back to when we first met
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Game of Thrones Daily

#extradirty
Three Goblin Art
Sweet Seals For You, Always

izzy's playlists!

Kaledo Art

Andulka
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

shark vs the universe

titsay
noise dept.
we're not kids anymore.
Show & Tell
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
h
Monterey Bay Aquarium
d e v o n
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$LAYYYTER

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@rarepandalily
back to when we first met
Where Memory Bleeds || Kento Nanami
Kento Nanami x F!Reader
❝You finally had the small, quiet life you always wanted—married to Kento Nanami, home with your little boy Yuuji, safe in your routines—until a brutal attack in a grocery store parking lot tore it all away. You wake from a month-long coma with six missing years, no memory of your husband or child, forced to step back into a life that knows you intimately while you feel like a stranger inside your own skin.❞
cw; assault, trauma, anxiety, mental health, smut
masterlist - comment for taglist
chapter one. A House Built of Quiet Things chapter two. A Life You Don’t Remember chapter three. The Shape of Before chapter four. Small Life, Full Heart chapter five. Coffee with a Stranger Who Knows You chapter six. The Garden Gate chapter seven. Pictures of a Life I Forgot chapter eight. A House with Room for Sunlight chapter nine. The Weight of Their Voices chapter ten. The Second First Time
᭡୧ Fix your route? Nah, Fuck you right. — N. Kento.
᭡୧ synopsis: in which nanami is a longtime divorced man but got a very active sex life. and in which a new, bimbo… and a very much younger neighbor moves in next to his apartment. worst part is, he’s not able to control himself around you. especially when you’re at his door, asking him to fix your wifi late at this hour.
᭡୧ pairing: older!nanami kento x kinda bimbo fem!reader
᭡୧ c. warnings: age gap, heavy sexuál tension, eyefu cking, solo m. mast urbation, nanami is in his 40s and reader is early 20s, belly/tummy bulge, fing ering, did i say heavy se xual tension?, pus sy eating, overstim ulation, squi rting, weak plot/heavy po rn — if there’s more to tag lmk. w.c: 7.8k+
nanami kento has always kept his life neat and quiet, the kind of man who folds his shirts the same way every morning and times his coffee exactly seven minutes after the water boils. forty years old, divorced once a long time ago, and now he lives alone in the corner apartment on the fourth floor where the hallway light flickers just enough to remind him he should probably call maintenance but never does.
his sex life is the same as everything else he controls, sparse and deliberate. a few times a year he lets himself download one of those bland apps, meets a woman his age in a hotel bar, fucks her slow and polite in the dark so neither of them has to look too closely at the other.
most nights though it is just his own hand in the shower, quick and efficient, eyes closed while he thinks about nothing at all. he likes it that way. clean. no mess. no complications. until you moved in next door three months ago and ruined every single one of those careful rules without even trying.
you showed up on a rainy tuesday with too many cardboard boxes and a laugh that carried through the thin walls like it belonged there.
early twenties, fresh out of whatever college or job that spat you into this building, always in oversized shirts and tiny sleep shorts that rode up the back of your thighs when you bent over to pick up your mail. nanami noticed you the first time he passed you in the hallway, the way you smiled at him like he was just another neighbor instead of a man who suddenly felt every one of those twenty years between you. he told himself it was nothing. just new noise in a building that had been quiet for years. but then the noise became something else.
the soft thump of your music when you cooked dinner, the way your balcony light stayed on late while you scrolled on your phone, the faint vanilla scent that drifted under his door every time you took out the trash. he started catching himself pausing at the peephole when he heard your keys, hating the way his cock twitched at the mere sound of your footsteps. hating it more when he realized he was hard again in the shower that same night, fist wrapped tight around himself while he pictured those sleep shorts pooled around your ankles.
he tried to ignore it at first. threw himself into longer office hours, came home later, kept the volume on his television higher so he would not hear you humming in the shower through the shared wall. it did not work.
#lilireblogs
Cursed Womb Painting? More like he can curse my womb with a painting.
Dopamine
You're married to Satoru Gojo - an arrangement since your childhood, one you're so excited for. You soon find out - he wants nothing to do with you. Any one is preferable, from the waitress at your engagement party, to his secretary. Torn apart by insecurities and devastated by the fact that you can't make this one sided affection work, you decide to find something to keep you going until Gojo finds a way to end the marriage. That's what lands you right in the notorious boxing ring in town - led by Ryomen Sukuna, who finally sees you.
pairings - Nepo baby! Gojo x Reader x Boxer! Sukuna
warnings!!! - dear god lol - first time blow jobs, threesome (m/f/m) eifel tower, possessive Sukuna, desperate and pathetic Satoru, swallowing, oral (f and m receiving) p in v sex, degradation, praise, (they love to make reader cry and ruin her pussy tbh) cumplay, rough sex, choking, angst, basically the messiest chap EVER and this one leans towards Satoru (Sukuna's was last chap lol) - 12.1k (god lol)
As always this will have 3 endings - i'll repeat again if anyone reads authors notes - three endings! One Poly, One Gojo, One Sukuna. Poly end will be first.
