t move. Not even when her hands — warm, deliberate — pressed the cloth against his back and began to work.
She moved slowly, her touch deceptively confident, smoothing over the taut muscle between his shoulders like she’d practiced this in her dreams a thousand times.
And maybe she had.
He hated how easy it was to let her.
The room was quiet at first, save for the water and the soft sound of her breath at his ear.
Then — low, almost conspiratorial — she murmured:
“You don’t remember saving me, do you?”
His body froze.
“…What?” His tone came out sharper than he intended, his head turning slightly toward her.
She only smiled faintly, still working her hands over his shoulders like nothing had changed.
“That night,” she explained gently. “Years ago. You killed a curse. Just… walked away like it was nothing.”
His gaze locked on hers now — and for once, his brow furrowed faintly, something unsettlingly close to regret flickering in his expression.
“…But it wasn’t nothing,” she added quietly. “Not to me.”
Her hands stilled, her eyes holding his for a heavy beat before she finished softly:
“That’s when I knew. I’d find you again. And when I did… I’d marry you.”
The words hung there in the steam — thick, humid, impossible to ignore.
Nanami exhaled slowly, his gaze dropping to the water like her confession weighed more than he’d expected.
“…You could’ve just,” he muttered at last, voice lower than usual, “…said thank you.”
She laughed lightly — warm, amused — leaning closer to kiss the crown of his head and whisper:
“Where’s the fun in that?”
For a fleeting moment, the corner of his mouth twitched upward.
And then —
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Both of them froze.
From beyond the door came that all-too-bright, infuriating voice:
“Nanami~! You home? Got that file you wanted!”
She blinked, already straightening, her towel hitching higher as she adjusted it, the faintest spark of curiosity lighting her eyes.
“Who’s that?” she asked, already stepping toward the hall.
“Don’t—” he barked, rising abruptly — but she was already gone, padding into the hallway with damp skin catching the light, the towel clinging stubbornly to her hips and thighs.
He swore under his breath, yanking his own towel around his waist as water sloshed loudly behind him.
Too late.
She opened the door — smiling shyly, confused but unfazed — and came face-to-face with Gojo Satoru.
He stopped dead, mid-grin, sunglasses sliding slightly down his nose as his eyes swept leisurely over her towel-clad form.
“Ohhh,” he said slowly, grin widening into something almost wolfish.
Her hands clutched the towel tighter as she ducked her head, mumbling, “…Hi.”
Gojo chuckled lowly, leaning one shoulder against the doorframe, his tone all teeth and amusement.
“Wow. Really cute. Wet, too. And here I thought Nanami didn’t have a type — but apparently…”
His gaze dropped — unapologetic, infuriating — and lingered.
“…he has excellent taste.”
She bit her lip, offering the tiniest, awkwardest smile while glancing to the side.
Then —
Nanami appeared.
Storming up behind her, towel slung low around his hips, chest still damp, hair mussed — and eyes sharp enough to cut stone.
Gojo’s grin only widened as he looked between them — her cheeks flushed and fingers knotted in her towel; him, visibly seething and looming like a thundercloud.
“Ohhh,” Gojo said knowingly, as though he’d just solved the world’s greatest mystery. “Now that explains everything.”
Nanami said nothing.
He simply stepped between them, shoulders squared, jaw tight, hand shooting out to snatch the file from Gojo’s fingers.
“Out,” he growled.
Gojo chuckled, eyes still sliding past him to her.
“Don’t be like that, Nanamin. I was just admiring your—”
“Out.”
This time, sharper, his body angled just enough to shield her completely.
Gojo raised his hands in mock surrender, but not before throwing her a wink.
“You’re adorable when you’re jealous,” he teased, voice sing-song as he backed away down the hall.
SLAM.
Silence.
Nanami’s hand lingered against the doorframe before he finally exhaled and turned to her.
She blinked up at him, still clutching her towel like a shield.
“…He seems… nice?” she offered timidly.
His gaze swept over her, taking in her damp skin, flushed cheeks, the nervous fidget of her fingers at the hem of the towel — and his lip curled faintly.
“…Unbelievable,” he muttered, though his hand settled briefly at the small of her back, smoothing the towel there as he steered her gently but firmly back toward the bathroom.
She caught it — the faint pink at the tips of his ears — even as he muttered darkly under his breath and shut the door behind them.
And for just a second, she could’ve sworn that quiet, simmering sound he made under his breath… sounded very much like a growl.
That night at dinner, she didn’t say anything.
Not at first.
But the next morning… she started.
It began with a soft little hum as she poured his coffee.
Then:
“Wow,” she murmured, eyes sparkling as she handed him the cup. “Really cute. Wet, too.”
He froze mid-sip, his gaze narrowing dangerously.
She grinned, already biting her lip to hold back her laugh.
When he ignored her and reached for his tie, she leaned against the counter and added airily:
“…And here I thought Nanami didn’t have a type.”
The tie slipped through his fingers.
And when he finally shot her a sharp glare, she just shrugged innocently.
Which, of course, only made her worse.
For the next week, she made sure he didn’t forget.
Every time she passed him in the hall, she’d drop her voice into that lazy drawl and murmur:
“Excellent taste…”
—just under her breath, just enough to make him stop in his tracks.
When she padded barefoot into the kitchen one evening, she even reenacted the scene entirely—stepping into the doorway, one of his towels draped low on her hips, hair still damp, a washcloth dangling from her fingers.
“I’m helping,” she said sweetly.
That earned her a low groan and a muttered curse from where he sat on the couch.
But even then—when she perched on the armrest next to him and leaned close to whisper “Wet, too…” against his ear—his hand still tightened on her waist, just a little harder than usual.
She noticed, of course.
She always noticed.
And she smirked to herself every time his fingers lingered too long at her back or his arm curved almost possessively around her shoulders.
Even as he sighed through his teeth and tried desperately to maintain his composure.
But she could feel it.
And so could he.
This woman is going to kill me, he thought darkly, as she sauntered past him in the kitchen one morning, still humming that infuriating little tune.
But even then…
Even then, his hand brushed her hip on her way by.
The next morning should’ve been simple.
Nanami adjusted his tie at the door, the morning light catching on the faint lines of his jaw.
She stood a few feet away, hands clasped behind her back, lips already puckered in that exaggerated way she thought was cute — daring him to roll his eyes and walk out like usual.
But today… he didn’t.
Instead, his gaze met hers — steady, unreadable — and then, quietly, he stepped close.
One big hand settled briefly on her elbow, the other still gripping his briefcase as he leaned down and pressed his lips to her cheek.
Warm. Deliberate.
“…Order lunch if you don’t feel like cooking,” he murmured, already turning toward the door.
She lingered in stunned silence long after he left, fingers grazing her cheek, a dazed little smile breaking across her face.
The morning passed in a haze — her humming as she cleaned, touching her cheek over and over like she could trap the warmth there.
Meanwhile, across town, Nanami sat at his desk — pen useless in his hand, jaw tight — replaying the startled way her eyes widened when he kissed her.
Until —
“…Nanami~”
The sing-song grated immediately.
“Out,” Nanami said flatly without looking up.
“Aww, that’s no way to treat someone bringing you a gift,” Gojo drawled, sauntering in and spinning a small black box in his hand before dropping it squarely on the desk.
“…What is this?”
“A stress reliever,” Gojo said brightly. “Since you clearly haven’t defiled that cute little thing on your arm yet.”
Nanami’s brow twitched.
“…Excuse me?”
Gojo only smirked.
“Come on. You’re so pent-up it’s painful. If you’re not going to handle her properly, at least handle yourself.”
Nanami opened the box reluctantly — and froze.
Flesh-toned. Silicone. Obscene.
He closed it with slow precision and pushed it back like it was toxic.
“…You are disgusting.”
“Don’t act like you don’t need it,” Gojo teased.
Nanami adjusted his glasses, voice calm but sharp:
“Satoru. If you ever hand me something like this again, I will break all ten of your fingers before you leave the room.”
Gojo grinned, unbothered.
“Aw, Nanami~ You’ll thank me later.”
“Out.”
Gojo finally sauntered out, whistling.
But as soon as the door shut, Nanami’s eyes fell to the little box — still sitting there — and his jaw tightened.
He shoved it into his briefcase — purely so no one else would see it, he told himself, but even as he snapped the latch shut, his jaw tightened at the memory of your soft cheek under his lips that morning.
And for the rest of the afternoon, his work never quite managed to hold his attention.
That night, when he opened the door, into a quiet apartment.
Too quiet.
No humming.
No teasing voice.
No warmth was waiting for him.
He hung his coat, set his briefcase down — and that’s when he saw it.
The little black box Gojo had left on the corner of the cabinet.
He scowled at it immediately, jaw tightening.
The idea that he, of all people, would ever need something so pathetic was insulting.
He’d told Gojo as much, hadn’t he?
He wasn’t some desperate fool who couldn’t control himself.
But then — his eyes fell to the couch again.
To the quiet kitchen.
To the empty hallway.
And against his better judgment, his mind wandered.
To her.
To her thighs bracketing his hips.
To her puckered lips, eyes half-lidded, expectant.
To her hands on his back, smoothing away the weight of the day.
His pride cracked first.
Then his restraint.
The door clicked shut behind him with a soft finality, the quiet of the apartment settling heavy around him as though even the walls knew what he was about to do. He stood there for a long moment, back still to the room, his shoulders rigid as he stared at nothing, listening to the faint tick of the clock above the bed and the sound of his shallow breath.
And then, inevitably, his gaze slid toward the nightstand, where that damned black box sat waiting for him.
Mocking him.
Small and neat and wrapped with that stupid silver ribbon — like Gojo had known exactly what kind of man he was and tied his weakness up in a bow just to prove a point.
Pathetic.
That’s what it was. That’s what he was.
And yet, despite himself, his fingers moved before his pride could catch up — loosening the knot of his tie, tugging it free in one smooth pull, letting it drop to the floor. The first two buttons of his shirt followed, then three, his hands working automatically, efficiently, as if he could pretend this was just another routine.
But it wasn’t.
By the time he lowered himself to sit at the edge of the bed, the air in the room felt thick, too warm, pressing at his skin, and his jaw was already tight as his fingers hovered over the box.
When he finally opened it, his breath left him in a sharp, quiet exhale.
Even now — even when he knew what he’d find — the sight of it there, obscene and gleaming in the low light, set his teeth on edge. Flesh-toned silicone, soft and slick and waiting for him like something sinful, like something he didn’t deserve.
He hated it.
And yet his hand closed around it anyway.
The first roll of his hips drew a sharp hiss through his teeth, the toy snug and hot around him, not her but too damn close to ignore. His head tipped back slightly, his eyes falling shut as his thighs tensed, his breath catching when he thrust forward again, harder now, his restraint already fraying.
And in his mind — as much as he despised himself for it — it wasn’t his hand anymore.
It was hers.
She was there, kneeling prettily between his legs, her hair falling loose around her shoulders, her lips stretched wide, flushed cheeks and wet lashes, her soft little hands bracing on his thighs as she looked up at him with that smile she always wore when she knew she’d won.
His breath broke raggedly out of him, his hips snapping forward, his free hand curling into the sheets to keep himself grounded as he growled low under his breath, voice hoarse and dark:
“You’d… love this, wouldn’t you?”
The words came sharp and low, unbidden, punctuated by the rhythmic slap of his hips meeting his fist as he thrust harder.
“On your knees…” — another groan tore free, guttural and strained — “…choking on it, smiling at me like that while you…”
The words dissolved into a quiet curse, his jaw clenching as the toy slicked noisily around him, obscene in the silence. He hated how good it felt — how easy it was to imagine her soft thighs pressing against his sides, her hips squirming in his lap as she moaned his name into the hollow of his throat.
“Look at you,” he gritted out, voice breaking slightly as his rhythm faltered for a moment before picking back up, faster now, harder. “Still calling me husband… still blushing like some innocent little girl… but letting me fuck the thought right out of your head anyway—”
Another rough sound escaped him, muffled against his sleeve as his hips jerked forward, his whole body bowstring-tight now, sweat sliding down the back of his neck. His grip on the toy was white-knuckled, his breath hot and uneven as he thrust faster, the slick heat of it milking him mercilessly.
“You’d thank me for it, wouldn’t you,” he snarled quietly, almost like it was a threat, his voice dropping darker as his head fell forward. “You’d beg me to ruin you — call yourself mine while I—”
The words splintered off into another groan, his rhythm turning punishing now, brutal, each snap of his hips shaking the bed faintly as he imagined her beneath him — soft and flushed, gasping his name, nails digging into his shoulders, her thighs shaking around his hips as she whispered that word she knew he hated. Still, she couldn’t resist: husband.
“Say it,” he ground out, low and dangerous, his voice raw now. “Say you’re mine… say you’re my wife while I fuck you through the mattress—”
His breath hitched again, sharp and uneven, his chest rising and falling fast, and he could feel himself teetering at the edge when his eyes — half-lidded, wild with the haze of it — drifted toward the door.
And froze.
Because she was standing there.
Framed in the doorway like a storm about to break — her eyes wide and furious, her chest heaving, her hands fisting at her sides.
She didn’t move.
Didn’t speak at first — just stared at him, her gaze sweeping over him, taking in the slick toy in his hand, the way his hips were still halfway through a thrust when he finally caught sight of her.
When her voice came, it was breathless, trembling with disbelief and something darker — sharp enough to cut through the heavy silence of the room:
“You—”
The toy slipped from his hand with a wet, obscene little pop as he stilled completely, hard and exposed and silent, his chest still rising and falling like he’d just been caught mid-crime.
And she just stood there, her lips parted faintly, her eyes blazing with something wild — anger, hurt, jealousy — her entire body vibrating with it.
For the first time all day — maybe all year — Kento Nanami didn’t know what the hell to say.
And looking at her now — at the furious little fire in her eyes, at the way her breath shuddered through her as she stared him down — he realized something else, something that made his pulse hammer harder, shame and desire tangling in his chest like barbed wire:
He kind of wanted her to come closer.
---
The apartment was too quiet.
When she stepped inside — arms full of grocery bags, cheeks still pink from the cold — she immediately noticed his shoes by the door.
Her heart jumped.
He’s home early?
Her stomach fluttered at the thought — silly, hopeful — and a soft, instinctive smile tugged at her lips as she toed off her boots and padded in.
“Kento?” she called, bright and warm, balancing the bags carefully on her hip. “I’m back! You won’t believe how busy the market was today — but I got your favorite miso and—”
Her words died in her throat.
She froze mid-step, her ears pricking to something faint.
A sound.
Low. Guttural. Muffled.
Her brows knitted faintly as she tilted her head, listening.
It wasn’t the television.
It wasn’t a phone call.
It was—
A sound she didn’t recognize.
And then words.
Low, rough, filthy words carried just faintly down the hall.
Guttural and harsh enough to make her cheeks bloom with heat even before she could make them out.
Her smile faltered, replaced by a tight pinch in her chest.
The grocery bags crinkled quietly as her fingers tightened around them — knuckles whitening — before she set them slowly on the counter.
Her chest rose and fell a little faster.
No shoes at the door… but what if he carried her? Another woman? In their home?
The thought alone sent a rush of hot, irrational jealousy burning through her veins.
It gripped her chest like claws, her pulse hammering in her ears as she moved.
Her feet quickened on instinct, silent and sharp, her weight balanced toward the balls of her feet as she padded down the hall — every step quiet but charged.
Her breath came faster now, her lips pressing together tight as her jaw locked, her ears straining—
“Take it,” his voice growled. “Call me your husband while I—”
Her stomach twisted violently.
The world tilted for a split second as fury ignited behind her ribs.
Her fingers curled into fists as her face burned — hot, sharp embarrassment tangled with a dark surge of possessiveness she didn’t even know she was capable of.
Her body moved before her mind caught up — shoving the bedroom door open with a force that rattled it on its hinges.
She was ready to catch him.
Ready to catch her.
Ready to tear them both apart if she had to—
But she stopped dead in the doorway.
It wasn’t another woman.
It was Nanami.
Sitting at the edge of the bed, shirt hanging open, tie loose and askew, his head tipped back in a way she’d never seen before — completely undone.
His lips parted around a harsh groan as his hips rolled lazily upward, thrusting into—
Her breath caught audibly in her chest.
In his hand was a fleshlight — slick, obscene — gripped in his big fist as he thrust into it slowly and deliberately.
His brows furrowed, jaw tight as he let out another low groan — deep and rough — muttering something filthy under his breath.
“…Blush when you take me… thank me while I ruin you—”
The words died on his lips as his gaze — heavy-lidded and dark — finally lifted and locked on her.
For a long, tense heartbeat, the world was still.
His chest rose and fell sharply, his knuckles tightening faintly around the toy.
Her wide, furious eyes glimmered under the low bedroom light — her face burning, hands trembling faintly at her sides.
The air between them was thick, heavy, unbreathable — her disbelief mingling with rage, with shame, with something darker she couldn’t even name yet.
And then it boiled over.
“You—!”
Her hands were already trembling when she let go of the doorframe and stormed into the room — fury blotting out everything else, swallowing her shock and shame in one hot, searing wave.
“You—” her voice cracked on the first syllable, but it didn’t matter because the rest came out as a full-throated yell — “YOU—!”
He froze when she advanced, his eyes snapping up to meet hers. There was a flicker of surprise there — wide and unguarded — but still not nearly as flustered as he should have been, not with what she had just caught him doing.
“Wait—” he started, voice low and even, but she was already moving.
Her fingers closed around the nearest pillow, and she hurled it at him with every ounce of strength she had, straight into his chest.
“WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?!”
The obscene little toy slipped from his hand with a slick, lewd pop, bouncing harmlessly onto the sheets as he sat upright, caught but still maddeningly composed.
“You have me—” (another pillow slammed into his shoulder) “—right here—” (smack) “—every damn day—” (smack) “—and THIS is what you’re doing?!”
“I wasn’t—” he began again, ducking slightly to avoid her next wild swing — and she saw it this time, the faint, dangerous twitch of his mouth upward like he enjoyed watching her fury.
“You weren’t what?!” she snapped, breath coming fast and hot now, cheeks blazing as she grabbed his loosened tie in both fists, yanking him forward and shoving it hard against his chest.
“Thinking about someone else?!”
“No.”
“DON’T EVEN—!” she shrieked, pounding her fists pathetically against the solid wall of his shoulder as he sat there, jaw tight but otherwise calm — letting her exhaust herself.
“I’m right here!” she yelled, voice cracking at the edges now. “I’m right here, and you’re moaning like that for some pathetic little toy?! That thing — that thing — is FORBIDDEN. BANNED. OUT of this house!”
Her breath came in sharp bursts now, her chest heaving as her words finally faltered.
When she shoved herself back, trying to put space between them, her anger still sputtering in muttered curses under her breath, she turned for the door and spat:
“I’m leaving. You can keep your stupid—”
But she never made it.
The door slammed shut with a single, forceful motion, his big palm flat against the wood just above her head.
Her breath caught instantly when she felt him at her back — his heat, his size, his scent — filling the space around her until she felt pinned in place by nothing more than his presence.
“Enough,” he said, quiet but cutting.
She froze under his hand, though her fists stayed balled at her sides, knuckles white.
“You’re misunderstanding,” he murmured low against her ear, steady but sharp enough to stop her next retort before it formed.
“Oh, am I?” she managed anyway, though her voice faltered when his chest brushed fully against her back, pressing her faintly into the door.
“I wasn’t thinking about anyone else,” he said flatly.
Her laugh — sharp and bitter — cracked on her lips. “Then why—”
“Because,” he cut her off, leaning in close enough that his breath fanned hot over the sensitive skin of her neck.
“Because you’ve already gotten under my skin.”
Her lips parted faintly, the heat rushing down her spine drowning the last of her anger.
“I was trying,” he continued, every word deliberate now, heavier than the last, “to get you out of my head. To stop thinking about how you’d look… how you’d sound… how you’d feel calling me your husband.”
Her stomach flipped. The sound that left her throat then wasn’t quite a laugh and not quite a whimper — just soft, helpless, her cheeks blazing as her chest rose and fell quick and shallow.
“…Dummy,” she whispered weakly, almost to herself — the smallest, most pitiful little insult she could muster now.
That stopped him — just for a beat.
Then a faint smirk curved his lips, dark and quiet, sending something molten straight through her.
“Yes,” he murmured, his eyes dragging over her flushed face, the sharp line of his jaw tightening.
“Yes, I am.”
Then, before she could draw another breath, his arm slid clean under her thighs — lifting her entirely off the ground, making her gasp.
“K-Kento—!” she yelped as he caught the back of her sweater with his other hand and slung her over his shoulder like she weighed nothing.
“Stop fussing,” he said curtly, already striding back toward the bed.
“You can’t just—!”
“Too late.”
Her fists pounded uselessly at his back once, twice, before going slack, her breath hitching raggedly as her body betrayed her — trembling already at how easily he carried her.
When he set her down again, she stayed sitting — trying to stay angry, but failing spectacularly.
One hand came to rest faintly over her chest, where her heartbeat fluttered wildly, while the other clutched the pillow near her lap — fingers flexing around it like she couldn’t decide whether to hurl it at him or shield herself with it.
Her eyes — still hot and glinting — refused to look away from him. There was anger there — bright and sharp — but tangled now with something heavier, something she dared not name aloud.
When he finally reached down, fingers brushing over hers, he tugged the pillow smoothly from her grip and let it fall to the floor, leaving her completely bare to his gaze.
Her breath caught — sharp and quick — her chest rising high as her knuckles curled faintly at her collar.
And he just looked at her — quiet, dark, unyielding — before leaning close enough for her to feel the heat of him ghosting over her cheek when he murmured:
“That’s what I thought.”
The look in his eyes left no room for doubt.
He already knew exactly how this would end.
The smallest, weakest sound caught in her throat — somewhere between a gasp and a whimper — her sharp little glare faltering as heat churned low in her belly.
Then he moved.
And her mouth went dry.
First came his tie, tugged loose in a single smooth motion, the knot giving way beneath his fingers before the length of silk fell to the floor behind him.
Her eyes followed it down before darting back up to him instinctively — cheeks hot, hand still pressed to her collarbone as though she could keep herself grounded.
But he was already reaching for his cuffs.
One, then the other — fingers methodical as he worked each button free, the faint metallic clink of his cufflinks striking the nightstand.
Her breath caught when the fabric of his sleeves slumped loose against his forearms — his hands tugging it slowly and deliberately until the entire shirt slipped off his shoulders and pooled at his feet.
Her stomach fluttered violently at the sight of him revealed fully above her now — the hard, sculpted breadth of his chest and shoulders, thick muscle running into a long line of ridged abs, all sheened faintly with the kind of restrained heat that spoke of control about to snap.
Her gaze lingered — lower now — on the faint trail of gold dusting his navel, darkening as it cut downward toward his waistband.
She swallowed hard, thighs pressing faintly together.
He caught that.
Of course he did.
And his smirk deepened.
His hands moved to his belt — unfastening it with a sharp, metallic clink, the leather hissing free through the loops before he let it fall.
Then he stood tall again and — deliberately — his fingers caught the clasp of his trousers, dragging them down his hips slow enough to make her stomach knot.
Her breath hitched audibly when both slacks and briefs slid together to the floor.
And when he straightened to his full height — fully bared before her, all sharp lines and raw heat — her eyes darted down despite herself.
And she froze.
There was no way to prepare for that.
Thick. Heavy. Proud.
His cock stood against his stomach, flushed deep at the tip, a single bead of slick already glinting in the low light.
Her lips parted faintly as her hand flew to her mouth — muffling the smallest, softest whimper as she stared helplessly.
His length twitched faintly as though in response to her attention — and her thighs squeezed tight enough for her hips to lift faintly against the mattress.
His smirk darkened at the sight, his fingers brushing slowly down his stomach to the base of himself, curling there as though to wordlessly remind her exactly how much waited for her.
Then he moved.
Stepped forward — between her knees — his palms finding the soft curve of her thighs as he guided them open, heat and strength slotting neatly between them.
Her breath hitched when one of his hands slid up, curling under her knee to drag it over his hip — her body opening for him with a soft gasp.
And then he pressed.
Not just his hips — him — thick and hot and solid, nestling snugly between her thighs, pressing down against the soaked cotton clinging to her puffy, slick folds.
The faint drag of him over her center made her whole body jolt faintly — a helpless, high sound slipping from her throat as he rolled himself again.
His weight bore her deeper into the mattress as he let her feel every inch of him through the damp barrier — letting her register just how badly the thin fabric failed to shield her from him.
“…You’re big…”
The words slipped out soft and incredulous — her cheeks blazing as she realized she’d actually said it aloud.
That earned her a quiet, cruel laugh — low in his throat — as his lips descended to her jaw, open and warm as his teeth scraped along the delicate skin there.
“You’re just noticing that now?”
He shifted his hips again, deliberately slow, grinding himself into her covered heat just enough to make her back arch slightly against him.
“Too late to be shy about it, isn’t it?”
Her fingers clung to his shoulders helplessly as he repeated the motion — his cock dragging firmly over the soaked fabric, each subtle press making the cotton cling tighter, the shape of her folds pronounced under the weight of him.
When he caught her whimpering softly into his shoulder, his mouth found hers again — open and hot, claiming her lips and stealing the air from her lungs.
And as she clung to him, her legs instinctively tightening around his waist, her hips lifting faintly into the rhythm of his slow grind, all she could think — all she could feel — was how much more she already craved.
Even as she pretended she wasn’t already surrendering.
And he knew.
Of course he did.
The way his hands tightened faintly on her thighs, the way his cock dragged again over her slick panties, the way his lips curled faintly against her jaw before he bit down softly — all of it told her he already knew how it would end.
And she hated — and loved — that she already did too.
The heat between them now was unbearable, pressing down in the silence of the room.
Her breath was a shallow thing, catching every time his eyes dragged over her. Her fingers flexed faintly where they still rested against her chest, her thighs instinctively squeezing as he leaned over her — close enough to feel his warmth radiating, close enough to count the faint golden strands of his hair where they fell across his forehead.
Then he moved — leaned down — his nose brushed her cheek before his mouth claimed hers.
Not soft.
Not gentle.
Hot and consuming, stealing her breath as his weight pressed her deeper into the mattress.
She gasped against him — but his mouth swallowed the sound, his tongue parting her lips without hesitation, kissing her like she’d already said yes.
Her hands clung to his shoulders at first, then slid higher into his hair when he deepened it — open-mouthed and sensual, almost punishing in the way his teeth grazed her bottom lip, in the way his hips shifted and his cock dragged thickly over the wet fabric stretched between her thighs.
When he finally broke the kiss to breathe, she hardly noticed — because his mouth was already at her jaw. Hot, open-mouthed kisses marked her there. Then her ear. Then down the side of her neck — his tongue teasing, his teeth catching softly until she let out a shuddering little whimper, clutching the back of his neck.
“You like that?” he murmured against her skin, though he didn’t wait for an answer — his lips already dragging lower.
Her back arched before she even realized what he was doing — her chest rising toward him instinctively when he slid one big hand under her blouse and pushed it upward. His other hand deftly unhooked her bra, and then her blouse and bra straps were shoved aside all at once, leaving her breasts bare beneath him.
He stilled just enough to look — dark eyes sweeping over the soft, heavy swell of them, the way they rose and fell under her shallow, quick breaths.
“Beautiful,” he muttered low — almost to himself — and then his hands closed over them fully.
She gasped.
His palms were hot and broad, kneading the soft weight of her breasts firmly enough to make her breath catch, his thumbs brushing and circling her nipples until they peaked hard under his touch.
“You feel this?” he asked quietly, his thumbs flicking over her nipples again as her fingers tangled tighter in his hair.
She bit her lip and nodded — though when he lowered his mouth to her chest and closed his lips around one nipple, she cried out.
He groaned softly at that — the sound vibrating against her skin as his tongue flicked and sucked, teeth grazing lightly until her hips shifted beneath him.
Her hands slid into his hair and pulled.
Hard.
And he laughed against her breast — low and dark — before latching again, more intent this time, his fingers digging into the plump sides of her breasts as though he owned them already.
When he moved to the other, he bit softly first, then soothed the sting with his tongue, the slick sound of his mouth on her sending heat rushing straight to her core.
“That’s it,” he murmured against her skin. “Hold on to me. You wanted to prove a point — go ahead. Show me.”
And she could only clutch his hair tighter, her back arching helplessly when he sucked hard enough to leave faint bruises blooming across the soft, chubby curves of her breasts.
Her breath came in hot little gasps now, her hips rocking faintly of their own accord, her thighs squeezing around him.
And all the while his thick length pressed maddeningly against her still-clothed sex — deliberate and unhurried, letting her feel just how much of him she’d already invited in.
When he finally lifted his head, her skin glistened faintly where his mouth had been, marked and sensitive, her nipples hard and wet from his attention.
He looked down at her like that — flushed and breathless, her breasts rising and falling, her fingers still tangled in his hair — and his smirk deepened faintly.
“You’re going to ruin me,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss her again — hot and unrelenting, his hands sliding lower to hook beneath her thighs.
And she clung to him like she believed it, too.
It wasn’t until her palm hit the sheets that she realized she was crawling away.
Her body moved before her mind caught up — hips shifting, knees digging into the mattress as she scrambled weakly toward the edge of the bed, murmuring breathlessly,
“…I… I should start dinner—”
Pathetic. But it was the only excuse her fevered brain could come up with as she tried, futilely, to escape the weight of him behind her.
She didn’t even make it halfway.
A firm hand closed around her ankle like a cuff — and the next thing she knew, she was being dragged back across the sheets, gasping softly as the air left her chest.
“Dinner?” he repeated flatly, almost a scoff — as though the word itself offended him.
Before she could look over her shoulder, he was already on her again — his body covering hers, his presence swallowing her whole as he pinned her in place.
One large palm flattened against her lower back, holding her down as the other slid up the length of her spine.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
The words rumbled low above her ear, sending a shiver down her back.
“Kento—” she breathed, faint and shaky — but it dissolved instantly when he leaned in, lips grazing her temple as he growled again:
“No.”
The single syllable silenced her completely — left her shivering under him as his hands moved deliberately to her hips, peeling her skirt away in one smooth motion.
Her hands flew instinctively to the waistband of her panties, but he simply caught her wrists, pried them away, and hooked his thumbs into the elastic himself.
And with one decisive pull — rip.
The fabric tore clean in his hands, the sharp sound making her stomach flip as the ruined scrap of cotton fluttered to the floor somewhere behind him.
Then just as her breath caught in her throat, he shifted his weight off her enough to reach for the nightstand.
She froze, wide-eyed, as she watched him pull open the drawer and retrieve the foil packet.
Her cheeks burned, her thighs pressing together involuntarily, but she couldn’t look away.
Not even when he tore it open with his teeth.
Not even when he held her gaze while slowly — almost languidly — rolling the thin latex down over himself, his broad fingers working with quiet precision as the heavy length of him stood proud in his hand.
It was obscene the way he didn’t rush. The way he never once broke eye contact, like he dared her to look away first.
Her pulse thundered in her ears.
Something hot and helpless unspooled low in her belly as she felt her thighs loosen without her even thinking, knees falling further apart as if her body already understood.
When he reached the base of himself, his movements slowed, adjusting the condom with two fingers, pulling it snug.
Then he spoke voice a low, dark, unhurried — his eyes heavy-lidded as they swept down her body and back up again:
“That’s right,” he murmured darkly, his tone so calm it cut her deeper than a growl.
“Stay still. Watch. You try to run again, I’ll just drag you back — every time.”
The words sank into her like hot iron — her breath catching, her hands moving instinctively to her thighs as she held herself open for him without thinking.
The smallest whimper escaped when his dark gaze swept over her one more time — her bare folds exposed beneath him, slick and glistening, her whole body trembling as though she were offering herself up completely.
“Good girl,” he murmured finally — low and approving — his hands replacing hers to keep her steady as he leaned closer, his nose brushing her cheek, his lips grazing her ear.
“Now… no more running.”
At first, it was quiet — quiet but unbearable.
The weight of him above her, his broad body pressing her into the mattress, the slow, deliberate way his hips began to move.
Not just claiming her — but making her feel it everywhere.
Her chubby thighs framed his hips perfectly, trembling faintly where he held them open, his fingers hooked behind her knees to keep her spread wide like he wanted.
Her breath came hot and shaky, her face flushed to her hairline, her wide, tear-bright eyes locked on his like she couldn’t look away.
Nanami didn’t rush.
He just stared down at her — quiet but smoldering — drinking in her fully bared figure: the way her breasts rose and fell fast, how her soft middle quivered faintly, the way her thick thighs and plush hips cushioned and framed him perfectly, already slick and ready for him.
A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he adjusted his hold on her knees, his voice dropping to a dark rasp.
“Good girl… keep them open just like that. Don’t you dare close them now.”
Her breath hitched at the command, her knuckles whitening where she gripped her legs — and she nodded faintly, obedient but trembling.
He pressed forward then, thick and deliberate, the heat of him undeniable even through the latex.
Her gasp cracked into a helpless little cry as he stretched her open in one relentless, steady push — and it hit them both, hard.
Her greedy walls fluttered and clung to him instantly, wet and tight, her slick already glistening where it clung down to the base of his cock, soaking the dark hair at his pelvis.
“…Hm,” he growled low, jaw tight as he bottomed out, savoring the way she gripped him.
“You feel better than I even imagined. And tighter.”
She clung to his shoulders now, her thighs trembling around his hips as her voice cracked into a sob.
“…So full—”
He chuckled darkly, his teeth flashing faintly as his hips rolled back just far enough to drag himself through her and press in again, making her gasp and clutch harder.
“Mm. And greedy, too,” he murmured against her cheek, breath hot.
“Look at you… squeezing like you’re afraid I’ll leave you empty.”
Her nails dug into him as he picked up his rhythm — still slow, but deeper now, the slick clapping of their bodies filling the room, his weight bearing her down into the sheets as her soft body quivered and bounced under him.
“Look at you,” he muttered, eyes raking over her flushed, yielding body — her breasts swaying faintly, her thick thighs jiggling slightly each time his hips pressed forward.
“All this soft flesh… taking me so well. My sweet little wife.”
“…Yes—” she whimpered faintly, voice breaking as her legs locked higher around his waist.
“Yours—your wife…”
That cracked something in him.
“That’s right,” he growled, dark and reverent as he ground deeper, feeling her walls clutch greedily, slick smearing down to his thighs.
“That’s exactly what you wanted. For me to ruin you. For me to make sure you couldn’t even think about anyone else.”
She sobbed softly into his neck, her lips brushing his skin as his pace deepened and quickened, each thrust wet and punishing but worshipful, her cunt milking him shamelessly, slicking more with every stroke.
Her soft belly rippled beneath his chest, her body already trembling as her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as though she couldn’t stand even an inch of space between them.
“Kento—” she gasped suddenly, breathless, desperate.
“I— I’m close—”
That stopped him cold.
His hand caught her jaw, tilting her face to his as his hips stilled deep inside her.
“Don’t you dare fall apart without me,” he growled against her ear — so sharp, so cold her heart stopped.
“Stay with me. Do you understand?”
Her sex-dazed eyes blinked up at him, unfocused, her voice just a faint whimper.
“…Y-yes…”
“Good girl,” he murmured, darkly satisfied — before sliding his hand between them, his thumb circling her clit with cruel precision as he began to thrust again.
Her whole body seized around him almost immediately — her walls fluttering and locking down tight on his cock as she sobbed and came undone beneath him, trembling and crying out against his neck, slick gushing down to the base and leaving both of them a mess.
For one fragile moment, she thought he’d kiss her. Thought he’d soothe her.
Instead, his lips dragged over her ear, dark and dangerous, and his hips never slowed.
“What the fuck did I just say?” he growled — sharp enough to make her flinch.
She clung harder to him, her nails scratching at his shoulders, her voice breaking.
“…I’m sorry—”
“Sorry?” His teeth scraped along her jaw as his hips slammed forward harder now — each thrust punishing, deliberate.
“You disobey me, fall apart all over my cock without my permission, and all you have for me is sorry?”
Her hands scrambled to cling to him, but he snatched her wrists, pinning them above her head as his pace grew devastating, wet and sharp.
“You’ll make it up to me,” he muttered darkly.
“Don’t think I’ll forget. Keep your hands where I can see them. You don’t touch yourself again until I say so. Do you understand?”
“…Yes—” she wept faintly, her soft body slick and trembling beneath him, her cunt still milking his cock desperately despite the reprimand.
“That’s it. Good girl,” he rasped low, his voice dark but satisfied as he ground into her, hips snapping harder, sweat dripping from his hair onto her flushed skin.
“Now behave — and stay that way.”
And then he took her face in his hands, tilting her chin toward him, and kissed her.
Dark.
Hungry.
Sensual and claiming as though every ounce of passion he’d restrained now broke loose.
Her body clung to him instinctively, unable to stop, her hips still meeting his helplessly — and she swore she could taste the quiet, restrained fury in the kiss, feel the way his body bore her down into the sheets, hear his breath sharp against hers as he ruined her with every stroke.
And she knew this wasn’t over yet.
She was still catching her breath when his hands slid down to her hips, firm and unrelenting.
For a moment, he just looked at her — her flushed, chubby body slick with sweat, her lashes fluttering, her greedy little cunt still clenching around him, unwilling to let him go even after everything he’d already given her.
That sight alone made something deep in his chest twist — dark and possessive — and his fingers tightened around her hips, dragging her back until she gasped.
“Turn over.”
She froze at first, dazed — her eyes wide, breath still uneven — but his hands moved her for her, gripping her plush hips and flipping her over onto her stomach with one smooth motion.
Her soft cheek pressed into the pillow as she whimpered faintly, her knees catching on the sheets before he tugged them apart, dragging her hips up until she was on her hands and knees.
“That’s better,” he muttered, his hands sliding up the slope of her back, fingers splaying over her shoulder blades before drifting back down to cup her ass. “Stay there.”
The warning was quiet but sharp. And she obeyed — trembling faintly, fingers gripping the sheets as he knelt behind her, his palm smoothing up the curve of her back, then smoothing over her fat ass before landing a sharp slap that made her jump.
