you and your friend are goofing around when you two decide to test out a tik tok trend: call your husband and tell him you accidentally signed up for nude pilatesâŠwith a male instructor who wonât give you a refund.
fluff â humor â mentions of nudity? idk
You were in your car with a close friend after eating at a restaurant, showing each other a few tik toks you thought were funny.
The topic shifted to those pilates classes Leon was paying for, you really wanted your friend to try it out with you since it could be boring driving to and from the studio alone.
âI donât know, is it beginner friendly?â She hesitated.
âYeah! Itâs actually really fun, it doesnât even feel like exercise,â you hummed.
âWaitââ your friend cackled, âhave you seen that tik tok where those people call their partners and say they signed up for naked Pilates?!â She was already whipping out her phone to look for the video.
âNo I havenât,â you chuckled, leaning over the dash to see her phone.
As you watched the video, a nefarious idea came to mindâŠ
You snickered, opening up Leonâs contact.
He was home from work by now, doing something lame like reading something on his phone.
âIâm gonna call Leonâ you decided.
âOh my god, wait heâll freak out,â Your friend chuckled, nudging your shoulder.
You pressed on his caller ID and motioned for her to shush.
Your friend nodded, getting the last few giggles out before she took a deep breath.
The phone rang twice before his deep voice resonated on the speakers of your car.
âHey gorgeous, everything okay?â
âHey, Iâm fine. Iâm here with my friend, but weâre in a little bit of a situation,â you explained, giving your friend a conspiring wink.
âThat doesnât sound good,â Leon said, âWhats goinâ on?â
âWe signed up for this Pilates class at a new gym together without really reading the description...â
âMhm?âŠâ
âBut itâs Nude-Lates,â your friend added.
There was a small pause.
âNude?âŠlikeââ
âWe have to be naked,â you confessed.
âWith other women!â Your friend clarified.
âThatâs interesting.â He huffed, just a little skeptical, âWhatâs that even for?â
âItâs like hot Pilates in a sauna, but naked, and apparently itâs supposed to be good for your body,â your friend elaborated.
âYeahâŠand the instructors a guy.â You darted your head away to suppress your laugh.
âWhat the fuck?â
You wiped the smile off your face and caught your breath, when you heard shuffling through the speaker.
âCan you call them to get a refund?â
âThatâs the problem we called the instructor and he wonât give us our money back,â your friend said, voice cracking just a bit.
âWe might just have to go, like they already took my moneyâŠâ you stressed, anticipating his reply.
âBabe, noâyou two arenât going. Wait, give me a second.â Leon grumbled.
When the line went quiet for a bit, you muted it to allow you and your friend to roar like hyenas, holding onto each other for dear life.
The smile was wiped off your face when you you got a notification on your phone.
Leon⥠sent you $1,000
Your friend took a gander at the notification and looked at you in disbelief.
âThereâs your money back, yeah? Give some to your friend, you two donât need to go.â He said, voice albeit panicked.
âThanks babe, but Iâm still mad he just finessed us like that, I donât know what to doâŠlike should-should we just go?â You egged him on just a little.
âHoney, noâŠâ he warned, you could tell his patience was slipping.
âOkay,â you conceded with a sigh, âhe was really weird in the phone though.â
â...He was weird? How?â He asked, sharp voice cutting through your speakers.
âHe said he canât wait to see usâŠâ your friend explained, before covering her mouth with her shirt.
You heard the jingle of keys and the faint sound of the door opening, âGive me the guys full name and number. Iâll have Sherry locate his address.â
You winced and your friend gasped at the sound of him chambering a round.
you dropped your daughter off at kentoâs apartment like every other friday, the four year old already bouncing in his arms the second he opened the door, chubby hands reaching for his tie while she babbled about her day at preschool.
he was still in his work shirt, sleeves rolled up neat, blonde hair a little messy from the long hours but his smile was soft and real when he looked at her, the same calm steady patience he always had.
things between you two hadnât worked out, the fights got too loud and the silences too heavy after she was born, but kento never missed a single pickup, never skipped a bedtime story, never forgot the tiny sailor moon backpack she loved. he was the best dad, always had been, and watching him swing her around gently while promising ice cream tomorrow made your chest ache in that familiar way you tried to ignore.