<<<part five - masterlist - playlist - part seven
part six
𝕾𝖚𝖐𝖚𝖓𝖆
“Then open that pretty mouth.”
You obediently do just that – open your mouth for him, as his mind rushes and whirls with thoughts – you clearly have feelings for that fuck, and he won’t fault you for it, he wants all of you. Even the part that cares for a dumb, gaslighting little white haired fuck who just looked at you like he couldn’t imagine anything better than drinking Sukuna’s cum from your pussy.
His hands entangle in the hair at the nape of your neck, you damn near have cute little hearts in your eyes when he takes his tip, smearing a bead of precum right along your lips like a gloss. He exhales and then lets the heavy weight of his reddened tip glide on your tongue, the taste making you swallow and moan around him.
“Take as much as you can, pretty lil brat,” he whispers, moaning when you start bobbing up and down his veiny length, you’re so damn pretty like this, obedient like always, your nails pressing into his thighs. “Sucking me first, hmm? Me?”
“Mmm,” your answer is a soft moan that makes your throat flutter around him, tears pricking your pretty eyes and glimmering off your cheeks, sniffling as he keeps fucking into your throat deeper. “Mhmm…”
“That’s it, fuckin’ so proud of you,” he can tell you’re dying over the praise – you deserve that and more. “Always listenin’ s’fuckin’ well. Hah – there you go, just like that… fuck…”
You try to take more of him, your enthusiasm outpacing your skill, and you gag around him, throat constricting, your eyes watering instantly. A thick, messy string of drool slips from the corner of your mouth, dripping down onto his veiny shaft, even onto your little hand where it rests on his thigh.
You pull back and start coughing, your face flushed so cute, he can see you’re embarrassed, chuckling softly at you. “I’m sorry… I um…”
“You were taking too much too fast,” you blush so hot he feels it burning when he touches your cheek, you kiss his tip, a thick string of saliva connecting your swollen, glistening lips to his reddened tip. “You need to breathe through your nose and ease into it, my cock isn’t fucking going anywhere.”
“It’s not?” You tease, lips twitching at the corners, Sukuna loves the fact that you’re in here with him, he knows Satoru was trying and that you let him taste you, but you’re here.
On your knees.
Obediently waiting for his directions, for him to show you everything – no matter what fuck ass direction things go with Satoru and you – whatever weird throuple shit he may have to endure? He eats up the fact that you’re his, that he took you first, your mouth, your pretty cunt, fuck he was your first real kiss and not for show.
Possessive and sick, fucking depraved is how you make him – so depraved he’ll do anything to make sure you stay his. You belong to Sukuna as much as he does to you.
“Try to take more,” he leans forward now, adjusting his cock so it glides up in your throat easier, sucking in a breath as the wet, slutty sounds fill your room. “That’s it, mouth wrappin’ me, throat that tight? Fuck – m’gonna stretch it out, have him hear how badly I ruin it. So loud and slutty.”
You’re whining out at his toxic words, you – as pretty, sweet, and innocent as you are – are toxic too. He senses it in how you respond, in how you whine out when Sukuna holds you there, buried to the hilt, your nose pressed against the coarse pink hair at his base. He groans and keeps you there, brushing your hair back as you drool, throat quivering.
“You can take me brat,” he whispers softly, pulling back and letting that precum dance on your uvula as he moves. “Want me to use your throat, huh? Just like this?”
Having sex with Caleb
Warning: !Highly recommend listening with headphones! He’s a breathing mess
Yuuji and Megumi : OG Itafushi
Jin and Toji : middle aged Itafushi
Sukuna and Toji : Toxic Itafushi
𐔌՞꜆. ̫.꜀՞𐦯 ִֶָ𓂃 the apple doesn't fall far from the tree with nanami.
note. art credits to @/aransmind — i took a good look at my og novel wip, typed at least 200 words, called it a day and opened tiktok. got this idea when i saw those cute family tiktoks, and i'm mad sleepy rn, woke up at 5 to accompany my grandparents to do taichi. best day ever though.
Kento often showers you with acts of service. Whether it being a kiss on your forehead, helping you carry your son's toys after his nap, smoothing down your hair after a good sleep, even pulling out the chair for you before you sit down.
Your son, Kenji Nanami is now 8 years of age. He grew up in a house full of love — and he spent 8 years watching how his father treats you. Kenji looks exactly like Kento, an exact replica minus your eye color.
"Mommy," Kenji sits down on the couch, watching you.