“You don’t listen,” he murmured darkly, almost to himself, as his palm smoothed over the sting he’d just left.
“You’re greedy. Always clinging. Always falling apart before I tell you to.”
Her thighs squeezed faintly as he lined himself back up — his thick cock slipping between her soaked folds, collecting her slick before he pressed in again, deep and devastating.
She choked on a sob as he bottomed out once more — the angle letting him reach even deeper, his hips grinding into her ass as her body rocked forward helplessly under the force.
“Listen to that,” he murmured against her shoulder, his hips snapping forward hard enough to make her moan. “Dripping down my cock already. You really don’t care how you look, do you? Bent over like this… begging for it.”
And she was — her body meeting his every thrust now, her soft flesh bouncing back against him as the wet sounds of their joining filled the room.
But when he slowed just enough to catch his breath — the obscene clench of her cunt still fluttering greedily around him — her voice broke the silence in a breathless, cracked whisper:
“…Want to… wanna be your wife — your… wife and — mommy—”
He froze mid-thrust.
Her words hung there, raw and unrestrained, as she let them spill between desperate gasps:
“Give me your… give me your babies — make me yours — ‘ll stay here — cook — clean — love you — keep you happy —”
Her hips rocked back against him eagerly now, driving him deeper inside as though to prove her point, her plush ass slapping back to meet his hips as slick smeared down his thighs.
His jaw flexed tight, his breath hot as he stared down at the sight of her fucking herself onto him like a woman possessed.
“…Goddamn,” he muttered under his breath, stunned — though his cock twitched hard inside her, betraying how those filthy words hit him anyway.
For a long moment, he just watched — and then his lips curled into something dark, dangerous, and quietly amused.
“Listen to yourself,” he muttered, his voice low and sharp even as he kept thrusting into her, steady and brutal. “Begging to be my wife. To carry my kids. You even hear the filth coming out of your mouth?”
Her nails dug into the sheets, her breath catching — but she couldn’t stop herself. Couldn’t stop the way her hips bucked up, chasing every devastating grind of his body against hers.
“You really are insane,” he murmured, leaning down, letting his teeth graze her ear. “Think you’d make a good little housewife? Hm? Cooking dinner for me, all sweet while your greedy cunt still leaks from the night before?”
She whined high in her throat — nodding against the sheets, her fingers fisting them tight.
“Yes—yes, please—”
Her response was choked, desperate, broken — her walls fluttering wildly around him as she trembled.
“Already cock-drunk. Still begging. Still calling yourself my wife like it’s a title you’ve earned.”
Her mouth fell open, words breaking into breathless nonsense as she rocked back against him desperately.
“And you love it,” he growled, pulling her head back just slightly, his teeth grazing the shell of her ear.
“You love being ruined like this. You’d let me keep you here forever, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes—please—always—”
He chuckled low at that — cruel but faintly fond — his teeth dragging along her jaw before he leaned down to murmur hot against her ear:
“That’s exactly why,” he said, thrusting in deep and grinding his hips flush, “I have this on.”
His free hand snapped down to the base of the condom, adjusting it with quiet, mocking precision as he kept himself buried to the hilt.
“To keep my crazy little wife from going completely feral.”
Her body shivered helplessly at that, her cunt clenching even tighter.
“Please—please—I’m close—” she cried out suddenly, her voice breaking.
He chuckled low — dangerous — and leaned down to murmur, teeth grazing her ear:
“You don’t get to finish first this time. You earn it. You hold it — until I take it from you myself.”
And with that, his hips snapped harder, relentless, brutal — forcing her to feel every inch of him pounding into her, his hands gripping her hips so tight she’d wear his marks for days.
Her thighs trembled violently beneath him, but she did what she could — gasping his name, clinging to the sheets — until finally he hissed through his teeth:
“Now—spread yourself. Let me see you when you fall apart.”
And she obeyed without thinking — her shaky hands reaching back, fingers digging into the swell of her own soft cheeks, spreading herself wide as his cock slammed deep into her, filling her entirely.
“Good girl,” he groaned as his own control frayed, his hips grinding deeper, faster.
“Look at you — holding yourself open like you want the whole world to see you take it.”
Her walls fluttered violently around him at his words, her body utterly undone — until her orgasm tore through her with a sob, her legs locking up tight even as her hands kept her spread for him.
He didn’t stop.
And with a final, guttural growl, he came with her, his jaw tight, his breath hissing through his teeth as he slammed into the hilt and stilled, his thick cock twitching deep inside her.
The condom swelled hot and full at the base where their bodies met, the wrapper tight around him as she spread her thighs wider for him instinctively, clinging to him and crying softly against his chest as they both rode the high down together.
His breath was warm and ragged against her neck, a quiet groan slipping free as he held himself there — letting her feel all of him while her body slowly went slack beneath him.
But when he finally leaned back to look at her — really look — he froze.
Her nose was bleeding.
Just a faint, thin line of red slipping down over her lip as she blinked up at him with a dazed, utterly spent little smile.
“…Seriously?” he murmured dryly, though his thumb was already there, swiping the blood away before she could even register it.
Her cheeks heated instantly, and she tried to mumble something — anything — about being fine, but her voice barely worked.
His lips quirked faintly as he studied her — still spread, still clinging to him, her face flushed and shining with sweat and tears and now a little streak of blood.
“You’re lucky,” he muttered darkly, leaning in close enough that his breath brushed her cheek,
“That I like insane women.”
His thumb brushed under her nose once more before wiping it carelessly on the sheets.
“One of these days,” he added, almost to himself,
“You’re going to pass out just from looking at me, aren’t you?”
Her weak, breathless laugh cracked as she tried to bury her face in his chest — but he caught her chin instead, smirking faintly down at her ruined little smile.
Aftercare came in quiet, deliberate motions — his hands smoothing down her back as he carefully withdrew, disposing of the condom before returning to her.
He eased her up the bed and tucked the blanket over both of them, settling on his back and pulling her onto his chest like she belonged there.
Her fingers curled weakly into his shirt — the one he’d never actually put back on — and she hid her face in his neck, her whole body still trembling faintly.
“…Still think you’re fit to cook dinner like this?” he murmured, his voice low but carrying just the faintest trace of humor.
She shook her head mutely, and he chuckled softly under his breath — a rare sound that made her chest ache with something warm and helpless.
“That’s what I thought,” he said simply, his lips pressing lightly to her temple.
For a while, the room was quiet except for her soft, uneven breaths and the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath her cheek.
But then he spoke again — voice lower this time, teasing but almost fond:
“Darling,” he muttered, shaking his head faintly as his palm smoothed down over her hip.
“You’re going to tell the whole neighborhood about this, aren’t you?”
She let out a faint little laugh, already half-asleep, her lips pressing against his collarbone as she whispered:
“…Of course. They should know… my husband’s perfect.”
That earned a quiet huff from him — but the way his arm tightened just slightly around her, pulling her closer, said more than words ever could.
And when his hand drifted up to cradle the back of her head, his thumb brushing lazily through her hair, he murmured just loud enough for her to hear:
“…You really are insufferable.”
But his lips pressed to her forehead anyway — soft and lingering — and he didn’t let her go for the rest of the night.
Bonus:
Within a few months, Nanami’s life changed.
Not that he would have admitted it in so many words — but he felt it every morning when he woke up to her curled against him, every evening when he came home to her voice humming in the kitchen.
He had proposed to her (although reluctantly, in his own quiet way) after that infamous night when she finally, entirely, claimed him.
And she? She became ten times worse.
She wore the ring like a crown, flashing it at cashiers, delivery boys, and neighbors.
“My husband picked it himself,” she would say dreamily, twirling it under the light. “Isn’t he perfect?”
And no matter how many times Nanami corrected her —
“We’re not married yet,”
—She only grinned wider and continued anyway.
The photos were worse. She showed them to everyone.
He still remembered the day she stopped by the school, her bento in hand, already showing her phone to Shoko and Gojo.
“Look how gorgeous he is when he’s sleeping,” she sighed.
Nanami’s stomach sank when he saw which one it was — sprawled on the couch, tied loose, her reflection smirking in the glass.
Then she swiped again.
“And here,” she said cheerfully.
This one was him shirtless in the kitchen at sunrise, hair still damp from the shower, coffee mug in hand.
Nanami’s jaw tightened.
“Delete that.”
She tucked the phone behind her back with that infuriatingly sweet smile.
“Nope.”
“Delete it.”
“Absolutely not.”
By the time he cornered her lightly against the wall, trying to wrestle the phone away, she was breathless with laughter and kissed his cheek just to distract him.
“You’re insufferable,” he growled.
“But you love me,” she whispered back.
And she was right.
He told himself every day that he hadn’t meant to indulge her this much.
But something about her — her maddening persistence, her warmth, her sharp little mouth calling him husband around everyone like it was already law — had worn him down.
No, not worn him down. She’d wrapped herself into his life, into his home, into his chest, until removing her would feel less like untangling and more like amputation.
And so he let her win.
Not explicitly. Not with words.
But when it came to her, she always found a way.
Then came the Gojo incident.
Nanami should have let it go. He knew that.
But no — a few days later, he stopped in front of Gojo anyway, arms crossed, jaw tight, glasses glinting.
Gojo stood there as though waiting for him, leaning lazily on the railing in his dark blue zip-up jacket with its high collar, slim black trousers neat as ever, a simple black blindfold obscuring his eyes but not the smug grin on his lips.
“Well, well,” Gojo drawled, slipping his sunglasses into his hair just to be more irritating. “My favorite husband-to-be. You’re welcome, by the way.”
Nanami exhaled slowly.
“We need to talk.”
“Oh? About how much you enjoyed the little gift I picked out?”
Nanami’s jaw flexed.
“I didn’t enjoy it.”
“Mm. Then why so tense? Something happened?”
Gojo’s smirk widened when Nanami didn’t answer.
“…Oh-ho. She caught you, didn’t she?”
Nanami adjusted his tie.
“…Yes.”
Gojo chuckled darkly.
“Ohhh, brutal. What’d she do? Scream? Cry? Throw things?”
“Oh no no, don’t clam up now,” Gojo cajoled. “What’d she make you do?”
Nanami’s brow twitched faintly, his mind unwillingly flashing back: her standing there in her robe, arms crossed, eyes blazing, firelight in the kitchen sink as he recited her words and torched the damn thing while she glared at him into submission.
When his gaze snapped back, Gojo was grinning ear to ear.
“Oh, it’s exactly what I think, isn’t it? She made you say something while it burned.”
“…I’m leaving,” Nanami muttered.
“Oh, come on!” Gojo called after him. “Well, for next time, just let me get you a proper present instead of something sinful, yeah?”
That stopped Nanami mid-step. He turned just enough to mutter dryly:
“You gave me the damn thing.”
Gojo only grinned wider.
“Ah, but you used it.”
Nanami stared him down a beat longer, then turned on his heel with a quiet:
“…Insufferable bastard.”
“Tell her I said hi!” Gojo’s laughter followed him all the way down the hall.
Nanami made a mental note to repay him someday.
That evening, Nanami came home late.
Overworked. Tense. Exhausted.
His briefcase felt heavier than usual.
He quietly opened the door, hoping to just take a hot bath and collapse — but there she was already, standing in the middle of the room, wrapped in one of his shirts and nothing else, arms crossed, lips pursed.
“You’re late,” she said.
“I—” he began, but she was already stepping closer, her hips swaying as she dropped to her knees.
“…I missed you,” she murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she undid his belt.
“Wait—” he tried weakly, his pulse quickening as she freed him from his slacks.
“I’ve been sweating all day,” he said feebly, but she only leaned in and licked the flushed tip of him like it didn’t matter.
“Mm,” she hummed, lips curling faintly as she glanced up through her lashes. “Better. You'll taste even more like my husband. Just the way I like it.”
God help him, he tried to keep his hands at his sides — but the second she took him deeper, her warm mouth wet and wicked around him, he couldn’t help but fist her hair and mutter her name under his breath.
When she pulled back just enough to kiss his tip with a soft, obscene sound, she murmured:
“You’ll never need anything else. Not when you have me.”
“You—” he groaned lowly, though she cut him off with another long, slow drag of her tongue down his length before sucking him in again.
Her hand stroked him at the base as her mouth teased lower, warm and wet around him, and when she finally drew back completely — slick and breathless—she whispered:
“You’re mine. Don’t forget it.”
Later that night, after she’d thoroughly ruined him (and his pride), he finally managed to escape into the bathroom for a proper soak.
The water was blissfully hot around his shoulders, his eyes closing as he leaned back against the cool tile, only to hear the door creak open.
He cracked one eye open just in time to see her silhouette step in, towel clutched around her curves, and a dangerous little smile on her lips.
“…What are you doing?” he asked flatly, though his pulse betrayed him already.
She dropped the towel with deliberate care, letting it pool on the floor before stepping into the water and sliding in behind him.
Her soft, bare body pressed to his back, her arms wrapping lazily around his chest as her cheek rested against his shoulder.
“Just reminding you,” she murmured into his ear.
He let out a quiet sigh as his hand slid into the water, smoothing along her thigh and calf while he leaned back into her warmth.
“You really are insufferable,” he finally muttered, though his voice had softened.
She chuckled softly against his neck and pressed a lingering kiss there before whispering, “But you love me.”
And though he didn’t answer, just laying himself back to rest on her body, his thumb brushed up the side of her thigh, and she swore she caught the faintest curve of a smile at the corner of his lips.
Warning: Fingering, Cunnilingue, Friends to Strangers to Lovers, FLUFF, Doggystyle Position, Unprotected sex, Nipple play...?, Missionary Position, Size Kink...?, Confession, Touch Starve Reader! (You just miss your Giant man), Voyeur (people be nosy), SoftDom! Gyomei, Basically, NSFW. 🤷🏻♀️
Also, be mindful that I didn't really mention much of the reader's appearance (Besides, she's a female) since I wanted to keep it vague for everyone to relate as much as possible, though it is definitely for the more voluptuous side of ladies. 😊
Please be mindful that the photos are not mine, but the making of the collage is.
MINORS DNI!!!! 🔞🙅🏻♀️ If you're not comfortable with this, please ignore!
P.S. All characters are 18 and up.
In the tranquil surroundings of a secluded temple, Gyomei lived a simpler life before he became the renowned demon slayer he was destined to be. The temple always smelled of damp stone, sandalwood incense, and warm rice.
It was humble—just weathered wooden floors and thin walls—but it was full of life. Laughter filled its halls from sunrise to starlight. Nine little voices could be heard, sometimes yelling, crying, or singing off-key, but they were always present.
At the center of it all stood Gyomei. A teenager, barely a man, he was broad and gentle and often went barefoot. He found purpose and joy in caring for the nine orphaned children, creating a family out of the remnants of their shattered pasts. The temple, with its serene atmosphere and lush grounds, provided a sanctuary for them all.
A young girl, close to his age, would often visit the temple. She wasn't from that world.
Not really.
Her robes were finer, and her shoes never touched mud. Coming from a home far across town with doors that shut more than they opened.
She returned nearly every day, drawn by something she couldn’t quite articulate. She arrived with gifts of rice, her delicate hands mending the tattered robes of the little ones, her laughter mingling with theirs, creating a symphony of joy that filled the air.
“You don’t have to help,” Gyomei had said once, voice soft as always.
“I want to,” she said, passing him a fresh rag. “Besides… I really like it here.”
Although she didn’t voice her feelings, he sensed the affection she had for him. In return, his heart swelled with warmth whenever she graced him with her presence.
As the evening descended upon the temple, it wrapped the building in a serene stillness. One by one, the children succumbed to sleep, tucking themselves into their futons like little foxes finding safety and warmth. Their gentle sighs filled the air, a soothing reminder of innocence and peace.
The paper walls creaked softly, responding to the whispers of the evening breeze, while crickets outside chirped their soft lullabies, creating a tranquil symphony that wrapped around the temple like a tender hug. She lay quietly, her eyes half-lidded, drawn to the moonlight filtering through the thin wooden slats, casting delicate patterns across the ground. Earlier, one of the younger children had nestled into her blanket, seeking her warmth, and now their small form pressed gently against her, anchoring her in a comforting reality.
Across the room, just a few feet away, Gyomei sat quietly in prayer, his presence grounding and calming. With his head bowed and hands clasped together, he moved his lips in silent rhythm, creating an intimate and sacred atmosphere. She longed to reach out to him, to bridge the space that separated them, but refrained from interrupting the stillness that surrounded him.
Still, a tender hope blossomed within her, yearning for him to come and join her, to share in that comfort. She watched with a mix of admiration and warmth as Gyomei finally exhaled a long, soft breath, signaling the conclusion of his prayers. He murmured the last syllables with a peaceful reverence, reaching out gently to extinguish the flickering flame.
The room fell into a gentle darkness, filled with an unmistakable sense of connection and shared warmth, as if the very air around them was wrapped in an embrace of understanding and compassion.
The room was bathed in moonlight.
With purpose, Gyomei rose from his kneeling position and moved across the floor barefoot, relying solely on his memory. She noted the powerful slope of his back highlighted in the pale blue shadows, the way his muscles flexed beneath the thin fabric of his robe.
He reached the mat beside hers, the floor creaking softly as he knelt down and settled onto his futon with barely a whisper. He adjusted the blanket over the little girl between them, then lay back slowly, mindful not to disrupt the stillness.
She felt his presence. So close.
Turning onto her side to face him, she noticed how his head shifted at the sound, as if he could sense her attention like sunlight penetrating closed eyes.
“Gyomei,” she said softly, careful not to wake the others.
He turned slightly, his motion deliberate and responsive to her voice. “Yes?"
His voice was different—lower, more intimate. It penetrated the dark and settled warmly in her chest.
“You pray every night. Do you ever pray for yourself?” she asked, her tone assertive.
There was a moment of silence, enough for her to catch the gentle rhythm of the children’s breaths.
“No,” he admitted. “Only for them.”
She shifted onto her back, her voice steady. “You should.”
He hesitated, the air around them thickening as he contemplated her words.
The little girl stirred slightly, sighing in her sleep with her small hands tucked near her chin.
“They feel safest when you’re near,” she stated, firm in her belief.
“I don’t know if I deserve that kind of trust,” Gyomei murmured, his voice tinged with doubt.
She shook her head, confident. “You do.”
A pause hung in the air, a moment of understanding. The moonlight illuminated his face, catching the strong angles of his jaw and the gentle slope of his cheek. She wanted to reach out, but instead, she declared, “I never feel lonely when I’m here.”
“Neither do I,” he replied, his voice catching slightly at the end, revealing the weight of their shared connection.
Words fell away, but an electric hum filled the space between them.
Without fully realizing it, her hand moved beneath the edge of the covers. It wasn’t intentional—she simply wanted to be closer. Her fingers glided towards where his hand rested at the center of the futon.
Then there was skin.
The brush of her fingertips met his rough skin, and he did not flinch—his hand opened slowly, a quiet invitation.
She inhaled, paused, then slid her fingers into his palm, tentative yet resolute, asking a question without uttering a word.
He responded by closing his hand around hers.
His grip was large and calloused, yet incredibly gentle, as if the precious girl between them was fragile.
Her thumb pressed into his skin with assurance, and his thumb mirrored the gesture, gliding along the back of her hand in a soothing rhythm.
Silence reigned, but they didn’t need words.
The way they held one another across that child’s sleeping body conveyed everything: ‘I’m here. I feel it too. I just don’t know how to say it yet.’
Their eyes closed, hearts racing, their joined hands resting between their bodies like a cherished secret.
With the sound of wind brushing through the temple eaves, they drifted off to sleep, facing each other in the dark, holding on tightly. They didn’t realize how precious this moment was, nor that it would be the last before everything changed.
Yet that night, in the stillness, she was his, and he was unequivocally hers.
The morning after that night felt like waking from a dream—the warmth of Gyomei’s hand still echoing in hers. In the still hush of dawn, something inside her had shifted. She couldn’t name it, but it had changed her, as if a quiet truth had settled inside her chest—one tied entirely to him.
Sunlight filtered softly through the paper screens, painting golden shapes across the wooden floor. Outside, birds sang gently from the trees. Inside, the temple began to stir. The children woke with sleepy yawns and tangled hair, their laughter spilling through the hallways as they chased each other barefoot across the polished wood.
She had only meant to slip away for a short while. Just long enough to grab a clean robe, a comb, and maybe a shawl for the cooler nights ahead. There was no need to tell Gyomei—he was likely still sweeping the garden when she stepped off the grounds.
She would be back before he noticed.
Or so she thought.
But the moment she stepped through her family’s ornate front gate, an unsettling stillness enveloped her, wrapping around her like a heavy fog. The quiet felt wrong—too quiet. The air crackled with unspoken tension, and the house hummed with frenetic movement, but not the usual kind. There was no cheerful chatter from the servants, no warm aroma of freshly brewed tea wafting through the air.
Instead, urgency pulsed through the atmosphere, a disquieting rush that prickled at her skin.
Then—her mother’s voice, cutting through the silence like a knife: “You’re just in time. We’re leaving.”
She froze on the threshold, her heart racing. “Leaving?”
In the grand front hall, her father stood like a conductor at the center of a chaotic symphony, directing servants as they hurriedly packed crates and sealed trunks. The entire house buzzed with activity—drawers were yanked open and emptied, treasured heirlooms were wrapped in linen and boxed, and furniture was hastily rearranged. Even the delicate porcelain vases that had sat sacred and untouched for years had vanished, leaving only empty spaces—gaps that echoed with unfulfilled memories.
Her bag slipped from her shoulder and hit the polished wooden floor with a soft thud, an unceremonious sound that felt like a tolling bell. “You didn’t say anything about leaving.”
Her mother turned to her, eyes like storm clouds—unreadable and heavy with unspoken fears. “We didn’t need to. It’s already decided.”
“How long?” she asked, dread pooling in her stomach like a stone.
“Permanently,” her mother replied, the finality of the word crashing over her like a tidal wave.
The word hit her like a physical blow. Her heart pounded against her ribcage, frantic and wild.
“No—wait, no. I’m not going. I need to return—my things are still at the temple.”
“You won’t need them where we’re going,” her mother interrupted, her tone sharp as glass.
“I live there now,” she insisted, desperation clawing at her throat. “I help with the children. I—”
“You don’t belong there,” her mother cut in again, the steel in her voice unmistakable. “That was never meant to be permanent.”
“I don’t belong here either!” she snapped, her voice trembling as the weight of her words hung between them like a bitter accusation.
Her father, resolute and unyielding, didn’t even cast a glance in her direction. A servant stepped forward to ease her bag from her grasp, but she snatched it back defensively, clutching it to her chest as if it were a lifeline.
“You can’t make me leave.”
Yet in the background, the ominous sound of the carriage being loaded rumbled like distant thunder. Her mother let out a deep sigh, pulling on her gloves with deliberate calm, as if trying to maintain her composure against an impending storm.
“You’re still a child,” she stated, her words cold and final. “You’ll come because we say so.”
“I’m not a child!” she cried, feeling the heat of defiance rise within her, fueled by desperation.
“Then stop acting like one,” her mother retorted, the edge in her voice cutting deeper than any knife.
Her breath caught in her throat. “Please… At least let me just say goodbye.”
“You’ll thank us later,” her mother replied, voice unwavering and merciless. “We leave now.”
The anguish burned in her chest as she turned away, tears threatening to spill over and betray her. Panic surged within her, a wild beast clawing for freedom. Every fiber of her being screamed to run—to escape back to where she truly belonged. To the temple. To him.
But then—
A hand, gentle yet firm, wrapped around her wrist. It wasn’t rough or cruel; it wasn’t a grasp of authority. A maid stood beside her, eyes shimmering with sympathy, her voice low and kind: “I’m so sorry.”
In that instant, her resolve crumbled, her strength faltering like a flickering candle in a gale.
And just like that, she was led away.
Through the heavy door, out into the world that was suddenly foreign, she was ushered toward the carriage, a dark vessel of her unwelcome fate.
No goodbye.
No last look.
Not even the comforting sound of Gyomei’s gentle voice to anchor her in this tumultuous storm.
Only silence.
And the haunting memory of his hand holding hers, warm and reassuring.
It felt like the beginning of a lifetime of regret, an unwritten chapter that would forever leave her longing.
But deep within, amidst the rising tide of despair, she made herself a promise, resolute and unyielding:
‘When I can… I’ll come back. I’ll find him. And I’ll finish what we never got to start.’
Years later, the temple was gone.
She stood alone before the old temple gates, the sky overcast, cicadas humming faintly in the heat of summer.
It wasn’t how she remembered it.
The garden had become overgrown. The wooden beams faded to gray. The once vibrant laughter of children was now silent, echoes swallowed by time.
She stood there now, a grown woman draped in simple, flowing robes, her heart heavy as she stepped inside the sacred grove, her sandals crunching softly over the brittle, fallen leaves. This place was hallowed, a sanctuary not only for her precious memories but for the essence of who she had once been—and who she had almost become.
Kneeling on the cool, damp grass, her fingers trembled with a mixture of sorrow and resolve as she lit a stick of incense for each child lost to the darkness. The sweet, smoky aroma curled into the air, mingling with her tears, which blurred her vision and streaked her cheeks.
She had asked around and heard the rumors: a demon attack, children mercilessly murdered. Among the dead, a lone boy had survived—labeled a killer, they said, with hands stained a dark crimson, a haunting contrast to the innocence of childhood.
But that was not the Gyomei she remembered. That wasn't the boy who held children with a delicate tenderness, as if cradling fragile porcelain. No, he was a guardian, a light in their lives, and the thought of him now painted with such a grim shade was unbearable.
“I came back,” she whispered. “Like I promised.”
Her eyes welling up, her heart aching. “I’m so sorry… I should’ve been here. I should’ve never left—”
And then she felt it—the air shifted, a subtle change that rustled the leaves and filled her with an unshakeable sense of presence. Quiet footsteps stirred the ground, and the weight of anticipation hung thick in the air. She turned sharply, her heart racing as it skipped a beat.
He was standing just beyond the frame of the gate. Taller than she remembered. Broader. His robes were darker now, worn and familiar. His hair was longer, his face more weathered… and his forehead now marked by a deep scar.
But it was him.
Her breath caught in her throat. “Gyomei...?”
His head tilted slightly, the weight of his unreadable expression layered with an unmistakable depth of emotion. The breath rushed from his chest, as if hearing her voice cracked open a dam within him, releasing a flood of pent-up feelings.
“...It’s you,” he replied softly, the words escaping like a quiet prayer into the twilight air.
“You’re alive… I thought—I was so scared…” she wept, the tears spilling down her cheeks, each one a fragment of the fear that had consumed her during the years apart.
“I thought you left,” his voice thickened, raw with the weight of truth. “Without a word. One day, you were gone. I waited. I prayed…”
“They made me go… my parents. I begged to stay. I screamed. But they took me far away.” The confession tumbled from her lips, filled with the anguish of helplessness. “I couldn’t escape.”
He stood in silence, a storm brewing behind clenched jaws, grappling with the tumult of emotions that swirled in the air between them.
“But the moment I could…” Her gaze locked onto his, eyes shimmering with determination and tears. “When I was old enough to leave on my own, I came back.”
Before she could think, she dashed toward him, throwing her arms around his solid frame. She melted into his chest, every sob tinged with the desperation of their lost years.
“You’re alive… you’re really alive…” His arms wrapped around her slowly at first, tentatively—as if afraid that she might disappear again. But as her warmth melded against him, he froze, paralysis overtaking him for just a heartbeat.
She felt it—the difference.
She was no longer the girl who had left. Gone were the innocent dreams and untested hopes. And he… was no longer the boy she knew, the playful friend; he had become a man forged by hardship and time.
His hands flexed around her back, breath catching in his throat as her curves pressed into him—her softness juxtaposed against the solid wall of his chest, her hips fitting against his form like a meticulously woven puzzle piece. He held her tighter, whispering low and shaken, “You’ve changed…”
Pulling back just enough to gaze into his eyes, her hand reached up, fingers tracing the thick curve of his bicep, gliding over the breadth of his shoulder.
“So have you…” she murmured, her voice thick with newfound intimacy. “You’re bigger. Stronger. And this scar…” She brushed her fingertips gently across the ridge on his forehead, her touch imbued with both reverence and longing.
He flushed under her caress, but she didn’t withdraw. Biting her lip, her palm continued its journey down his arm, feeling the warmth and strength that radiated from him now, broad, real, an anchor in the storm of their emotions.
The space between them crackled with tension, electric and palpable, as her eyes held a gaze that spoke of all the things left unspoken. And then, before doubt could take root, before shame or sorrow could pull them back into their past, she kissed him.
It wasn’t gentle; it wasn’t shy. It was a kiss born of desperation and longing, mouths colliding with an urgency that unraveled years of silence. Her hands framed his face, trembling with the weight of love long hidden, and in that moment, Gyomei shuddered, as if her lips had breathed life back into his soul.
He kissed her back, pouring into that embrace all the love he had carried in his heart through every prayer, every swing of his axe, every moment of stillness between battles.
When they finally pulled apart, her hand slipping into his, she whispered, “Let me show you,” a fire blooming behind her eyes, igniting a fierce hope.
“Let me show you just how much I’ve changed.”
He didn’t stop her when she pulled him away, his only response a nod—an unspoken promise that together, they would navigate the uncharted territory of their rekindled connection.
The walk to the inn was quiet, but it thrummed with something unspoken.
Her hand stayed tucked securely in Gyomei’s, her smaller fingers enveloped in his warmth. She walked close, her soft form pressed into his side as if her body was remembering the space it had always belonged in.
He didn’t rush.
Each of his steps was steady, measured, as if even now, he still carried the memory of small feet trailing behind him through temple halls.
The village fell away behind them, the sky dimming into a cool blue dusk.
Just past the last homes and rice paddies, nestled at the base of a gently sloping hill, sat the inn. Tucked in the quiet of the outskirts, it was a place for solitude, meant for travelers who needed silence more than company.
Soft lanterns glowed beneath its awning, the scent of cedar smoke and warm tatami curling in the air.
The front door slid open before they reached it.
An older woman stood in the frame—her yukata faded but well-kept, her eyes sharp despite the softness in her features. Her gaze landed on Gyomei first, and for a heartbeat, she said nothing.
Then, quietly, as if disbelieving her own eyes:
“Himejima Gyomei… You’ve been gone longer than usual.”
She stepped forward, bowing slowly, the motion full of quiet familiarity and unspoken concern.
“I was starting to worry. You never miss more than a day or two without a word.”
Gyomei returned her bow with gentle reverence, the wooden beads at his neck swaying softly with the motion.
“I apologize for the delay,” he said in a low, steady voice. “I… took a different path this time.”
As he spoke, his fingers tightened around the smaller hand in his—soft and warm, curled trustingly into his palm.
“Thank you for receiving us.”
It was only then that the innkeeper’s eyes shifted.
They landed on the woman at his side—curvy, grown, beautiful. Her robes were modest, but they clung slightly from the humidity of the evening, emphasizing the plush curve of her hips and the softness in her frame as she leaned into the Pillar's side.
The innkeeper blinked once. Then again.
Her breath caught.
She took in the girl's face—the gentle expression, the warmth in her eyes, the closeness of her body tucked into Gyomei’s side. The way his much larger hand enveloped hers without hesitation. The ease. The intimacy.
The unmistakable sense of something long-separated… now whole again.
“Oh…” she breathed, a note of realization softening her voice. “You’re her.”
She blinked, startled. “Me?”
“The summer girl,” the woman said, voice laced with fond surprise. “From the estate on the hill. You used to come with your family every year, didn’t you?”
She nodded slowly, surprised she remembered.
“Quiet thing, always sneaking off,” she went on with a chuckle. “We all knew where you were going. She’d wander right down to the temple and follow that tall, gentle boy around like a little ghost who’d found its home.”
Her cheeks flushed, the memories rising like heat.
“I remember,” she murmured. “I never wanted to leave.”
Her eyes softened. They drifted back to their joined hands—his thumb brushing over her knuckles, her arm curled around his.
“Well,” The innkeeper said, a smile tugging at her lips. “Looks like you found your way back after all.”
She didn’t ask any questions. She didn’t need to.
“Room at the end of the hall is empty,” she added, stepping aside. “I’ll see that the other guests keep to themselves tonight.”
Then, under her breath, just loud enough for her to hear:
“About time the mountain held onto his moon.”
Gyomei tilted his head, and she could tell he’d heard it too, but said nothing.
He simply squeezed her hand and stepped forward, leading her inside with the quiet steadiness that had always defined him.
As the door whispered shut behind them, the rest of the world fell away.
At last, it was just the two of them—and the night waiting to unfold.
Inside, the room was still. A single paper lantern bathed the woven tatami floor in golden light. A futon had already been laid out. The soft scent of hinoki wood and steeped tea leaves lingered in the air, grounding everything in stillness.
She said nothing at first.
She stood just beyond the threshold, her hand still held in Gyomei’s—his large, warm fingers wrapping around hers like a vow. Her whole body hummed with the weight of what had passed between them, and everything that hadn’t been spoken.
Gyomei listened with his entire being. The a gentle tension in his shoulders. The way his head tilted subtly toward her breath. The way he never let go of her hand, as though it anchored him.
“Gyomei,” she said softly, tugging him forward, “do you remember that night at the temple?”
He paused mid-step. “The night we held hands,” he answered, voice low and quiet, as if the memory lived just beneath his skin.
She nodded, her heart aching.
“I remember thinking,” she murmured, “if we were ever alone... truly alone…”
Her voice broke off, trembling with the enormity of what was about to become real.
He turned to her, slowly, reverently, and lifted both hands to cradle her face. His thumbs brushed her cheekbones as though committing her shape to memory—careful, unhurried, sacred.
“We are now,” he whispered.
She rose to her toes and kissed him.
This time, it was slower. Not frantic, not rushed—but sure. A reunion not of desperation, but devotion. A kiss that ached with years lost, love stored, and need neither had dared name. His lips moved with quiet reverence, fingers threading into her hair, one hand sliding down to press gently against her spine, drawing her close.
When they parted, her breath shook in her chest. The only sound between them was the faint rustle of silk as she slowly let her robe slip from her shoulders. It fell around her feet in a soft puddle of fabric, leaving her bare beneath the warm flicker of lantern light—and before him.
She saw it then. The way his head shifted at the sound. The sharp catch in his breath. Though he couldn’t see her, he could feel her—her heat, her nervous energy, the scent of her bare skin blooming between them.
She stepped closer and whispered, “I want you to touch me.”
Then, reaching for his hand—so much larger, rougher, warmer—she guided it down her side. His calloused fingers trembled as they skimmed over the softness of her hip. When she brought his hand higher, guiding him over the gentle swell of her breast, she gasped before she could stop herself.
He froze. Breath caught. Voice tight with restraint. “Did I hurt you—?”
“No.” She pressed his hand firmer to her chest. “Please… don’t stop touching me.”
She took his hand again and guided it lower—across her stomach, over the curve of her hip, and finally between her thighs.
He hesitated.
She did not.
She guided his hand directly to the place where she was already wet for him. When his fingers brushed her slick folds, a soft groan rumbled deep in his chest, and something inside him snapped.
He gathered her into his arms like she weighed nothing. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. Her arms encircled his neck as he carried her to the futon and laid her down, not rough, but heavy with urgency.
He knelt between her legs, hands never leaving her skin.
She felt his breath graze her inner thighs, felt his hands slide from her hips to her knees, gently spreading her open for him. The reverence in the way he touched her—it undid her more than anything.
His mouth began lower, near her knee. His tongue flicked out.
He started slowly—licking, sucking, tasting the inside of her thigh. His saliva glistened on her skin, his tongue dragging in slow, deliberate strokes that made her hips twitch with anticipation.
He avoided her folds at first, teasing her.
Tracing the crease where thigh meets hip, kissing, sucking, tormenting the sensitive skin. She cried out, hips lifting, but he only moved to the other side, dragging his tongue along her skin, close, but never quite enough.
"Gyomei," she gasped, trembling. “Please… more. I need—”
He answered her with a low hum and pressed a thick finger inside her.
Her hips bucked.
Slowly, carefully, he began to stretch her, his finger curling with intention. Then another joined it, working her open, preparing her. Still, his mouth avoided her core—he kissed and worshipped every inch of the skin around it, making her writhe.
Her folds were puffy, slick, aching. His fingers scissored her open while her juices slipped down her thighs, glistening in the lantern light.
One of his hands slid up her body, found her breast, and began to knead. He pinched her nipple gently, rolled it between his fingers, feeding pleasure into her while his tongue finally slid between her folds.
She sobbed.
He devoured her slowly. Thoroughly. His tongue moved with soft, deliberate strokes. Wide, flat licks that made her whole body tremble.
She could feel her climax building—tension tightening in her belly, her muscles clenching around his fingers.
"Gyomei!" she cried out, her back arching as his mouth locked onto her clit, his tongue flicking, his fingers pressing deep inside and curling just right.
"Yes!" she gasped.
Then, he slowed. Pulled back.
She sobbed in frustration.
“Gyomei… please… I wanna feel so good…”
He lowered his mouth again, lapping at her slowly. His cock ached, throbbing beneath him with the need to be inside her—but this wasn’t about him.
This was for her.
Feeling bold, he added a third finger.
“A-ah! I—I’m—” she babbled, incoherent. Her entire body clenched, her thighs trembling around his head.
And then she came.
Her orgasm shattered her. Her cries filled the room as her walls gripped his fingers, her slick coating his hand and mouth as he drank her down greedily. The taste of her sweet, intoxicating left him dazed.
Her thighs clenched around his head from the overstimulation, her voice barely managing to call his name between broken breaths.
When she finally softened, boneless and shaking, he lifted his head. His face glistened with her release. He smiled.
Then he rose.
He loomed above her now, massive, trembling with restraint. The futon creaked beneath his weight as he settled between her thighs once more.
He held her gaze.
She reached up, brushing the scar across his forehead with reverent fingers. “I want to feel all of you,” she whispered.
“Then I’ll give you everything,” he promised.
And he meant it.
Then he stood.
Slow. Towering. Intentional.
He loomed above her, seven feet of silent reverence, his presence casting a warm shadow over her trembling form. The futon creaked beneath his weight as he climbed over her, the air thickening with anticipation.