tonight though the handoff stretched longer than usual. she fell asleep on his couch mid-story when you arrived to pick her up and he offered you tea like always, voice low and polite, but the air felt thicker, eyes lingering on your mouth when you sipped from the mug. one thing led to another, quiet words turning into his hand on your waist, then your back against the kitchen counter, then somehow both of you stumbling into his bedroom still half dressed.
now he had you folded up so perfectly in full nelson, strong arms hooked under your knees and locked tight behind your neck, pinning u helpless against his chest while he thrust up from behind. you back arched hard over his torso, legs spread wide and useless in the air, pussy completely exposed and stretched around every thick inch of his cock as he pounded deep into you. the position kept you folded in half like a pretty little pretzel, spine curved, ass lifted off the bed just enough for him to slam home over and over, heavy balls slapping wet against your skin with every brutal snap of his hips.
âfuck⊠still so tight for me,â he groaned right against your ear, voice all gravelly and already wrecked. your pussy took him so greedily, puffy lips creaming thick white rings around the base of his cock every time he bottomed out, messy slick dripping down his balls and soaking the sheets underneath. each thrust made wet squelching sounds echo loud in the quiet room, your walls fluttering and clenching like they never wanted to let him go, gushing fresh cream every time his fat tip bullied against your cervix.
you could barely breathe, arms trapped useless at your sides, body bouncing helpless in his iron grip while he fucked you senseless, hips pistoning up fast and mean. âken⊠ahhhn⊠sâtoo deepâhahâŠâ your voice came out all broken and babbling, tears slipping down your cheeks from the overwhelming stretch, pussy creaming even harder around him till it frothed white and bubbly at the fat base.
he didnât slow, just growled low and fucked up harder into your poor cunt, using his strength to bounce you on his cock like u weighed nothing, the slap of skin so filthy and loud.
âcome back to me, loveâ he panted hot against ur neck, teeth grazing your skin while he ground deep and stayed there for a second, letting u feel every throbbing inch. âmiss this pussy⊠miss my wife⊠come home, baby, let me take care of both of you again.â his cock twitched hard inside you at the words, dragging another gush of cream from your fluttering walls as he started pounding even meaner, hips snapping up relentless.
your head spun, vision blurry from how full you felt, pussy clenching around him like vice, slick running down your ass and soaking his balls.
ânnghh⊠kentoâahhn⊠canât⊠too much⊠hahhâŠâ you whined incoherently, body shaking in his hold, legs trembling uselessly in the air while he railed you stupid, the position keeping you pinned perfectly for every deep stroke.
he just kept going, voice dropping lower and even filthier. âlook at how youâre creaming all over me⊠still mine, yeah? this pussy knows who it belongs to.â another brutal thrust, another wet squelch of your cunt, your walls spasming wild around his thickness till u were sobbing soft little sounds, cumming hard and gushing around him while he fucked you right through it.
after, when you were both panting and sticky, still tangled on the sheets, yoi finally caught your breath enough to mumble against his chest, âthis⊠doesnât mean anything yet⊠just.. give me time to... think about this.â your voice was all soft and breathy, pussy still twitching around his softening cock.
kento just huffed a quiet laugh, his big hand stroking down your back slow and gentle like he used to, lips burshing your sweaty temple. âstill saying that after i just fucked you senseless? we mightâve made a sibling for our daughter tonight, sweetheart⊠but sure, take all the time you need.â he pressed one last soft kiss to your hair, arms tightening around you like he had no plans of letting go anytime soon.
PLEASE I NEED RE9 LEON SO BADLY IK HE WPULD LOOK AFTER US SO WELL PLSSSSS
I cant
àȘâ⎠Aftercare with RE9!Boyfriend!Leon á°.á 18+
Leon wasnât a stranger to hard work or long distanceâ he was trained for it, quite literally. Thatâs why he cherishes his time at home, with you, why he settles for nothing more than to worship every inch of you in bed.
Heâs gotta make up for the lost time somehow, right?