You held the vaccuum cleaner, ready to plug it in. The second you turn back, Kenji has already held the rug up for you to vaccuum. A smile popped on your face, "Why'd you do that for?"
Kenji grins, "Daddy always does it."
It doesn't stop there. Now, anytime dinner rolled by, Kenji already pulled the chair out for you to sit in before Kento does. Kento was baffled that his son had taken his job — not that he was complaining, in fact, he was a proud father.
"Aw, thank you, baby," you coo at Kenji, kissing his head.
Everytime you were about to take someone heavy, Kenji swooped in, even if you had to do it in the end because he wasn't strong enough to. One time, you were carrying a box of groceries and Kenji asked you to hand it to him — he ended up breaking the milk gallon open because he dropped it.
When Kento has to leave the house before the sun rise for work, Kenji wakes up before you do, running towards your room. He ends up sleeping in your arms and waking up when you do, with sleepy eyes, he murmurs out, "Mommy, hair."
His little hands pats down on your hair to neat it up just like Kento always do. He smiles proudly, "Mommy, pretty."
Every single compliment that escapes Kento's lips will be followed by Kenji, and Kento had learnt that. So, he had stopped the suggestive comments he used to say once in a while — the one time Kenji picked up on his suggestive comment was when Kento had accidentally slipped out the words, "You're so sexy."
However, Kento taught Kenji not to say it. And so, Kenji doesn't. He's a good kid. Kento is definitely a proud father when he saw Kenji helping his classmates, little hands filled with generosity. And people began complimenting on how good of a father Kento is for Kenji to turn out like this.
Kento would always say, "It's all my wife, without her, my son wouldn't turn up this way."
At times, Kenji pulls open doors for you to walk through. One time, he runs to push an automatic door — but was left confused when it had already opened while he was a few steps away, "Mommy, magic!"
Kento had to teach him about automatic doors. As his age adds up, Kenji began opening doors for other adults, holding the elevator door open for strollers and elders, helping a father carry groceries to his car, or helping a toddler who fell on the playground.
All his actions were replicas of what Kento used to do. Now, he just sits back and watches his son do it for everyone — even when Kento wanted to do it, Kenji stops him.
I guess what they said about "the apple doesn't fall far from the tree" is true.
© sashinemis, 2026 メ do not copy, reconstruct, or upload on another platform + do not feed my works into AI.
life goals
1. to have a husband like Nanami Kento
2. to have a mini Nanami Kento shaped by his father's kindness and loving nature 🥹
#lilireblogs
WHITE LIES — FUSHIGURO TOJI
series masterlist
Getting pregnant by the one person you were never meant to be serious about was already complicated. Being forced into a marriage with him only made it worse—especially when the lines you drew started to blur in ways you didn’t anticipate.
general content: female reader, accidental pregnancy, forced marriage, fake/pretend relationship, modern!au, fuck buddies to lovers, domestic fluff, blended family, mutual pining, smut, single dad!toji, toji is a zenin here, kinda rom-com coded, kinda slice of life, cliché if you ask me but who cares.
word count: tbd. | status: on going.
part one
part two
part three
note: okay, i know not a lot of people like the accidental pregnancy troupe or the pregnancy troupe in general, but i lowkey do, so, if you know this is not your cup of tea, please keep yourself from reading this :)
#lilireblogs
Older - N.K.
Synopsis. Your duties as a nanny are simple: pick Itadori Yuji up from elementary school, bathe him, feed him his veggies, and take care of him until his hot blond dad gets home. It doesn’t include something like…spending Valentine’s Day with the overworked, overstressed, absolute DlLF Nanami Kento. Does it? Does it?
Pairing. Nanami Kento x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem!reader, older!Nanami, age gap, DlLF!Nanami, reader is in early 20’s, Nanami is in 30’s, he’s overworked and STRESSED, down bad!Nanami, desperation, Valentine’s Day, pùssydrùnk Nanami, oraI (fem rec.), p talking, p sIapping, punishments, dégrading but also soft Nanami, spítting, bíting, fíngering, yearning, teaching you, fírst times (yours), Iessons, talking you through it, he’s stern, he’s BIG, BRÉEDlNG BRÉEDlNG BRÉEDlNG, matíng presses, manhandIing, cervíx smoochin, overstím, vírginíty loss (yours), corruption, he’s feraI, DÚMBIFlCATION, calling you ‘momma’, mentions of kids, implied marathon, HEADLÓCKS, creampíes, cúmpIay, Yuji cameos, Papamin, HAPPY ENDING, pet names, swéaring.
Word count. 15.7k
A/N. BOO! SURPRISE VALENTINE’S DAY POST?! HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY BABYGIRLS <33
Nanami can’t help but sigh—“One more meeting and I’m quitting.”