His robe hung loosely at his hips, revealing the sculpted curve of his chest, his breath fanning hot against her face. One of his large hands cradled her cheek, rough thumb brushing gently across her lower lip.
“Let me remember you like this,” he murmured, voice soft with awe.
Then he kissed her.
And she melted.
It wasn’t urgent. It was deeper than that—full of quiet ache, heavy with meaning. His lips moved with certainty, reverent and slow, and her body instinctively followed.
Without speaking, her hands found the tie of his robe.
She tugged—gentle, deliberate—fingers curling around the knot like muscle memory from a dream.
He stood above her.
Breath catching.
Not resisting.
She tilted her head back slightly, meeting his face with a shy, yearning smile, the tie still held between her fingers. It said everything:
‘I want to see you. All of you.’
His jaw flexed, his throat worked around a breath—but he didn’t stop her.
She undressed him slowly, the robe parting in layers until nothing separated them. Until he was fully bare before her.
And it made her breath hitch.
He was immense. Vast. His body was carved from devotion and discipline, a cathedral of muscle and scars. Strength coiled beneath his skin like a silent hymn. His chest rose and fell with restrained breath, and though his eyes could not see her, he tilted his head, sensing her silence. Feeling her awe.
His hands, curled at his sides, trembled—whether from nerves or restraint, she didn’t know.
Didn’t care.
She licked her lips without thinking, hunger and wonder glowing in her eyes.
“You’re breathtaking,” she whispered, voice sacred.
He swallowed hard. His body loomed over hers like a mountain of heat and yearning, carefully not pressing into her. Yet she could feel every bit of him—his power, his need, his restraint.
With careful, reverent motions, he nudged her thighs open, his hand trailing the length of her side. She arched into his touch when his fingers brushed the tender dip of her hip.
Gyomei lowered himself, guiding his body between her legs like a man offering worship. He kissed her jaw, then lower, lips trailing down to the curve of her breast.
He paused, listening—feeling—her breath stutter beneath him.
“Gyomei…” she panted, her hands reaching for him, fingers curling around his forearm.
“Are you ready, my sweet?” he asked, stroking himself with slow, practiced motion.
She nodded, dazed with need—but her voice didn’t follow.
And he waited, gently coaxing, “Use your words, sweet one.”
“Yes!” she gasped. “Please… let us become one, Gyomei.”
His heart ached at the way she said it—with such innocence, such desperation.
He kissed her crown tenderly, chest shuddering. Then shifted, lining himself up. She felt the thick, hot pressure of him begin to press into her. Her body, slick and open from her earlier climax, welcomed him. But he was… massive.
Her breath caught.
The stretch stung, his size pushing her limits in a way nothing ever had. Her hands clung to the sheets, her body straining to take all of him. Yet she didn’t pull back.
She took him.
Burning. Shaking. Whimpering with every inch.
Every second pulled the years closer, collapsing all time and distance between them.
He groaned low, his arms wrapping around her—like he needed to feel her, to hold her, to anchor himself in her reality. In the soft heat of her. The curve of her body. The sacred place she’d allowed him to enter.
Their breaths tangled. The futon groaned. His movements are slow, like waves kissing the shore.
Her lips trembled as she whispered his name over and over, each time more broken, more reverent.
“You feel… incredible…” he groaned, forehead resting against hers.
“Gyomei…” she gasped, body rising with every thrust, “I—I can’t—”
He leaned down, pressing his chest against her breasts, one hand gliding along her waist until their fingers laced.
He didn’t answer with words. He kissed her—her shoulder, her throat, the swell of her breast—each touch a vow he couldn’t say aloud.
Their bodies moved in a rhythm of memory and rediscovery, wet sounds and desperate moans filling the air.
It wasn’t rough.
It wasn’t rushed.
It was worship.
“You feel…” he rasped, brushing his lips along her jaw, “…like heaven.”
Golden light from the lantern flickered across the room, painting the shadows of their reunion on the walls.
“I missed you,” she whispered against his neck, voice tight with tears.
“I dreamed of you,” he breathed, trembling.
Later, when her body was pliant and drenched with heat, he gently guided her forward. Without resistance, she followed, allowing him to maneuver her onto her hands and knees. Her breasts and arms cushioned by the pillow, hips tilted back in invitation.
He knelt behind her, and she could hear the ragged edge of his breath.
“You’re perfect…” he murmured, awestruck, one hand ghosting down the curve of her back. “...Every part of you.”
When he slid back inside, she cried out—air stolen from her lungs.
This angle was brutal and deep, the stretch sharp and unrelenting. She trembled, mouth parted around a broken moan. He groaned, one hand bracing her hip, the other reaching down to find her fingers again. Even now, he held her hand.
She grasped blindly, lacing her fingers with his.
Then—
He moved.
Slow at first. Then steady. Then—
Hard.
His hips snapped forward, wet slaps echoing with each thrust. Her moans turned breathless, forehead pressed to the pillow, body trembling with ecstasy.
“Gyomei—” she gasped.
“I’ve got you,” he panted, lips brushing her neck. “You’re mine—let go.”
And she did.
Everything blurred. Only his voice kept her grounded. His weight behind her, his hand holding hers against the mattress, his cock claiming her deeper with each powerful thrust.
Gyomei worshiped her like scripture, touching every inch of her, memorizing the shape of her, from the plushness of her thighs to the curves of her breasts, the softness of her belly, the sacred heat of where their bodies met.
Even in pleasure, he hovered—his massive body braced carefully above hers, his movements mindful.
But she didn’t want that now.
Not anymore.
“Gyomei…” she whispered. “You won’t break me… please… don’t hold back.”
He froze.
Then something inside him gave way.
His grip on her hip tightened, and the rhythm shifted—slower, no longer. Her body rocked beneath him, thighs trembling from the force, slick dripping down her legs.
“You feel…” he groaned, voice ragged, “so perfect… made for me.”
She sobbed beneath him, overwhelmed, shaking, clinging.
One of her legs faltered. He caught her, pulling her upright into his arms. Her back pressed to his sweat-slick chest, her head tilted against his shoulder.
“You said you wouldn’t break,” he growled in her ear, voice cracked.
“Then prove it.”
He moved again.
Thrust after thrust, body against body, soul against soul. The room filled with the sound of their union, moans, and wet slaps rising like prayer.
She felt everything.
His strength. His depth. His need.
“You feel… so good. So soft…” he gasped, each movement stealing breath from his lungs.
Her moans turned wild when he hit that spot—over and over—until her thoughts fractured.
“It’s always been you,” she sobbed. “Only you. I’ve wanted this for so long—”
Tears streamed freely down her cheeks.
Her mouth opened, tongue lolling slightly, a string of drool falling as her body lost control.
“I know,” he whispered, forehead pressed to hers. “I know.”
His rhythm grew desperate, sloppy, her slick coating his cock, dripping onto the futon. He kissed her again, hungry and trembling.
She wasn't kissing a boy she once knew.
She was being loved by the man he had become.
Her climax shattered her.
“I love you,” she sobbed, trembling.
“I love you, too,” Gyomei choked out, tears flowing.
He cried from the fullness of it—from how she felt, from how deeply he had missed her. From the prayer answered.
She called his name, body writhing, arching, pulsing around him. The pleasure was so powerful that it blanked her mind.
He followed.
Her orgasm pulled his from him. He groaned, low and primal, thrusting deep, stilling as his cock pulsed and emptied inside her.
Even then—
Their hands remained entwined.
Slowly, gently, he withdrew. She whimpered at the loss, shivering as his warmth spilled down her thighs—a tangible memory of their love.
He collapsed beside her, breath ragged, silent.
And for the first time since childhood…
They slept in each other’s arms.
No distance.
No years apart.
No child between them.
Just her.
Just him.
Flesh to flesh.
Soul to soul.
Still holding hands.
Bonus:
Inside the room, the air was thick with heat and longing, the futon creaking beneath the weight of bodies rediscovering each other. His deep groans mingled with her soft, desperate moans, echoing faintly through the wood-paneled hallways like a quiet storm behind closed doors.
Gyomei moved with reverent care, his massive frame arching protectively over her soft, curvy form like a temple ceiling sheltering sacred ground.
She was on her knees now, plush hips lifted, thighs parted, her upper body sinking into a nest of pillows. Each thrust sent a ripple through her generous figure, her skin flushed and trembling beneath his hands. He held her as if every part of her was a blessing—his rough palms worshiping the curve of her waist, the softness of her belly, the way her full backside met his hips with every slow, rolling movement.
"You’re… incredible," he rasped, his voice thick with awe as he leaned forward, lips brushing the curve of her shoulder. "All of you—every inch."
She whimpered, a breathy sound that melted into a moan as he laced their fingers together again, anchoring them both in the center of the storm.
Outside the half-ajar door, two maids stood frozen, eyes wide, mouths parted in silent shock, caught between awe and scandal.
"Merciful heavens," one whispered, clutching her broom handle like a lifeline. "He's... he's massive."
"He’s swallowing her whole," the other breathed, stunned. "Look at the size of him—he’s built like a damn mountain—and she’s so… soft."
"Curvy," the first corrected reverently. "And he’s touching her like she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever held."
"He’s behind her—see how he’s holding her hips? Like they were sculpted just for him."
They watched with their hearts pounding, breath shallow, as Gyomei leaned over the woman’s back, whispering something only she could hear—his lips brushing her ear, his hand gliding down the dip of her waist, his body pressed to hers, slow and sure.
"The way she moves with him... like she trusts him with her whole soul."
"You think she feels small next to him?"
"With arms like those? She probably feels safe. Worshipped. I’d give up my next five paychecks for one night in that man’s arms."
Their breath caught as a new sound rose—a moan cresting into a breathless cry, the air now thick with years of want unraveling all at once.
"Do you think it’s their first time?"
"If it is, she’ll never recover."
"I wouldn’t want to. I'd build a shrine around that man and never leave."
They inched closer, swaying with morbid curiosity as the creaking futon shifted into rhythmic thuds and a sharp cry followed:
"Gyomei, please—yes, like that—don’t stop!"
The maids froze.
"Gyomei?" the younger whispered, blinking. "Wait... Gyomei Himejima?"
The other gasped, a hand flying to her mouth. "The Stone Hashira? That’s him?"
The name rolled over them like thunder, all the pieces clicking into place—the sheer size, the gentle strength, the scars, the reverence in every movement.
"I thought he vanished after the war," the first murmured, heart thudding. "But that's him. That’s Himejima."
"A Demon Slayer," the other breathed. "And he’s... he’s making love like it’s a sacred vow."
The younger maid gripped the doorframe tighter. "Sweet mercy, he’s doing something to her. She’s been calling his name like a prayer."
"He’s worshiping her with everything he’s got," the other murmured, entranced. "I didn’t know monks could even—"
"He’s not a monk anymore," the first muttered. "He’s a man. A very big, very devoted man."
Their cheeks were flushed, hands trembling, hearts caught in the haze of the passion they were witnessing. They didn’t know if they wanted to flee or stay rooted to the spot forever.
"That’s... that’s not just sex," the younger whispered, voice barely more than breath. "That’s someone being chosen. Cherished. Like she’s the answer to a prayer he never dared speak."
"And he’s finally tasting what he’s waited his whole life for," the other added softly, her eyes glossy with unspoken yearning. "If it were me... I’d never let him go."
Just as one of them dared to lean forward, eyes glazed with heat, a sharp voice cracked through the charged air behind them.
"You two."
They whipped around like guilty children, their faces blotched with red, hearts hammering in their chests. One clutched an empty tray like a shield, the other froze mid-peek, terror and embarrassment twisting on her face.
The innkeeper stood firm, arms crossed, gaze narrowed with authority honed over years of managing wandering hands and whispered desires.
"Have you forgotten yourselves? What part of 'privacy' did that creaking door not spell out?"
"We weren’t going to interrupt—" one stammered.
"So is half the inn," the older woman replied dryly. "But curiosity doesn’t give you the right to spy on something sacred."
"We were just curious!" the younger squeaked, still pink with arousal and guilt.
She moved past them, her robes brushing the walls, footsteps silent but sure. When another breathless moan met her ears—followed by a whisper of devotion—her expression softened.
Then she saw them.
Through the crack in the door: Gyomei’s massive body curled protectively over the woman beneath him. She wasn’t clinging to him, but to the pillow beneath her, her fingers buried deep in the fabric, knuckles white. Her expression—visible in profile—was one of open surrender, lips parted, brows drawn together in aching pleasure. Her whole body trembled beneath him, held not just by his hands but by the years of yearning finally coming undone.
Her throat tightened.
Years ago, she remembered that girl—spirited, cloaked in silks, but wandering like someone still searching. Always trailing after the tall, silent temple boy with soot-dark hands and a tenderness that never fit his size. Summer after summer, they returned like a promise unfulfilled. Always together. Almost always.
She reached out, laid her palm gently against the doorframe, and pushed it closed with care. The latch clicked softly, like sealing a secret.
She turned back to the maids, who stood overwhelmed, chastened but still dazzled, flushed with secondhand heat.
"That’s not a show for you to gawk at," the innkeeper said softly now, almost reverent. "That’s years of aching silence… finally answered."
Neither girl dared to speak.
The innkeeper exhaled, giving them each one last glance—part warning, part wistful.
"Let them have this. After everything... they’ve earned it."
And with a final sweep of her sleeves, she disappeared down the corridor, leaving behind only the faint creak of wood and the sacred rhythm of a love that had at last been reclaimed.
Sadly Tumblr wants to be mean, but that's fine, hopefully, this won't be flagged. if curious to see the whole photo here is the link. 😊
Warning: Cowgirl Position, Handjob, Hickey's, Fingering (Female receiving), Shino being a bit of a tease, Confession, Friends to Lovers, In Love Reader (You're literally ovulating for this man), FLUFF, Praise Kink, Mating Press Position, Dirtytalk, Nipple play, Virgin! Shino, Unprotected Sex, Basically, NSFW. 🤷🏻♀️
Also, be mindful that I didn't really mention much of the reader's appearance (Besides, she's a female) since I wanted to keep it vague for everyone to relate as much as possible, though it is definitely for the more voluptuous side of ladies. 😊
Please be mindful that the photos are not mine, but the making of the collage is.
MINORS DNI!!!! 🔞🙅🏻♀️ If you're not comfortable with this, please ignore!
P.S. All characters are 18 and up.
It started with a shift.
With the man she’d known since they were both just genin.
Back then, he was the boy who rarely spoke, avoided eye contact, and kept himself hidden behind a high collar and dark-tinted glasses. He was mysterious and unreadable, like he belonged more to the shadows than the sun.
On the other hand, she had always been his opposite—loud, expressive, and relentlessly curious. She didn’t find his quiet nature intimidating, just… fascinating. A walking challenge wrapped in mystery.
So naturally, she made it her mission to get a reaction out of him.
Poking and prodding at his calm demeanor became her favorite pastime. Teasing him mercilessly, tossing out nicknames just to see if she could get a twitch of the lips or an eye roll.
“Mister Mute and Moody.”
“Bug Sage.”
“Cloakzilla.”
“You okay under there, Count Aburame?”
He never reacted much. Maybe a blink. A small adjustment to his glasses. Occasionally, a grunt that could almost pass for a laugh if you were paying close attention. She always was.
She’d laugh like a hyena at her own jokes while he continued doing whatever deeply focused Shino thing he was doing. But he never pulled away. Never shut her out. And maybe that’s why it felt so easy—natural, even—to keep him close.
Over the years, she became a constant in his quiet world. A presence he allowed in.
But adulthood changed things. Life got busy. Jobs took up time. Missions, work, distance—it all crept in. They saw each other less. Spoke even less than that.
Maybe that’s why she didn’t notice the shift right away.
Until that day.
The day she noticed everything.
She had always seen Shino as her weird best friend. The tall, quiet one. Stoic and cryptic, wrapped in layers of dark fabric, sunglasses perpetually in place like he might burst into flames if touched by direct sunlight.
But now…
Now he was standing taller. More confident. He’d grown into his height, broad-shouldered, composed. That high collar no longer swallowed him whole, and when she caught a rare glimpse of his face, she noticed sharp cheekbones, a strong jaw, smooth skin, and lips that looked far too kissable for someone who barely used them.
Gone was the shy, elusive boy. In his place stood a man—quiet, yes, but assured. Intentional.
The coat that once drowned him now framed his physique perfectly, hugging his chest and arms. Even those ridiculous sunglasses somehow managed to look good on him now, catching the light just right. Like they belonged.
And his voice—deeper now, with a gravelly undertone that made her knees weak whenever he said her name. Calm, composed, steady—and infuriatingly hot.
Even his bugs had changed with him. They moved slower, more lazily across his skin when he was at ease, retreating when flustered, reflecting the subtle shift in his mood. She found herself watching them more than she should. Watching him more than she should.
She used to tease him endlessly.
Now? The jokes died on her lips whenever he looked at her too long. She stammered. Looked away. Her face burned way too easily.
She hated it.
Hated the way her thoughts turned inappropriate at the worst times—wondering what his voice sounded like first thing in the morning or how those long fingers would feel tracing parts of her no friend should be thinking about.
She was spiraling. And it was so obvious—to everyone but him.
...Or so she thought.
Kiba noticed first.
Of course he did.
He didn’t say anything to her, though. No, he went straight to Shino one afternoon during a break between missions, biting into a rice ball like it was just another day.
“So…” he said casually, mouth half full. “What’s going on with her?”
Shino blinked. “Who?”
“You know who,” Kiba muttered.
“She used to clown around you nonstop. Now? Barely teases you at all. Still gives everyone else hell, me included. But you? She gets quiet. Flustered, even.” He polished off the rest of his rice ball and pointed at Shino. “It’s funny, actually. She’s stuttering like Hinata did whenever Naruto walked by shirtless.”
Shino was quiet for a beat, adjusting his glasses like he always did when he was thinking.
Kiba raised a brow. “She’s totally into you,” he said flatly, just to see if he could get a rise out of his friend.
Shino’s face didn’t change, but his mind was clearly ticking.
“She’s… quieter,” he murmured.
“Exactly,” Kiba grinned. “That’s the point.”
-----
She stayed late one evening. The academy was quiet—students long gone. The usual excuse? Helping Shino with grading, like she often claimed.
Realistically?
She was just there for the company. For him.
Lately, she found more and more reasons to drop by—bringing snacks, making tea, or sitting cross-legged beside his desk, chatting about anything and everything. She talked his ear off, but Shino never complained. Not once did he seem annoyed.
And as always, at some point, she began to trail off.
Her voice softened. Her words thinned. Until silence took over—her eyes fixed on him. More specifically, on his hands. Long, veined, confident fingers sorting through lesson plans with ease. The calm in his expression, unbothered even by towering stacks of paperwork.
Maybe it was the way he pushed up his glasses, slow and casual, as if unaware that such a small action completely short-circuited her thoughts.
Lost in her little daydream, she didn’t realize how quiet she’d gone—until he spoke.
“You’ve changed,” he said, eyes still on the paper in front of him. “You don’t tease me anymore. No weird nicknames. No jokes about my coat. Not even a single bug pun in two weeks.”
She shifted awkwardly.
“I’ve just… matured.”
“Mm.” He hummed, then added, “Is that why you’ve been staring for the fourth time this week?”
She froze.
Her lips parted, voice caught.
“I have not—!”
“You were doing it just now.” Calmly, he set his pen down with careful precision, folding his hands atop the desk. “You think I wouldn’t notice?”
She opened her mouth to argue, but he stood—slow and deliberate—and began walking toward her.
She instinctively stepped back, her mouth suddenly dry.
“Say it.”
He stopped just inches away from her. Her back pressed against the wall behind her as his hand rested beside her head. He didn’t touch her, but his close presence washed over her like a current.
Her breath hitched.
“S-Say… what?”
“Tell me.” His head tilted slightly, his voice quiet, unreadable. “What exactly were you thinking?”
“S-Shino…” She squirmed under the weight of his gaze, biting her lip.
“What was it?”
Her face burned. Her mind spun. Her hands pressed against his chest, solid and warm. Too firm. Way too firm.
She stammered, looking down. Shaking her head.
“It’s nothing important.”
“I’m patient,” he said, stepping just a bit closer. “And I’ve learned to listen between silences.”
He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping lower.
“So say it. What’s been going through that pretty little head of yours? Your wildest thought.”
She bit her lip, trying to escape with a joke—but his gaze cut through her playfulness with unbearable calm.
“Use your words.”
Her throat tightened. Her eyes darted away from his. And finally, in a breathless whisper, she gave in.
“Fine,” she muttered. “You’re not supposed to be handsome, okay? You were supposed to stay my weird bug-boy best friend forever, not turn into this calm, grounded, actually pretty hot teacher who makes me imagine what you'd sound like losing your composure.”
Silence.
Not from tension, but from how still he became.
His eyes locked onto her—sharp, unreadable, and consuming.
“So,” he said softly, “you find me attractive now? And you’ve been thinking about what it would take… to unravel me?”
She nodded weakly, still trying to hide in his shadow.
“Interesting,” he murmured.
He leaned in—lips brushing her cheek, her ear, her jaw—and for a heartbeat, she swore he was going to kiss her.
She closed her eyes, tilted her chin up, and parted her lips.
But…
Nothing.
No warmth. No kiss.
Just stillness.
She opened her eyes to find him gone, already walking back to his desk, as if her confession had been a casual weather update.
“I should finish these before the evening’s over,” he said, voice steady, already uncapping his pen.
She stared at him, slack-jawed.
“You’re so mean!”
He didn’t even glance up.
“You jerk! I just confessed my deepest thoughts about you, and you’re sitting there like I asked if you’ve had lunch?!”
Still nothing.
“You made me say it! You cornered me and made me spill every unholy thing I’ve imagined about you—and now you’re just going back to grading?!”
She marched over to his desk and slammed her palms down on it.
“You don’t get to let someone confess and then go back to paperwork!”
Finally, he looked up. Calm. Unbothered.
“Are you finished?”
That hit a nerve.
“No!” she snapped. “Because I—”
But before she could finish, he stood. One hand reached out, curled behind her neck.
A firm pull—and the kiss she thought she’d get earlier came crashing into her. Only this time it was deeper. Rougher. Unapologetic. Like all the tension he’d been holding back, it erupted in one perfectly timed moment.
“You were loud again,” he murmured against her lips, voice low and sure. “I missed it.”
Her thoughts scattered like leaves. There was only one thing she was sure of now—it wasn’t an accident.
He planned this.
The bastard planned to leave her flustered and wanting, then kiss her while she was too angry to think straight.
“Y-You’re mean.”
He simply shrugged and turned back to his work.
“You’re the one who said I was distracting.”
-----
“Let’s grab something to eat,” Shino said casually a few days later, inviting his curvy friend like he hadn’t kissed her against his desk.
Just food. The two of them. Like always.
And yet… it felt different.
Of course, she said yes. It was her favorite spot—a cozy little eatery tucked behind the marketplace. Warm lighting. Quiet ambiance. Great food. They’d been there countless times.
But tonight, everything felt new.
On the way, she found herself walking closer than usual. Her arm brushed his—once, then again.
She didn’t move away.
Neither did he.
His scent—cedarwood and earth, something unmistakably his—lingered in the air, and she had the sudden urge to wrap herself around him. She didn’t, but her hand hovered near his. Her fingers twitched once, craving contact. Her eyes dropped to his hands—the same ones she’d admired for years.
Now that she’d felt them—grading papers, guiding insects, pulling her into a kiss—she wanted more.
She wanted all of him.
Not just as a friend. Not as a teammate.
She wanted his attention, the full weight of it.
Inside the restaurant, the warmth was comforting. They sat across from each other like always. She wore a soft smile she couldn’t wipe off, no matter how hard she tried to play it cool.
Shino hadn’t said much, but she caught the rare upward curl of his lips when she leaned in to steal a bite from his plate.
Familiar—but now charged with something electric.
Just as she was about to say something—
“Sensei!”
They turned toward the voice.
Three of Shino’s students stood nearby, grinning and carrying scrolls and skewers of street food.
“Shino-Sensei, is that your girlfriend?” one of them asked—loud enough for the whole restaurant to hear.
She choked on her drink. Eyes wide.
Shino blinked.
The kids didn’t let up.
“She’s so pretty! You never smile like that when we’re around!”
“Are you guys on a date?!”
Shino, ever composed, adjusted his glasses. “We’re simply having a meal.”
One of the kids snickered.
“Right. A meal where you’re sitting real close and she’s got hearts in her eyes.”
She was ready to protest—or die of embarrassment-but Shino calmly said, “It’s past curfew. You should head home.”
Groaning, the kids waved goodbye, tossing a final, “Have fun on your not-date, Sensei!” over their shoulders.
Once they were gone, she finally breathed again. She looked at Shino. He stared right back at her.
Then, unexpectedly, they both started laughing—quietly at first, then fuller, freer.
Why were they laughing?
Because truthfully… the kids weren’t wrong.
This was something new, and also wasn’t.
They’d always gravitated toward each other. Always teasing. Always lingering.
This closeness wasn’t sudden. It had been growing for years.
The only difference?
Now, they were finally letting themselves feel it.
And it was just the beginning.
The air outside is cooler now. Night has settled over the village, soft and still, with only a handful of people out on the main street.
The buzz of the restaurant faded behind them as she and Shino walked side by side once more—silent, yet undeniably connected.
Mentally telling herself, it was just like every other time. Just another meal and just another walk home. Shino was just being a gentleman, as he had done in the past.
But this time, she couldn't withstand just being close to him. Her fingers itch.
Every step makes her chest ache a little more because she wants to touch him. Not accidentally. Not subtly. She wanted to hold this man's hand. Leaned into his warmth and made up thousands of excuses to stay close by.
And this time, temptation got the upper hand. Not being able to stop herself.
Her hand reached out—almost without thinking—and gently tugged at the fabric of his sleeve.
She didn't say anything. But the look she gave him—soft, vulnerable, full of unspoken longing—was louder than any words she could've said.
Shino stops mid-step, glancing down at his sweet, curvy friend. His face was unreadable, but the sigh he let out was soft, almost amused—more like an exhale of surrender than annoyance.
He reached out and took her hand anyway, threading his long fingers through hers like it was the most natural thing in the world.
The moment his hand wrapped around hers, she melted.
"You're persistent."
She gave him the tiniest pout. "You sighed like I was a handful."
"No." He said. "I sighed because you're bold when you want something."
Her face burned.
Without thinking, she leaned into his side, pressing her cheek against the curve of his bicep like she was trying to sink into him.
"W-well, you make it hard not to want more," she mumbled.
"Mn," he hummed. "I'm starting to notice that."
Her fingers tightened slightly around his.
"You're quieter than usual," he added after a pause. "That only happens when you're thinking too much."
"Maybe I am..."
"Softheart," Shino murmured, almost to himself.
"W-What?"
“You try to act like you’re teasing me, like you’re in control,” he said plainly. “But the moment I let you in a little… You melt. Getting soft on me.”
She let out a mortified whimper. “That’s not fair…”
“No. It’s accurate.”
She huffed against his sleeve, hiding her face further. "You're too calm about all of this."
"Someone has to be."
A few moments of silence passed, her cheek still pressed against him, her hands perfectly nestled in his. She didn't want to go home—at least not to her own.
He glanced down, noticing how quiet she had become again. "Do you want to go home?" he asked, pausing before adding, "To mine."
She nodded against his arm, her heart racing in her chest. "Yeah," she replied softly. "To yours."
He didn't tease her this time. Shino simply gave her hand a gentle squeeze and continued walking, leading her there without saying another word.
-----
She had visited Shino's place many times before, but this time felt different. The quiet warmth of his home sent a buzz throughout her body, clouding her thoughts. She observed him moving with his usual precision and coolness, but something seemed off.
He took a little longer to hang up his coat; his shoulders were stiffer, and he avoided her gaze. He was deep in thought, which could only mean one thing: she was on his mind.
“You’re quiet,” Shino finally said, breaking the silence without turning around.
“So are you,” she replied, her eyes fixed on his back. “Almost like you're nervous.”
“I’m not,” he said, a little too quickly.
That made her smile. Wide and warm. He finally turned to face her, and there it was: a crack in his composure. A slight pink rising up his neck, a furrow between his brows, and a stiffness in his stance that betrayed his heightened awareness.
“You’re not used to this, are you?” she asked, stepping closer.
“Used to what?”
“Feeling like this.”
“Like what?”
She paused right in front of him, her hands moving up his arms in slow, smooth strokes. He didn't grab her, but she could feel him tensing, breathing harder, and trying to maintain control.
She leaned in, brushing her lips over the shell of his ear and blowing gently. “Like I’m all you’ve been thinking about.”
He didn’t deny it. Didn’t flinch. But his lips parted, and nothing came out.
She had never seen Shino like this—so contained, so unreadable. And now, here he was, flustered and struggling to keep his calm. All because of her. It was adorable and undeniably hot. She couldn’t stop the small grin tugging at her lips.
“You’re usually better at hiding it,” she said softly, stepping closer.
“I’m not used to being looked at like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like I’m not allowed to breathe wrong, or you’ll pounce on me.”
She chuckled softly, a hint of guilt in her tone. “Then I suppose I’m being a bit too obvious.”
“Blatantly.”
He shifted to the couch, leaning back with his legs slightly spread. His hand extended in invitation, not demanding, simply open. “Come here,” he said, his voice dropping to a lower, huskier timbre.
She walked over and placed her hand in his. With a gentle yet firm pull, he guided her into his lap. Her palms rested against his chest for balance, their faces mere inches apart. One hand slipped to her hip while the other cradled her lower legs. Her hands moved tentatively to his shoulders, wrapping around the back of his neck as if anchoring herself to him.
Even in this intimate moment, he fought to maintain his composure, yet she caught the faint blush blooming under his cheekbones, the subtle hitch in his breath, and felt his thumbs drawing slow, soothing circles on her hip and leg as if to keep his own calm amidst the rising tension.
She leaned in and softly kissed his cheek, lingering longer than necessary. She repeated the gesture, each time gently sucking at the skin beneath his cheekbone. This finally earned her a reaction: a sudden inhale, his jaw tightening, and his thigh twitching beneath her. “You should know…” she breathed out, “I’m absolutely planning to ruin your concentration for the rest of the night.”
He exhaled slowly through his nose, but she could feel his heart racing beneath her palm. She pulled back slightly and caught a glimpse of his restraint snapping, just a little. Now he held her close, as if he had been denying himself that right for far too long.
She gasped softly, thrilled by those hands on her, finally touching her the way she had been craving. He looked up at her, his jaw tight, ears slightly pink, and eyes heavy with desire. Without a word, one of his hands slid up to cradle her face. His thumb brushed her cheek, his palm warm. Then, he kissed her—slow, deep, and sensual. It wasn’t rushed or messy; it was the kind of kiss that made one feel chosen, as if all his silence was finally being transformed into something tangible that she could feel.
She whimpered against his mouth, losing her composure and melting completely. Unable to withstand even a simple kiss, she deepened it, asking for permission as she flicked her tongue against the seam of his lips. He granted it. His lips parted, and the moment their tongues touched, he groaned—deep and low, like the sound had come from a place he didn’t mean to share.
Their mouths moved in sync, tongues tangling, hot, wet, and slow. It was the kind of kiss that made her spine arch, fingers dig into his shoulders, and her whole body ache. He wasn’t gentle anymore. He was assertive, pulling her tighter, while her fingers found his hair, tangling and tugging, needing more of him.
Finally, she pulled back, panting softly, her lips swollen and her chest heaving. Saliva glistened on her lips, a thin thread still connecting them as the kiss broke. She didn’t speak; she couldn’t. The way he tenderly touched her burning cheek after their heated make-out session, his thumb brushing gently along her face, left her breathless.
She shifted off his lap, her breathing hitching when she felt it: his arousal, pressing and undeniable evidence of how much he wanted her. If Shino thought she was already needy before, he better guess again.
"You're already this worked up?" she teased softly, her voice dropping to a whisper. She stared at him in a daze, one of her hands cupping him through the fabric, feeling the heat of him—hard and heavy—beneath her palm.
He groaned, stripped of pretense, tilting his head back as he exhaled deeply, shaking it slightly. “You’re... overwhelming.”
“Good,” she replied, her lips still pressing against his cheek with a mischievous smile.
As he spoke, Shino surrendered to her lead, allowing her to explore him freely. Her palm glided slowly, pressing against him through his pants in a rhythm that ignited a trembling response in both of them. Instinctively, her thighs pressed together, seeking friction in a desperate dance fueled by an insatiable need. The warmth pooling low in her stomach intensified, becoming almost unbearable, while her overwhelming desire yearned for recognition, even as her attention remained focused on him.
His reaction—slack-jawed and with eyes darkened by barely contained control—told her everything she needed to know. She had breached his defenses, undoing him just enough to glimpse the depths beneath his cool, quiet exterior. But she wasn’t finished yet.
“Does it feel good?” she asked, pressing a loving kiss to the corner of his mouth while her hand continued to move slowly and firmly.
He exhaled a soft, guttural sound caught between pleasure and awe. "You're dangerous when you're like this."
She giggled at the vulgar expression he was providing under her sweet touch. His mouth searched for hers, deepening the kiss with a hunger that matched her own. She moaned into his mouth, his tongue brushing hers as she felt his hand gliding between her thighs, his touch ghosting up the inside of her legs.
She didn’t expect him to be so bold; this wasn’t like Shino. But the heat of his touch, the quiet authority in the way he curled his fingers just under the edge of her clothes, past the soaked fabric of her panties, made her gasp. She quietly tried to conceal her burning face, using her free hand to muffle her shaky breath as his finger teased the edge of where she was dripping for him, just enough to have her knees shake and stay apart.
He didn't say anything at first, simply grabbing the hand that was muffling her and pinning it to her side before continuing to kiss her. His long, thick fingers explored her heat deliberately, circling slowly at her throbbing bud, teasing her reactions. Learning every twitch, breathless moan, and the way her hips rocked in response.
And still, her hand didn’t stop. She pulled his cock free, stroking him slowly as she left kisses all over his neck, leaving hickeys on his pale skin. She loved the way his face was already red, his breath ragged from gasps.
"Goodness, you're so hard for me, Shino," she murmured, her voice a mix of awe and seduction. "I love how you respond to my touch."
She was relentless, stroking him slowly, her thumb circling the sensitive tip, spreading the bead of precum that had formed there. She could feel his body respond, his hips rocking harshly as she rubbed the tip of his cock, teased the slit with no mercy, and slipped a hand under his shirt. Brushing a palm over the warm skin of his stomach, her fingers trailed higher to what made her breath catch: firm, defined muscles. All of it, toned.
Her eyes widened slightly as she pushed his shirt up and revealed smooth skin, the hard cut of his torso, and the distinct outline of his abs.
“What the hell…” She whispered, stunned. “You’ve been hiding all this under those big coats?”
Shino looked away, clearly flustered. But she couldn’t help herself. Her hand roamed higher, reverent and hungry, smoothing over his chest. She leaned forward, lips brushing the center of his chest, and tilted her head, her mouth finding his nipple, her tongue teasing before drawing it gently between her lips.
He gasped, sharp and barely restrained. One of his hands flew to her waist again, gripping tight. She sucked softly, slow and deliberate, then grazed it with her teeth just enough to make his breath stutter.
“You’re really full of surprises,” she murmured, her lips brushing his skin.
She kissed lower, then returned to his chest, pressing open-mouthed kisses along every inch she uncovered, tasting him, adoring him. His fingers were thick, so much thicker than she expected. Long and strong, calloused just enough to make the drag of skin against her most sensitive places send sparks throughout her body. Every stroke made her clench around nothing. Her hips ground down against his hand, instinctively chasing friction, but all it did was make her more aware of how big his hands were and how warm and how utterly perfect they were pressed between her thighs.
"S-Shino~ I think about your hands too much," she breathed, not even realizing the confession was spilling out. She continued to stroke his meaty length. "What they'll feel like... touching me like this. How strong they are and how thick your fingers are..."
Her own words made her shiver and made him still for half a breath before his fingers moved again. Going deeper this time, past her puffy folds and sinking into her warm, slick heat.
"So this is what you've been thinking about," he murmured, low and unbearably pleased. "All that babbling. All those excuses to stay late... just waiting for my hands?"
She nodded wordlessly, her nails digging into his bunched-up shirt as her own hand slowed, unable to focus while he thrust two fingers deep within her. "And now that you have them?" he asked, dragging his fingers against her G-spot. "Is it everything you imagined?"
"Yezch..." she slurred out pathetically.
Shino chuckled at her sex-dazed face, unable to help himself from gripping her chin and bringing her forward to leave open-mouthed, passionate kisses. His tongue swirled around hers as moans left her lush lips. Shino's hands weren't idle either. He was beginning to know her body like the back of his hand, and he used that knowledge to drive her wild, his touch sending waves of pleasure crashing through her, milking him for everything he was worth.
As her eyes rolled to the back of her head, she pressed her upper body so close that her breasts pressed against his chest while his fingers were still between her thighs, continuously getting aggressive pounding. There was no denying the slick, steady heat that covered his fingers, not just damp but dripping. Soaking through her underwear and trailing down the inside of her thighs and into his palm as he cups her firmly.
"Dripping," he muttered to himself, staring in awe at the aftermath in his hand. "All this... just for me?"
"Hm..." She couldn't even find the words to respond, her thigh trembling from the way he stroked her with a touch that felt more possessive than teasing. But she wanted more. Now she desired to see him unravel.
Biting her lip when feeling his hip thrust up into her hand, seeking more friction. The way she could feel his cock throbbing, his body trembling with need. She squeezed the base of his length, feeling him pulse and twitch in her grip.
She leaned in, her lips firmly grazing his earlobe as she commanded, "Not yet, Shino. You’ll wait until I say so." He released a low growl, his body trembling with the struggle to contain himself. She sensed his desperation, his need, and it only motivated her further. She was determined to push him over the edge, eager to watch him shatter in her hands.
She loosened her grip from the base of his shaft, her hand moving with a purposeful, unyielding rhythm. Her thumb traced circles around his sensitive tip, alternating between long, slow strokes and short, teasing ones, feeling him leak and slick his hard length. "You're so close, aren't you?" she murmured, sensing his body tensing, his breaths coming in ragged, desperate gasps. She knew exactly how close he was.