And fucking you into the mattress until the only thing on your mind is him⊠is exactly how he does that, and heâs damn good at it too. He knows your body like he knows his way around a gun; itâs second nature to him. He knows exactly how to coax those breathless moans from your perfect lips and how to get you to arch up into him, when to press deeper and when to ease up, how to bring you over that edge and keep you right on the brink.
He gives it to you good, so itâs only logical that he takes care of you after heâs done fucking you dumb.
âYou always take it so good, baby,â he coos against your shoulder blade, where he brushes a series of feather-light kisses, his lips trailing slowly down your spineâ his stubble whispering against your flushed skin. âYou okay, hm? not too sore?â he almost sounds proud of himself.
âA little achy, itâs a good ache though.â You hum into the pillows from where youâre lying on your stomach, face buried into the silkâ your voice lazy and a little muffled.
âGood, means I did my job right,â you can feel his lips curl into a smug grin as he presses his face into the nape of your neckâ his big palm running over the curve of your hip. âcâmere, let me hold you.â
Your body, heavy and boneless, relaxes into his big warm armsâ he had joked one time that they were shaped to hold you, just like this, with your head tucked under his chin whilst his fingertips run nonsensical patterns up and down your spine in long soothing strokes, his touch grounding you in the moment, his heartbeat under your ear.
âWant me to go run you a bath?â reheat that pizza?â he murmurs against your temple, brushing a kiss to your hairline as you tilt your head to gaze up at those baby blues of his that the warm lamplight catches.
âMm, in a minute⊠just wanna look at you first,â he smirks at your needy response, bringing a hand up to run his fingers through your hair, a silent 'I'm here' in his touch.
âDonât think thereâs much to look at⊠mâjust wrinkles now baby,â he says, a faint chuckle catching in his deep voice.
He watches you roll your eyes at him, in that fond way you do whenever he says or does something ridiculous and god does he just thrive off of your little expressionsâ itâs free ammunition, that frown you get between your brows and that pout to your lips of yours that he loves to kiss right from your mouth.
You huff, muttering something about him âageing sexilyâ as you press a kiss to his stubbled jaw, then another to the corner of his mouth, lingering for a moment. âYouâre still my man.â
âDamn straight I am, baby, all yours.â He beams, pride warming behind his ribs and bleeding all through his chest as he hauls you closer to himâ dragging your thigh across his hips, your soft curves pressing up into the hard planes of his body like puzzle puzzles. âMy girl,â he whispers as if to remind himself, bumping his nose against yours before stealing a slow kiss that has you melting further into him with a pleased noise.
Your fingers thread through his salt and pepper hair, smiling against his mouth when you feel him lean into your hands with the faintest humâ his forehead dropping to yours.
âIâll build you that bookshelf tomorrow, after I make you breakfast.â you feel his voice rumble through his chest like distant thunder as he speaks, low and yet impossibly tenderâ always tender with you. âRight now, Iâm gonna run you a bath and get some food in you.â
And all you could do was nod, humming a grateful thanks. His words werenât up for debate, not when it came to looking after you.
AN: oh my god writers block has been beating the shit out of me lol. Iâm watching someone play Re9 and got the sudden urge and wrote this <3
summary - you are exhausted, a single mother and running a huge marketing company, and your sweet little daughter Yuuka is honestly a menace. She's chased away every single Nanny you've tried to hire! All alone with her, you just decide to start bringing her to work, when a man walks in who might as well be Mary fucking Poppins - Nanami Kento. Sweet, patient, and Yuuka just loves him on sight, you pay his very high salary and promise no overtime. But Nanami grows to love what is becoming a family too much, and you grow to crave more and more of his time. The lines blur - what's professional and what's real?
contents/warnings - so fluffy I'm surprised at myself aha, hurt/comfort, reader is a mom, past abuse from her ex (only briefly mentioned) eventual smut, sexual tension humor, Nanami being a sweetheart, Yuuka being adorable, found family vibesss
gonna be a little mini series based on the drabble here! Tags are open <3
part two>>>
part one
Youâre exhausted, juggling being a single mom and running a company was not easy, especially when your little daughter Yuuka loved to torment every single babysitter you got her. You found the highest quality Nannies, and not one of them could handle your little girl, she was an angel for you honestly, you couldnât believe half of the stories they came up with.