Even though he knows he wouldn’t.
Those boxed-in, white-collar jobs felt just as lukewarm to quit as they were to work. One learns to numb oneself to the constant drone and sputter of the office, the ceaseless fury of a microwave that wouldn’t heat, and the wail of a printer printing listlessly furlong - too far behind its service date. So was there even a point?
That stupid screech followed him even out of the office: one could ignore the cracks and jolts of joints, but that doesn’t actually stop the noise.
He feels a headache coming on.
But Nanami can’t lie- the pay wasn’t all too bad. Besides, the extra hours helped him pay for the nanny he’d recently hired for Yuji—speaking of, he could hear you shuffling about inside.
His key’s just reaching for the door before it swings wide open.
“Welcome home—!”
And Nanami Kento can’t understand that strange, sweet flutter in his heart.
flirting 101: make a fool out of yourself
synopsis: everyone thinks that satoru’s a cool frat boy and honestly, you don’t blame them. he looks the part and plays the role perfectly. but really, he’s a digimon fan with a bunch of merch and his supposed “bachelor pad” is completely different to what you were expecting. what was supposed to be a project assignment ends up being a digimon marathon.
word count: 3k
a/n: i don't like fratjo unless he's secretly a loser <3 also thank you to my nae for beta-reading hehe mwah (photos found on pinterest and art by @/inkyck; dividers by @/cursed-carmine)
fem!reader x gojo satoru, university!au, sfw
satoru was assumedly your typical fratboy. just like all the others in his fraternity - cocky, obnoxious, loud.
girls swarm him like moths to a lamp. a 6’3 lamp with an annoying charming grin that made hearts trip over themselves, a body so athletic and a voice so smooth it could hypnotise people. and with the way he receives heart-eyed looks and is always the centre of attention, he probably does unintentionally hypnotise them.
you’ve never understood the charm, though. not that you hate him, per se - you have no reason to. simply being neutral towards him. you’ll admit that he has the face of a model and the body of a greek god, but the admiration stops there.
you’ve only had minimal interactions with him. the crowd which he’s part of is vastly different to yours, giving you no reason to have to talk to him other than the one class you share together.
yet he notices you. the quiet girl who gets on with her work and goes about her day unbothered. the girl who blinks unaffected, even when he throws you a toothy grin and playful wink like it’s second nature for him.
he’s always been drawn to you because you don’t fling yourself at him like most girls (and guys) might. his curiosity kills him. he wants to know more about you. to go further than the simple “morning” or “hey, do you have a pen i can borrow?” (he’s never forgotten his pen; he has no need to ask).
#lilireblogs 🤍
Piece of Heaven
Chapter 5
Warnings: 18+, MDNI/NSFW, Yuta makes an appearance, Nanami is protective and feral, some confusion and angst towards the end, jealous Nanami, Shoko is a guard dog, some fluff, very dialogue heavy, no one can talk about their feelings
A/N: Hi everyone!! So sorry for the wait on this chapter! Work has really picked up this week, and I haven't had as much off time as I thought I would so typing has been slow but!! We're here! This chapter is very dialogue heavy so for that I apologize, but I think at this point it's just how I write lol. Enjoy!!
Word Count: 3.8kish
series masterlist // previous chapter
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
8:57 AM
From: Kento Nanami (Baby Daddy)
Good morning,
Please find below the name and address of the restaurant for dinner tonight at 6pm. If it’s alright with you, I’d like to pick you up. Could you please send your address as well? Thank you.
Kento Nanami
Rica’s Kitchen
3 Chome-22-11 Nakameguro, Meguro City, Tokyo 153-0061, Japan
It’s in the middle of the morning rush on a Friday when your phone buzzes in your apron. A short break between customers has you slipping the device from the pocket behind the register. Eyes flying over the screen, you snort at the text message beaming up at you. Does he always write his text messages like business emails?
#lilireblogs
Telomeres || One
And we go beyond the farthest reaches
Where the light bends and wraps beneath us
And I know as you collapse into me
This is the start of something
Pairings: widowed single dad! Toji x divorced! Reader(F)
Summary: His wife died a year ago and Toji Fushiguro has felt like his life has been on autopilot since then. Every day is just the same continuous loop.
Your marriage ended five months ago, four years down the drain. And now you find yourself living with your sister and brother-in-law, trying to pick the pieces of your crumbling life back up.
A chance meeting brings these two broken souls together.
Trigger Warnings for Chapter: mentions of spousal loss, brief reference of domestic violence, mention of miscarriage late term, dealing with grief, self loathing, pretty much this first chapter is nothing but angst to rev up the feel of the story.
WC: 1.9K
--- || Next
He always loved how Kyouka could only fall asleep draped over him. A cuddle bug through and through–his sweet wife.
Mornings like this were Toji’s favorite, especially when he woke before she did.