Leaning in, her hand wandered to his chest, her fingers dancing over his nipple, teasing it until she felt it harden and twitch under her touch. She began to play with it, tugging, rolling, and toying with his sensitive pecs while her mouth trailed kisses along the side of his neck and jawline. She reveled in the way his muscles jumped under her hands, the way his thighs tensed every time she pinched. She licked his nipple, slow and wet, drawing it out, and he groaned deeply, his chest arching into her mouth involuntarily.
And with that, he was undone. His body tensed, and with a final, firm stroke, the girl of his dreams pushed him over the edge. He came undone, shooting ropes of cum onto her hand, a hot, messy release.
They both subsided then, their bodies entwined, breaths syncing as they came down from their high. When she pulled back to look at him, she saw it: eyes heavy-lidded, head leaned back, and a thin strand of drool slipping from the corner of his parted lips. He was so lost in the sensation of her that his body had stopped pretending. Every breath was ragged. Every twitch of his hips beneath her was pure instinct, not thought.
She bit her lip, watching him drool from the intensity of his pleasure. The sight was intoxicating. She leaned in, slowly swiping her thumb over the drool on his jaw, tilting his face to meet hers. He blinked, dazed, finally noticing the intimate smirk that played on her lips.
“You’re drooling, baby,” she whispered, her lips brushing his cheek, her voice thick with desire.
His eyes widened for a split second, then flicked away, embarrassed, like he hadn’t meant to let go that far. “You—” he exhaled, his voice broken. “You’re… relentless.”
“Only because you’re so damn sexy when you fall apart,” she whispered, kissing just beneath his ear. “You’re letting me feel all of you. It’s turning me on like crazy.”
She felt his cock twitch, knowing she had him right where she wanted him. Looking down at the semi-hard member still in her hand, she was shocked to see a mixture of his bugs in his cum.
She gasped, her eyes wide with fear. "Oh my God! I killed them!" Panic surged in her voice, and Shino could sense her distress.
With a gentle smile, he took her hand and pressed it to his chest, allowing the bugs to reembed themselves with him. "They're fine," he reassured her softly, hoping to calm her racing heart. "Are you sure?" she asked, uncertainty still flickering in her gaze.
"I promise," he said tenderly, kissing away her worries with a gentle touch of his lips against hers. "Now, where were we?" he asked, his voice deepening with warmth and affection, ready to ease her fears.
-------
The room was enveloped in darkness, the only light coming from the gentle glow of the moon outside. In that moment, it felt like enough.
The air was heavy with anticipation, filled with the sweet scent of their shared desire. Her heart raced as she followed Shino, a blend of longing and nervousness coursing through her. She could sense the tension in his muscles, a reflection of their unspoken connection, as he guided her toward his bedroom.
Standing at the foot of his bed, she felt a whirlwind of emotions. As his long-time friend and secret admirer, this was a moment she had dreamed of but was now filled with a mix of hope and vulnerability. With a soft, sincere whisper, she poured out her heart: "Shino, I can't hold back any longer. I want you. I've always wanted you. And now, it feels like we finally have the chance to be together."
Shino's response was a mere whisper, but it held a world of meaning: "Then take off my clothes."
Her hands shook with anticipation and nervous energy as she complied, her fingers tracing his skin as she slowly peeled away each layer of clothing. She took a moment to admire his body, her eyes roaming over his toned chest rising and falling rapidly with each eager breath, his nipples hardening under her gaze, and the defined abs that led her eyes down to his hips.
Shino stood before her, completely exposed and vulnerable, his cock hard and ready, the tip glistening with pre-cum, a testament to his arousal.
With a soft, encouraging smile, Shino reached out, his fingers gently brushing against her cheek. "Now, it's your turn," he whispered, his voice a mix of shyness and raw desire.
Her heart pounded in her chest as she quickly began to undress, her clothes falling to the ground in a soft heap. She stood before him in just her panties, her body flushed with arousal, her nipples tight and aching for his touch.
With a playful yet determined smile, she gently pushed him onto the bed. Shino's eyes were glued to her as she hooked her fingers into the waistband of her panties and slowly slid them off, her arousal glistening on her thighs. She straddled him, her soft, thick thighs pressing against his hips as she leaned down to kiss him, her body shaking with anticipation. She ground against his erection, feeling his length press along her entrance, both of them moaning at the contact.
Shino's eyes fluttered shut, his head jerking back as a low, guttural moan escaped his lips. "This...this is my first time," he confessed, his voice filled with shock and vulnerability, his face a picture of nervous excitement.
She paused, surprise and tenderness washing over her. She had known Shino for a long time, aware of his introverted nature and his tendency to keep to himself, but the idea that he was a virgin had never crossed her mind.
A profound sense of tenderness and protectiveness enveloped her. She offered him a soft, reassuring smile, her thumbs gently circling his wrists as she held his hands and rested them against the bed frame. "It's okay, Shino. We'll take this nice and slow," she whispered, her voice filled with sincerity and love.
Seeing the genuine care and desire reflected in her eyes, he nodded slightly, a small smile playing on his lips. With newfound confidence, she reached down, positioning him at her entrance. She ran his length along her slick folds, coating him in her wetness, before finally, slowly sinking down onto him. They both moaned deeply as he filled her, inch by inch, the sensation intense and overwhelming. His virgin cock stretched her, the pace slow and deep, allowing them both to savor every second of their connection.
Shino let out a low cry, his body trembling with need and anticipation.
"Please," he begged, his voice hoarse with desire. "I want to touch you. I need to feel you."
She shook her head, a wicked smile playing on her lips as she leaned down and captured his lips in a heated kiss, her tongue exploring his mouth as she continued riding him.
"Hmm," He moaned into her mouth, his hips bucking up to meet her movement, his cock throbbing inside her with a primal intensity. She could feel her own arousal coating him, the wet sounds of their union filling the room like a symphony of desire. Shino's breath came in ragged, desperate gasps, his body trembling with the effort of holding back, every muscle taut and ready to explode.
Breaking the kiss, she pulled away, her breath coming in short, panting gasps. Her hands still held his in a firm grip, confining him to her will. "You still want to touch me?" She teased, her voice breathless and laced with a playful challenge. "Still want to feel my curves, don't you, Shino?"
Loving the way his eyes darkened with desire and his eager nod, she leaned in to nip at his earlobe, her voice a sultry whisper. "Then beg for it."
"Please," Shino pleaded, his voice shaking with urgency. "I just need to touch you, to understand that I'm not dreaming. Just for a moment, I beg."
Her heart swelled with a mix of triumph and affection, seeing him so utterly consumed by her. She released his hands, allowing him to wrap his arms around her, pulling her down to him completely. Shino's hands roamed her body with a newfound hunger, exploring every curve, his touch gentle yet firm, as though committing every inch of her to memory.
"Shino~" She moaned, her body arching into his touch as she continued to move her hips, their bodies slick with sweat and desire. She felt one of his hands cup her breast, his thumb brushing over her nipple, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to her core.
Taking advantage of her momentary loss of control, Shino, with a newfound confidence and strength, flipped them over. He positioned her legs on either side of his arms, opening her fully to him. With a growl, he began to pound into her, his hips moving with a primal rhythm, his cock sliding in and out of her with ease, her juices overflowing around him. He thrust into her with purpose, his hips moving in a rhythm that left both of them breathless, the sound of their bodies slapping together filling the room.
Leaning down, his hot breath against her ear, he whispered sinful, dirty words, his voice a low, growling purr. "You're so tight, so wet for me. Your body was made for mine. Made to take my cock, to milk me for every last drop."
She was amazed at how this once-virgin boy could take control so effortlessly, his body moving with a grace and power that left her spellbound. “Shino," she moaned, her nails digging into his back, leaving red marks on his skin as she held on for dear life.
His weight pressed her into the mattress as he gripped her ass, his fingers digging into her soft flesh, leaving bruises on her skin.
"Then let's stop pretending we're afraid of it," he declared, his words hitting her like a lightning bolt. They pierced through her clouded mind. This is what she wants: the bold honesty she had longed for and desired.
With a sudden, powerful thrust, he pull her body deeper onto his cock with each movement. Her body stretched to accommodate his full eight and a half inch length as her orgasm built, her body tensing and toes curling as waves of pleasure crashed through her, her cunt milking him for all he was worth.
And Shino followed soon after, his body shaking as he buried himself completely, holding her body against him, his cock throbbing deep inside her, shooting load after load of his hot, thick seed into her willing, eager hole.
With a final, powerful thrust, he collapsed on top of her, their bodies slick with sweat, as their breath came in ragged, satisfied pants.
In the aftermath, the room was filled with a thick, heady scent of sex and sweat, the air heavy with the evidence of their passionate encounter. Her fingers lazily combed through Shino’s damp hair, gentle and slow. He lay sprawled across her, head resting over her chest, arms around her waist, fully relaxed in a way she’d never seen before.
She sighed softly, her other hand trailing along the curve of his back, fingertips brushing the dip of his spine.
“That was… amazing,” she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath. A little stunned. A little dreamy.
Shino didn’t say anything right away. He just hummed low in his throat, nuzzling deeper against her skin, his breath warm against her chest. His grip around her waist tightened, like he wasn’t ready to let go. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
"You're so sexy," she confessed, her voice filled with desire and admiration.
Shino blinked. Sexy? Him?
Not precise. Not disciplined. Not reserved. Sexy.
That was not a word he was used to hearing attached to himself.
A surprised breath escaped him, followed by a soft laugh, a warm, low sound from the base of his throat.
She pouted instantly.
“Why are you laughing at me?”
He shook his head slowly, eyes meeting hers, unreadable and soft at once. His lips curved with quiet amusement.
He lifted his head just enough to look at her, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, so rare, playful, and dangerous in how devastatingly soft it made him look.
“Because,” he said quietly, “you’re still watching me. And completely melting from the slightest attention I’m giving you.”
She opened her mouth to argue—to deny it, deflect, or defuse.
But nothing came out.
Because he was right.
The way she trembled just from the weight of his gaze. The way she kept brushing her fingers through his hair just to feel him closer. The way her thighs instinctively pressed around his hip when he shifted against her.
He chuckled again, softer this time, and leaned in close until his lips hovered just above hers.
He whispered, "My sweet… Softheart," against her lips before kissing her. This kiss was slow and deep, unlike the teasing ones before; it conveyed his love and respect. A kiss is meant to express admiration.
She melted instantly, sighing as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Her fingers curled into his skin, as if he were something truly special. Her chest moved closer to him, and her mouth opened beneath his, as if her entire being was meant to hold him close.
When he finally pulled back, he didn’t go far. He lingered, his lips still brushing against hers, his breath warm as he looked into her eyes. She felt dazed, flushed, and was breathing shallowly.
“Shino…” she breathed, her voice trembling with desire—soft, heavy, and raw. The way she said his name and looked at him—her eyes filled with lust and affection—made it seem like he was the only thing in her world.
Desire surged through him in a hot pulse, sharp and sudden.
He felt himself harden again, the ache stirring against her thigh. The tension was undeniable and intensified with every second she locked eyes with him, a clear indication that she wanted him again.
Shino felt his breath catch in his throat, his composure fraying with each moment that passed. His voice emerged low and gravelly, charged with an undeniable intensity.
“Then say it.” His gaze was steady and unwavering, reflecting the powerful pressure of his body against hers. “Tell me you want me…”
The air between them thickened, pulsating with desires. Her breath trembled as her hands gripped his shoulders, her heart pounding fiercely in her chest.
He stood firm, patient, and open, fully aware of the effect he had on her. He didn’t push—he didn’t need to.
This was her moment to decide.
After all the built-up tension and longing, would you really leave him in suspense, or finally express the desires that burned within yourself?
Warning: Pet names (Curvy Goddess), Confession...?, FLUFF?, Hickeys, Jealous-ish Kunigami, Missionary Position, Reader being a little bit obsessed, Blowjob, Situationship...? Basically, NSFW. 🤷🏻♀️
Also, be mindful that I didn't really mention much of the reader's appearance (besides, she's a female) since I wanted to keep it vague for everyone to relate as much as possible, though it is definitely for the more voluptuous side of ladies. 😊
Please be mindful that the photos are not mine, but the making of the collage is.
MINORS DNI!!!! 🔞🙅🏻♀️ If you're not comfortable with this, please ignore!
P.S. I write all characters over 18 and up (I should have mentioned that at the start 😅).
Kunigami Rensuke X Shy. Chubby Reader!
On Monday morning, while casually chatting with his friends, Kunigami unexpectedly realized that as they discussed their ideal partners, he noticed the shy, curvy girl sitting across the classroom, her eyes occasionally darting toward him. Seated at his desk, with his friends' chairs subtly turned in his direction, Kunigami couldn't help but feel a sense of intrigue and curiosity about the situation.
“For me, she must have a mature charm, like Sensi.” His friend with a bowled cut fawningly smiles, thinking about Sensi. And if they’re married, it just makes it even better for cheating.”
“I would say an idol,” His other friend butted in, fixing his glasses while mentioning the idol he likes. “Her singing, dancing, just everything is perfect.” It almost seemed like steam was coming out of his nostrils.
“Idols, huh?” Meanwhile, Kunigami couldn't help but snicker at the mention of idols.
This provoked the glasses-wearing friend, who suddenly stood up, slamming his hand on the desk, and demanded, "And what are you trying to say?"
“You better watch it. You never know what these idols do backstage.”
“Tsk- alright, how about you tell us your ideal woman?” He argues back.
“Well, my ideal is…” Kunigami murmurs, bringing his hand to cup his chin while he thinks.
He starts describing his ideal woman, stating that almost everything about the curvy beauty sitting across from him completely differs from his ideal type.
She is the exact opposite—a nerdy loner. She always has her head stuck in a book and consistently wears her winter uniform, complete with big black glasses and long, unstyled hair. It's a complete contrast.
“And also her personality must be…”
“There’s still more!?!?” His glasses friend said. “There’s no way your fantasy girl would ever exist like that.” He continued.
“At least ours are realistic ideals, right?” His bowl-cut friend includes.
And he knew that. Kunigami knew that no one existed exactly like he expected, yet if there were, he would fall for them in a heartbeat.
If only he knew…
--------
Unbeknownst to Kunigami, stuck in his train of thought he didn’t notice the sliding door opening, signaling someone walking in, until hearing a group of girls gushing over someone.
“So cute!”
“Did you get a boyfriend?”
Glancing around to see what the girls were looking at, he noticed a girl in the center gaining all the attention.
And he couldn’t believe his eyes.
He saw her sitting there numerous times, book in hand, as her mind wandered into the world of fantasy. She was the usual plain-looking, chubby girl, but she was visibly displaying a new look—only this look was exactly what he mentioned to his friends three weeks back.
“I dig sweaters.” He had said.
And then a week later, “Short skirts are cute.”
Even the way she styled her hair matched his preference.
It was undeniably her.
She made him feel something he couldn't quite ignore.
He was captivated, unable to break his gaze from her. A dryness settled in his mouth, and he swallowed hard, fighting the rush of saliva that threatened to overwhelm him.
Simultaneously, his heart began to race, skipping a beat amid the overwhelming sensation.
As soon as she drew Kunigami in, he began to question it.
This change in her appearance—is it just a coincidence, or did she overhear what he and his friends were talking about?
And if so, why would she change her look?
And her appearance... It couldn't be linked to him... Could it?
Her eyes met his across the room, locking in a moment of unspoken connection before she flushed and averted her gaze, returning her attention to her book. Kunigami couldn't help but smile and quietly laugh to himself at the sweet, fleeting interaction.
‘Cute.’
Ever since returning from Blue Lock, Kunigami has undergone a noticeable transformation. The experience has left a lasting impact on him, altering his perspective and demeanor.
The feeling of not being chosen and facing disqualification left him shattered. Soccer had been his ultimate passion and the central focus of his prime years. He aspired to be a source of inspiration for countless young aspiring athletes, but now he found himself at a crossroads, needing to seek a new career path.
He could always be a firefighter.
With him so focused on wanting to become a soccer player, he didn’t have time to socialize with his friends or interest in girls.
But now…
Strangely, Kunigami can’t seem to keep his eyes off a particular curvy beauty.
And that’s precisely what he couldn’t stop doing for almost the whole week until finally, Friday came around.
The school bell rings, signaling the final class of the day has finished.
Everyone is beginning to pack up and get ready to go. Kunigami walks toward one of his friends and says, “Yo, Yuuta, do you want to hang out?”
“Sato-kun! Please come with me to the student counseling room.” There, Sensi cuts in.
“Okay!” The bowled cut hair happily said, following after his teacher.
“And you, Daisuke?” Kunigami asks, turning to his glasses friend.
“Actually, I got tickets for my favorite idol concert. So I can't go.”
As his friend turned to leave, Kunigami nodded slightly and offered a small, understanding smile. "Ah, okay," he said softly, his gaze following his friend as they walked away. "See you around."
‘Everyone seems to have already left…’ He gingerly rests his hand on the polished surface of his desk, running his fingers along it as he double-checks for any forgotten items. As his gaze sweeps across the room, it falls upon a woman with alluring curves seated in her customary spot.
Since the start of the week, Kunigami has been inexplicably fixated on her, following a noticeable transformation. He is also captivated by the presence of two other girls who surround her.
One of the girls turned to the curvy beauty with a hopeful expression, a hint of desperation in her voice. "Hey, could you do me a huge favor and cover for me this time? I know we're both supposed to be on cleaning duty, but you'll really be doing me a huge solid."
He could tell just by the shy girl's face that she was reluctant to agree.
“I-I guess I could…”
The group of girl's excitement overflowed as one exclaimed, "Yes! Thank you so much. I owe you one big time," beaming with gratitude. Her joy spread to her friend, who followed close behind, both wearing bright smiles.
Meanwhile, the shy girl let out a heavy sigh as she closed her book and began to tidy up the room.
‘What the hell? Why didn't she say no?’ He thought to himself, feeling unjust that the other girls had left her to clean alone.
"Damn it,” Kunigami couldn't bear to leave her there by herself.
She was suddenly startled by a loud thud from behind. As she turned around, she saw the man she longed for, dropping his bag and hastily overturning a nearby chair onto the desk.
"Kunigami-kun, what are you doing here?" She inquired, her voice tinged with shyness as she nervously gestured with her arms.
Hearing her say his name for the first time sent shivers down his spine.
"Uh yeah, I saw what happened. It was unfair for them to abandon you to handle all the work alone. You should have refused," He continued, methodically arranging the chairs. "Besides, I had nothing else to do."
Nervously, she bit her lower lip. Her eyes caught for a second his muscular biceps flexing under the short-sleeve bottom-up he wore as he lifted a chair with zero effort.
She swiftly tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear before turning back around. A mix of relief and gratitude washed over her at his unexpected act of kindness and also a shame for catching herself lusting over his sexually frustrated physique.
She endured the relentless silence as they cleaned, each movement grating on her nerves. For more than a year, Kunigami Rensuke had consumed her thoughts. She had gone to great lengths to catch glimpses of him, whether watching him play soccer, following him through the hallways, or stealing glances at him during class.
However, just as she was planning to confess her feelings with an envelope at hand, she received the devastating news that Rensuke was going to be away for a bit. The opportunity slipped through her fingers, leaving her to feel uncertain of when she would ever see him again.
As the days stretched into weeks and then months, she was irresistibly drawn to the vacant seat where he once sat. The memories of his presence, the sound of his voice, and the warmth he exuded lingered in her mind, making it impossible for her to avert her gaze from the void he had left behind.
One quiet morning, she settled into her usual seat with a captivating book in hand, fully engrossed in its pages. As she delicately adjusted her glasses, she turned to the next page, realizing that she was gradually adapting to life without Kunigami Rensuke by her side.
“Kunigami-sama! Long time so see.”
Her entire body tensed as the unexpected name reached her ears, causing her to tighten her grip on the book she held, feeling it crumple slightly under the pressure of her shaking hands.
‘It couldn't be,’ She thought to herself, her mind racing with disbelief. Slowly lifting her gaze from the pages, she caught her breath as her eyes met the sight of an incredible man who made her heart flutter uncontrollably once more.
As he walked past her desk to join his friends, who were eagerly calling him over, she couldn't help but feel her buried emotions resurfacing, sparking a new sense of purpose within her.
As she walks to the closet, she hangs the broom on its hook. When she goes to put away the dustpan, it slips from her hand and falls to the ground. Unbeknownst to her, someone hears the noise, looks over, and catches a glimpse of her bending over to pick up the dustpan, unintentionally revealing her panties.
"Ah!" Startled by the sudden surprise, Kunigami, with a chair at hand, doesn't see where he is going, causing a loud crashing sound behind her.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, truly," he insisted, his tone unwavering even as he struggled to steady himself. He took a deep breath, attempting to exude confidence as he rose to his feet, a slight wobble in his knees betraying his composed façade. His attention was momentarily diverted by an uncomfortable warmth at his nose, where a thin stream of blood had begun to trickle, leaving a crimson mark on his shirt. He glanced at her, desperate to assure her that everything was okay, unaware of the evidence of his struggle.
"Here, take this." She offered her napkin shyly.
"Ah, thank you." He bashfully accepted the napkin, a hint of a blush appearing on his cheeks as he nervously scratched the back of his head and averted his gaze.
As she gracefully walks away, he raises his hand to wipe his nose absentmindedly. Still, as he does, he is suddenly captivated by the delicate and appealing fragrance lingering on the cloth. He finds himself pausing, drawn to the fabric as he inhales the alluring scent, each breath deeper than the last, succumbing to its intoxicating allure and lewd images his mind can't seem to stop fantasizing. Gosh, he’s a pervert.
It seemed as if some unseen force, perhaps fate itself, was deliberately tempting him, urging him to pay attention to details he had previously overlooked. Amidst all these captivating details, she stood out as the most enchanting.
With the chalkboard eraser at hand, she goes to do the last task of wiping down the board but can't reach the very top.
“Almost.”
She goes on her tippy toe, nearly reaching the top, but still can barely make it.
“What am I going to do with you.”
A more substantial hand, resting against her elbow, moved across her arm and up her hand, clutching the eraser with painstaking care. The unexpected hand, which also rested against her arm, gave her the sensation of robustness and comfort.
“Here, let me.” He leaned toward her, and she could feel his warm breath brush against her ear as she finally allowed him to take the eraser and finish wiping what was left on the board.
“Thank you, Kunigami-kun.”
Her heart pounds in her chest as she turns around and devours Rensuke with her eyes.
How his scent lingers surrounding her body—intoxicating her.
His auburn eyes gave away something she didn't know she would see directed toward her—the look of desire driving her to bite her lower lip.
His gaze flitted between her enigmatic eyes and the enticing fullness of her lips, which she habitually teased with gentle bites. The moment she caught sight of the deepening shadows in his irises, the playful nibbling paused, leaving an electric tension hanging in the air.
Suddenly calling her name, Kunigami spoke, “Want to come to my place?”
As Kunigami gently closed the door behind him with a soft click, silence enveloped the room, amplifying the tension in the air.
Shyly gesturing for her to join him on the bed, where they settled side by side, their bodies close yet each lost in their thoughts, fingers fidgeting nervously with the fabric of their clothes. The moment's warmth was overshadowed by a palpable sense of embarrassment as they dared not meet each other's gaze, both acutely aware of the unspoken emotions swirling around them.
But this didn't deter them, they were drawn to each other. Their pinkies grazed softly, igniting a spark of courage that allowed them to entwine their fingers.
Kunigami was the first to break, whispering her name as he leaned in while lifting their locked hand prompting her to peek, his gaze intense as he cradled the back of her neck with his hand, pulling her close.
Their lips finally met in a fervent kiss, sending a jolt of electricity between them. The world around them faded away, and the warmth radiating from his body enveloped her, creating a heady intimacy that wrapped them in a cocoon of shared emotion and desire.
With utmost care and respect, he treated her as a true gentleman should. She was a delicate flower, fragile and ethereal, reminiscent of fine porcelain. At that moment, his thoughts became a swirling haze, struggling to articulate the depth of his admiration for her beauty and grace.
Warm soft flesh that with every time he touches her, shivers and goosebumps travel through her body as she reacts softly whimpering and moaning for him, for more.
Pulling away for a fleeting moment, their lips parted, leaving a thin, glistening thread of saliva connecting him to the panting, curvy beauty in front of him. His mind swirled in a dreamy haze, while a shadowy intensity clouded his eyes once again.
A sudden gasp slips from her lips, as Kunigami holds her, bringing her onto his lap while he slowly moves his mouth to her neck.
He moves along her throat quickly, becoming lost in the moment. Her skin was cool and it tasted just as good as he imagined it would. Her scent filled his nostrils bringing him to a heated daze, as he thanked Faith for leading him to this moment.
"Hmph~"
Very softly he began pressing kisses downwards to the crook of her neck. Growing more confident with the kisses when seeing the curvy beauty squirming, eyes closed with a flustered expression as his mouth drew small licks to her skin.
When he got to the right spot below her ear, he felt her inhale sharply.
Slowing his kisses gently flicking his tongue out to lick at the spot, one of her hands gripping the front of his shirt, while one of his moves to cradle the back of her neck. Guiding her to tilt her head back to give him more access to the tender skin.
Beginning to focus solely on that spot, kissing and licking, then nipping lightly. Receiving soft moans from her.
Music to his ears.
She's never felt this way or experienced anything like this at all. Bodies pressed against each other, chest to chest, her thick thighs on either side of him, and his impossibly warm and solid arms comfortably caging her soft form. As though not allowing her to go.
"Ah..."
She couldn't help the butterflies that erupted in her stomach at the thought of doing this with Kunigami and being so close and wrapped around him it made her skin hypersensitive everywhere he touched.
His touch was feather-light, lazily going down to her upper thigh massaging her thigh, doing nothing in which to soothe the ache between them.
He was gentle when he bit down on her sweet spot, planting his lips around it and sucking. Slowly began to suck harder and harder, she was certain there was a mark.
Back arched, knuckles white from the tight grip she had on Kunigami’s uniform as stuttered gasps slipped from her lips.
"R-Rensuke~"
He pulled away slowly, inhaling sharply when he caught the bruise forming.
“I... Sorry. I think I went too far.” Raspily panted out, putting his forehead against the crook of her neck, his tanned, calloused fingers gripping her flesh, grasping her fabric ass, and crushing her against his chest.
“D-Dummy…”
She gently cupped the side of his face, drawing him closer. Kunigami could see the flush of embarrassment on her cheeks, her lips slightly swollen from pouting. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, reflecting a mix of longing and vulnerability as she leaned in, heart racing, to kiss this beautiful man who captivated her so completely.
“Oh-”
She cries out, feeling his hands gently knead and massage her breast.
A rough hand held her chin, forcing her to face him fully to ignite a heated kiss.
“K-Kunigami…kun -Hmph!”
"Say my name. Say my surname." He breaths between kisses.
"Uh- Rensuke!"
The sensations were electrifying, awakening every nerve as she surrendered to the strong arm wrapped around her waist. His fingers worshipped her curves, keeping her pinned to him.
He squeezed her breasts just enough to make her arch her back. Delicately drawing circles to her nipples through her shirt and bra.
Kunigami breaks from her lips, and his hand lifts her uniform shirt to her neck. The cool air hits her skin, giving her chills.
“A-Ah!” She softly moans, instinctively bringing her hand to grip his shirt.
“Cold?” Kunigami smirked.
Shyly nodding, she felt the mattress dip followed by his warm body over hers. He cups her soft titties with his rough calloused fingers, pinching her soft flesh causing them to peak even further at the contact.
Earning Kunigami a series of sweet breaths from the chubby Goddess underneath him.
She bit her lip when feeling Kunigami’s hot breath move closer to her swollen tits-covering each one in sloppy kisses, before pulling away while gently sucking in the skin.
Her hands, which had previously kept her lewd cries at bay and held up her blouse, now fisted his orange hair as his tongue traced her firm buds, writing out her name repeatedly.
She's going crazy, her tongue hanging out, her head in a daze, and her only thought is that she doesn't want her bliss to end.
“You’re perfect,” He raspy utters, taking her left nipple into his mouth and sucking it lightly, pulling it between his lips before letting it go.
"These," Kunigami moves to the right and keeps going, scraping the delicate bud with his teeth to indicate what he meant. "These are perfect."
Wrapping his lips once again around her right nipple, sucking and swirling his tongue around the juicy skin.
Soft moans and whimpers escaped her quivering mouth. She ached for this man desperately. Thighs rubbing together, panties soaked by her slick as she stares back at him with those doe-like eyes of hers.
“Feels good?” Kunigami asked, popping off her tit while licking his lips.
“So good.” She hums, shyly feeling her cheeks heating up
“Are you really ok with this?” His warm, raspy voice teased her.
He slowly removed the top of his uniform, gently loosening his tie and allowing it to hang freely around his neck before unbuttoning his shirt. Each undone button showed a glimpse of his chiseled, sun-kissed skin, catching her eye and making her heart speed up.
The sight of his perfectly sculpted physique, with defined muscles gleaming under the soft light, was utterly intoxicating. It clouded her thoughts and left her completely spellbound in his presence.
“It's ok… Because I want this too.” She confessed, doe-eyes visibly showing the desire she craved to receive from this man that it seemed like her irises were heart-shaped.
Damnit.
This wasn't good for Kunigami.
Why did you have to be so adorable?
With a warm, comforting grin that displays his adoration, Kunigami bends down trailing a line of kisses up her neck until he arrives at her mouth. Kissing her slowly, allowing himself the time to let his tongue explore every inch of her before they make sweet love.
However, it didn't stop there.
You and your gentleman entered a casual relationship that day. This arrangement is free of strings, removes worries about infidelity, and ensures that no one gets hurt.
Experiment with various positions, including doggie, mating press, and being pinned against a wall. And if you're feeling adventurous, add some cosplay and the setting—the school—to make it more interesting. Sneaking under the stairs for a nice fuck fest or at the top of the roof entranceway, offering the greatest sloppy toppy that made Kunigami's knees shake.
He's addicted to the feeling, your mouth, tongue, hands just everything about his curvy goddess and the way she works him.
Cum and saliva dripped down the side of his length and down his balls as she sucked him thoroughly, even moaning around his flush tip for good measure. The sweet sensation overwhelmed his uncut hypersensitive dick, making him let out a hoarse moan but a soft whimper came out when she released him with a wet pop noise.
She giggles at his protest, letting up and ranking her nails and leaving sweet kisses on his inner thigh.
Just thinking about all they've done kept a grin on his face.
“Yo, Kunigami, why are you grinning like crazy?”
Snapping back from his drifting thoughts, he looked up at his friends, a light blush creeping across his cheeks. “Hmm, no, it’s nothing,” he managed to reply, his voice slightly hesitant. He sat at his favorite spot atop his desk, a clutter of books and notes forming a protective circle around him, while his friends gathered around, their laughter and chatter creating a warm, familiar atmosphere.
Yet that didn't stop Kunigami from drifting back, thinking about what he’d do with the sexy beauty tonight.
‘Maybe we can try some cosplay today?’
Usually, she sat in her assigned seat across the room, deeply engrossed in a book. Today, however, that seat was strangely empty, and Kunigami felt puzzled. His curiosity was piqued when he caught a glimpse out the window. There, standing beneath the cherry blossom tree, was the curvy beauty he had been searching for. But she wasn’t alone; standing opposite her was a male student he had never seen before.
They were lost in a conversation that felt like a secret, their words just beyond his reach. The mystery twisted in his gut, a relentless urge to know what was being said.
‘Who is that guy?’ he thought, a whirlwind of unease brewing inside him.
It should be stirring something deep within him, driving him to drop everything and rush to her like a man starved for connection. He ought to be showering her with compliments, easing her worries whenever she asks if he appreciates what she’s doing for him. Yet here he is, slumped in his desk chair, tangled up in his thoughts, hesitating.
“Is he her boyfriend?” The question lingered in the air, weighted with unspoken possibilities, stirring a mix of curiosity and jealousy that kept him on edge the entire time. He struggled to focus in class and at home, especially with her posing on his bed in his soccer jersey.
Kunigami tried to reassure himself that it was just a situationship—nothing serious, nothing to worry about. Yet, with every passing moment, that gnawing feeling of jealousy consumed him. What if she found someone who cherished her even more than he did?
No, he couldn’t let those thoughts spiral out of control.
Kunigami was sitting on the bed with her above him, legs wrapped around his waist and arms around his neck.
“Hey… that guy you were with earlier, by the cherry blossom trees… is he your boyfriend?” He glanced at her, searching for any sign in her expression.
Her heart raced at the intensity of his gaze.
“It’s okay; you can tell me if he is,” he added, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear and brushing his fingers against her cheek in a tender yet questioning gesture.
She was taken aback, her emotions boiling just below the surface. How could he be so oblivious to the depth of her feelings for him? Frustration coursed through her veins, and she fought to steady her breath. Did he truly not see what was right in front of him?
“I swear you're so dense, Kunigami-kun…” she muttered. Kunigami caught off guard, tilted his head to the side as she suddenly grabbed either side of his face and kissed him, initiating a full-on makeout session.
Of course, he didn’t pull away; he could never do that. As they broke the heated kiss, he steadied her on his lap, still in shock. “W-What?” he stammered.
“You dummy! I wouldn’t do this with anyone I didn’t love!” she exclaimed, her voice a mix of frustration and vulnerability. “Didn’t you notice how much I’ve changed because of you? Every time you share your thoughts on your ideals and dreams, I listen intently, hoping to absorb your passion and make it a part of who I am. I want to become someone you can finally see and appreciate before you leave me again. That’s why I…."
Her voice trailed off as she noticed his flustered expression, his cheeks dusted with a pink hue. Realization dawned on her, and she became shy, trying to come up with an excuse for her sudden confession.
“Ah- no. W-What I mean…”
“What’s this feeling of relief?” Kunigami thought, realizing how happy he was that someone had fallen for him. It was especially surreal coming from the curvy beauty who had essentially confessed to loving him even before he left for Blue Lock.
“-Ah!” A gasp cut through her throat at the swift motion, she’s pressed against the mattress with Kunigami hovering over her.
“What is it Kunigami-Kun?”
“Sorry…”
He confidently pulls her legs toward him, his lips brushing against the delicate anklet adorning her ankle. Their eyes lock, and at that moment, the air is charged with an undeniable energy, awakening a thrilling response deep within her.
“Sorry for not noticing.”
Giving a final kiss at the tip of her toes, before he wrapped her legs around his waist, tugging him closer to her and her slick heat.
Feeling the dizziness swirl in her head and the world around her blur, she caught sight of Kunigami. His hand was firmly wrapped around his cock, and the way he stroked it was both deliberate and intense, drawing her attention like a magnet until he bumped the head of his cock against her, pressing right at her swollen bud, responsive to his every move.
A low groan pulled from his throat with each inch of him she was able to take. A small roll of his hips had her sobbing and wiggling to get more of that delicious friction she ever so desired.
His hips leave hers, only for a second before slamming back against hers again, glistening juice leaving a connected thread that snaps against his own trimmed pubic hair.
Every slow action feels excessively slow for their desperate selves, yet each is deliberate. They understand how to prolong their pleasures and know the right spots to make them come undone.
Yet Kunigami held back, pretending he wasn't just as desperate for her, as if he truly had the self-control he feigned in her presence. And yet he wanted to throw all that away to throw her legs over his shoulder and fuck her in a mating press until they both passed out.
He just wants to make her completely his.
Shifting his angle, his cock was thrust deep inside of her, slow yet powerful, pleasure building and rising.
"I won’t allow you to rest."
“Me too.”
The building in her belly reached a feverish pitch. Her abdomen became unbearably tight, her walls tightening around Kunigami’s cock, squeezing him and making him sigh in pleasure.
In a daze, she feels Kunigami's lips meet hers, igniting a passionate kiss that leaves no room for hesitation. She firmly locates his hands, grasping them with purpose as they connect in an exhilarating moment that demands attention.
The sound of skin slapping against each other was deafened by her cries of ecstasy. She whimpers, eyes rolling back and legs shaking, “Hm! I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna…”
Mind going blank, lewd moans and ears ringing, her body finally succumbed to the pleasure he brought her. Her cunt clamped down on him, milking him for everything he got and forcing him deeper by insisting her legs remained locked around his waist as she continued to ride out her high. Kunigami nearly collapsed as a result.
He breathes her name, an impassioned and urgent appeal that hovers in the air. Their foreheads meet, and for a minute, the world melts away—it's just the two of them, their breaths intertwining. Sweat glistens on their bodies, with drips falling from his moist bangs to her chest.
“I-I love you~”
Her eyes shoot open at his confession.
“Me too. I love you so much,” she breathlessly admits, her voice trembling as she stares deep into his eyes, tears brimming in her own, shimmering like stars. With a rush of feeling, she pulls him closer, drawing him in for a kiss.
Kunigami uses this motion to slam his hips against hers one last time as he cums.
He kept himself steady as he emptied his last load, where he finally allowed himself to relax. As he enveloped her in his warm embrace, the softness of her curves pressed against him, creating a cocoon of intimacy. He felt a profound sense of comfort as if he were her safe haven, where worries melted away and only the enchanting rhythm of their heartbeats remained.
Oh, how she loves this man and how he means well with everything he's done, but with the sudden confession from the man she fell for, the heat flooded between her thighs once more.
She shifts their bodies, with her on top and a shocked Kunigami on his back. She straddles over him, Her fingers trailing along his toned chest. She gives him a lustful look and licks her lips.
“Now I believe someone owes me a night filled with restlessness; I hope it's not a lie.” She teases.
“Never.” He growls, his callus fingers digging into the fat of her thighs.
Unable to resist her anymore, Kunigami confidently grasped the back of her neck and pulled her in closer, capturing her lips in a commanding kiss that left no doubt about his intentions.
In the end, someone who is willing to love the person for who they are is Kunigami Rensuke's ideal woman.