The sun had just begun slipping through the curtains, casting golden rays across the once-dark bedroom. On his bare chest, Toji felt the soft puff of Kyouka’s breathing as she slept peacefully. Her head rested on his collarbone, one hand splayed across his sternum, her legs tangled with his beneath the blankets.
A quiet laugh escaped him, a smile tugging at his scarred lips. He ran one large hand slowly up and down her back, the other resting over her much smaller hand on his chest. He gave it a gentle squeeze and pressed a tender kiss to the top of her head, her messy black spikes tickling his nose.
Megumi could never blame anyone but her for his wild, unmanageable hair. That was all Kyouka. But once he got older—if he ever questioned where his good looks came from—Toji would take credit in a heartbeat.
“Babe,” Toji murmured, giving her hand another squeeze. Kyouka let out a sleepy groan, and he chuckled. “I’m gonna have to get up soon.”
“No,” she mumbled in a sleep-laced voice, burrowing even closer. “You don’t work today. You’re staying home and being my personal body pillow.”
“I’m always your personal body pillow.”
Kyouka didn’t budge. Toji rolled his eyes playfully and tried to slide his hulking frame out from beneath her—only for her to latch onto him like a baby koala.
“Kyouka, seriously. I have to get up. Shiu will be pissed if I'm late again.”
“Then let him be pissed.” She lifted her head, resting her chin on his chest with a soft pout on her beautiful face. His green eyes met her dark ones. “I want my husband for a little bit longer.”
And how could he deny that face?
Kyouka really did have some kind of magic in her blood to make Toji fold the way he did for her.
“Alright, fine,” he sighed, settling back against the pillows. Kyouka immediately snuggled closer—impossibly closer. “You win, baby.”
She giggled. “I know.”
“Don’t be so cocky. I’m not gonna keep letting you get your way.”
“You’ve been saying that for years, Toji. Eight years married, one wonderful son later, and I’m still managing to get my way.”
Toji tsked. “That’s because you’re spoiled. Like milk.”
“And who left me out on the counter, hm?” she teased, lifting her head to look at him again. When he turned away, her smile sharpened with mischief. “That’s what I thought.”
Toji lifted his head, placing a hand on the side of her face before capturing her lips in a soft, lingering kiss. Kyouka cupped his cheek in return, her fingertips brushing the light stubble along his chin. She pulled back before the kiss could deepen.
“Toji?” she whispered, pressing her forehead to his.
“Yeah, baby?” he murmured, smiling as he rubbed his nose against hers. He wanted to kiss her again. Her lips were so soft. He loved them. He loved her.
Kyouka gave a little hum and kissed him again–one more soft, gentle press of lips–before pulling away, smiling into his eyes.
“It’s time to wake up.”
Toji blinked his eyes open slowly, staring up at the ceiling. Sunlight bled through the curtains, casting gold across the darkened bedroom. Beside him, the alarm clock blared on the nightstand.
He let it go for a moment, long enough to turn his head. The empty side of the bed was a cruel reminder it had all been a dream. And another reminder that his wife—his beautiful, loving, sweet Kyouka–was no longer there.
Because she had died a year ago.
The alarm kept shrieking. Toji exhaled through his nose, annoyed and exhausted. He sat up, blankets sliding down to pool at his waist.
“Okay, okay–fuck,” he muttered, smacking the digital clock hard enough to shut it up. He dragged a hand down his face before yanking the blazers off and swinging his legs over the edge, bare feet hitting the wooden floor. He cracked his neck, rubbed his shoulder. “Let’s get this shit over with.”
He pushed himself to his feet, scratching his stomach as he shuffled toward the adjoining bathroom to shower. Same routine as always. He’d get himself ready, then go wake up Megumi and get him ready for the day—
Unless the little turd was already awake by the time he was done.
******
You had never felt so hollow in your life.
The hot spray of the shower washed over you. The water should have been scalding your skin, burning you even—yet you felt nothing. Only coldness. You lay curled on the tile floor in a fetal position, arms wrapped tightly around your midsection as your tears slid down your face, mixing with the water spiraling toward the drain.
Five months ago, your marriage ended. Four years gone. Four years down the drain, and nothing to show for it. And it was all your fault–at least, that’s what you told yourself. Everything that had happened yourself to do it.
Mostly because you loved the man. He had been your childhood sweetheart, after all. You’d grown up together. Shared your firsts together.
You had every chance after the first time he blackened your eye. Every chance after the bruises. After the way he took you on your wedding night. Every chance after every woman you caught him with.
Chance after chance after chance after fucking chance. And still, you stayed.
You loved him. You didn’t give up on the people you loved—even when loving them hurt you in the end.