Warning: Dirty Talk, Handjob (solo), Petname (Little Flame), Fingering (Female Receiving), Spanking, Caught, Oral sex (female receiving), Rengoku being a tease. Basically, NSFW. 🤷🏻♀️
Also, be mindful that I didn't really mention much of the reader's appearance (besides, she's a female) since I wanted to keep it vague for everyone to relate as much as possible, though it is definitely for the more voluptuous side of ladies. 😊
Please be mindful that the photos are not mine, but the making of the collage is.
MINORS DNI!!!! 🔞🙅🏻♀️If you're not comfortable with this, please ignore!
Rengoku X Chubby Reader!
Rengoku Kyojuro was definitely the golden retriever to her black cat; he was radiant, positive, and motivated compared to her aggravated, gloomy, apathetic demeanor. In all honesty, he was odd. Nonetheless, he was her master, and she was his apprentice, someone she admired and looked up to but secretly craved.
He was the sweetest man she had ever met.
Treating her so well that he made up numerous training exercises that were much easier for her, also allowing her to train graciously by his side, whipping her into proper shape. Though being a Demon slayer was no easy task, it was mentally and physically draining, often leaving her body sore and her fingers cut with callousness. Afterward, as a celebration, he would take her to eat, saying his signature phrase, “Umai!”
His unexpected, amusing outburst caused her to discreetly smile at herself while taking a bite of her rice.
When he finally took her to her first mission, Master Ren~ was there every step of the way. He supported her in every way until the demon they were hunting got the upper hand, catching her off guard. The demon was about to strike her, but a sudden thump seemed to pause that.
That thing was the demon's dismembered hand, which caused them to scream in anguish. She was so caught up in thinking about what her mentor had done that she didn't notice him moving in front of her in a battle stance. “Don't worry, I got this.”
Okay, so…her first mission wasn't the best. She even apologized for almost getting them both killed, bowing over with her face heating up in embarrassment and tears threatening to spill from her eyes.
“You’re right. That was reckless of you, but it was also irresponsible of me to think you were ready.”
“I'm sorry.” She failed her Master's.
“But with how things could have gone, I could say you did better than expected, and that counts.” He sighed, placing his hand on her head and patting it.
Why was he so nice to her when he should be lashing out? She doesn't get it but can't help her heart from beating fast.
Despite her reluctance, they are now at Butterfly Manor, per her master's directive. Miss Shinobu insists that she be confined to bed rest for days to recuperate and avoid overworking, while her mentor has gone on a solo expedition, leaving her feeling disheartened.
Thanks to the help of the sweet caterpillar triplets, she was able to heal correctly, much to her relief. With such happiness, she wanted to get back on track and improve her training with her mentor.
For that to happen, she needed to let him know she was okay.
Despite being under house arrest and having only seen Master Rengoku once, she couldn't resist the urge to visit him upon learning of his return. Even though she knew it was wrong, she sneaked through the dark corridors and stood directly in front of his chamber.
With nerves building up inside, she lightly knocks on the sliding door.
Knock
Knock
A moment passed of dead silence. No noise coming from the inside can be heard.
Feeling intrusive and not wanting to bother the man, she turns to walk away but stops mid-step when she hears faint sounds coming from his room. Overthinking the worst and believing Rengoku had been injured during his assignment or had perhaps drawn an intruder his way, she bursts through the sliding door, expecting to see her mentor hurt and struggling to bandage himself up or someone ready to strike.
Instead, she was met with his arms, keeping his upper body upward as he lay, there the gracious Flame Pillar himself, Rengoku Kyojuro, was in bed, desperately stroking his heaving member.
In disarray, the iconic uniform worn by all Demon Slayer members was noticeably absent. Instead, leaving him draped in a robe, slightly ajar, with his majestic naked body fully exposed.
Unveiling every scar she’d fantasized about feeling, running her hands down his chest and to his leaking member- though back to this embarrassing encounter.
Her lips parted, and a gasp escaped before she could contain it, expressing her surprise.
Catching the lustful gaze of her dearest mentor.
"I-I'm sorry," she blurted out before she could stop herself once again.
Before she could allow Rengoku to cover himself fully, she turned around and dashed out of the room. However, she barely made it a few steps before the baggy pajama pants she was provided caused her to trip and fall to the floor, further embarrassing her.
“Ow..” She mewled, rubbing her forehead while sitting in a W position.
Unfortunately, the situation has taken a turn for the worse.
"It seems that we've caught someone trying to sneak a peek into things they shouldn't be."
A harsh voice looming over her sent a shudder down her spine.
Her breath seized as she saw her dream guy; his formerly spiked-up hair was now unkempt, with bangs falling low and obscuring those fiery eyes that used to stare into her soul, now appeared to be undressing her with his sinful gaze and faint smile he always seems to wear.
Trailing her gaze more down, she saw his robe was still unfastened, exposing his well-built body. Continuing lower down his happy trail, Rengoku appeared to have some dignity by putting on a fundoshi, much to her relief and dismay.
The moment that sliding door closed, Kyojur was at his wit’s end.
He treats his curvy apprentice like the goddess she is, worshiping her mind, body, and soul and never once treating her anything lower than that standard. However, being the man who must train her so she could someday become a Demon Slayer has its moments where he has to be tough and rough with her so that she won't get killed if a scenario were to come.
Much to his dismay, it just happened days ago with that infuriating Demon. He expected much better from her but was caught off guard and almost killed in front of him. If Kyojuro didn't interfere, he was certain his beloved flame would have died.
So when the opportunity came to protect her, he took it, forcing her into house arrest to “Heal.” Even then, he couldn't handle that and went on a mission to distract himself from what had happened.
But even that couldn't help him.
The metaphorical leash he’s tightly held was slowly loosening from his grip.
“You are in serious trouble.” Kyojuro’s hands roughly grabbed her ass, kneading a handful of her cloth skin as he could fester, making her whimper.
“Such a bad girl, my sweet flame.”
“Whatever.” She huffed out, rolling her eyes. “It’s not my fault. I knocked multiple times, but no response.”
Kyojuro was irritated and annoyed by her sassy behavior, and he needed to take a deep breath and not let his intrusive thoughts get the best of him.
She backs away from the tall man, trying to walk away from him, but is stopped by a big, surprisingly warm, rough hand that grabs hold of the back of her neck, bringing her close. She let out a gasp, and then he took full advantage by slamming his lips down on hers.
Her arms instinctively pressed against his nude chest as her heart beat loudly on her own.
“Such lies your speaking.” He mumbles against her, grabbing her hair and pulling her head to the side to give him access to her neck.
As though sensing her need to defend herself, Kyojuro kissed her again, still hungry and desperate but more gentle than before.
“Admit it, you're a voyeur.” He whispers in her ear with a sly grin.
"What!" She whisper-shouts, her cheeks burning from shock and humiliation.
He shifts his hand from her neck to her waist, drawing her in against him while he pushes them back and toward the bed's edge. This causes her to fall back onto the bed, with one arm supporting her while Kyojuro leans over her.
She looked up at him with those dough eyes and plump lips sinking between her teeth.
That’s it, Kyojuro finally snaps.
Finally, he let go of the subconscious leash, liberating himself from the subconscious restraints.
Bringing himself forward, Kyojuro sat at the edge of his bed and took hold of one of his beautiful flame’s ankles, bringing her close to the edge of the bed to undo her pajama pants and pull them down her legs.
He took a sudden deep breath, feeling his breath catch at the astonishing sight before him.
“You’ve been naughty, my sweet blaze.” Kyojuro guided her to stand before him, resting his hands on her waist to keep her still. She rested her hands on his shoulders while staring in a longing gaze.
“I think you need a punishment.”
His hand firmly comes down against the curve of her ass, and she gasps at the contact—a slap ringing through the room.
“One!”
He smirked at her reaction, seemingly satisfied at the dark handprint quickly revealing on her skin.
“Keep count for me, k?” He softly caressed her ass with his other hand while grinning and repositioning the one that was holding her hands behind her back.
Before she could say a sentence, his free hand roughly met her ass again. The full force of his strength struck her left ass cheek more aggressively than she anticipated leaving her crying out.
“Two!”
Another slap landed on her other cheek, slightly lighter than the first two but still hard enough to take her breath away and anticipate more.
“T-Three.” She hesitated for a moment, nearly losing track of the count, but she quickly regained composure before her devoted master could take further action.
Another slap landed on her ass.
Then another.
And another.
There was a brief pause, Kyojuro letting go of her restrained hand while also allowing the throbbing soft flesh of her ass to have a break from its punishment. Rubbing a hand over the darker shade he had left, feeling the warmth it brought and much more.
“What’s this?”
Seeming to notice between her spread buttocks was a damp patch on the front of her panties. Dawning on him that his curvy beauty was getting off on this.
“You like this?” He murmurs under his breath.
Curiously, Kyojuro slips her panties halfway down her legs, caught between her lower thighs, his thick, calloused fingers spreading her folds. It's sinful how hot her wet heat is; squelching noises filled the room. “Should’ve known you'd be like this since you're a voyeur.” He chuckles to himself.
Shudders of embarrassment ran through her body. She squirmed on Kyojuro's lap and buried her flushed face in the mattress, muffling her whimpers and soft moans.
“K-Kyo…”
Yet he was stronger than her, keeping her in place as he slapped her cunt. Making her arch her back as she cries out.
His fingers bully their way inside her, and Kyojuro chuckles, feeling how her gummy walls immediately tighten around him.
Leaning down to face his sweet, precious flame, he whispered in her ear, “Looking for something bigger? Hmph~ You’ll take what I give you, whore.”
She tilted her head to the side, looking at his radiant gaze. Lust could be seen through his lidded gazes.
Scissoring her warm heat, her juice splashed with every deep thrust dripping down her thighs and to the ground.
“Ooooo~” Her mouth formed an "O" as tears welled in the corners of her eyes. Her legs trembled while she pitifully tried to hump his fingers.
“Gonna cum?” He hummed against her.
“Ugh, yessss…”
At the edge of her orgasm, about to cum so beautifully around his thick fingers, which were speeding up and sloppily beating her g spot, Kyojuro pulled his fingers out and rubbed her lower lips before he slapped her throbbing clit for good measure. Standing up and off the bed, he removed himself from his sweet, curvy beauty, quickly wanting to get rid of his undergarments.
Revealing his once again long and hard cock, springing free and in his hand, moved down to give himself much-needed friction pulling on the heaving rod.
She whines, throwing a tantrum under his gaze.
“How dare you! This is so not fair!” She pants out. Pouting at the sight of her master stroking himself in front of her, making her feel ever so desperate and needy, her warm heat once again feeling tingly and in want to finally cum.
That her right hand slowly started to make its way down to her throbbing clit, but the Flame Hashira was fast enough to grab her once again ankle and bring them upward, sliding her legs apart, keeping a firm hold on her parted thighs, and he brought his body forward and between her legs.
His sharp stare kept her in a trance.
“Don't you dare touch yourself unless I tell you to,” He growled lowly and demanded as she gasped from the sudden sensation of the tip of his member probing at her slick entrance.
She bit her lip to keep herself from moving her hips, shuddering at the restrained.
“Do I make myself clear?” He fixed his gaze, concentrating intensely on the sweet flame in his hands.
She quickly nodded her head. At this point, she couldn't go against him as much as she wanted to fight against him. She was willing to go along with whatever he wanted just to feel her sweet release.
But against her better judgment, her hips disobeyed her and moved against her will. Moving against him, his tip slid along her slick folds. One of his hands quickly went down to her doughy hip, pinning it down as he furrowed his eyebrows, his mouth hanging slightly as he inhaled sharply.
“You’re so despicable. Such a needy little slut that can't stop herself. Just want me to lay everything down and just slam my dick inside you, huh? Have your juice all over me, hmmm?”
It was only for a moment, just a moment, that he allowed himself the pleasure of his tip dragging along her throbbing bud as he spoke those sinful words to her as her eyes rolled to the back of her head.
Though only for a moment.
“But you don't deserve that. This is a punishment, after all.” That set her off, whimpering for him to continue, edging him on to continue dragging his length along her, but she was stopped by the tightly held hand on her soft hip.
Rengoku quickly yet dreadfully pulls himself off her before going down on his knees, bringing her lower half to hang off the bed and onto his shoulder and his hot breath hitting her core.
Suddenly, sniffing noises emerged from the room, shyly having the curvy beauty cover her face in embarrassment.
“You smell sweet~,” He says before placing a hand on the top of her lower stomach and the other spreading her lower fold, allowing him to kiss her pussy, causing her to whine.
“No…” She timidly sought to encourage him to move away from her lower half, reaching for his shoulder in an effort to pull him away, but he remained stubborn.
Licking her pussy and sucking on her folds, causing her to cry out and squirm under his grasp. Instantly bring her thighs together to ease the bliss she was feeling.
"Nah-huh" He fumbles to speak, too preoccupied with covering her cunt and repeatedly creating the number eight on her delicate clit, all the while firmly placing a hand over her thigh to keep them apart.
The feeling of his warm breath hitting her core and his tongue making swirls around her clit before slipping past her slick fold was a feeling she had never felt before, making her hands move to his hair, holding onto the spiky strands for her dear life.
That was his cue to nip at her delicate fold, for always trying to break him apart from his feast, causing her to let out another lewd moan.
Each touch has her gasping and her inside clenching around nothing as her legs begin to shake from the sweet torment. His strong hands on her body felt as if she was on fire as she tried to grind down against his lips, but his grip only tightened around her doughy thighs, sinking deeper into the soft flesh, and her sweet moans only seemed to grow loud at the sight of his biceps flexing.
Instinctively bringing a hand behind her to clutch onto the sheet as continuous kitten licks and sudden sloppy kisses on her pussy sent her feeling once again her sweet edge as the knot formed in her stomach and her back began to arch, catching Rengoku’s fiery stare.
While all this was happening, not once did he allow himself the pleasure of touching himself. legs knees under him with his thighs spread wide, visibly showing his weeping hard-on.
The throbbing flesh was hot to the touch, ready and dripping with pre as it twitched with every thrilling pretest and moan she dared muster in an attempt to run away from him.
He waited for the right time. The right moment to finally give the heaving rod a few strokes right as she was about to cum, wanting them both to climax at the same time.
He smears his pre around the head, encouraging him to continue around the length and down to the base.
Kyojuro slowly stroked himself, following the same rhythm he had set with his greedy mouth. Imagining his cock being the actual one doing these things. His stroke became pumps, sweeping his thumb over the tip, swallowing her with his heated eyes as she watched him intently, barely blinking.
Groans escaped his already parted lips, deep and clear rumbling through her lower half.
He was on the verge of his release as he squeezed his tip. He could feel her shuddering on his shoulder, and he used it as a sign to pick up on his rhythm for both him and her.
“I’m gonna, I’m gonna…” In a moment of desperation, she lets out a weak cry, her eyes half-closed and rolling back as she runs her fingers through his hair. In her agitation, she tugs at his hair as she reaches her breaking point.
Milliseconds before Kyojuro moaned out loud.
He shot ropes of hot cum onto the ground, momentarily closing his eyes and losing himself devouring the sweetest juice he ever tasted.
Finally, after minutes had passed, the pounding in her head made her hyper-aware of his breathing, so shallow and deeper than she ever heard it.
Pulling away and resting her lovingly on the bed, Kyojuro stood from the ground. Pins and needles ran through his legs, yet he didn't seem to care. Finally allowing himself to open his eyes, he stared at the beautiful beauty he towered over, pupils dilated and plump lips enticing, all spread out on the bed with only her pajama shirt on.
He was the first to move before she could lean up to kiss him. Crawling into bed and hovering over her with his arms supporting his weight on either side of her head, he leaned down and kissed her.
His captivating kiss carried the familiar taste of her, drawing her close to him by the neck, molding her into putty in his hands.
Warnings: Slight Yandere!Itachi, Stalking-ish (Watching her every move by his crow), Blackmail-ish, Manipulation…?, Unprotected sex, Dirty Talk, DDLG, Strangers to Lovers….?, Blowjob, Protected Anal sex, Praise kink…?, Caught-ish, Public Display, Confession...?, Possessive!Itachi (Just can’t handle seeing his boo with someone else), Size kink...?. Basically, NSFW. 🤷🏻♀️
Also be mindful that I didn’t really mention much of the reader’s appearance (Besides she’s female) since I wanted to keep it vague for everyone to relate as much as possible, though it is definitely for the more voluptuous side of ladies. 😊
Please be mindful that all photos are not mine, but the making of the collage is.
MINORS DNI!!!! 🔞🙅🏻♀️ If you’re not comfortable with this, please ignore!
Itachi Uchiha x Hussy. Chubby Reader! How she happened to stumble across the strange man one night while engaging in a late-night activity. Calmly waited in an empty cubicle while checking herself in a little pocket mirror, with a lack of a bra, she wore a size smaller crop top tee, low waist booty shorts that did little to conceal her pudge's tummy and obviously fat fupa, and thigh-high socks with the sexiest high heels that highlighted her legs. Personally, she looks hot.
When she hears knocking, she smirks, smugly licking her lips.
"Right on time," She murmurs, making her way to the locked door and opening it to grab the strange man's sweatshirt, yanking him inside and pinning him to it. Now, the dude was an average person in his early twenties who appeared to be a boring guy.
"You know the rules," She said, slowly backing away and promoting the hem of her shirt in a teasing manner. "Anal only."
Before fully lifting up her shirt til her breast slips out.
Quickly they lock lips with each other, tongues wrapping around one another while caressing his cheek.
“Ahn~!” She moans, drawing away when feeling her sensitive nipples being pinched. In a split second, she wrapped her arms around him, her shorts around her knees as he rested his hand on her chubby hips.
“Mmm… Fuck, my ass is aching for your dick.” She pants out, drawing a hand behind her and to her ass where she stuffs two of her fingers inside, prepping herself. She continues to kiss the man, slowly pulling him close to her wanting him.
Sitting on the toilet seat legs wide, ass and pussy on full display with no pants on, she seductively taunts the guy, “Alright cutie, shove that thing in me~”
Prompting him by using her hands to spread herself wider to see her gaping hole.
“Mmm… Show mommy how big you are~” Licking her lips at the sight of the tent in front of his pants, fantasized about how big his cock is until… “Oh… Wow…”
She was not expecting it to be so small much to her disappointment, quickly changing her demeanor as a fake smile spread on her face.
“You like that?”
“Oh yeah…” She plainly said over the guy's ear. With a neutral look on her face as he fucks her. “You’re so good...”
What was supposed to last 30 minutes ended up finishing 5 minutes after sensing he cum. Pulling out and discarding the used condom, she seductively goes and toys with her ass.
“You still got 25 minutes left. Don't you want to keep going?”
“Nah, I’ll be late for my next mission.”
“Oh okay.” She disappointingly said as he get ready before leaving.
After a few minutes of refreshing herself, she walks out of the bathroom stall and heads to the mirror to reapply her lipstick.
Well, that was boring, another day and another boring guy using her for his own sexual pleasure. Sure she likes being used and all, but she just wishes she could find someone who was more…exciting.
Quietly wondering if what she was even doing was worth it.
“Pardon me, but what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?” Suddenly sensing a shadow towering over her she quickly turns around.
Standing in front of her was a handsome-looking man with enchanting crimson eyes that almost seemed like they were glowing underneath them were long tear troughs. Having as well long jet-black hair that was pulled back in a low ponytail with long center-parted bangs. Overall he looks casual wearing a black shirt and pants and sandals with white leggings over them. Yet strangely he seemed to be wearing a black cloak with red clouding on them.
“My apologies, sir. I guess I was in a rush and went the wrong way. Silly me. Well, I should be leaving!” Trying to compose herself from being caught she cheerfully puts on a fake smile switching to her fake innocent persona before quickly grabbing her things and walking past the cloaked man.
“I see you put a front wherever you are. Always so polite and helpful to others. But then again, I doubt being so naive enough to make such a silly mistake.” She pauses for a moment, turning around to meet those eyes again, making her take a step back.
“How dare you speak to me that way!”
“You’re in the business of serving people, arent you? Giving them what they want. And I want something.” He said, ignoring what she said.
“Hey, listen to me! You don't know the first thing about me! Thinking I’m some hussy.” She screeched out, stomping her foot as she slowly lost her temper.
Yet he remains calm.
“Oh really?”
In a blink of an eye, he was close to her, leaning over and whispering in her ear, “You’re right. I don't know the slightest thing about you. Besides the fact that you live two different lives. One of them is helping your parents by working in your family's Dango shop, acting all sweet and innocent with a lovely smile on your face. And the other…” He pauses for a moment. “Hm. A naughty side, that would bring shame to one's clan.” She gasped, seeing the once crimson eyes with black comma patterns were now changing right in front of her eyes into a pinwheel shape.
Suddenly she could see everything he was saying, whispering every single detailed description in her ear of what no one should know yet she could see it play out in front of her. It felt like she was in a dream, one so real she thought she was really there.
Until finally coming back to reality, “How did you know it was me?”
"Let’s just say you stand out around here." He indicates while trapping her against the counter his hands resting on each side of her head. Watching her eyes wander to and away from his stare until eventually, with begging eyes and her hands clasped in a pleading stance, "My family - They can't know. It would ruin them, our business, and my family's name. Please, I'll do anything."
When she felt this strange man move close to her, placing his hands around her waist and down to rest on her ass, she gasped but cut herself off.
"I'm not one of those delicate chunin boys you select. I don't want a piece of the full thing, no-I want the entire thing."
She bites her lower lip as her body starts to tremble from the proximity of his body to hers, from him fondling her ass, and from his shameless statement.
“Where do you want me?” She shyly asked, clinging to his arm.
He backed away from her just enough to glimpse those innocent, doe-like eyes of hers and said, "On your knees."
Crouching down on her heels, she was met with an undeniable erection that was pushing against the fabric of his pants.
She gasped as she scooted closer, unfastened his belt, and saw the length slip effortlessly out in front of her.
So close to her face, and close enough that she could lean forward and use her lips to touch the quivering member if she wanted. And believe me, she does.
"I’m safe." When she looks up at him with lust-filled eyes, he utters it out while turning away. "I-I may not be big like the man you've slept with, but I will satisfy you." He spoke tentatively, still not looking at her surprised expression.
"W-Who hurt you?" She murmured this while stroking the thick member as she heard him sharply draw in.
Was he a moran? He had such a magnificent dick, so long and fat with him only being a foot away she could just lean forward and kiss the flush head.
Closing her eyes, she moves in close to the length and kisses the leaking tip before trailing kisses here and there all around the girth until finally reaching the base of his cock while looking up with those innocent eyes.
She drew away and gulped down the lovely man's entire length till it reached the back of her throat and back out after keeping him in for a solid minute with saliva trickling down her chin. As her tongue aggressively travels out, lapping his balls while deepthroating him, he couldn't help but lean on the counter to steady himself. The delightful heat travels up his body every second as he attempts to relax himself.
He was a patient man by nature, but his curvy beauty always puts him to the test. While he longed to appreciate this moment, he also sought to maintain his cool so that he didn't lose control.
Yet he has no shame.
The way her eyes rolled to the back of her head when he grabbed the back of the curvy beauty's neck as she continued to sloppily deepthroat the strange man's dick while grazing the member here and there made his mouth drop open slightly. Secretly loving the roughness that added to the sensation and brought him closer to the edge.
However, as much as he would have liked to cum in the curvy beauty's mouth, he refused.
"Ahhh~" She breathed out, her eyes rolled back, and a satisfied smile spread across her face.
Taking her by the hand, he sat her down on the counter and fondled her breasts, making her gasp.
"It appears you like it when a man takes advantage of you, exploiting you in ways you could only think of. Isn't that why you're here? You don't want just any man to ruin you. No. Just that special one." He muttered huskily over her ear, his hands expertly wrapping around her plump hips and settling on her ass.
"That’s not true, that's not true at all -!" She gasped, cutting herself off from the feeling of thick fingers kneeing her cloth cunt, rubbing into her wetness before drawing back and holding it up.
"Completely turned off, huh?" He scuffs lightly.
"Be quiet." She panted weakly.
She wanted to get even with him and was about to smack him but was stopped by him catching it and pinning it above her, trapping her between him and the cool sink.
"You're in no position to make any demands."
"And you are." She fires back.
When she noticed a little grin on his face, she gave her best bitchy face.
"I believe so. If you'll allow me, that is." She experienced a chill when he moved in close to her ear and spoke in a gruff, naturally deep voice. When she doesn't respond, he gently lifts her chin to face him, and she swallows hard.
"Hmmm... perhaps I'm getting ahead of myself." He said aloud as he started to pull away but was abruptly halted. He was delighted to see the curvy beauty holding onto his robe with tears welling up in her eyes.
"No! It’s alright!"
Her eyes widened from her unexpected outburst. She covered her mouth as humiliation overtook her. He chuckles, his hand failing to hide the faint smile appearing on his face, sending her heart racing. He draws her in close to his broad chest.
"Well then. Who am I to object to your wishes?" He commented, peering out from under her neck with a smug smile on his face.
Suddenly and expertly, the strange man flipped her over and had her lean against the sink counter with her shorts hanging around her buck knees, exposing her throbbing ass and sopping pussy.
"Even though you've made this unavailable to your customers, you want it, don't you?"
"I've never felt this-," she said, trying to glance back at him in a haze.
She abruptly cuts herself off, gasping at the startling sensation of something thick slipping in between her folds.
"Keeping this all tight for me?"
Itachi took cruel pleasure in watching her shake at the slightest brush of his dick running down along her entrance and pressed in hearing her yelp every time his tip brushed against her clit. “Do you think you're ready to take me, my pretty?”
She honestly doesn't know what's wrong with her. It’s not fair how her hands can't help but get sweaty when not even a few minutes ago she was cursing at this attractive man and now her heart is fluttering by that stupid pet name as she begs him to fuck her while trying to lift her hips so the heaving rod can just slip inside.
"Yes, sir." She eventually blurts out.
Not fair that he stands so close behind her with such a low voice grazing her ear while without warning, he thrust into her, slow and deep. Plunging full-length into her warmth and all the way down til it brushes against the entrance of her cervix.
"AHHH!" She moaned, back arched and eyes slowly rolled to the back of her head as she unknowingly was seized by the strange man's muscular chest, trapping her between the cold counter and his hot body while he slowly thrusts his hips against hers as one of his hands travels up and caresses her plump face before leaning it against the bathroom mirror. If anyone was around, they could have heard her loud, enticing shrieks, leading them to their fuck fest.
Finally pulling his upper body away, he began to move his hips faster watching the way her cunt gobbled down his dick over and over again.
‘It’s official, I’m a slut.’ She thought to herself. Believing that she hit a new level of low, allowing this attractive man to have his way with her, free of charge to keep his mouth shut. And right where any man could come in and see. She was scared to be caught yet also excited.
God, every time he slides in it felt so fucking good~
She cries in ecstasy from the sudden smacks her ass was receiving. Smack after smack echoes through the empty room and not too far along her whines and whimpers. Shockwaves after shockwaves of her pussy spasming around his length making the silent man grunt at the tightness as he tries to pull out.
Wrapping their hands together, he brought them up to knead her breast while he caress and toyed with her doughy side.
“Ahn!” She gasped, suddenly feeling the stinging of him giving her what no client is allowed to do. “Noooo…” Give her hickeys.
She could feel her thoughts numbing and fading into bliss as she continued to make sounds that a stupid bimbo is meant to make on her night out, which is getting her brains pounded out in a cramped public bathroom.
“-Nngh!” She lolled out, eyes slowly crossing.
The mysterious man began to move his hips faster watching through the mirror the way her free breast swayed by the force of his thrust. She felt so good, the way he rolled his hips against hers caused her greedy cunt to leave a nice ring of cream around the base of his cock.
“Already creaming? Well, aren't you a dirty girl, huh? A slut disguised as a lady or is it the other way around?” His vein hand that was teasing her other breast slowly made its way up and around her neck in a nice firm grip tight enough for her to understand he was the one fucking her, no one else but him.
“Yes, I-I’m a dirty girl! I’m daddy’s dirty GIRL!” She suddenly screeched. The tears that glossed over her eyes slid down her cheeks, smearing her caked face.
She was a mess, her once dolled-up face was ruined with tear streaks running down her cheek, and her once glossed-up lips were now swollen and smudged from the passionate kisses they’d shared, and from sucking this beautiful man off, she must look like a mess to this man. If only she knew how pretty she looked in his eyes.
Until unexpectedly, the strange man pulls out and turns her plump body around, setting her down on the counter with her lower half hanging off, setting one of her legs over his shoulder and spreading the other as far as it could go to get better access.
"Mhm!" As soon as he slipped in, they both gasped in ecstasy.
Hours passed as they made sweet, passionate love, taking her in many positions that made her question her flexibility. Pulling out, he turns her around to face the mirror again before wiggling her backward to snuggle up close to him. Catching a whiff of his cologne she felt herself becoming hazy as he lifted one of her legs up on the counter for support and lined her on top of his length. Shushing her gently as he heard her faint whimpers, he held her chubby waist for support while massaging her breasts and leaving trails of sloppy kisses all over her neck and bare shoulder as he made her cum once again.
Before taking her in another position. Still staring ahead in the mirror, she notices multiple hickeys on her neck, shoulder, and breast, but she doesn't have time to react because he cups her face, linking their lips together as their bodies remain intertwined together.
"Bend over, beautiful." He instructed.
Guiding her forward and face away from him, he bent her upper body down till she could see her knees, restraining her arms behind her back with one hand while sliding his cock back inside her eager hole.
She couldn't take it anymore, stuttering out how lightheaded she was while feeling the blood rush to her head and how deep he was penetrating. Having to loosen herself from his grip to support herself by touching the cool restroom floor.
Begging and panting for more.
Until finally being in a carrying position. She clings to the attractive man with nothing on except her thigh-highs and a barely hanging heel. Though he was in no better shape than she was, with lipstick marks on his neck and shoulders and around his mouth and lips, his pants hanging around his ankles, his cloak and shirt discarded somewhere, leaving him naked with arms around his neck and legs wrapped behind him, he lifts her completely off the ground while thrusting inside her.
‘Yes, this is what I want. This is what I need.’ She thought and kissed again. Each kiss feels better than the last, and their kiss grows deeper.
"My girl," The handsome man declared, making her pussy flutter around him at the idea of being his girl, his good girl. And he was aware of it.
"Yeah? Like being mine? My good girl. How about that? My good girl, my good girl, my good girl…" He chanted as he dragged his cock into her writhing walls, making sure she felt every inch of his length.
She nodded, feverishly nodding her head in approval, whines pouring out of her mouth. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, and her tongue lolled out as drool dripped from her mouth.
She couldn't envision this man saying these embarrassing things, but he did, and he said them deliciously with pride.
He paused, smoothing aside the damp hairs from her forehead before continuing.
"Do you want me to cum inside? Speak up, like a big girl. Daddy loves it when you use your big girl words." He purred, stroking her cheek and staring into her sex-dazed eyes.
“Y-YES! Yes, Daddy, I want you to stuff me full of your load -Nng!”
He chuckles as he hears her feeble whimper and sees her teary eyes. Her arms clutch his shoulders as she looks him down with gritting teeth and tears-shedding eyes before eventually feeling shy and attempting to avert her gaze yet he didn't allow her to, cupping her face and keeping her gaze on his.
"Cum with me," he huffed, drawing her face close as she nodded. They were in a trance, staring into one other's eyes and panting as he looked between her eyes and lips, touching her bottom lip before gripping the back of her neck and drawing her close for a passionate kiss.
Bouncing her on his cock, over and over again, until she notices his heartbeat rising, his length throbbing, and his breath quickening when he rips away. Fucking her fast and hard, growling in her ear about who treats her well, who fills her up like this, and who makes her cum this fucking good. And all she could say while sobbing against his mouth was that it was him, and only he could make her feel good, and of course, they both ate it up.
Their bodies stutteringly clung to each other as he thrust into her slowly and deeply, cumming. She brushes his wet bangs away and puts his face in the crook of her neck, watching his body heave as his hips thrust lazily upward while firmly holding her body close to his so she doesn't collapse.
Slowly setting her down on the counter after a few minutes yet she still clung to the man in front of her with those big flirtatious eyes, peering naively up at those glowing red ones while pouting.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing…” Looking down to hide her embarrassment, but he reaches his long finger out and beneath her chin, gently lifting her face to look at him. Silently ordering her to speak.
"So that's it then. What’s the point of all of this? For you to just leave?" It’s so unfair." She murmurs while clutching his cloak and turning away from him, not wanting this man to see her cry.
"Enough now. Have I not tormented you enough?" He was hesitant to turn her head to face him, gently cupping her chin, seeing tears running down her cheeks and staining her once dolled-up face, and he wiped it away with the sleeve of his coat.
He focused his entire attention on her. He’d never witnessed her being that submissive. Her lips were swollen from kissing, and her face was heated to the touch with half-lidded eyelids. In all honesty, she was a mess, but to Itachi, she looks absolutely stunning right now.
"Will I ever see you again? -Only if you want to...! She paused before continuing, suddenly aware that she was yelling at the stranger. " I-I mean…"
He pulled away from her to redress himself. He smiled apologetically, occasionally massaging the side of her thighs just in case she had a cramp. "We'll have to wait and see. Until then, take care of yourself."
She cries out to him just as he is about to take another step.
"Wait! Before you go, what is your name?" As she waited for his response, she sheepishly covered her chest with her discarded top.
"It's Itachi," he said, casting a side glance.
‘Itachi~’ She touched her chin and nibbled her bottom lip.
She liked how his name sounded coming out of her mouth.
Itachi made his way to the door of the restroom, where he stops to clarify something.
"By the way, no fooling around. If what you said is true in the heat of the moment, then your body belongs to me. If I find out you forgot, I won't hesitate to remind you." He said, exiting the restroom, leaving the curvy beauty speechless and awestruck after him.
Did that just happen? She had never experienced anything so vivid, yet so dreamlike at the same time. It felt so amazing that she was already missing the mysterious stranger.
As she was getting dressed something slips out of a piece of clothing and fell to the ground leaving a clinking sound after it. Kneeling down and picking up the object she observes the metal ring with the crimson center with the writing “Shu” on it. Flashbacks of the familiar ring flood her thoughts from when Itachi had his hand wrapped around her neck as she face the mirror.
He wouldn't mind her keeping the ring as a memory of their nightly passion, would he?
———————
“There you go, enjoy your meal.” She said, bowing with a kind smile on her face before leaving.
It had been weeks since their encounter, and she had returned the next night, waiting for hours to see whether she would see Itachi again. She eventually gives up and realizes that she will never see him again.
Carrying the tray of Dangos, she headed to where the cook said the diner sat until noticing the familiar ring on her right ring finger.
She had been so attached to him in such a short time that she did not dare or intend to revert to her old self. Surprisingly, swearing not to sleep around. Sure, it was entertaining for a time, but when Itachi claimed that she was his, she couldn't help but smile.
"Sorry for the wait! Please enjoy your..."
Moving aside the short noren curtains, she abruptly halted in her tracks and noticed the familiar red cloud pattern noir cloak on the person she had assumed she'd never see again.
‘No way... It’s him. Itachi!’ She dashes back inside, hiding behind a wall, nearly knocking the sweets off the tray she was holding.
‘Hopefully, he didn't see me.’
She wants nothing more than to run up to the mysterious man with open arms and kiss him passionately before clinging onto him while telling him how much she missed him and how she's been such a good girl since their lovemaking.
But she can't be ecstatic, at least not in front of everyone. Yet, if Itachi truly wanted to see her, he knew where she worked and where she met for pleasure, but he didn't, leaving her to wonder if it was all a dream (when it wasn't).
Easing her nerves, she took a deep breath before making her way toward him.
“H-Hello,” Showing her best fake smile, she places the sweet treats down next to him, before tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. If he wanted to keep what they had a secret, so be it. She was used to this.
“Enjoy…” She mutters out, giving a faint smile before turning back so he couldn't see her smile fall.
She'd never felt so nervous before. The suspicion that he is lying to her in order to get his way with her and, as a practical joke, going where she works and claiming not to know, it hurts. However, before she could go, her hand, which was holding the crimson ring, was seized, keeping her motionless.
"So, as you predicted, we meet again." He whispers in her ear, causing her to gasp and hide her heated face with the tray in her hand.
"I-I should leave since others are waiting for their meals." She averted his eyes as she said that.
But Itachi would not let her.
"Look at me." He coos, his breath tickling her sensitive ear as he drags his finger up the side of her face, bringing her close to meet his.
Taking the dish from her and dumping it someplace near them, he immediately had her under his spell.
“What’s the matter? Why is the pretty girl pouting?” He teases, showing a faint smile. “Don't play with me, Itachi-sama. I thought we wouldn't see each other again and that what we did was just a one-time thing.” She hissed out, struggling to get out of his grip.
That made his brow twitch.
“Don’t you miss me?” He smirked, ignoring her feeble attempt and comment.
Which only seems to irk her.
“Did you?”
If only she knew, how long Itachi had been silently yearning for the curvy beauty. Observing the way she works at a local Dango shop and how she approaches every customer's table sensually, swaying her hips from side to side as she sets their treats on the table while wearing a smile and innocent-appearing eyes, and then makes her way away to take the order of another customer.
He wanted her to leave lose the phony image and show her true self. The confident, brave, and sexy woman who does not take crap, is an overly eager hussy and appears to become bashful and pouty when her Daddy is not there.
Or so she thinks.
For Itachi, he kept assuring himself that what he was doing for months was for her sake and would not interfere with anything she did, only observing her every move. Keeping one of his crows following her wherever she went.
I mean, was she that gullible?
She didn't seem to care about her personal safety.
Wearing the sexiest, tightest-fitting clothes imaginable so late at night. What if something went wrong? He’s not shaming her in what she wears -no, he just doesn't trust the outside world. If you think this man is insane now, just wait till something intervenes with her safety.
He'll be there in a heartbeat.
It was almost as if this was a test. A test to see who could deliver her the pleasure she wanted and deserved. And a test to see how long she could tolerate being with other men before being taken away by him.
To bind her solely to one dick.
His.
So, when she asks if he misses her, the answer is yes.
He was drawn to her piercing gaze, then to her lush, slightly parted lips in a cute pout, as she bit her bottom lip as noticed where he was looking.
"How about I show you how much I miss you?" He charmingly smiled, leaving her flustered and stammering.