Stupidly, you clung to the hope that your love would be enough to change him. If you kept showing him how deeply you cared, if you proved again and again that you wouldn’t give up on him, maybe he would change. Maybe the cruelty would stop, and you could both start fresh. Maybe you could be in love the way he should have been from the beginning—like it was when you started dating as two young middle schoolers.
That he would finally return the love you had for him. And that he would mean it.
Just how horribly wrong you had been.
Your inability to leave the bastard finally came to an ugly head after a heated argument. You couldn’t even remember what started it or what it was about. All you remembered was slapping him across the face–only to receive a vicious backhand in return. He hit you hard enough that you tasted copper.
You staggered back and slammed into the wall, rattling the picture frames. One fell from the impact. Groaning, you slid down the wall until you were sitting on the floor.
You didn’t even have time to breathe before another backhand cracked across your cheek, sending you fully to the ground. Instinctively, your hands flew to your stomach.
You were seven months pregnant with your first child—a little boy you were going to name Caspian.
Your ex-husband loomed over you, and your own pleading voice seemed to echo in your ears even now as the memory sharpened: the first kick landing squarely against your stomach. You were trapped, pressed between the wall and his fury.
You remembered each kick—one after another after another. You remembered how your cries grew louder and louder as you begged him to stop. But he didn’t. He never stopped.
He just kept yelling, cursing, and kicking. His rage was blind and wild, and though most of his blows targeted your stomach, his foot struck wherever it landed. The last thing you remembered before everything went black was the sudden rush of wetness between your thighs.
You woke up hours later in a hospital bed, hooked up to machines. Your ex-husband was nowhere to be seen, though you weren’t sure if that was a relief or another kind of ache. Tamsy, your older sister, sat beside you and held your hand in both of hers. Through the crack in the doorway, you could hear the low, tense murmurs of your brother-in-law speaking with someone.
It was Tamsy who told you about Caspian. Your sweet, sweet boy.
She had been the one to break the horrible, gut-wrenching news that your baby… was gone.
And you knew it was all your fault.
Now here you were again—crying in the shower, probably running up your sister and brother-in-law’s water bill.
Crying over a marriage you should have ended years before the divorce. Crying over a man you spent your whole life loving, a man you wanted desperately to love you back—yet he never gave a shit about you. A man who ruined you. And crying for a son you couldn’t save, all because you refused to leave his father. Because you stupidly believed your love could change him.
And you also found yourself crying for the version of yourself you had let die years ago.
After a while, you finally forced yourself to finish your shower. You were more than sure Sukuna still needed to get ready for work, and you were already enough of an inconvenience living under their roof—no matter how many times Tamsy swore you weren’t. No need to hog all the hot water on top of it.
Fully dressed now, you stood in your room towel-drying your hair when a knock sounded at the door. You still had the towel draped over your head as you turned toward it. The door opened to reveal your seven-year-old niece, Aimee, smiling brightly. She was still in her pink pajamas, which was covered in little cartoon stars and clouds.
With her crimson eyes and her hair, she looked like a tiny replica of Sukuna–though, if you were being honest, and you’d never let your sister hear you badmouth her husband’s looks, your niece was a whole hell of a lot cuter than your brother-in-law was.
“Good morning, my love,” you greeted warmly. You smiled back at her and hoped it reached your eyes. No reason for her to know you’d spent your entire shower crying. Again.
“Good morning, Obasan!” Aimee chirped, her smile growing even bigger, crimson eyes sparkling. “Mama told me to come see if you were ready to eat breakfast with us. She made pancakes–and I helped!”
“You did?” you asked. Aimee nodded her head eagerly, her salmon-pink locks bobbing with the motion. You giggled. “Well, what kind of Obasan would I be if I didn’t try some of the yummy breakfast you helped make?”
Aimee clapped, letting out a delighted giggle. “I’ll tell Mama you’re gonna eat with us, Obasan!”
You watched her spin around on her heels and dart out of your room, leaving the door open as she ran down the hallway. “I'll make sure Daddy doesn’t eat all the pancakes before you get some!” she called back.
You waited until the sound of her feet and her little giggles faded away–and your smile dropped instantly, like it had never been there at all. You exhaled and pulled the towel from your hair, tossing it into the laundry basket at the foot of your bed.
You gave yourself a few moments to gather yourself, willing your expression into something resembling normal. You patted your cheeks lightly and tucked a few damp strands of hair behind your ears.
“Okay,” you murmured as you stepped out of your room, leaving the door open behind you. Your sock-covered feet padded softly against the hardwood as you walked into the hallway. Just another day of trying to pick up the crumbling pieces of your life.
You managed a soft smile as you started down the stairs. You could already hear Aimee’s voice chattering–likely to your sister–and the gruff rumble of Sukuna responding to something.
“Let’s do this, then.”
I’ve had this idea rambling in my head for a bit now and here it is. Also, much as I love Sukuna, I have started to develop an unhealthy obsession with Toji. So, I had to write this fic about him.
Now, I’m not entirely sure how many parts this is going to be, but I’m not trying to make it too drawn out. But I don’t want the story to be rushed either. We’ll see how it goes.
reblogging to read later #lilireblogs
☆. ⋆ .☆ Newlywed husband! Nanami who can't get enough of you now that you're officially his wife! ☆. ⋆ .☆ 18+ MDNI
☽✧⋆✦⋆✧⋆✦⋆✧⋆✦⋆❀❀⋆✦⋆✧⋆✦⋆✧⋆✦⋆✧☾
✦ Newlywed husband! Nanami who had always prided himself on self-restraint and composure, who never ever let himself fall prey to the grubby hold of the feeling known as desire.
He worked as a CEO—owned a distinguished business that he’d worked his ass off for back in university, where he earned all his degrees and developed background knowledge on entrepreneurship.
He’d spent countless nights in his dorm, preparing not just for his exams, but for a future—his now very present reality.
✧ Newlywed husband! Nanami who, despite the insurmountable amount of work and responsibilities, rarely ever showcased his need or pent-up desire. Not even when he was stressed and overworked.
His life had been one that he worked towards, and he couldn’t fold simply because of stress.
He worked in a world in which he considered a corporate purgatory—there was no life, no light, no exciting buzz—and that’s exactly how he liked it. There was nothing that coaxed him home on the nights he decided to work a little later because there wasn’t much for him outside of running his business.
But! It was what he always wanted; a life that thrived off his success—a life where he made a living for himself without having to depend on anyone else.
So, in order to maintain the dream that he was living, he worked late and rarely ever made it home on many occasions because he never had a reason to—until he met you; all bright smiles and glowing eyes that always seemed to catch the light just right.
✦ Newlywed husband! Nanami who had been captured, captivated by your charm. You’d been an intern when he’d first laid eyes on you, stumbling into the boardroom where you’d been able to witness your first ever big meeting.
You hadn’t been tardy, not exactly, you hadn’t been clumsy, simply… different. Nothing like the employees that he had personally handpicked to work for him.
Nanami hadn’t ever been faced with distractions in his entire life, but by the heavens above, he swore that you were some kind of disconcerting deity.
Husband Nanami 🫶🏻 #lilireblogs
nanami doesn't even know he has a breeding kink until he finishes inside of you for the first time. ☆
it's like a flip switches in his brain, and the second that sweet release floods your womb he is plagued with the instinctual need to fill you over and over and over until something takes.
and breeding you doesn't have to mean a baby, but rather the primal possession that comes with having you spend the rest of the day with a part of him inside of you. no other man has the privilege, the right, or the reason to claim you as he has, and it does something nasty to the way he fucks.
he's still the gentleman he's always been: still makes sure you cum at least once on his fingers or tongue before he graces you with the hard-to-manage length of his cock. but rather than in the spirit of purely giving you pleasure, he's trying to ensure you're so wet that he can force himself just a little bit deeper inside of you than last time.
a guilt of his, perhaps, but kento read that if he were to edge himself between moments of intimacy with you, that his loads would be bigger, more forceful—and the idea of giving you even more of himself than he already had been is enough to get him hard. so he starts touching himself whenever the thought clouds his mind, which is more-often-than-not nowadays.
he fucks his fist to the thought of breeding you out, letting you milk him dry until you're so full of his cum that it has nowhere to go other than down your legs and onto the delicate sheets beneath you. stopping before he cums is a pain like none other, but his new adopted thought process claims a load spent anywhere other than balls-deep inside of you is a load wasted. #pemdas
#lilireblogs
the gentleman husband!nanami kento is 𑣲
nanami kento was the epitome of a gentleman.
his undertones always contained respect, especially against his beloved wife. his harsh (as harsh as a gentleman like him could be) words carried the specific warmness you reconned, his stern looks carried a glint of fondness beneath. even when he had been clearly upset with you, he made sure he always carried love and respect within. his soft hands found your waist while he voiced his displeasure, caressing your sides with gentle yet strict words.
he hold the doors for you all the time, whether his hands were occupied or not did not matter, it was out of question. he whispered “dear” in your ear right before asking for a favor, nuzzling to you with his soft body, his puffy hair tickling your cheeks, gentle voice tracing your ears and neck with his dewy lips touching you knowingly.
to have someone loving me as tender as this hc 🩷 nanami kento #lilireblogs
‧ ₊❝ frat!sukuna pays for your nails so you it’s only fair you pay him back…by wrapping those pretty manicured fingers around his dick (contains smut, mdni)
“ryo, look! do you like my nails?” you hold out your hands, wiggling them in front of your boyfriend's face.
he snatches you by the wrist, raising his eyebrows to inspect your fingers, the piercing embedded in his skin moving with it.