"If you think you can just walk into my life and expect me to just-" She abruptly responds, slamming his chest to vent her annoyance, but stops as Itachi clutches her wrist. "W-what are you doing?" She stutters, feeling his warm fingers trace her arm till they lock hands.
"I believe this belongs to me." He stated this while staring her down and bringing their linked hands between them, revealing the silver ring she cherished.
Of course, he would change the subject.
“I found it.” She calmly said, trying to regain herself by pulling her hand away and behind her body.
“Of course you did.” He grins, surprisingly leaving the ring on her finger. “Keep it. I have another one.” Itachi already knew she'd take the ring, deliberately leaving the silver ring where she could see it, imbuing it with a very special seal.
“And let not forget you putting the honorific ‘sama’ after my name. It hurts my feeling when you said that…” He said, drawing her close and seductively whispering her name with the honorific ‘chan’ right behind it.
“S-Stop it, Itachi! I’m working right now. Everyone could see-” She whispered shouting while backing away from him.
"-that didn't stop you last time. Remember, pinned down on the counter while-"
“Shut up!”
He can't help but tease the curvaceous beauty. It's amusing to see her become flustered and embarrassed while attempting to fight him back. It's cute.
“Ssshhh…Relax.” He cuddled her and brought their foreheads together to soothe her down. Of course, it eases her. She clung to his cloak and gradually gave in to her loneliness and longing for him.
"I really miss you." She whispered sheepishly, biting her lip and looking at him with hungry eyes.
"I'm sure you did, Love. Have you been a good girl since I left?" Itachi knew the answer but wanted to hear it from her.
"Yes." She pants out, already forgetting where she was as she clings to Itachi's arm.
“Well... Are you going to let me reward you for being my good girl, or are you going to be a brat once again?" He stated this while arching his brow, but before she could speak, he cut her off. "I'll give you two options: tell them you're on your very long break or go back and serve with me gone." He left it at that.
Itachi slips the dango from the dish and begins to walk, leaving her there with no time to evaluate her choices.
But you already know which one you'll go with, right?
Sadly Tumblr wants to be mean, but that's fine, hopefully, this won't be flagged. if curious to see the whole photo here is the link. 😊
Warnings: Mentions the use of toys, Mentions Oral (Male receiving), Pet names (Little Sun/ Sunflower/ Lion/ My Love/ etc...), Mean Russia (At the very end), Dirty talk, Somnophilia, Masturbation (Female Solo...?), Touch Starve Reader! (You just miss your Giant Hubby). Basically, NSFW. 🤷🏻♀️
Also be mindful that I didn't really mention much of the reader's appearance (besides she's a female) since I wanted to keep it vague for everyone to relate as much as possible, though it is definitely for the more voluptuous side of ladies. 😊
Please be mindful that the photos are not mine, but the making of the collage is.
MINORS DNI!!!! 🔞🙅🏻♀️If you're not comfortable with this, please ignore!
Translation: (Forgive me if the translation is incorrect since I did use google translate).
Solnishko - Little sun
Moya lyubov' - My love
Podsolnukh - Sunflower
Seychas - Now
Lev - Lion
Da - Yes
She adored her husband and everything he had done for them. Sure, he appeared to be a scary, intimidating man many had pitied her for marrying, but she did not mind. In her mind, she had such a thoughtful, compassionate, gentle giant. He would bring her a single sunflower every time he was away while explaining the meaning of the plant. It was really romantic, and she cherished those moments.
Poor baby even struggles to wake up in the morning, and it’s so adorable~<3
Already out of bed and making breakfast, she notices he isn't up and climbs back into bed, wrapping her arms around his chest, feeling his warmth before waking him up. If she does not succeed, she’ll physically drag him, propping Ivan upright in the bed, still in a daze with a bedhead and bedsheet creases on his face and body. This makes her chuckle before she walks out to the kitchen to finish packing his lunch.
Starting off his day, Ivan goes to his little sunflower, where he wraps his arms around her body and rests his chin on her head. He watches her do her morning routine before sadly groaning softly and leaving her there with a loving kiss on the forehead.
The whole cycle repeats again.
They had their own way of showing affection, which she didn’t mind. But it became a problem when he became such a workaholic.
Crashing on the couch anytime he arrived home late and then left so early that she only ever saw him if she stayed up late. And that's a HARD, maybe.
And she didn’t mind at first, not until it got in between her and her man’s sex life. She needs her daily dose of vitamin D.
She missed the old days when he would sometimes bring her to the world meetings, sitting right on his lap. This was embarrassing since everyone was staring at them, but Ivan would calmly pet her head, giving her a reassuring smile while listening to all the countries' conversations.
He would even bring her a coloring book if the meeting were taking too long, or she’d be on her phone because if someone tried to talk to her like the last time, Mr. Russia himself would not hesitate to cut a bitch.
“Solnishko, I’m home…” Sluggishly, Ivan whispers, closing the door behind him.
The moment Ivan walks through the front door after being gone for two weeks, she could not have moved fast enough.
Running up and jumping into his arms, barely being caught, Ivan laughs slightly as she wraps her legs around his waist and buries her face in his neck. He thought she would be sleeping now since it was almost 4 in the morning.
Yet, knowing he was on his way after such a long job, she stayed up until she heard the door open. She just needed to be sure she wasn't imagining all this. Burying her face in the crook of his neck, she took a deep breath, inhaling his manly scent and the cologne he always wears while running her fingers through his blond locks.
“I missed you too, podsolnukh.”
She couldn't even say anything, simply peppering kisses on his face. The smile on his face says it all: how happy he is to finally be home with his little sun that loves him dearly.
"Seychas, seychas, moya lyubov'," He says while setting her down on her feet but still keeping an arm around her waist for physical contact. "I need a nap before I can do any of that, little one." He softly smirks at her pouting lips and glistening eyes. He moved closer, as if about to kiss her, seeing her moving in to feel her husband warm lips against her, she close her eyes while prompting up on her tiptoes.
She looks so cute, waiting patiently for her husband to kiss her, but she’ll never get it. With a smudged smile, he backs away when she opens her eyes, torturing his sweet wife even more.
Upset for being teased, she playfully hits him on his chest while he chuckles.
As he begins to move more into the house, she clings to her husband's side, arms wrapped around his bicep. She looks up at him ever so longingly, frustrated, and whimpers to herself, "I've been so lonely without you, but I understand you've been really busy. So get some rest, my love. We’ll continue when you are well rested."
That kind smile that came with a head rub made her want to melt where she stood. Oh- how touched starve she was for her husband, how he gave her a passionate kiss with his chapped lips before walking to the bedroom while saying goodnight.
After a couple of hours of doing housework and being alone while obeying her husband's wishes, she couldn't help herself. The urge to go and at least join him while he slept was too strong, so she snuck into their bedroom and was about to dive in and snuggle her cuddly bear until she fully stopped.
Staring right back at her was a barely covered Ivan sleeping peacefully in bed, laying face up with his blanket strewn almost to the ground, wearing only his boxer shorts, which did little to nothing to hide such a nice thick bulge.
It seemed like she wasn't the only one missing her lover.
Her lips gently pressed against his broad chest, leaving a soft, lingering touch as she felt the rise and fall of his steady breath. A faint grunt escaped the snoring man as he stirred slightly, responding to her tender gesture. She slowly gripped the waistband of his briefs, tugging from the front until his dick sprung free.
She moans silently, chewing her bottom lips as she skillfully strokes his length. Smearing the leaking bead of pre around the tip of his cock.
He wouldn’t mind her having a taste of her treat now, would he? It has been two full weeks without pleasuring herself with such a tasty treat. Plus, she has been a good girl, waiting patiently (until the last few hours) so he could get some rest, so he surely wouldn’t mind her having just a lick even if he opposed it, right?
🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻
"Ah~ What are you- Hmph!"
Not even a few minutes in, did a raspy, drowsy morning voice rings throughout the semi-silent room as he awoke from his deep slumber, it was like music to her ears. From the loud sucking and moaning he had heard, as well as the waves of sensation surging between his legs all through his body.
His words come to a halt as he feels her tongue run down along the middle of his balls while she furiously stares into his eyes.
"I couldn't wait any longer. You needed me." She cries out sluggishly, sucking on one of his balls while rapidly pumping the throbbing rod.
Ivan was considerably more sensitive than he realized. He was heavy and sensitive because he did not have enough time to milk one out between trips. Besides, he rather do these things with his wife.
His hand reaches for her hair, wrapping it into a makeshift ponytail as another wave of ecstasy rushes through him. He needs some way to calm himself; he doesn’t want to hurt his curvy beauty and how rough he unintentionally is.
"What do you say when you want something?" He lets out a groan. Silently cursing in Russian as his giant frame hunched forward over hers.
"I want it. Now." She stated this while licking the pre-cum droplets dripping down the tip, sucking the thick member till she was halfway down.
The sensation of his cock, head splitting open her lips and wrapped around warmth, drove this man wild.
Gazes up into those lovely eyes of his, she moans breathlessly around his member, making him throw his head back and gutter out a shaky sigh. Slowly, they were both becoming delusional.
"D-Don't look at me." He spoke softly. Suddenly, he felt embarrassed when casting his eyes on his wife. He saw her with no remorse or regret on her face as she went down on him, leaving sloppy, wet sounds echoing in the room. He was about to use his scarf to conceal his flushed face until he realized he wasn't wearing it, forcing him to use his hand as a substitute.
It was shameful and thrilling to be awakened by such a sinful act, which left Ivan feeling vulnerable yet aroused at the same time.
When Ivan suddenly shudders violently, his cock twitches into her greedy slurps, ready to release two weeks' worth of load, when she quickly pulls away from his weeping member.
Sensing him needing to breath a second, faintly a breathless “thank you” slips from his heaving body while watching pre-cum spill from his weeping dick.
She couldn’t help her heart from swelling for having such pride for her cute husband ...and dick. They both being her personal playthings to toy with was a plus.
Though all thoughts aside, she quickly lays next to him while wrapping a hand around the base of his cock and running her tongue along his prominent veins.
Peeking through her long lashes, she sees her Russian man gripping the sheets under him as though his life depended on it while he was moaning like a madman.
Such a big cock he has, long and thick with such an angry red tip that belongs to her. How she would sometimes, on special occasions, wear lipstick to suck him off and mark what's hers. Kissing his lower abdomen on occasion to sign off on her work. Seeing throughout his length smeared lipstick marks and hickeys plus teeth marks on his inner thighs and hipbone. It was just her and her husband's dick little secret.
And his breeder balls? To his satisfaction, fondling them nicely in her hand while giving sweet smooches to each ball before taking them in her mouth, tongue swirling around one before going to the next while gradually pumping his heaving rod from the base up till she was just about to reach his weeping tip before stroking right back down.
She was bullying the poor Russian man when all he wants is you to milk him good.
"S-Slow down, podsolnukh. I’m going to cum. Cum on your beautiful face... No, I don't want to do that!" He stutters out, shaking his head from the lewd thought as his hips kept thrusting upward and into her soft hand, oblivious to his antics.
Such a hypocrite~
Her stomach flutters with every stroke, he always seemed to unwind when his balls are being caressed. His once playful, carefree demeanor melted away, turning to this desperate and submissive side.
Hm, cute~
“It’s ok, baby. Do it. I want you to let loose. Cum on me, I won't let you go until then.” She cooed, giving him a mischief-loving smile before kissing the twitching member and eagerly burying a hand between her thighs, touching her neglected clit, to hook on sucking her favorite toy.
Ivan shakily lays a hand over her head, sheepishly succumbing while weeping from having his balls sucked on, dick lying flat on her face as thick loads of cum spurt onto her pretty pink tongue just as she pulls away. Ivan, still in a daze of mind, stares at her.
She should have been ashamed of herself for keeping her tongue out to capture every last drop, but she wasn’t, more like ecstatic that she was finally able to taste him.
Basking in his afterglow, Ivan watches his wife show off how much cum she captured on her tongue before gulping it down and showing her now empty mouth before flashing him that lovely smile, making his heart skip a beat.
"Did I do good?" She asks hesitantly, her eyes filled with love for her hubby.
"Yes, so good." He sighs, petting her head and looking at her affectionately.
Until he quickly changed his demeanor, seizing her by her chubby cheek with a hand, forcing her to gaze at his terrifying countenance. "But if you wake me up from my sleep again, I'll punish you, da?"
Letting go of her face to pinch her cheek.
"B-But I miss you." She pouts, clinging to her lover, unaffected by his stare. Which he knew, letting out a sigh before smiling and letting go of her face.
"Well, I guess welcome home to me, da?" He chuckles, making her happily nod. She kisses his chest, wanting to be near him.
"But, considering it's been weeks since we last did it, I'm guessing we're not done yet. Hm? …What’s this? My~ Aren't you eager, my poor solnyshko, da? Already wet by just sucking me off?" He laughs, bringing his hand between her doughy thighs and stroking her cloth cunt, which appears to be seeping through.
“Tell you what, you have 5 seconds to take off your clothes before I decide you don't get to cum, da?” The moment he said that, she didn't have a chance to comment on how impossible that was before he started to count down. Making the curvy beauty frantically try and remove her baggy shirt and cozy socks before having her hands on her panties waistband, until…
“Da?”
Before he could reach 5, his phone on the nightstand began to ring.
Now it wasn't his fault he got a call from his boss just as she was taking off her panties, but still, she wanted just to grab the damn thing and yell at them for bothering them this early in the morning.
But he makes it up, placing the phone between his shoulder and ear while sitting on the edge of the bed beside his curvy beauty. Holding one of her legs wide open as she ran a cute fruit-shaped vibrator that he’d bought her after their marriage for moments like these over her clit while his other hand was preoccupied, messy thick fingers stuffed in her mouth to keep her cries at bay.
And if she had forgotten he was on a call, he would not hesitate to grab that cucumber-shaped sex toy, placing it on the highest setting and leaving it on her already abused clit as she squirmed in distress. Her pussy contrasts around nothing as she nearly chokes on his big sausage fingers that are stuffed down her throat while she tries not to vomit.
"Gimme what I want. Give it to me. Give your big, strong Lev your all." She gave in with a meaningless nod. Allowing the burning, overwhelming heat in her belly to burst. As her vision fades to white, her body shakes violently from wave after wave of bliss coursing through her.
Eyes gloss over and tears in the corner of her eyes as she moans, oblivious to the fingers covering her mouth as she squirts all over the bedsheet and his thigh, staining his boxers. At the same time, he grins, a proud look in his eyes as he switches the setting to low before pulling away when she can't squirt anymore.
Placing a thin blanket over her body, he kisses her on the shoulder before standing and becoming this severe and scary man. He walks away to his office while speaking in Russian to his boss. And judging by how he was yelling, it wasn't good.
Arrange Marriage Sanemi Shinazugawa X Chubby Reader!
Warnings: Handjob, Mean! Sanemi (For the most part), Pet names (Princess, My Love, etc...), Degradation, Humiliation, Masturbation (Solo Female), Unprotected sex (At the very end), Blowjob, Dirty talk, Confession, Jealousy-ish Reader, Cheating...?, Thighjob, Rejection...?, Caught, Mutual Masturbation. Basically, NSFW. 🤷🏻♀️
Also be mindful that I didn't really mention much of the reader's appearance (besides she's a female) since I wanted to keep it vague for everyone to relate as much as possible, though it is definitely for the more voluptuous side of ladies. 😊
Please be mindful that all photos are not mine, but the making of the collage is.
MINORS DNI!!!! 🔞🙅🏻♀️ If you're not comfortable with this, please ignore!
Arranged Marriage: Sanemi Shinazugawa X Chubby Reader! Who to her parents, Shinazugawa was the ideal man that they’d picked for their daughter, well business-wise at least.
Her father became good friends with a man called Ubuashiki Kaguya, who made an arrangement for her to marry one of the Harshira’s when she reached a certain age. Not knowing about this agreement until it was too late.
In front of her parents and herself were Ubuashiki and the man whom she promised to marry, Sanemi Shinazugawa, who was kneeling next to her father's friend. When first meeting him, she could say she was intimidated by his appearance, having many scars scattered on his face and down his body, trailing down and hidden from sight by his uniform. He was definitely the opposite of her, with a rough, muscular body with numerous scars scattered around, while hers was far smoother and soft to the touch, with only stretch marks here and there. Yet she didn't seem to mind.
She quickly averted her gaze, and her face became warm the moment she saw his bloodshot eyes stare back at her. Oh no, she was caught!
“Hello, I look forward to getting to know much more about you.” As quickly as she turned away, she quickly turned back to his eyes the moment she heard his voice. Oh, how deep and smooth it was. She could feel the tingling sensation between her thighs with every word he spoke, not that she was paying attention.
As far as she knew, he seemed like a respectful, calm, collectible man, almost what one could call an ideal gentleman. She doesn't know much about what her father supported, just that he could at least protect her from what lurks in the dark.
Forcing them to spend more time together. She cries out in response to her father's unexpected action; shoving her through the other end of the sliding doors while closing them behind her.
She was forced inside the room, hitting a wall that seemed to be tipping down with her as she braced for impact, squeezing her eyes shut until she collided with the solid figure, which she now sensed felt warm. She used her hand, which was clutching what she wasn't aware was a piece of clothing, to feel whether what she was thinking was true.
She gasps from feeling her hand being slapped away from what she didn't know was Sanemi's face.
“Get off of me!”
“I-I-I’m so sorry-”
Using his other hand, Sanemi places his hand on her face forcing her to move to the side.
“I’m sorry!” She bowed from where she sat while seeing him move farther away to another set of sliding doors, that he laid down on his side facing what she just noticed was one of the entrances to the courtyard.
It was silent for a moment before she finally dared to speak, “It’s such a lovely day out, such a nice breeze we are having today don't you think?” She awkwardly said, crawling her way towards Sanemi until she was next to him. Glancing down at him, she saw how he just lay there eyes closed with a hand supporting his head. Seeming to not pay too much mind to her.
“Say, do you hear that? That sounds like a bug's mating call, right? I read something about that though I'm not sure” She shyly chuckles, still not getting a peep from him.
This led on for a few minutes, her anxiously trying to carry out a conversation that he didn’t seem to care.
“You know…you could ask me a few things. Nothing is out of reach.”
“Is that so?” She was shocked to hear him suddenly speak but quickly smile while nodding encouraging him to continue.
“Well how about shutting up.”
What did he say?
“I-I’m sorry?”
“Do you not shut up for one second? Can't you see I'm not in the mood to play pretend? So why don't you do what I say and shut up.” He said, glaring at her.
“Well, you don't need to be so damn rude! I just thought, what you said in the meeting was actually true!”
“Yeah, I don't give a fuck about the meeting.” He scoffed.
She sat there, eyeing that man she was going to marry, shocked by what he said as she heard shuffling coming from in front of her. As she was about to tilt her head to look at Sanemi, she felt a painful pressure in her chubby cheeks jerking her forward to face those dull, bloodshot eyes of his.
“Let's get one thing straight: this is nothing more than an agreement between Master Ubuashiki and your old man. Nothing more, nothing less. I don't see why the Master chose me to babysit such a spoiled rich brat who hasn't lifted a finger throughout her life.”
Sanemi Shinazugawa was the exact opposite of what she expected. His once respectful, well-spoken, calm demeanor quickly changed to this sadistic, rude, incompetent, threatening, and many more things that she could go on and on about a man who stared at her as if he despised her.
“We would be nothing more than strangers who happen to be married, so don’t go making some plans. Got it.” Right as he told her that, he pushes her away making her stumble backwards and fall flat on her ass. Tears gather in the corner of her eyes while she moved away from the grumbling man as she tried to stop her tears from falling while silent ok’ing.
Sanemi's personality changed not too long after her father and Ubuashiki arrived, becoming the same gentleman that they both appeared to know.
------------
“You look handsome, my love.” She whispers as they walk down the aisle.
Not being able to help but gawk at what her husband was wearing. I mean this if the first time seeing him wear something besides his uniform.
“My love?” Noticing his disturbed expression, she shyly nodded.
“I just thought, since we are newlyweds, we could give each other pet names. Is that alright with you?”
Staring at where they were walking, Sanemi quickly strained out his disapproval.
“We haven't even left the damn ceremony yet. There's no need to call me a stupid pet name. Just call me by my birth name.” He grumbles out, shooting her a quick side glance before looking forward and speed-walking out of the temple.
Pain shot through her heart at Sanemi’s words, trying desperately for this marriage to work, but for that to happen, both parties must work together... right?
Well, even if Sanemi isn't having it, she definitely plans on trying.
Going one day to the demon slayer's headquarters.
With a nervous expression on her face, she wiped her sweaty hands on the side of her kimono before properly holding the carefully wrapped desert in her hand.
She prayed that Sanemi would be grateful for what she has done, maybe go out of his way and say how he loves her before giving her a kiss on the cheek -Ah get a grip girl. This is just to show him how she’s not a spoiled brat that doesn't know anything (when in reality, he caught her red-handed though she plans on proving to him that she could improve and so could he).
Making his favorite that she secretly found out by Giyu. She’s done everything from scratch, waking up before dawn and starting baking, trying her best to make something she knew little to nothing about, making multiple trials and errors.
Finally making some that looked fairly good, she couldn't help but bring some to her husband while being unaware of how she looked, having red bean paste smeared on her forehead and her hair loosened from the tie she had worn.
There he was, her husband, sweating his ass off while training young swordsmen to what she could see to death. Yet he still look as handsome as the first day she met him.
She stood in a corner waiting for them to take a break until she was sought out.
“Who is that?”
“Why is she staring at us?”
“Should we say something?”
It got to the point that even Sanemi seemed to notice that everyone was talking about something, which was pissing him off since it was disturbing his lesson.
“Oi! What the hell are you whispering about? ” He hissed, heading to the gossiping slayer, who quickly cried out, “N-Nothing sir, just wondering who is that!”
Sanemi was confused by who they were talking about, so he glanced behind him to see who it was.
For a second she saw a shocked expression on his face, before quickly changing back to a scowl. Shyly waving at him, she was about to say something to Sanemi as he was coming this way when she was cut short by him grabbing her sleeve and dragging her to the sliding doors she came from.
“What the hell are you doing here?!?”
“I-I came here to give you something.” She said struggling to keep up with him.
“Whatever it is could wait.”
“But it's something I think you would like.” Calmly collecting herself, she takes out the wrapped up ohagi. “I made it myself, I hope you like it.”
“I don't have time to play games.”
“But this isn't a game, Sanemi. Listen I mad-”
“Enough!” He shouts out, not taking count of what he has done. Slapping the wrap treats out of her hand and to the ground spilled some of them in the process.
“You look a mess, coming to this establishment so filthy and for what to give me something? Go home and clean yourself up.”
Tuning out whatever he was saying after that, she kneeled down picking up what was left. She felt her face heat up, as embarrassment overwhelmed her. Glanced up to see some of the female slayers chuckling.
“I’m sorry for disturbing you. I’ll never bother you again.” She whispers out, her voice trembling as she stands up and quickly closes the door behind her.
Slowly walking to the entrance, she stops her track when seeing the same group of girls walking by.
“Can you believe what happened? Was that girl confessing to him? That was pathetic I tell you.”
“Tell me about it, the way he just threw whatever that was she made to the ground.”
“And her weight. You could tell she's not a slayer. Where did she come from actually.”
She was disappointed to know that no one seemed to learn about Sanemi and her relationship. And how these girls could just judge her without knowing her. She grew irritated with herself, putting up a front from her father and the corporation, and how it was obvious that Sanemi would never love her. Clutching the smashed up homemade goods she was slowly losing faith.
“Well now, what do we have here?”
The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She hadn't even noticed someone sneaking up behind her. She slowly backed away, looking up to see who it was.
Towering over her, was a 6ft white hair Sound Hashira who was looking back at her. Glancing towards the laughing group of girls, seeming to notice what she had heard. Not wasting a second, he heads to the group of girls who seem shocked when they notice him.
“You there, watch how you speak about others. You do not know anything about that woman you are speaking of.” He narrows his eyes, speaking with such calmness that had those girls apologizing. “As punishment, you are to do 500 pushups.”
She was shocked by what she heard, it was nice of him to do that but at the same time, she didn't need someone's pity.
“You didn't need to do that…”
“Nonsense, that was unflashy of them to say to such an adorable woman.” Uzui smile. Noticed what was wrapped in the curvy beauty's arms. “Say what do we have here?”
In a blink of an eye, she was shocked to see that the man had the bag she was carrying.
“Nothing something dumb that I made. But don’t worry about it, I plan on throwing them out so please y-you don't have to-” Before she had a chance to persuade the flamboyant man to not eat the ohagi, he quickly took one of the treats and plant it in his mouth.
“Hmm, not much flair on how it looks but it definitely has some spice to it.” He said, giving her a thumbs up with a cheeky smile.
No one has ever given her a compliment like that. Sure she has maids to compliment her but it always seemed forced, and she never had any friends so that was also a no. So when this white hair man with such a peppy attitude said that to her, her heart couldn’t help but beat fast.
“Well, I’ll let you go. Now don't go wandering off. Until we meet again.” He said, patting her on the head before walking away.
“Ok… see ya.” She was in a daze, while watching him leave. But couldn’t be more happy that she found someone that somewhat liked her.
With a smile on her face, she happily walked away unnoticed by her, that a certain Wind Hashira was eavesdropping.
-------------
He was pissed. Far beyond it.
Those fucking glances they would give to each other just pissed him off.
It made Sanemi's lavender eyes bloodshot as he watched his dear wife enjoy herself in the little outing that members of the higher ranking were exclusively invited to, primarily with a certain slayer.
On the other hand, she seems to have noticed Sanemi’s quiet demeanor not daring to ask him why or look at him, instead focused on the person sitting across from her.
When she first came to the outing, she was speechless and in awe of meeting the Harshira’s one by one, til meeting Uzui, the sound Harshira. Shock that she was able to see him again.
“So we meet again.” He said, giving a crooked smile before winking at her. As they stood side by side, she took note of how his height towered over Sanemi's.
She greeted him back, noticing how her body was reacting: goosebumps erupted as a shivered run down her spine from his light touch, her nipples erect and a tingling sensation between her legs as he walked away.
She wasn’t surprised when hearing he had three wives, in fact she would have been shocked if he was still single.
Glancing up she was met with Sanemi’s stare, yet he didn't seem embarrassed that he was caught more like happy. Silently giving her a look she wasn't all too familiar with.
“Oi eat up, you seem much thinner from the last time we met. Here, eat this. You know what they say, the healthier the woman, the better fertile she is to have many young.” Uzui whispers, handing her a few slices of meat that he thinks she'll like.
Blushing from what he’s said, she hope no one heard that.
“Thank you.” She shyly said, taking a sip of the bitter sake that she wasn't used to as she caught Sanemi's eyes following her every movement. She was grateful no one was questioning why she and Sanemi weren't sitting next to each other.
Like she promised she would never interfere with him again, going out of her way to not be known by him when in closed door, and if needing to be together in occasion like this in particular she would sit the far opposite of where he was, but it seems this is not working for Sanemi.
“Excuse me.” Getting up from where she sat, she looks away from Sanemi's direction, not daring to look him again as she fixes her kimono before hurriedly running along out of the room. Pressing her back against the wall, she breathes out long shaky breath to calm her nerves. Honestly not knowing why her heart was beating fast and her legs were already ready to buck.
Caught in her own little world, she didn't notice the sounds of footsteps coming her way. Gasping as she turns the corner to be met by scary looking Sanemi, who pressed her soft form hard against the wall.
“San-” Before she had the chance to say anything, Sanemi’s hand reached for her mouth, covering it with his palm while moving his other hand up to his lips and signal for her to be quiet. Quickly she nodded in response, scared of what he might do to her. Keeping his hand over her mouth, he placed the other on the wall beside her head as her heart began to beat faster as his face got closer.
“Don't provoke me, I promise I won't be gentle if I find out you and Uzui have something.” Looking him dead in the eyes his jaw clenched as he finally lets go of her before walking away from the scene.
What the hell just happened?!?
Walking back to the little outing, when she open the door and was about to make her way back towards her seat a hand took a hold of hers.
“Ah, what are you-“
As she was about to say something to the person, she notice it was Sanemi who had grabbed her, side eyeing her before looking away and dragged her to the opposite side from where she sat and right down to the one next to his.
Not once saying a word. He took a plate that happen to be near and begin to grab variety of food around them before placing it down next to her.
“Eat up.” Was all he said while drinking down his sake. Not once looking her way the whole night.
———————-
As she lay in bed agreeing with herself on how much she loathed Sanemi, the events of that day swayed her from sleeping.
Remembering how he'd pinned her and how close his strong body was next to her, how she'd caught his manly aroma for a brief second, how his hand felt on the lower part of her back when he lower her to sit that set her body on fire with want and desire. To this day, she can still feel the warmth of his body.
She buries her face in the pillow and screams into it before peeking out. She shouldn't be lusting over that jerk of a husband she has. The way he would look at her, as though he despised her. Or just plainly ignore her like she didn’t exists.
It's not fair. Why didn't her father or even Mr. Ubuashiki give her Uzui, who treats his wives right with such love and care for one another, like a big happy family. Anyone could tell he satisfied Makio, Suma, and Hinatsuru emotionally, spiritually, and... sexually.
She can't help but feel envious, envious of Uzui's love for his wives. I mean, she's a female with desires, and to make matters worse, after being married and expecting them to start their new relationship, Sanemi just took a shower and went to bed next to her without even saying goodnight.
Did he have no sexual desires? Or was he seeing someone behind her back? She was too afraid to approach her husband about these allegations. As she pondered these thoughts, her hand couldn't help but delicately brush her exposed body while burying her face in the pillow she was clutching... Sanemi's pillow, to be precise.
She didn't need him. She knew how to tend to herself way before even meeting Sanemi.
Her fingers grazed against her delicate skin as she imagined those large muscular hands that could manhandle her. Her body slowly began to heat up at the notion of his hand toying with her, spreading her slick fold and assaulting her swollen clit exactly like she was doing, while he praised her body as if she were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
She takes a deep breath and shifts her position on the futon, lowering the side of her robe to knead her breasts. Her index and middle finger would pinch her tender nipple so lovingly as soft whimpers echoed throughout the darkroom as she strained to spread her legs wide while thrusting two fingers deep within her cunt, right up until a knot formed inside her.
She leaned her head back against the pillow, eyes closed to focus on the waves of pleasure shooting through her arched body all the way down to her curling toes. As the knot was quickly becoming undone, she drew her hand away, not wanting to cum too fast.
A heavy sigh leaves her lips as she whimpers to herself while gripping the same pillow she was holding before to get a whiff of the lingering scent she missed. Going back to playing with herself.
“Hm... Uzui~”
"What did you say?!?" In front of her, a hissing sound can be heard. When the sliding door opened to announce his presence, it startled her.
Her eyes widened in disbelief as she looked up to see her husband standing there glaring at her.
"How long have you been standing there?" She cleared her throat, trying to ignore the heat that crept up to her cheeks as she struggled to hide her exposed body.
"Long enough to know who you imagine when I'm not here," Sanemi growled, glaring at his unfortunate wife.
The whole time he’s been there watching her, it was an accident at first. Just gotten home and was going to take a bath when hearing the curvy beauty in bed, peaking through the crack of the door, her face buried in his pillow and her hand between her thighs.
Let’s face it, Sanemi hasn’t had sexual relief in such a long time, just hasn’t had the time with everything going on. So he couldn’t help himself from palming his already hard cock. Just seeing her nude body and the way she knead her nipple while fucking herself was making him go insane. Everything was going perfectly until, "…Uzui~"
Then, all hell broke loose.
As she strained to respond to Sanemi's words, her lips opened and closed like a fish out of water.
"Why so embarrassed? Just a second ago, you were touching yourself with the thought of a married man." He snarls, sinking to his knees and stalking towards her. The curvy beauty scurries back as Sanemi grabs her robe collar and brings her in for a fiery kiss.
Sanemi's tongue entered her mouth, exploring every place he could reach until his lips grasped her tongue, sucking the smooth muscle, and she moaned in surprise. Her thoughts became fuzzy as she resist him, clutching the front of his uniform, until feeling the heat from his body engulf her nude one. Finally succumbing as he lowered her down on the bed, lifting her chin to get better access. Their bodies begin to melt into one another.
A loud whimper escaped from her lips as she began to buck her hips, craving some friction between her thighs. He bit her bottom lip before trailing down his down along her nude neck, peppering delicate kisses on her chest.
Feeling self-conscious, she shyly began to place her hands between Sanemi and her chest, until feeling pressure on her wrist, staring down, she noticed that Sanemi was glaring at her as though telepathically daring her to cover herself in his presence.
She quickly moved her hands away, slipping them around his back, wanting the physical affection from this touch-starved man.
She gasps when feeling Sanemi's tongue lap over her soft, sensitive breast, nibbling and sucking every spot. She ranked her fingers through his hair as the Hashira eyes slowly rolled to the back of his head from pure bliss.
His hand went lower too, gliding his finger over her slit, somewhat troubled by the fact that she was wet already. Harshly, he scatters kisses on her breast, not caring if he hurt her for a second since he plans on relieving her by toying with her pussy.
“Ah, it’s not fair. Why am I the only one naked? ” She whines, sucking on Sanemi’s thumb, which he seems to be enjoying the sight of.
Staring at the pouting curvy beauty, Sanemi grumbles to himself before quickly removing a bit of his haori with the assistance of his eager wife.
She bit her lower lip, staring longingly at her husband, in awe at what was in front of her. Scares cover his whole body, from his big chest to his naked feet. She delicately traced the fading scar on his lower tummy, unable to control herself, but her hand was snatched away from his chest and dragged forward to face him as she did so, glaring down at her.
"The hell are you doing?"
"I just wanted to feel." She says, trembling, a little startled by his unexpected tone. Sanemi's hand, which was clutching her wrist too firmly, made her grimace.
"And why would you want to do that?" He says, narrowing his eyes.
"Because... I think you're beautiful!" She blurts out, startling the demon slayer. He covers his face with his hand, as a flush spread across his cheeks.
"Damn it... You're so dumb." She sobbed out his name as he slid his fingers inside her, fingertips gleaming with her juice as he parted her folds, eager to see the pulsating bead.
Her thighs strained as he stroked her clit, rubbing slow rhythmic circles over her clit, making her quiver and clutch the teasing arm, but he stayed in place, pinned her leg down and prevented her from shutting her thighs. The long, drawn-out flicks that he was providing abruptly changed to quick strokes, with the occasional slap to her clit. Which was making her to jolt in his grip.
"Stop it, Sa-nemi. I-I want to take care of you as well." She whimpers, her fingers trailing down to the bulge in his pants as she gently pushes him away by his chest. She pouts, staring at him with her doe eyes as she unbuttons his trousers.
She couldn't stop herself from worshiping his member. He had a magnificent cock, around 7 inches long and uncut. Having a fairly decent girth with a nicely trimmed white patch along the base.
She stroked her fingers along his cock's veins, admiring how much pre-cum was leaking out from the red-sensitive tip that was driving Nemi wild. He had too much pride to cry out in absolute bliss as his pretty princess tormented his tip, stroking over and over again against his pisshole as he growled, pushing his hips away when she stuffed her finger within his foreskin touching the base of his tip.
Pulling his hand away from her insides he then begin to tease her bud.
“Ah, no... Come closer. Nemi~” She whimpers, helping herself to caress his hips, wanting him back where she could touch him. Stroking the heavy rod again, following the rhythm that he was touching her.
With a smile on his face, Sanemi was happy to know that his wife was ravishing his form with her eyes, watching him intently, barely blinking as she bit her lower lip. Though he had to admit, he was also liking the view in front of him much more than he anticipated.
She arched her back and placed her head back on her pillow, forcing him to swallow his saliva as he inserted two thick fingers back inside her. Picking up the pace, fingers curling as he drew them out and spreading them wide when they were in.
He saw her legs quivering against his thigh and used it as a cue to speed up, pounding harder while thumbing her clit.
"Hmm... No." She shakily exhales, on the edge of using her other hand to nudge Sanemi closer, much to his confusion.
She didn't waste any time staring up at her lovely husband's eyes as she bent forward to the throbbing member, lapping around the leaking tip like it was her favorite lollipop, bobbing her head down till she was halfway down.
That was enough for Sanemi to not be able to hold back, a moan slipping out as he used his free hand to cover his mouth, slowly a blush crept across his face all the way down his neck.
As her eyes were slowly crossing, from the sensation of Sanemi’s thick fingers scissoring her greedy cunt and his musky scent, which she had never really liked until Nemi’s.
Was he working out before all this?
She just hoped he was by himself and not with some other woman, because if so, she’d seduced him to not go back, suck his dick every morning before he left, and greet him when he came back with a nice proper pussy fuck while praising him for all the hard work he'd done and afterward, a nice home-cooked meal.
What is wrong with her? The once 'I hate him’ demeanor quickly changes when he kisses her.
Was she always this desperate?
Drawing away with a strain of saliva connecting her luscious lips to his fat tip, she stares at Sanemi while fondling his fat balls.
“What with the pout?” He hissed out, his balls tightening from how sensitive they were.
“I wanna kiss.”
“Is that so?” He snorts, watching her tease his length before he draws away. “Then beg for it.” He groans, gazing at her lips that were practically almost touching his.
“No…” She moans as he stares at her seductively.
“I’m not going to kiss you unless you beg for it like a good spoiled brat does.”
“You’re so mean...” She pouted, clinging to his body while tucking her head between the crook of his neck before the words slipped from her lips, saying what she craves.
“Please, kiss me. Sanemi.”
“Again.”
“I-I can't. It’s embarrassing…!” Right as she finishes saying those sentences and plans on clinging to him more, she feels him cup her face, squishing her cheeks together.
“Again.” He emphasizes, moving his face closer to her with those signature eyes of his.
God did he look hot.
“And why don't you also say, my love, just like you did at our wedding.”
‘Ah, he remembers~<3’
“Kiss me, m-my l-l-ove.”
“Hehe, good job.” He said, his breath brushing against her lips as she trembled from the sensation.