"stop moving your fingers, brat. how do you expect me to see it if you keep waving it in my face?" his voice was agitated, yet he held your hands with such tenderness reserved for you.
your nails were a beautiful gradient from the soft pink of his hair to a red that matched his eyes at the tip. each nail had different patterns of black lines decorating it, replicating the inked tattoos on sukuna's body he was oh-so-famous for on campus. they were his thing. and by painting them onto your fingernails, it was essentially staking his claim on you.
"hm. it's nice," he finally says, smoothing the rough pad of his fingers over them.
"just nice? i thought you'd like them more, since...y'know, you were my muse," you teased.
he drops your hand, right hand dipping to the pocket of his jeans to fish his wallet out. rifling through the wads of cash in it, he asks, "how much were they?"
"ryo...you don't have to pay me for the nails. i wanted to get them!" you knew he had an bottomless pit of money which he loved splurging on you, but you still felt a twinge of guilt every time you spent his money.
"what kind of boyfriend would i be if i didn't pay for my girlfriend's nails?" he grins, pulling out a stack of tens, "is two hundred enough?"
your jaw goes slack, "baby, that's too much! i spent like half of that!"
he ignores you, shoving the money into your hands, closing your fist over it, "don't worry, you'll be paying me back in another way."
꒷꒦︶︶꒷ ₊˚꒦︶︶꒷꒦︶︶ ₊˚︶꒷꒦
"f-fuck...that's perfect, keep doing that," sukuna's sitting on the edge of his bed, the edge of his bottom lip caught in his teeth. a hand is firmly planted atop your head as yours work diligently on his cock, wet shlicks echoing throughout the dorm room.
it turns out the colour of your nails don't just match his hair and eyes, but also the pretty pink of his cock and the swollen, reddened tip. precum is leaking profusely, allowing your hand to glide up and down smoothly.
your fingers run delicately over the throbbing vein on the underside while your thumb rubs teasingly at the slit. you hear a sharp intake of breath from the man above you, prompting you to jerk his cock faster.
he lets out another groan as his hips jerk into your hand, "your hand looks so pretty on my dick, the per-perfect accessory, shit–"
"someone's needy today," you remark, tongue darting out to lick at the tip. the hand in your head tightens, ceasing your movement. you look up at him, confused – sukuna was never one to deny a blowjob.
"fuck, wait, not yet. i need to show this to the boys," he grapples for his phone, pointing the camera towards where your fingers were wrapped around his hard length. the flash is blinding, the camera capturing the way your fingertips and his dick are glistening from the slick sheen they're covered in. "heh, toji's gonna be so jealous."
you fought the urge to roll your eyes. he always had the unadulterated need to show off to his friends, especially when it came to their affairs in bed. you never understood it, but always went along with it anyway.
sukuna throws his phone behind him, so you take it as a sign to take him into your mouth, at least whatever you could fit into it. his dick was huge, pairing perfectly with his bulky biceps and thighs that you loved ogling at. some part of you knew that he kept up with his vigorous gym routine mainly because he could tell how much you liked them.
you bob your head along his length, your hands continuing to jerk off the base. he's salty, your tongue collecting every drip of precum. a trail of pink hairs tickle your fingers, wet with sweat and slick. his hips start jerking more erratically, fucking into the warm, welcoming heat of your mouth, forcing you to choke on him.
you're spluttering, your saliva leaving trails all over him. yet his force doesn't falter – he knows you can take a lot more than that.
"that's a good girl, taking my cock like a goddamn slut," his voice is raspy, going straight to your core. you're probably dripping by now, your panties clinging onto your wet folds.
he lets out a strangled noise, an actual whine when he makes eye contact with you through your fluttering eyelashes and the fingernails with him written all over it gripping him to death. you feel his cock twitch in your mouth, so you hollow your cheeks one last time before spurts of warm cum flood your throat.
his head is thrown back in ecstasy as you slowly pull your mouth off his softening dick. a visible bulge appears and disappears in your throat as you swallow it all in one go. sukuna reaches a thumb towards your lips to wipe off the dribble of cum leaking from the edge of your mouth.
he shoves that thumb into your mouth, "clean up your mess." you comply, tongue swirling the appendage before he pulls it out with a wet 'pop'.
"consider your payment complete," he pulls you up your feet and connects your lips in a messy, spit-filled kiss, moaning at the taste of him on your lips.
a soft ping interrupts you, sukuna's phone lighting up with a notification from his group chat with the other frat boys.
toji
yoo that's sick, think she can do her nails after me next? i think my cute pet worm would look great on her.
sukuna
fuck off, go find another girl. and for the record, your worm is disgusting.
toji
:(
something about fratkuna makes me all tingly inside 🫣 #lilireblogs