"And now for your prize." He slammed his lips against hers. As his tongue wrapped around hers, sucking the wet muscle, her mind began to go blank. She pulls away, lightly pressing Sanemis' shoulder, a strand of saliva linking them as she hurriedly whipped her mouth, unaware that her nose was bleeding.
“God, you're so cute…I could just eat you out.” He smirks while wiping the trail of blood from under her nose.
“Don't you mean you could just eat me up…”
“That too.” Surprised by her husband's words, he kissed her again while bringing her legs together.
“Hm…look at you. I’d say you want more, don't you.” He slips out hurriedly from his pants, shifting her legs upward as best as he can to her chest as she grabs Nemi’s pillow.
“Yes,” She sluggishly said, too drunk on pleasure to care what was happening.
“Just kissing wasn't enough?” He snorts, slapping his length between her slick folds before putting pressure against the entrance.
“No.” She sniffed, burying her face in his pillow. Deliciously inhaling his manly musk that lingers on the pillowcase.
“I should’ve known I would have my hands full with you. A spoiled brat, who's gonna get the worst punishment yet...” He teased, smearing his length with her leaking juice before drawing away, much to her dismay.
Sanemi drank in every soft moan she drew out when thrusting between her velvety thighs. His nose nestled in the crook of her neck, her scent invading his nostrils, not being able to control the moans that slipped out of his mouth.
Jealousy alters his entire evening solely to exemplify to his wife who she should be craving. Just the thought of her calling that damn Sound Hashira’s name while touching herself pissed him off. He was such a hypocrite to say they are nothing but strangers yet the moment her eyes begin to wonder, Sanemi’s has a whole hissy fit for her attention. Which he would never say out loud.
His cock throbs with every thrilling protest and moan she dares muster in an attempt to escape his grasp. She was well aware that it was meaningless. Leading her into a moaning frenzy, absorbing anything Sanemi decides to offer her.
Until she had enough, in a desperate need of release, whining feverishly his name and running her hands up his scarred arms and down his back, tugging him forward in a tight grip.
“Quit whining,” Sanemi hisses, taunting her as he grabs hold of her arms, pinning them over her head to stop her from touching him.
“I-I wanna cum...” She whimpers.
Sanemi nibbled at her earlobe as he continued to thrust between her thighs, his rough thrusts becoming more irregular and uncontrolled, pushing all of his weight down onto her.
His girl, his spoiled little brat, belongs to him and no one else.
“That’s not gonna happen.” Grunts filled her ears as those rough, thick fingers of his gripped her chubby cheeks again, wanting—no, needing—her to make eye contact. Before sliding the other down to her soft tummy to pinch and squeeze her chubby side.
She mewled, as her gummy walls contrasted around nothing, not finding it fair that he was having all the fun while she was suffering.
“No…!”
“Shut up, this is your punishment. You wanna call out another man's name while touching that sluty whole of yours. So you don't get to feel your fat cock brush against your insides. -Hm? You like when I said your cock? Seems you like taking ownership of your things. Too bad that is not going to happen. This cunt is MINES -this whole body is.” He growls lowly, digging his fingers in her soft flesh, making her yelp in protest.
Sure, he was mean to her, but she couldn't help but agree with what her husband said.
I mean, the first time that she met him, she instantly fell for him. She just couldn't help it, wanting to smother this man with love and affection when she saw his scarred body and those enchanting eyes of his.
Her body belongs to him and she hopes his body belongs to her.
Getting a better angle between those doughy thighs of hers, Slinging her thighs over his flushed shoulders. Shit, it felt like Sanemi was on cloud 9 with how soft her body made him feel. It almost feels like he was humping a pillow (forgive me for this imagery).
Her eyes slowly flutter shut as she allows her body to submit to the pleasure, pussy clenched around nothing as his cock slipped between her slick fold, brushing against her clit over and over again until her cunt couldn't help but squirt like never before. She whines and babbles uncontrollably, as she shyly covers her face, embarrassment waves through her when she hears the sound of Sanemi laughing. Making her spam so hard as her thighs grasp around his member while she grips the bedsheet under them.
"What's the matter, princess? Your pampered cunt can't control itself? What a pity. You just look so stupid right now." He breathes heavily against her ear. Submitting to his obnoxious words and brutal thrust, his pre-load dripping dick threatened to burst at any moment until she fell limp, surrendering to the sensation she was feeling.
She gazed into her lover's eyes, resting both her hands tentatively upon his cheeks. Catching Sanemi off guard.
“What are you looking at, brat.”
"You, my darling, I just love you so much," She says breathlessly against his lips, tears welling up in her eyes as she draws him close and glances into his eyes, stroking his damp locks away from those gorgeous eyes.
She slams her lips against his, slipping her tongue into his mouth, enjoying a full-fledged make out session with a stunned Sanemi.
Pulling away from her, he blushes and discreetly wipes his lips before spewing stuttering curses while pumping his cock.
"Tsk- don't say such foolish things so easily, Dummy." He muttered it, hips stuttering, stomach tightening as he kneaded the throbbing red tip over her soft tummy, shooting his load all over her soft skin, seeing his cum reach her swollen breast and over her chin.
“Fuck… As much as I would love to cum in that greedy pussy of yours, I don't plan on taking care of another brat when I have my hands full with one already.” He pants, kissing the leg resting over his shoulder while watching his curvy beauty touch her chin, taking some of his cum on her finger before moving it close to those luscious lips of hers, sucking her cum smeared fingers as she looks up at Sanemi.
Shit was that hot what she had done. Swallowing his saliva, he was too bewitch to say anything for a moment, only staring at her sexy sex-dazed face and those sinful lips of her that he not to long ago seen wrapped around his length.
He was hook. She finally gotten him wrapped around her finger.
“It’s ok. I know you’re a really busy man, so I won't pray you about it. Though maybe next time we could try, you know, so I won't get lonely.” She said, sitting up to clean herself off however right as she spread her legs, showing her soaked cunt Sanemi couldn’t even help himself.
“Hmm…yeah, next time…” He murmured, grasping her hip and pulling her right underneath him. Eagerly stroking his member again, before lining it to her opening.
“Nemi? -Ah!” She jolted, arching her body while gripping the pillow under her. “But, B-but-“
“Shh... there you go princess, in it goes. I know I said I wouldn’t knock you up but I think this is better for the both of us. G-Given ya a kid of your own just might tame your dumbass for the better.” He lolled out, surprising her with a loving smile as he leaned down and took her lips once again as he wrapped her thighs around his waist preparing her for what he had in store.
He struggled with expressing his feelings, especially after what happened to him and his brother when they were young. But it still didn't give him the right to be so cruel to the curvy beauty that actually wanted to be there for him. Maybe as a way of apologizing, Sanemi would have a family with his curvy wife. Hopefully, she’s down for it.
Warnings: Handjob, Mean! Tamaki (at the very end), Pet names (Bunny, Baby, Goddess, Goodboy, Goodgirl, Pretty girl), Degradation, Humiliation, Cosplay-ish, Filming, Masturbation (Solo Male, solo female), Tsundere-ish reader, Unprotected sex, Mention the use of toys, Blowjob, Babytrap-ish, Simp Tama-chan, Dirty talk, Public Display, Jealous! Reader, Confession...?, Breeding kink. Basically, NSFW. 🤷🏻♀️
Also be mindful that I didn't really mention much of the reader's appearance (Besides she's female) since I wanted to keep it vague for everyone to relate as much as possible, though it is definitely for the more voluptuous side of ladies.
Please be mindful that all photos are not mine, but the making of the collage is.
MINORS DNI!!!! 🔞🙅🏻♀️ If you're not comfortable with this, please ignore!
P.S. This is a College AU.
Random thought, but imagine Tamaki x Bully Chubby Reader! Where he met her in college after one of his classes. As he was about to leave the class someone seemed to have bumped into Tamaki making the timid man drop the stuff he was holding as well as himself.
“Watch where you're going!” One of her friends said.
“Ah! I-I-I’m sorry!” The indigo hair man who sat on his knees to pick up the books and paper that scattered the ground said.
“At least stare at her when you apologize.” Another one said.
The moment she saw his flush face and those siren eyes of his, trying so hard to look at her, she was hooked. Fuck.
“S-Sorry.” He says sitting up when he finally grabs all his things, leaving the poor reader stunned. Feeling her knees go weak and her heartbeat fast she knew deep down what that could mean and she wanted to know more about this man.
“Say…who is that guy?”
“Him? Oh he’s Tamaki Amajiki. He’s such a nerdy loser like I heard he hasn't even lost his v-card.” Her friend said, making the whole group chuckle as she just watched the socially awkward man walk out the door.
Not even a week and she had done everything in her power for Tamaki to notice her, doesn’t matter if it was to make a little comment every time he gets called on or gets in his way when he’s going to his seat, having him to shift his way from their bodies pressed up against each other to get to his seat that just so happens to be a few seats away from hers. Catching the cologne he put on that morning and the faint natural manly scent that’s making her go insane.
And when she finally dared to sit next to him and speak, he was a stuttering mess and easily blush just by the sight of her. And how he jumps a bit when she places a hand on his thigh in class while lovingly caressing his thigh and innocently writing down notes and listening to the professor’s lectures as he desperately prays for her to not notice the hard-on he has. Lust filled her every thought from his innocent gesture, his hand trying to shoo hers away until being called on by their professor, having the whole class staring at his flustered expression. In the end, he failed to stop her and almost got caught in the process, leading him to cross his legs together for her to stop teasing him with a cute giggle.
And the moment she found out that Tamaki was working at a cute little convenience store was when things got worse. Conveniently only coming to visit whenever it was his shift, just to buy something to then simply say it was the closest place that sold the product before making a rude insult and leaves to then continue for a couple of days until coming around there with her friend to hang out, sitting in the outdoor chairs with the table that was conveniently next to the big windows that showed the purple hair cashier who was sorting some things. If her friends ask why they always come there she just replies by saying how close it was to their dorms or how she’d be craving some sweets. She refused to let anyone know that the real reason was ‘cause she wanted to see Tama-Chan even though she saw him not even an hour ago.
She basically became a regular that anyone who was working with Tamaki would notice, joking that she may be a stalker, if only they knew….
Though for Tamaki, he became used to her going to his job just to hang around and mess with him, always asking for his help with things she couldn’t reach (even if it was a centimeter away), and accidentally spilling something on the floor, having him mop the area. She would sit across from Tamaki as he took care of customers while reading a magazine or scroll through her phone to then leave with him when his shift was done. Saying she might as well go with him since she just so happens to be leaving too.
One time when she needed help in one of her classes all the girls would recommend Tamaki will do the work if she promise to fuck him, though none of them actually went through with it. Except for her.
Innocently asking for help, he agreed as they headed to his dorm where he sat in his desk chair as she looked through his stuff. As he went to talk and do the work she leaned over his shoulder pretending to be interested in the work, breath fanning down his sensitive ears that made his face turn red and his body jolted. And so began to play with him, telling him to continue explaining what she needed to do while misplacing her hands down his chest and back up to affectionately tug on his hair just as a whimper rips through his throat.
She couldn’t even help it anymore and just sank to her knees right in front of him, spreading his legs apart to see a nice bulge. Having adoring eyes, when seeing how average of an uncircumcised dick he had, with lovely breeder balls before flicking her gaze back at him. Covering his flushed face as she simply cooed him sweet nothing as her feather-light touched the inner of his thighs. Eyes rolled to the back of his head when she skillfully slip her hand around his length, “This is for me, right Senpai?”
She smirked when seeing Tamaki nod shyly, tears in the corner of his eyes while the image in front of him of the reader on her knees as she sloppily deepthroats him with a thrilling expression plaster on her face.
This led Tamaki to do numerous sinful acts that she directed him to do. One time doing a personal video chat for his bully, wearing a skimpy outfit with red bondage around those thick thighs. From the outside, he seemed ashamed and bashful with what she enforced yet deep down he loved it, his nipples erect and a hard-on that was already leaking.
“Oh my God, you actually wore it? Haha! Such a pathetic pet. Go on say it, say your bunny dick wants some pussy~”
“M-My bunny d-d-dick wants some p-pussy…” His thrusts get rapid.
“Great! But whose pussy do you want? Tell me!”
“Ah! Y-yours.” He stutters out.
“Huh? Speak up. I wanna hear you?”
“You…”
“-Louder!”
“Y-YOURS!”
“Hm~ Such a good boy~” She squeals, praising the timid man while instructing what to do and how to do it.
“M-Mistress, could I p-please cum?”
“Hm~ You remember to ask first. You're such a pathetic guy, allowing yourself to be treated this way. No wonder no one respects you.” He whimpers, mewling as he now thrusts his hips to his close fist. “Of course, you can cum but you better show me or I’ll get mad and punish you!”
“Yes, of course.” He panted out, eyes glossed over, tongue sticking out as he moved the camera to show the throbbing member as he continued to flap off.
“Ah!” Tamaki grunts, load after load of cum was being milked out and all over his toned stomach as he tries to suppress his crying and moans with his hand.
“Hm~ Such a good boy. Wish I was there so I could toy with you, give you ruined orgasms.” She sighs happily, lounging on her bed with a lewd expression and a hand inside her shorts. She couldn’t help but finally toy with her throbbing clit that she neglected throughout her and Tamaki’s heated video chat. The moment they hung up, she came within chanting his name as her face buried against the shirt that she ‘borrowed’ from him, Inhaling his manly scent from when he went to workout.
Here the reader was strolling along the side of the road to Tama-Chan’s job while thinking of all the things she wanted him to do tonight. Walking inside the sliding doors expecting to see him standing or restocking the shelves but was surprised to see a woman talking to him who seems to actually be looking at her eyes and not stuttering. Tamaki. Her Tamaki, who has social anxiety and is afraid to meet someone in the eye and sweats when the spotlight is on him for too long. Wait- did he just chuckle at something that girl said. Oh. Hell. No.
Suddenly hearing a crashing sound behind them, they turned around to Tamaki noticing his bully had accidentally spilled something once again.
“Hey, worker, you might want to stop talking and clean this up before someone gets hurt.” She grunts out, puffing her cheeks with her arms crossed as he bowed goodbye at the woman before turning back to her.
“Ah! W-What are you…Mhm!” As he walked past her with a mop at hand to clean up the mess she’d done, Tamaki was pushed against the freezer door.
“Mhm…?” She teasingly nipped his earlobe, her hand that wrapped around his waist traveled up to his chest, groping his man boobies before fondling it roughly. Her fingers toyed with his nipples, pinching and tugging on them before rubbing her thumb over the perky bud.
Leaning her head against his shoulder, Tamaki lay back on her, desperately trying to stifle the moans he wanted to let out.
He could hear her inhale his scent as she dropped her hand down past the apron he was wearing and to the bulge that was already in his sweats.
“W-we can’t, we’re out in p-public…”
He struggled to stop her, hand wrapped around her wrist though was answered by a tongue licking a stripe up his neck to his Adam's apple that she left a hickey.
"Hm, that’s fine with me, Tama-Chan. So that bitch you were too friendly with could see how wimpy you are from being manhandled by a girl." She giggles, giving a mischievous glint in her eyes.
Tamaki knew what she was implying and was trying desperately to get her away, though the stronghold on her wrist was slowly becoming weak, far too horny to stop her hand from jerking him off.
After all, it’s been a whole week since she’d milked him, keeping him restrained in his chastity cage from the last punishment she claimed he’d done.
“She was only asking for directions.” He whimpers in distress not wanting to mess this up. I mean she just took off the restraints.
“Tsk- yeah right, a girl like her, I’ve seen her coming around here every day just to get what a drink or something? To then ask you for direction as if she doesn’t know her way around here! Please, she just wanted an excuse to speak to you, what a loser.” She argued.
She definitely needs to pick up tips from that bitch, who almost stole Tama-Chan from her.
“S-She was?”
“No duh! Of course, she was - I mean who in their right mind would hang out in this place all the time?” She huffed out while crossing her arms.
“Uh…you do.” He glanced over to her, right as her demeanor changed. “Do you like someone here…?”
“W-What, O-Of course not! As though anyone in here is my type!” She lashes out, nestling her face between the crook of his neck so he couldn’t see her flush expression.
“Do you also do these things to people who aren’t your type…?”
“W-What?”
“Nothing…” She was shocked to hear him speak his opinion since he always had gone with everything she asked without much fuss besides to comment how wrong it is to do it in an excluded area.
“...I only do these types of things to my pet who has been really bad.” She’d reply.
Her hand made its way under the sweats he wore, pushing down the fabric, springing out the already pre-cum oozing flush cock.
“Pl-please…”
He just couldn't help but place a hand over his mouth to cover his moans as he finally submitted, shamefully rutting his hips against her hand, loving the way his cock fit perfectly wrapped around it that made his lower abdomen flex.
“What do you want, Baby?” He shuddered, his face burning up from embarrassment as her breath fanned over his sensitive ear. “Y-you know…”
“I really don't, Tama-Chan. So why won’t you tell your Mistress.” She said, sounding innocent though he knew she had a smirk on her face.
“I-I want you t-to make me cum.”
“Such a good boy~”
She shoved him against the freezer door once again, having his hands press against the door and his back arched as she coddles close behind him, legs as well spread wide as though she was giving him a shakedown.
She pumps the heaving rod a few times, seeing the blush foreskin stretch from the weeping tip and back wrapped around it. Smearing his pre around the head and to his pisshole that she began to toy with. God, was she a freak to value this sight and for her lower part tingling when he tried to break free. What a loser~<3
“Ah!” He leans back to her front again, as she coos filthy insults and encourages him to continue by gently placing short kisses all over his jawline as his hips frantically rutted as he felt his balls tighten. “Right there.”
He moaned shamelessly as he emptied himself right there at work, on the freezer door of the beverages, slowly sliding down to the long-forgotten soda spill he was supposed to clean.
Finally turning around to see a pissed-off reader greedily licking her fingers while giving a death glare at him. He knew whatever he did, he fuck up.
“I-I said I was sorry…”
“I don’t know what you're talking about.” For the past thirty minutes, Tamaki has been apologizing for the little situation that happened at the convenience store however all his pretty chubby bunny seems to want to do is ignore him. Walking a few steps ahead with her arms crossed and her nose sticking up.
“Bunny, please I don’t like it when you're mad at me. …Are you listening…? …Hey…Hey… - tsk - Listen t-to me!” He whisper shouted taking a hold of her arm so she could face him. She was shocked by the sudden outburst. Sure, she knew she could be a brat at times but she had never seen the side of Tamaki before, always being the kind and timid man who seems to care for her. Such an attentive man~ But this mean side of his…
“Don’t worry my curvy Goddess. You know Tama-Chan is really sorry for not noticing.” He cooed, gently stroking her chin while peering at her bewildered expression. Her luscious lips, which he had seen wrap around his length numerous times, were suck between her teeth.
Oh god did he look hot towering over her with that lewd expression and red face it was making her go mad.
“I’ll make it up to you. Ok, pretty girl?” Still, in a haze, she mindlessly nodded as Tamaki took a hold of her hand and dragged her to his dorm.
"Mine, mine, my pussy, s-so tight, so warm, so wet." He throaty moaned, half of the words muffled from her panties that she’d stuffed.
Roughly he pounds her into the mattress, clearly making up for lost time.
“You think all this is for you? Ha! Yeah right, you’re such a loser that even all the girls in the campus wouldn’t fuck you. You should be grateful I’m even giving you my time and day. You, you, loser.” She grabs his shoulders, leaving red crescents from her nails on his pale skin. He hissed from the pain.
Finally having enough he discards the used pantie from his mouth, and needing for her to hear everything he has to say, he grip the back of her neck pinning her forward so her face was close to his. "Don't keep my pussy away from me ever again." He grunts against her lips before shoving his tongue down her throat, licking her teeth as he slobbers all over her. Foreheads touching one another, as she cries into Tamaki’s mouth from the harsh poundings her pussy is taking.
The sound of his balls slapping heavily on her ass is practically deafening and her thighs ache from being pressed so close to her chest. Yet she loved it, still wanting his attention on her but was still mad and stubborn to move pass him talking to some girl.
“You probably even wanted that whores number with how happy you look, staring at her without once looking away or stuttering. You never looked at me like that or spoke to me without stumbling over your words. Do you really not like me that much, Tamaki…?”
“Kya!!” Suddenly her body was flipped to her side, as one of her legs was brought up and over Tamaki’s shoulder as he re-enters her.
“What are you talking about? I could never stop thinking about you. You ruined me for anyone else.” He confessed clinging to the leg that hung over his shoulder, peppering kisses all over her calf. “Wanna carry my baby? I'll do it, make you a mommy - hmph - just to prove that you're the only one for me. I'll give you as many as y-you want." Punctuating his words by leaning over her body and snapping his hips harder to aim for her g-spot with his eyes glazed over and a blissful smile plasters on his face as he wails and weakly praises.
The need to breed his pretty girl is high, Tamaki has wanted this since the moment they had gotten closer.
He's embarrassed at how desperate he is for the curvy beauty, doesn't matter how many times she was a bitch to him or a bully, Tamaki just wants to mark his goddess to keep her for himself and if that means he has to play dirty, so be it. He’ll make his bully a mommy.
“Y-yeah right as if I’ll let you breed me, you stupid -Ah!” She couldn’t even finish her sentence, too caught up with how he kept kissing her entrance with the tip.
"Oh, but your pussy got so much tighter when I said that, could it be you want that too? Wanna have the guy you bullied babies?” He layed his surprising toned body over hers, dick pounding her cunt real big and wide for her man’s cock, as he grabbed her breasts, tummy, hips, thighs, anything that he can squeeze to hold onto tightly so he could go nice and deep, rough, and mean on that spoiled hole. His mind slowly became mush from the loving feeling of his fingers sinking into her plump body. “I promise I’ll be the best daddy and husband.” He chants, getting louder as his thrusts get messier, too caught up on his own fantasy. He couldn’t even help but fondle her tummy and squeeze her against his body. “Huh? What are you talking about? Getting me pregnant. And you being my husband. All while we’re doing it.” She grunts, glancing at those beautiful indigo eyes.
“-Tsk, are you that stupid? -I’m not even surprised by your foolishness, I was the one who had to do your schoolwork for the whole semester. So, why don’t I make things clear for you? -Hey, look at me when I’m talking.” He said in a composed manner, forcefully cupping her chubby cheeks so she’d have to stare at those sharp eyes of his. He even moved his bangs so she had a better view. Oh, how her stomach did a flip, and her cunt couldn’t help but also flutter around his cock.
Is it bad that she wants Tamaki to dominate her? Maybe even treat her like a mindless tramp that only craves his attention and dick. The answer is yes.
“What I’m saying is I want a life with you; no more of this not knowing what we are. Just me and you married, and t-this tummy swollen with our baby,” He squeezed her pudgy tummy. “And I know I have to say this at your most vulnerable moment so I can finally get the truth out of you.” He admits burying his face in her neck, suddenly feeling embarrassed. “S-Stupid…” Tears blur her sight as she covers her face from flusteredness.
“So tell me, my sexy Goddess, you wanna be together? Be my pretty mommy, wi-ife, and my Mistress who punishes me when I make mistakes. Hm?” He pinned her hands to the side of her head forcing her to see his intense stare. That seemed to have broken down her stubborn walls, as she shrieks with ecstasy.
“Yes! I wanna be your woman. I-I wanna be your wife and baby mama, Tama-chan~ I-I-I Lov-” She wasn't able to finish talking as Tamaki plunges forward and kiss those sobbing lips as his thirst got sloppy and fast until his cock nudges something soft and gooey that made her entire body spasm and cunt flutter.
As fast as he was to kiss her, Tamaki quickly pulls away. Head falls back. Those big hands of his gripped her thick thighs twitched. His mouth drops open as he lets out a loud moan(s). “Uh, that's my girl~” Tamaki chants, over and over again right before he cums inside her gripping the side of her body tight, being the only time he forgets his timid persona of gentleness and leaves marks on her doughy skin while hoping that seeing her jiggly body would calm him down but instead betrayed him as he cums, trapped between her legs as they wrapped around his thin hips. Just to finally have him give in and moan into her mouth while letting her creamy cunt milk all his load out of him.
“For you. All this is for you. It’s always have been.”
“I-I hate you!”
“Love you too~”
------------------
Tamaki was taken aback when he realized how delighted she'd grown with their relationship from a public standpoint. Sitting directly next to him in lecture halls and the lunchroom, and going to and from class with him. She even started working at the same place that she hung out at where Tamaki worked. Talking about him even to her friends while flashing the promise ring he had gotten her (since Tamaki claimed he needs to study hard to graduate to get a better job to take care of her and when they make a little family).
And Tamaki, who is so whipped for his pretty curvy beauty that he doesn't mind helping her with her work (while also doing some Senpai and Kouhai role-playing). Always cooking for her, and being the cute boyfriend who holds her hand as they walk next to each other, forehead kisses whenever he haves to leave her and wishing her good luck when the new semester started, and if she has good grades in this semester he'll reward her by being rough and mean as much as she please in bed cuz we all know she has no morals or respect for herself when it comes to this man.
Warning: Unprotected sex, Dirty talk-ish, Pet names (Little Thing/My Dear/Little Girl/Little Maid), Anal play, Anal sex, Full Nelson, Reverse Cowgirl, Confession~<3, Rejection...?, Alucard being called Master, Touch Starve (You needy girl), Praise kink-ish, FLUFF (At the very end). Basically, NSFW. 🤷🏻♀️
Also be mindful that I didn’t really mention much of the reader’s appearance (Besides she’s a female) since I wanted to keep it vague for everyone to relate as much as possible, though it is definitely for the more voluptuous side of ladies. 😊
Please be mindful that the photos are not mines, but the making of the collage is.
MINOR DNI!!! 🔞🙅🏻♀️ If you’re not comfortable with this, please ignore!
Alucard with a Homeless. Chubby Reader! It was a cold winter night in London, inches of snow falling all around the poor girl who was huddling under the cardboard box fort that she made, struggling to stay awake. She hasn't eaten for almost three days, and her body, trembling from the cold as her fingertips become numb to the touch. She was scared, subconsciously knowing what that meant.
She leaned her head forward, nestling it to her knees to feel some type of warmth as she heard the sound of snowy footsteps entering the alleyway, hoping that the person could not see her. Until hearing the heavy footsteps stop right in front of her.
“My, my, what do we have here?” Staring up, she saw a tall, raven-haired man with a black business suit and a long red trench coat with the same color of hat and tie with fancy white gloves. In her eyes, he seemed like an attractive nobleman. “What’s a little thing like you doing out here? You would surely freeze to death if you stayed here, without doubt in need of a nice warm place. Tell me… Do you want to come with me? The choice is all yours.” She couldn't believe it, someone who was willing enough to help give her shelter.
Tiredly she weakly nodded, standing up as she felt something wrap around her form, seeing that the kind man took off his red coat and had wrapped it around her body before crouching to sweeping her off her feet. Too numb and weak to complain, she simply snuggling close to the man's body in hopes to grasp some of his body heat as he took her away.
“Damn it, Alucard. Another one, and a human for that fact! Have you forgotten you don't make the decisions?”
“The poor girl made the choice herself.” She didn't want to offend anyone, so she kept her head down to avoid getting on anyone's bad side.
“Tsk- Fine.”
“Don't worry, Countess, the girl would be under my care.” The blond noblewoman just agreed and walked away from the scene.
A year later here she was now, happily cleaning away, waiting patiently for a certain vampire that she’s been looking for all day. Today was a special day for she has something special for her Master, something she put to heart for everything he’s done for her as well as saying something that has been on her mind.
When he brought her to this mansion he had led her to the conveniently close bedroom next to his, having who she now knows as Walter to bring her a meal and clothes. while she was eating the supper that Walter brought, Alucard just sat across from her, entrance from the now freshen up woman who’s happily eating her meal like it is her last before quickly coming back from his thoughts and begin to lay out the ground rules for her: she was to be a maid and complete all tasks he was to give her. She would not be allowed to leave the grounds of the manor. And she is to obey his every orders and refer to him as 'Master.' Which she agrees, it wasn't as though she had anywhere else she could go besides she didn't mind having such an attractive man as her Master.
She hears the well-known sadistic laugh from the man she’s been waiting for. Coming back from his mission, his footsteps echoed through the halls, making her go all giddy. Standing tall in front of her was the raven-haired man, with his red flock overcoat hugging his lean toned figure.
“I’m back my little maid. I hope you’ve been good while I was gone. Have you done what I told you to do? ” Ignoring her eager demeanor purposely, Alucard heads to his throne to quench his thirst. Removing those orange yellow ombre sunglasses and floppy red fedora as he watched her pour him a glass.
“I did and I even cleaned your room a bit. See?” She nodded using her hand to present the nice and tidy room. Taking a glance around, indeed it was a cleaned room with even some scented candles lit up. “So it seems, such a good little thing~” He praised, taking a sip of the ‘wine’.
Pep-talking to herself in front of this intimidating man. She gave herself confidence to say what’s been on her mind.
“Um, Master, there is something I wanted to give you.” She said, fiddling with the gift behind her back.
“Oh?”
“Surprise! Happy one-year anniversary.” She cheerfully smiles, showing him the wrapped gift in her hands. She had to fight tooth and nail for someone to buy her some wrapping paper because she was not allowed to leave the mansion grounds. Thank you, Seras.
“Our one-year anniversary?”
“Uh, yeah. You know since meeting each other and being in each other's life. And…taking me in…” She awkwardly said, suddenly finding all this silly. Seeing him open the gift to reveal a handmade charm with what seems to also have one of his gun's bullets.
“I hope you like it. It’s just a little something to say how thankful I am to you, and what way then to give you a little something that you could carry with you whenever you leave for a mission.” She shyly fiddles with her fingers as she takes note of his reaction.
Well, this was her chance to say what she had been wanting to do for some time.
“There is something else I wanted to say. Something I’ve been thinking about for some time.” Now his attention was on her and she was slowly feeling the pressure. “...I wanted to let you know that I… I'm falling for you .” Still, he stayed silent, gaze fixated on her as he knowingly left her alone with her scrambled thoughts.
This was a mistake, he didn't seem all that sentiment by her gift, or her confession, did he even hear it?
Was she overthinking everything? She suddenly felt like a fool, a moron to blur that out to her savior who probably didn’t even see her in that way.
“It’s quite late, Master… I should head to my room. And thank you for everything you have done for me.” She curtsies before quickly turning around to leave his room, wanting to leave as fast as she could, feeling her face heat up and her eyes watering knowing full well if she were to blink they would fall. And she’ll be damn to let her master see her in such a state, thinking that she couldn’t handle a rejection well or considered clingy.
Right as she was able to open the door half way, a gloved hand quickly goes and close the slightly open door while pressing her against it. It was silent for a moment as she felt his breath brush against her ear. “Oh? And where are you going? Did your Master wish you off?” He questioned. “Come.”
She absentmindedly took this man’s hand, following him back to his throne and planting her over his lap as he sat down, much to her embarrassment andexcitement. Alucard had done this many times, at random moments whenever he arrived, asking if she finished the task he ordered before rewarding her with pats on the head. “You know…I’ve read your mind, the things you think about, and the thoughts you have of…me.”
He mentioned, taking a strand of hair bringing it close to his lips, lingering the piece there while staring into her surprised expression.
She averted her gaze, ashamed that he had known all this time about her loving thoughts of him. “Is that so…” Slowly Alicard soften the smirk on his face to a smile as he lets go of her hair to cup her face, bringing her close. “Of course, and if I may be honest and confess as well, I've had similar thoughts, though…far more sensual and tainted for a little girl like you.”
She couldn’t help but tremble while rubbing her thighs together as she ran a hand under his red frock overcoat and charcoal suit jacket, craving to be close to this man. Yearning to know what those dirty thoughts could possibly be with her, and of them together.
“What is it, my dear?" Alucard asked, noticing those doughy thighs of hers crossed together as she clung to his upper body, moaning and nuzzling in his chest. "Could it possibly be how aroused you are? Have you forgotten that I can also smell your scent and all the times you were aroused?" His chuckles, grin widened as he leaned close to her ear. With that, he snaked an arm around her waist, drawing her close to him and squishing her chubby cheeks more, wanting to see that fish face expression.
Peering into her teary eyes, face growing close, it was as though he was in a trance as he placed his lips on hers, kissing her gently and lovingly as she passionately closed her eyes.
She couldn't help but moan quietly as his lips trailed down to her neck, nibbling and lapping over her racing pulse. His hands worked their way up and over the top of her uniform as she placed an arm around his neck, burrowing her face in the crook of his neck. She couldn't help but moan at his touch. Those massive hands of his engulfs her breasts, massaging them so tenderly until eventually ripping the top of her uniform, the blouse buttons scattering all around their feet while exposing her.
“A-Ah! Master…”
"There’s no need to call me Master anymore, my dear." He responded in a soothing voice as he sat up a bit to remove his signature red overcoat. She quickly snuggled back against him when he was fully at ease. “Call me by my name, or would you like to call me by some pet name?”
He continues to play with her tits, fondling them till they were erect, then pinching the hard buds and tugging on them as she lovingly gasps while ranking her fingers through his ravened hair, giving it a nice tug as a raspy animalistic groan came from him as he brought his face into her neck, kissing and lapping over her sweet spot until pretty peppered bruises scattered all around her neck and collar bone. She was unaware that she was slowly making this man go insane by her intoxicating scent and soft body as those gloved hands of his continue to ravish her.
Feeling confined one more, Alucard stands them up and begins unbuttoning his vest, sliding it off, followed by untying his cravat and slipping it off his collar. His crimson gaze constantly watched hers as she bit her swollen lips with an impatient look, but as soon as he finished, he turned her around, forcing her upper torso pressed against the throne armrest and her ass sticking up.
Alucard only chuckles at her feeble attempt to hide her ass from him, though he could smell her arousal and he didn’t want to waste anymore time that they already had. Moving her pantie to the side, he smiled excitedly from what he saw.
“Oh? Look at this sinful hole. It seems to have been touched before.” He casually mentions, knowing full well what he was implying yet wanting to tease her.
“Noooo…! Please forgive me. You must think so lowly of me for doing such a shameful act. I-I was just curious!” She frantically stutters out, tears gathering at the corner of her eyes as she tried so hard to pull down her skirt but is stopped as she feels her Master's hands continue to grope her ass cheeks even more insistently, spreading her globes apart to see the pucker muscle.
“Hush now, my dear.” He stood tall once again, loom over her curvy form. “Now tell me, how well did it make you feel?” He would question.
Watching the timid beauty tremble, as he takes off his gloves; confessing everything to him and how strange it felt to toy with her ass at first but as she continued it felt surprisingly good. “Hiya!” She cried out surprised by a cold hand coming in between her ass to the delicate ring as Alucard peppered soft kisses over her temple and cheeks, in hopes to make her feel comfortable with what he was going to do.
‘Relax little one, you are safe with me.’ She let out a heavenly moan, hands gripping the armrest as she felt the thick finger slip into her ass till he was knuckle deep. “Ah, p-please don't stop~” Soft panting and mewls left her mouth, slowly losing her control of what was coming out of it.
For a split second, she shifts her hips to spread her legs as far as they could go, so her savior could have a better angle in pounding his long finger. Moaning helplessly while taking hold of his free hand to play with her sensitive nipples: pinching and cupping them till they were a nice shade darker.
"So much better." A sadistic smile spreading across her face as he stuffed another finger inside her, thrusting in deep while spreading and stretching the tight hole.
Alucard doesn't want to hurt his precious plaything.
He watched her hips move, pressing against his thick fingers, trying to sync their movements as best as she could, wanting all the pleasure she could get from her man.
"My, such an eager hole." Alucard dared himself to go deeper, a long tongue sliding out from between his thin lips and lapping the area dangerously close to her tight ring, running up her heated region and against the stuffed hole as his fingers continued to drive into her.
"Alucard, I-I can’t take it anymore. Please, touch me here." Cupping his hand again and slowly leading it down her pudgy tummy and close to her dripping cunt. However before he could touch her he quickly pulls his hands and tongue away, much to her dismay.
She was a shocked by his sudden distance, suddenly feeling too exposed and wanting to hide herself from his serious gaze as he held her in place, knowing everything she was suddenly thinking when he pulled away. "Why did you stop…Did I do something wrong...?”
"Because I need you to know that I’m not a good man, little thing. I murdered countless creatures and tortured dozens more. With no remorse to none." He confessed, expecting her to fear him, to say what a monster he was, a killer (which he is), and finally admit that he wasn't someone she wanted, but what this naïve, poor girl did instead was hug him. Hugging the man who ripped her button-up long-sleeve blouse open, exposing her bare erect breasts and soft tummy against his slim, well-built torso while staring up at him with tears running down her face.
"Y-You’re wrong! You are a good guy. You took me in and gave me a warm place to stay and a job when you could have ignored me, abandoned me there to die, and yet you didn't." She couldn't bear hearing Alucard say such mean things to himself. Sure, what he’s done was wrong, but she never actually saw him do it, so in her mind, he is still her savior, the man who gave her shelter when no one else did, someone who she loves.
He stared at her, again with not much emotion that she could tell, until she heard his dark laughter with that crooked smile. "My, such an innocent girl you are, my dear." He petted her head as she whimpered quietly, enjoying the physical affection he would only give her once in a blue. Yet she wanted more and in the place that tingles. "Then are you ready for more?" He huskily asks, drawing a shiver of desire down her body.
Kneeling down, he flipped the material over himself so he was faced with her sexy legs, kissing and nibbling his way up her thigh-highs to her panties, he sighs affectionately when he noticed she was wearing a garter undies set.
“Hm, such lewd garments for a little maid to wear. I’m so happy I was able to see such a revealing outfit before anyone else could. Not that anyone is going to see this side of you…” He had her leaning against him, one of her legs over his shoulder and the other struggling to stay on her tippy toes as she sheepishly clutched the hem of her skirt while hearing him inhale and exhale a few more time, the warm breaths brushing along her slick folds over and over again till her juice fell to the ground. That was enough for Alucard to stop toying with her and turned the curvy beauty around to face the throne. Forcing her to lean against the chair as he ripped off the uniform, startling her as the torn material dropped to the ground.
“Since I’m a bad man I won’t allow myself to touch such a pure hole of yours since only good guys could, however, for your rear I can’t say the same. Such a naughty little behind we have here. Definitely suitable for a bad man. Now…What do you say we ruin that pretty ass of yours?”
As desperate as she was, she just hoisted her lower body up to visibly show her ass, practically offering herself to her savior, which had the ravened hair man smirking in delight as he finally gave in, pumping his length.
"You want this, darling?" He chuckles darkly as he rubs his member against her ass, covering the length with his saliva and her flowing pussy juice, exerting pressure on her tight hole before abruptly drawing away, tormenting the whiny little girl beneath him. She swayed her ass in frustration, attempting to push his cock inside herself, but was stopped by Alucard, who drew away from her greedy hole once more.
“Not so fast, little thing. Beg for the big bad vampire to fuck your tight little hole. Or we’ll stop right here.”
“Ma-Alucard, please…no…”
Without hesitation, he stuffed two fingers inside her asshole and began to thrust in, pushing as deep within as those long fingers could before pulling as quickly away. Just to give her a taste.
“Nhg…! Y-you’re so mean!” She cried out, arching her hips higher to feel more pleasure.
“Just say the word and all your dreams will be fulfilled.”
"Please, Alucard, please, touch my sinful hole." She finally surrendered, sobbing in anguish while attempting to hold his hand. Desiring physical contact. Alucard finally gave in, aligning himself to her tight entrance, and pushed in, thrusting his cock into her warm ass, growling loudly as her warm walls clamped down around his fat cock, almost as though melting him.
“Yes!” She screeched out, as she clenched her hands into fists and pressed her forehead to the chair's armrest. As Alucard takes her ass that has her toes curling and her cunt quivering as the need to stuff her pussy crawled up on her. Feeling empty and full at the same time.
She wanted more—no, needed more from her lover, and if that meant being greedy and taking a bit of control, so be it. Beginning to fuck herself onto his beefy dick, moans slipping out and her tongue soon followed as well, sticking out while keeping hold of his wrist to tug him closer and guide his cock far deeper, which he quickly took note of.
"Are you that needy, little one? Quenching your thirst by bouncing yourself on a dangerous vampire member? Hmmm?" He mocks her, chuckling sadistically as he quickly takes hold of the situation, hooking his strong arms around her knees, hands meeting behind her head while spreading her into a full nelson. "Nhg!" She was struggling to keep hold of him as he thrust into her tight entrance much faster and harder.
Her ass felt stretched and full by Alucard's cock, feeling every thrust he’d given her now limp body. She'd felt those thick ridges of his cock rubbing against the sensitive walls with every impact he made on her ass. And those thick thighs of his, slapping against her ass, making her mind go into a daze as her tongue lolled out, trailing saliva down her smooshed breast.
The odd sensational pleasure of Alucard’s cock had her toes curling up against her ears as his member touched the back of her cervix, making her cunt clench and drool around nothing, begging for the same pleasure which Alucard seems to have saw. "Is little thing’s empty hole weeping for some attention too?" He teases.
"Yes~<3"
"Then shall I try and be a bit good so it can have the same fullness as its friends having?"
"Yes, please do~<3" She absent-mindedly said.
"Then it’s a promise until the Countess gives me another order." He guarantees it. For he still must not disobey Integra's commands.
"Look at my obedient little thing." He cooed as he sat them back down at the throne. With his hands securely clutching her doughy hips, he bounces her up and down at a steady pace, drawing her closer to him. With her newfound ferocity, she leaned back to crush her lips onto his, causing him to groan once more. She sighed in frustration as she drew away, gently murmuring, "Alucard..."
Hearing her sweet whine escape, calling his name while staring up at him with a pleading expression begging him once more to just play with her pussy.
“Remember my dear, only good men are allowed to touch such a pure hole,” She cried out upset by what she was hearing, wanting to feel his big slender fingers in her heated cunt. “But bad guys could guide his little thing by using her hand.” He smirks, finding a loophole to his own rule. Covering his hand on hers, he slithered their hand down to her wet entrance to collect her juice and up to her neglected bundle of nerves making her moan in pleasure.
She clutched the throne armrest below them from the brutal force of his poundings and the sensation of her fingers rubbing her messy clit as she tried her hardest not to make a sound fearing that someone might hear them and come investigate it, catching their heated scene (do you really think someone would really investigate the sounds coming from Alucard room?).
Yet Alucard was having none of that as he pulled their fingers away and to her wet entrance plugged two of her fingers inside making her break the silence by a loud and drawn-out moan she was sure would wake the dead.
A satisfied smile plasters his face as he again pulls away from her weeping cunt trailing back to the throbbing clit, pinching it in between their fingers, rapidly flicking the bud back and forth until Alucard let go of her hand while ordering her to continue rubbing her clit to as he gave her ass all the harsh smack he could. Doing so to make her clench even more around his cock as he continued to pound into her, til she reached her climax.
"Hiya! I love you!" She shrieked, legs trembling, as her pussy and ass pulsated around nothing and his member, his warm cum pouring out and into her ass.
Alucard couldn't take it anymore, feeling the tight ring grasp around his member trying to push him away yet he quickly had her sit all the way down to show dominance while burying his fangs in her neck to contain his grumbles and growls from echoed through the room as he continue riding out his orgasm.
Finally pulling away, he gracefully puts her down in his coffin. As he couldn't help but wickedly smile while watching his cum trickled down the side of her ass and mixed with her sopping juice.
"Oh my, such a slutty hole, my dear." She barely heard what he said, far too distracted by the ringing in her ears and the white spots clouding her vision.
Leaning down, he pet her head as he kisses her temple, praising her for how well she took it. As Alucard was about to stand up to grab her a cloth to clean up their aftermath, he stopped when he felt a hand holding his wrist, making him turn around and glance at the dazed girl. "Could you stay with me, Alucard? Stay with me until I at least go to sleep?" She shyly asked, moving his hand up to caress her cheek.
"Very well, my dear." Alucard said. Reassuringly, running his thumb over her heated cheek before pulling away to grab a wet cloth.
Such a benevolent, innocent, and naïve woman, Alucard associates himself with, believing his every word while claiming to love the man who keeps her in somewhat of a birdcage. Such a touchy and desperate little girl who craves his attention, yet he doesn't seem bothered by the thought. In fact, he seems to be thrilled to have her in his coffin, half naked with his cum running down.
Though at first, Alucard claimed it was out of pity when he first brought the poor girl to the manor, but it seemed different in Sir Integra’s eyes.
How he loomed over her through the shadows, watching her every move, and how his Master now has to force him to go on these missions he’s ordered to go, leaving not too long so he makes it on time to see the curvy beauty patiently waiting for him.
Alucard gently ran his fingers through her hair as she slept soundly, cuddling up next to him as he stroked her chubby cheek. Leaning in close, he place a soft and tender kiss on her parted lips.
Maybe he’ll keep his little curvy beauty as an adorable trophy wife.
Warnings: Unprotected sex, dirty talk, Pet kink, Pet names (Baby, Mama Pup, Puppy), Public Display, Caught, DDLG-ish, Strength kink...?, Dom!Deku, Mentions Oral (Female receiving), Mentions the use of toys, you are a mommy, Breeding kink, Babytrapping, Jealous!Deku(for the first half), Jealous!Reader (just a small part), Possessive!Deku, Masturbation...? (Solo-ish male), Masochism-ish (The reader slowly enjoys being humiliated), The beginning of Master/Pet...? Basically, NSFW. 🤷🏻♀️
Also be mindful that I didn't really mention much of the reader's appearance (Besides she's female) since I wanted to keep it vague for everyone to relate as much as possible, though it is definitely for the more voluptuous side of ladies.
Please be mindful that all photos are not mine, but the making of the collage is.
MINORS DNI!!!! 🔞🙅🏻♀️ If you're not comfortable with this, please ignore!
Ex-Husband Izuku Midoriya with a chubby reader! who's been divorced from each other for over 4 and a half years yet that never stops him.
“Hi.”
“Hey.” They both awkwardly greeted one another.
“Thank you for agreeing to watch them tonight, I wasn't sure if you were working late again…” She shyly mentioned, fiddling with the long trench coat she was wearing, staring everywhere besides her ex-husband's tired gaze.
Izuku Mirdoriya, her ex-husband had grown so well since UA, sporting a much kept tame curly top, his whole body still kept in shape buffed up and so much taller (That no matter how tall you are he’s taller than you 😆). His freckles still were prominent on his cheeks, and the once innocent appeal was now tired and gloomy that he couldn't hide from her.
Izuku ran his fingers through his thick green locks while taking a step closer to her. The lighting that shine through the living room made her eyeshines and gave him a glimpse of her dolled up face, serving a look that was equivalent to a loving warm tone.
“They are my kids. I’ll always make time for them…” He reassured, pressing his lips together while shyly looking away before continuing, “...and you.”
Izuku cleared his throat, glancing back at her as he crossed his strong scarred arms across his broad chest. “J-Just because of our circumstances doesn't change a thing.”
Shyly she nodded averting his gaze while clutching her purse, chills ran through her body from how smooth his voice sounded. It’s one of the things she found most attractive about her ex-husband. Missing dearly his morning voice which was so deep and raspy.
She awkwardly shifted her weight from one foot to the other as she tried to balance herself on these unbearable high heels, hoping that her ex-husband won't notice.
It’s not that she wasn't in love with her Izuku, trust me the relationship was filled with love; she was still in love with him and he was still in love with her. The thing is, by being the #1 hero his work took up a lot of his time, basically a whole 24/7 job which he couldn't give to her or to Riku and Hana.
And she got sick of it, wanting, needing, and craving physical touch and her man's attention yet couldn't get. Spending a number of nights alone in their bed, wondering if he had forgotten about them and if he was safe. She couldn't bear it even though she convinced herself that she could handle being a wife to a man whose job threatened his life daily.
But sadly, she couldn’t handle it anymore, and with no surprise filed for divorce, handing the papers to Midoriya who wasn't expecting this, yet didn't complain, only quietly signing the paper with certain terms. Ouch…
She kept the house and he gets to see the kids whenever he wants. And that meant this occasion.
Since Izuku knew he couldn't be there all the time Izuku couldn't help himself from secretly telling his son to at any means not allow his mother to be with any other man. But in a simpler way which his son could understand, going as far as telling him to just give them his father's phone number. And his son did exactly that, one time having a random cashier wave him down as his mom was grabbing the bags, asking for the boy's mother number which he nodded while giving the man a phone number before walking with his mom as a smile spreads on his face as he chuckles to himself. Bless this man who calls the number. What he expected to hear was the sweet angelic voice from the curvy beauty at the grocery store but was shocked to hear a tired grunted voice, “Hello?”
“Uh, hey I don't know if you remember me, but I was the cashier who checked you out. It’s Hitori if you forgot, I saw you with your kid (Cute kid btw) and I was wondering…If you'd like to go out with me?” The man tried to sound confident however the longer he was speaking and silence on the other end it made him nervous and babble his whole speech. Until hearing a man chuckle from the other line. “Hate to break it to you pal, but she’s taken, happily married.” The man was shocked from hearing the man from the other side.
“I-I don't believe you! She wasn't wearing a ring. Do you honestly leave your wife going out without her ring on? Such a noob move, man.”
“That doesn't worry me cuz guess who's dick be buried deep in her nice and tight pussy. Hm~ Me.”
“-Tsk I-I don't believe you!”
“Zuzu, who are you talking to?” The angelic voice the cashier heard was in the background.
“No one, baby.” The man said to the curvy beauty before saying, “I’ll let you go. Don't call me or talk to my wife while she goes grocery shopping ever again. I won't hesitate to find you. Bye!” He cheerful says with a hint of fakeness at the end before hanging up. Can’t be having his curvy wife know what he’s been doing to sabotage her love life.
“Don't call me that! Anyway…who were you talking to?” She asks, trying to cover her nightgown with her robe since her ex-husband seems to enjoy coming inside her home and sleeping on the couch after his very late night shifts.
“No one...Why? Jealous? Don't worry, Baby I only have eyes on you.” He smile, chuckling when she whacked him with a pillow and left upstairs.
---------
“How was your day, bud?” Izuku questions the seven-year-old while placing the baby bag on the ground before sitting on the couch with his two-year-old daughter Hana in his arm.
“It was fun! Aunt Mimi (Mina) came with Kenta and we were playing.”
“Oh? That’s nice. How is mommy?”
“Bleh, she was talking to Mimi, about a date she's going to.”
That perks Deku’s interest.
A date?
With who?
Why didn't he get the memo?
And so it dawns on him, ‘So that's why she was looking so ravishing tonight.’
Wearing a long coat so he couldn't see what she was wearing (‘cause he would have known if so), which was most likely a dress that showed all her full-figured.
And Mina knew about this? No worries though ‘cause he doesn't plan on having his Mama pup too loose from the chain thinking she could be fucking any other guy but him.
“Alright, let's get yours and Hana pajamas on to watch this movie you want to watch.” Izuku smiles, taking the hyperactive kids to change, with a mental reminder that he needs to make a call.
“Hello?”
“Uh, hey Ashido. Listen, I need a favor.”
--------
He was in disgust with the way she was staring at the man seated across from her, tucking a piece of hair while batting those dow-eyes of her, so she could look cute.
And the outfit? Completely different from what she wore when bringing the kids instead of the long trench coat she was wearing before, she now wore a form-fitting dress that shows exactly what he knew would show, her fucking body that he desperately miss and wants to hold in every way.
He couldn't take it.
“Z-Zuku? What are you doing here?” She was shocked to see him, towering over them with his baggy grey sweat pants and white shirt that was definitely not appropriate for the fancy place she was at. Which made certain people stare at reason. Those pretty emerald green eyes of his that were once tired and depressed have now darken by anger, while looming over her date.
“While I’m taking care of our kids you're playing with this...” Midoriya held his tongue as his jaw clenched.
“Wait, kids?”
She couldn't believe he was putting her on blast as though what she was doing was wrong. It wasn't like she was hiding that she was a mother, it just wasn't brought up since it's barely been a solid forty-five minutes since they got there. Their food hasn't even come out yet.
“Izuku…” She quietly said, trying to calm her ex-husband down.
“I see you got rid of the long coat, what happen? Got too hot?”
Izuku was pissed, far beyond it that he had his arms crossed and shift his gaze at the stargaze man who was staring right back at him, too shock and what seems to be fanboying over him, while she was scared for the poor man's life.
“You must love married women if you're here with my wife.”
“-Enough Izuku!”
Suddenly noticing around them, she sees the whole restaurant staring at the commotion.
“What's going on?”
“Is she cheating on him?”
“Woah! Pro-hero Deku!”
“Embarrassing…”
Quickly she stands, “I’ll be right back!”
She smiles towards her date before turning and grabbing Izuku’s wrist with an angry expression while pulling him away before he could pounce on the poor man.
They headed near the restroom area to have some privacy.
Leaning against the wall, he bitterly said, “You moved on quite easily.” Nodding his head towards where they came from.
“I can't believe you, Izuku! That was the most humiliating thing that happened to me.” She angrily said with a flushed demeanor.
“You know none of this would be a problem if we try again and you let me move back into our house.”
“Don't make that an issue when it isn't.” There were people hastily trying to get away from the bickering ex-couple, arguing back and forth with each other for a good few minutes.
"Did you screw him?" Her eyes widened, surprised by his unexpected outbursts. "I ask you a question… Did that guy fuck that fat pussy?" He took a step forward, as she took a step back, caught off guard by his calm and collected manner.
He'd never spoken with such firmness and authority before.
Damn was that hot.
Her body was suddenly pressed against a wall she had no clue was behind her, taking advantage of the situation, Izuku traps her hands over her head with one of his own while the other caress her chin. "Ah, Zuku..." she whined.
"Answer the question." He murmurs raspily, fanning his breath over her ear then nipping at her earlobe.
"No," She finally answers, murmuring meekly while shaking her head, with those innocent, naive, dreamlike eyes of hers.
"I told you I-I’m not ready for that…" There's nothing to lie about, despite the fact that she's more than ready for it, just not with someone else.
"Such a good girl." He praises. Tracing her luscious lips with his thumb he smirks while pressing his thumb between her lips, obediently sucking on the thumb ever so longingly as a chill runs through her back. "It seems you’ve forgotten how good I make you feel." When she stared into his eyes, she saw how dark they had gotten, wild and fierce.
She broke away from her trance, urgently trying to pull away from his well built chest, knowing that if she persisted, her body would give in to the heap of desires sparking through them.
The mere thought of them making love made her heart race and her cunt tingle. How sex with her ex-husband was the best she experienced. The sensual kisses and the caresses he’d give her body just the unconditional attention and love that she deserve.
He turned his gaze next to her before staring back at her and pulls away, taking her by the arm and dragging her inside the ladies' room, to the handicap toilet, slamming the door behind them (but not close...).
"You're such an annoying woman. Pushing all my buttons and claiming you don't need me for anything, yet every time I fight back, you seem to enjoy it. Craving for my dick. You're such a spoiled brat who loves being mistreated." Izuku tears her dress collar, stretching the gorgeous dress that he actually bought her for an anniversary; just seeing her wear it for another guy just infuriated him.
"No…" She moans as his warm tongue wraps around her erect nipple while having her other nipple being pinched and played with by that enormous hand of his as she lazily tries to push away from him. Subconsciously she knew what he said was true, how she loves when he chases after her. It was one of her toxic traits.
She threw her arm around his neck as he hunched over, fingers running through his hair as Izuku fondled her breast while nursing on the other.
“Ah yes.” She missed this feeling, miss the way his eyes would slowly become a lustful daze.
“See you want this more than me. Admit it, Mama. It’s ok, Daddy misses this too~” He mutters between sucking her tits, waiting for her reply but was only met with her shyly shaking her head, making Izuku pull away with a sigh.
“Kya!” She quickly covers her mouth, as she feels his face go beneath her dress. Izuku sniffed her arousal as he flicked his tongue in her gaping hole, just the tip only.
Hands ravishing her body, arms wrapped around her waist and over her ass to cup them, forced her close to him, to finally stuff his tongue down in her greedy hole with his nose pressed against her clit.
“Izuku!” She whimpers out. “W-We can’t!” She stutters out, clinging to his shoulder while trying to push him away, despite knowing his strength.
God, just the smell of his manly scent made her go mad.
“I’m on a date!”
“You were on a date, now you're with me.” His raspy voice says smiling at her lovingly before leaning close to his meal. Spreading her lower lips to see her arousal trickling down to the ground. “You're so wet, here let me help.” He breathes out, in a daze with his tongue hanging out. He buried his tongue much deeper inside her, darting in and out of her wet and warm walls, his nose just constantly nudging against her clit as he ate her out, hands keeping a firm grip on her thighs to keep her from closing them or to leave from her seat that was his face. Slowly leading the two of them to be lost in each other's feeling within seconds, his feral grunts and her sweet whimpers as she moaned his name.
"You're not fair, cheating me into doing this when I should be moving on." The luxurious sensation of his pecs, collar, and shoulders under her, like if she were on a throne made her flush. As she tries to free herself by grinding her hips to the best of her abilities, she gives up when struck with pleasure from his tongue, the soft and wet muscle that sucks on her clit to keep her in submission.
"I'm the only one who can make you cum." He emphasized flicking the bud before spitting on it and gulping it down.
"You’re the one who wanted to get a divorce. I didn't." Her loud yelps gradually turned to gentle moans, as she felt severe slaps against her bare ass. To the touch, Izuku could feel the heat her ass had endure.
"Well... You didn't complain or fight to keep m-me, to keep us." She cried out, just trying not to fall off his face at this point.
"Believe me, I regret it." He grunts out, the vibration from his growls sending waves of pleasure through her lower part and wobbly knees. She tried standing up as straight as she could with Zuku’s long tongue following along, thrusting in and out of her as she tried to shove him away again but this time by his shoulder, but he wouldn't budge.
If anything he firmly tighten his grip on her thighs and stood up, tongue still buried deep within her, diving much further while leaning them against the wall behind them. In a panic she desperately tried to hold onto something so she wouldn't fall and break her neck, but the only support being was her ex-husband's muscular shoulders and his green locks.
She silently cries while leaning her head back as she arches her back from his harsh sucking.
"Zuku, too much.” She sluggishly said this while running her fingers through his hair, causing him to moan.
“Eep!”
Suddenly her head shot up when she heard a surprised gasp towards the open door of the bathroom. Seeing not one, two, or three, but a swarm of women standing there staring at her in disbelief, some stared through the mirror reflection with stunned faces, wondering what they are witnessing, and others who actually seems to be enjoying they saw. I mean, it's not every day you see the #1 pro hero eating someone out.
"Nho... P-Please look away!" She squeals and sobs out, instinctively wrapping her thighs around his head and nestling in closer to Izuku's body, pulling on his hair to conceal herself. While using her other hand to shoo the group of ladies to leave the embarrassing scene.
Honestly Izuku didn't seem to mind, glancing at the group of ladies who continued to stare at them before smirking and winking at them before turning back.
“Hiya!” He flattens his tongue, licking a strap from the fluttering hole to the throbbing hood of nerves, shooting waves of pleasure through her trembling form. He misses his baby pussy, addicted to laving the bead with his slick muscle to then suck the poor thing as she fought to push away from his greedy mouth that just kept latching on as he held her in place.
Not once does Izuku need to use his fingers (Besides helping spread her sopping lips), just never made a difference in his opinion. Just the feeling of nips, flicks, and kisses bestowed by his lips and tongue with nudges from his nose had her cumming so hard almost as hard as his beefy fat cock stuffed inside her.
Almost.
“Ah, Yes!” She cried out, the knot that slowly formed inside her snapped making her shudder and her back arch in the most awkward way with how confine it was as she felt more then cum come out, feeling the warm liquid go down on Izuku’s face. Though that seemed to trigger the pro-hero, hearing sweet pants and whines ripple through his throat. He was more then ready to go again, now wanting to witnessed many more times her pussy contract but on something else.
Just the thought of his woman marking her territory on her man’s face was getting this man so undoubtedly aroused that he was desperately relying on the limited space within his pants to get off, erratically bucking his hips against the wall he was holding her against as he pulled away from her twitching mess of a clit and the gaping hole desperately trying to feel the man in front of her.
Once finished he takes a step back, denying his throbbing cock, Izuku gracefully puts her down while help lower the hem of her dress as she supports herself against him. Glancing up to her ex-husband's face seeing he didn't bother wiping his chin from her fluids.
“C-Clean your face.” She stutters out as she frantically goes to leave his side until feeling Izuku takes a hold of her hands, moving his face close to her.
“Ok. Lick it.”
“Excuse me!” She whisper-shouted flabbergasted by his demand. “You're insane.” She tried to free her hands despite Izuku's firm grip on her.
“You're not leaving here until you lick your filth off my face. What's the matter? Embarrassed by the crowd? Too bad no one told you to be such a messy slut dating such a loser.” Her body began to heat up, loving this side of Izuku, not once has he raised his voice at her or speak to her in such filthy way, it seems Izuku finally has enough of her antics and took it upon himself to be the one in charge for once.
“Uh…I’ll do it if she doesn't want to.” Some woman shyly said.
“Y-Yeah me too.” Another added.
Soon the bathroom was filled with lustful cries and begs that wanted to be the one who licked or even just be acknowledged by the pro-hero. Causing jealousy to slowly seep through her, “Hey! Go find your own man!”
Going on her tippy toes, she licks Izuku’s face sloppily, tasting her fluid from his chin to his parted lips were she traces them before wrapping her tongue around his own having a full-on makeout session. Wrapping her arms around his neck as he signals her to jump in his arms to deepen it, making some ladies whine and whimper to have the same attention.
“Hmph! T-That’s enough. I did what you said so leave me alone.” She finally breaks free, pulling away when she felt Izuku rubbing his hard-on over her cloth folds. She wipes her lip, breaking the trail of saliva that connected their tongues while turning away from her ex-husband's lustful gaze, however, he kept hold of her wrist bringing her curvy form back next to him with just a tug.
“I don't think so Mama pup.”
“What are you…H-hey!” He dragged her out of the lady's room, walking past the dining area and out the front doors.
“Izuku, I can't just leave. My date is still waiting for me…” She shyly said nudging his hand while coming to a halt, glancing back to the dining hall where they came from.
“You’re seriously trying to go back to that man after being tongue fuck by your husband? You must be a more desperate whore than I thought.” He chuckles darkly.
“That’s not true.”
“-Tsk come with me or your date could be the one I take my pent-up frustration on. Which is it?” He narrowed his eyes, keeping a stronghold on her hand.
She wasn't trying to go back to that man, God please forgive her but she wants her baby daddy more than some random guy who was scared to even speak back to Izuku.
All she wants is her man's attention even if it wasn't intentional.
She was just too needy to say no to him, just giving a simple nod as he continued to drag her into her car passenger seat as he went to the driver's side. Having something much sinister in mind then rush home. I mean he is still punishing you, he just needs a place no one would interrupt.
-------------
“Deku you actually went and got her.”
“Mina I’m so sorry for the trouble.” She shyly said, bowing to show her apology.
“Nonsense, girl. Besides your ex-husband here was scary, blaming me for setting you up on a date.” She whines, hugging her friend. They spoke for a bit until Mina finally planned to leave. “So…plan on leaving or having a little sleepover here?”
“I just stay for tonight, you know miss my babies.” Mina took note of how close Deku was to her friend, glancing and lightly brushing up on her. Oblivious to their lustful stares and why they took more than 2 hours when it was only 30 minutes to and from the place. “No, I understand I should let y'all go then!”
“S-See ya.” She smiled, weakly waving at Mina by the front door, body trembling when she felt her ex-husband's scarred hand travel down the middle of her back and down to the hem of her dress which he flip up to stuff two thick fingers inside her cum filled pussy.
“You think she knows you were fucked?” He whispers in her ear, as though he doesn't have two of his thick finger knuckles deep inside her already stuffed pussy.
“Now hurry up Puppy, Daddy wants to breed you again.” He whispers before quickly nibbling the helix of her ear as Izuku thrust his fingers much deeper in her, as she mindlessly closes the door while leaning against it. Slowly becoming a whiny bitch. “Shoo…Shut up before you won't get your hubby's dick! I’ll just let you use my fingers which you know I only use for punishment.” He hissed.
“Yes, Sir. I’m sorry.” She whimpers out. Well that was new. Not once ever saying “sir” to her ex during their intimate moments.
“Hm~ If only I had a tail buttplug and a leash I’d have you walking in all four around the house to punish you some more.” Her eyes shamefully rolled to the back of her head as she pressed her upper body against the closed door while arching her ass out wanting the aggressive pounding from those sausage fingers deeper in her cunt. “Like that? Wouldn't mind than me buying you a collar with the word ‘Owned’ on it so every guy knows you’ve been marked. -Tsk, thought having a second would make it clear but that's fine~”
You're just so in love with this man that no matter how many years have passed, she continues to go back to Daddy Zuku to be praised, acknowledged, and fucked in better ways by your loving husband- I mean ex!
Sadly Tumblr wants to be mean, but that's fine, hopefully, this won't be flagged. if curious to see the whole photo here is the link. 😊
Warning: Unprotected sex, dirty talk, mention the use of Toys, Pet names (Precious girl and Pretty girl), Mean!Ennoshita (You really be testin' his patience), Public display, Being caught..?, mention of Fem Masturbation, mention of body hair (of female). Basically, NSFW 🤷🏻♀
Also be mindful that I didn't really mention much of the reader's appearance (Besides she's female) since I wanted to keep it vague for everyone to relate as much as possible, though it is definitely for the more voluptuous side of ladies.
Please be mindful that all photos are not mines, but the making of the collage is.
MINORS DNI!!! 🔞🙅🏻♀️If you're not comfortable with this, please ignore!
Ennoshita with a Perv. Chubby Reader! who in everyone’s eyes, seems like a shy, quiet girl that no one seems to notice in their classroom, just the average bookworm with a boring look. However, as time progresses, she's seen as the girl who enjoys watching her boyfriend practice, but in reality, Ennoshita knows that’s not the case. Before they were together, he actually believed she was an innocent, shy type who was afraid of speaking to others, which was fine for him since he could have her all to himself. This was the case when first dating, but as their relationship seemed to grow, Ennoshita seemed to know her little antics.
The first time they did it, sure, she’d be nervous since it was her first time and she was feeling embarrassed cuz of her weight, but he reassured her, making it sensual and intense for their first time giving into each other. Yet the more ‘making love’ they did, the more he seemed to notice how adventurous she’d become.
It started with asking Ennoshita to try different sex positions that she read in a magazine on: mating press, reverse cowgirl, body surfing, and more that he can’t seem to remember. Then there were moments she would tease him if she had to do stuff after school she would come up behind him wrapping her arms around his waist pressing her soft form that he knew all too well against his back flustering him as he felt her soft plump stomach and breast. Or when Ennoshita was busy with practice would receive text messages from his shy girl sending lewd and filthy photos on his screen. Photos of her wearing lingerie that were posed in sexy angles with text messages to provoke him.
How do I look?
I wanted to surprise you but you seem so busy all the time that I never get you for myself…
If only you weren’t practicing right now. But it’s fine I’ll just use my toy that you bought me. 😊
And would send him a video with her fucking the small dildo that Ennoshita had bought her (which was much smaller than his. Ennoshita doesn’t like to compete with plastic) while using a mirror to show the whole scene. Having him frantically mute, pause, and close the phone when hearing her sweet moans crying out to him in the echoing gymnasium. With practice long gone from his mind, he quickly made up an excuse to leave practice early while grabbing his things, ignoring his teammate's question and statements, or caring to change to his uniform before dashing to her place.
Shyly, she'd ask Ennoshita if he wants to fuck her in different locations, and he applauds her, taking her to more commonplaces such as the living room and the restroom. But it didn't seem to be what she meant.
After practice one day, they head to the metro station and enter the relatively packed train, where she takes Ennoshita's hand and leads him to a corner, where she sits him down before spreading his strong legs to settle right on top of him. He slid his hands down to wrap around her waist as she slowly began to rock her hips against his cloth cock.
That was already hard until hearing Noya and Tanaka loud voices coming their way. It should have ruined the mood for them both; at least it did for him, though it was different for her. While he was awkwardly talking to the two who were towering over them, he seemed to notice that his precious girl still moving her hips, making him pinch her chubby side to keep her in check. But that seemed to fuel her. She enjoyed his giant hands touching her side; the warmth they provided, as well as how heavy-handed he was, made the pit of her belly go up in flames. With a flushed expression, she quietly took hold of the hand as she let out a sweet moan that the two jokesters seemed to notice and asked if she was alright, which Ennoshita quickly brushed off while noticeably knowing she had just come by the wet patch seeping through his pants and to his hard-on, plus by her lewd expression that he knew all too well.
Shit.
Yet here he is now, Ennoshita doing wall sits from what couch had told him would help increase his strength and endurance outside the gymnasium that was too stuffy and hot to do them in. Until noticing his pretty girl walking towards the gymnasium for what he assumed was to watch him practice which isn’t too new. Since being together, he somewhat forced her to come watch him so later on, he could take her home.
Whereas this time it seem like she wanted to show her brattier side, her doe eyes that make her seem innocent were now glaring at him with tears in the corner.
“Am I not good enough for you?”
“Of course you are, baby.”
“Then why won’t you fuck me!"
"I do-"
"-in public!”
The reason? Another one of her ‘curiosity’ (the same lol) she wants to try, though in Ennoshita’s defense he just doesn’t want what happened in the metro to go down again. He loves his girl, really he does and wouldn’t mind doing the deed in public but he refuses for some guy to see his girlfriend in her most vulnerable state.
Only he could.
“Cuz it’s a no. Are you questioning my authority?”
“It’s cuz you had enough of me? It’s because of my weight, isn’t it? And don’t like me anymore?” She sniffed, ignoring what he just said.
Turning away from him just for a moment before turning back with anger in her eyes. She finally seemed to snap, making rude remarks to him as she towered over his sitting position before saying a one-line killer. “It’s fine I’ll just find someone else who’ll want to fuck me.”
Oh, that did it.
without hesitation, he took a hold of her wrist pinning her down on his thick thighs while taking a hold of her jaw -well cheeks. “Oh really? Some guy when it took you how long till you finally show me this sluty side?”
She bit her tongue.
“Haha right like that would work. And even if that were to happen, I won’t let you go, pretty girl.”
Fine if she wanted to be a brat and have these little temper tantrums he could deal with that. Going in between them he rips off her panties and throws them at the conveniently closed bushes before sliding down his shorts and boxers to free his member.
“E-Ennoshita~” She cries out when feeling him slide into her already soaked cunt while keeping a stronghold on her trembling form.
“Look what you made me do!” He would hiss against her ear while moving their hips in rhythm.
“You wanted this, remember? So why cry now?” He continues thirsting, taking a hold of her soft doughy thighs to spread them more apart. All while she was in a daze, drool slipped from her lips and down her chin while wrapping an arm behind them to grasp the back of his head as she only gave a weak moan in response to what he said.
“Haha, you think another man could take you like this? Hmm, he wouldn’t know how to satisfy you, that's why you need your poor boyfriend, k. You know what? I don’t think you even deserve to cum…” that seemed to have woke her.
“Nnhhh~ what! no, I do deserve it! I promise I promise, to be good. Please, I'll be good!”
He knew as much as she got him craving her that he had also gotten her obsessed over him.
“I know you would.” Before continually stuffing her, making her flushed and crying to cum.
“Good evening sir.” He almost wanted to laugh at how her eyes that were close from ecstasy were now shot wide open from hearing Ennoshita talk to someone and that person being the principal.
She wanted to pull away and tried so until noticing she couldn’t even touch the ground with how Ennoshita had angled them as well as keeping a firm grip nice and tight on her thighs.
“Sorry if we’re disturbing your walk -oh what are we doing? Just some wall sits, well, I am she’s just helping give me some more weight to help with my strength that’s why we’re moving so much as you notice.”
What a liar. Lying through his teeth why he can’t help but continue fucking his girlfriend’s sweet cunt that if you hear very well could hear the slopping sounds. “Enjoy your walk.” Ennoshita fake a smile until the principal was out of sight.
“That was mean of you to tell him I was your extra weight, is that what you think of me?” With a pouted lip, she whispered. However, Ennoshita was unconcerned. With a blank expression on his face, he put a strong muscular arm around her waist, to penetrate deeper. Taking her by surprise.
“Ah~ Ennoshita I-I can’t, s’too much I-I wanna...”
"What is it? Cum right where anyone could see you. What a pervert. You love being treated like a useless toy. Wanting me to play with you in such a public area. We even almost got caught. You must really like being caught while being thrown all around so roughly, -tsk. You probably want me to share you around. Let my teammate play with you also."
“No!” She cried out, turning her head to see her mean boyfriend's face. Gosh did he look hot.
“Hm… I guess I'll let you cum but only cuz you kept those pretty sluty moans of yours down when the principle came.” He hissed while slumping between her shoulder and neck.
Ennoshita let go of her waist and pressed two of his thick fingers onto her swollen clit. "But…" Taking a break from his cervix-kissing abuse, he sits there while sluggishly rubbing her clit "the next time you do a stunt like that again, including putting words in my mouth. You will not be given this privilege again. Do you hear me?" He stops massaging and begins slapping the sensitive bud a few times, causing her to cry out as she hurries to bring her thighs together to protect the poor bud from his harsh strikes, only to have them spread much wider to take her punishment: having the hairs on her fupa grabbed on.
Ennoshita wasn't actually asking, more like advising his brat of a whore what she shouldn't do.
"Yes! Yes! I’m sorry, I’m sorry... l-just please let go." She sobs, grasping the wrist that was clutching her pubic hair, anxiously pleading with him to let go.
He lets go, sensing her subservient posture with her flushed, tear-stained face, and closed eyes. He chuckles while slamming right back into her. Now chasing his own high as he continues assaulting her overstimulated clit.
They finally let themselves go. Her greedy cunt milked him for everything he had, with his legs trembling as he gasped from the pure pleasure he was experiencing, Ennoshita was forced to stop stroking her clit and grab both of her thighs to maintain a consistent pace and prevent her from falling out of his lap with the intensity of each thrust.
She squeals, making him cover her filthy moans with the same fingers that were once toying with her, over her mouth, which she gladly sucked. Which he didn't find surprising. When you have a girlfriend that expects you to do a lot of things to her, you quickly become accustomed to it.
"Ah!" She shrieked clinging to Ennoshita's arms as she felt both of them slide down the wall and onto the ground, where Ennoshita and she exchanged glances before chuckling.
"Thank you, Chikara, for giving me what I wanted. You’re the best boyfriend ever!" She kissed his lips before standing up and freshening herself, turning back and blowing him a kiss as she skipped happily away. Ennoshita sits there, with his limp member still out, as he ponders and mentally slaps himself after looking away from his aftermath leaking out of her when she was out of sight.
Damn did she really manipulate him into doing her bidding?
——
“Your girlfriend is so nice.”
“I wish I find someone as cute as her.” Said some of his teammates.
Who are munching down on the homemade cookies his pretty girl had brought with that sweet smile on her face. Not even the next day, he comes in the gym to find his girlfriend already there handing out cookies, appearing like a sweet angel, though he knows her stunts and her meek demeanor was part of an act to get whatever she wants from him. And it’s not even to buy her cute stuff; it’s so she can own him and his cock. And that seems to be what she wants right now.
Speaking to the guy she’s most comfortable with, she notices his gaze on her, making her excuse herself before heading to him.
"Don't worry, Chi-senpai. I made you some as well, but because I was carrying so much, I left them in my locker. Could you take a quick break and come with me? " She held his hand in hers before walking away, leaving something in his grasp.
Opening the folded up paper he read: hurry up before your cookies get cold, you know where to find me~ Before he was able to meet her gaze, he watch as she secretly lifted her skirt, revealing her bare ass with something sparkly in between, before fleeing the gymnasium as their eyes crossed. He inhales sharply when noticing with a taunting smile on her face that she was showing a gemmed butt plug stuff in her.
‘Oh fuck~’
Without delay, Ennoshita eagerly chased after her. Slowly becoming subservient to his perverted girlfriend’s every request.
prguitarman
andulkaphoto
theartofmadeline
2087
germansingergirl
blakekathryn
gummygunk