Sheâs sitting over with a bunch of barbies, smiling up at you so pretty, your heart melts while your fingers pause on typing on the keyboard. âAre you okay honey, do you need another snack?â
âMâgood mama!â Sheâs running up to you, letting a barbie kiss your cheek now, you laugh softly.
With Yuuka, youâre not a stern business woman like you have to be in the world, to be taken seriously as itâs run by nothing but men. You can be yourself. You get a call then, and itâs your secretary on the line. Yuuka runs back over to the corner with her tablet, sitting on the soft blankets you brought with you.
âYes?â
âI have a Mr. Nanami here to see you, are you available?â You blink a bit at that, curiously checking your schedule.
âHmm, I donât have a meeting scheduled. Does he want me to do marketing for him?â
âIâm not sure, but heâs hot.â
âOh god,â your secretary whispers it on the phone, she loves to try to get you with someone, all worried that youâre alone since you split with your ex. âYouâre such an instigator. Send him in, then.â
She practically maniacally laughs, buzzing him into your office, lit by the wide open floor to ceiling windows, youâre up in a high rise in the city, a beautiful view. When he walks in, he takes in the surroundings for the briefest of moments, a perfectly immaculate office, paintings on the walls, your desk is organized and a cherry wood, but one thing stands out.
Well, two things.
The adorable kid in the corner, full of colorful blankets, books and toys, smiling at him, and she looks just like a miniature version of the girl sitting at the desk â you. Youâre standing up, fingers pressed against the desk, wearing a sleek business suit just tailored to your body. Your hair is pinned up perfectly, not a strand loose, red lipstick standing out and matching the color of your blazer.
He falters, heâs here for an interview, and the last thing he needs to do is be rude or disrespectful, hitting on you or flirting with you would be out of the question, and unlike him. He hardly can remember why he came here for a second, stunned by you when you walk up to him and shake your hand, imposing presence despite the fact that you have to look up at him.
âHow can I help you, Mr. Nanami?â His eyes drift over to the girl again, he waves to her and she waves back. âSheâs a good kid, donât worry, we can still talk business. Have a seat.â
Nanami sits right in front of you, your eyes try not to linger on his strong chest in that pale blue dress shirt, heâs wearing a suit just a little baggy, as if heâs so big he needed to size up. Or maybe, comfort you imagine, curiously sitting now and eyeing the bright print tie, stark contrast to his black pinstripe, before flitting over to his face.
He is handsome, your secretary was completely accurate, so handsome you get nervous - you - usually immune to any manâs charms, one to make grown men cry actually. After your ex decided to be the shitty person he was, you had no issue kicking him out of your penthouse once you got the strength, the last thing Yuuka needed was to see a terrible, toxic relationship.
But your tummy flutters as he adjusts his tie, as if heâs a little nervous too, heâs so broad he just takes over your chair altogether, yet he seems sweet, his hazel eyes crinkling at the corners when Yuuka runs up. âHere!â
Sheâs handed him a barbie now, his lips quirk up a bit, and you giggle. The sound is not normal around anyone but your daughter, but it catches his attention immediately, looking over at the sweet little noise. You cover your mouth now, while she explains the story between the barbie dolls, theyâve apparently had a fight.
âYuuka honey, mommy has to work. We can play later.â She pouts now.
âWanna play!â
âDonât give me that look,â she knows how to play it already, cute little pout and her pretty eyes. âYuukaâŠâ
âSheâs perfectly fine,â he murmurs with ease, before tugging out a packet of papers, handing it over. âIâm actually here regarding the position you offered.â
âOh? Oh! The nanny position!â You peer at his resume, raising your eyebrows at his recommendations, he even had certification.
âA âmannyâ I guess.â His humor surprises you, glint in his gaze that makes you laugh again.
âMommyâs laughing! Thatâs good!â Yuuka is bouncing up and down, Nanami ruffles her hair and chuckles.
âDoes mommy need to laugh more often?â You heat up a bit when Yuuka nods, and he looks at you carefully.
âMommy is just very busy, and a little stressed.â You answer, and he sees it then, the tension in your shoulders, he canât imagine running a company could be easy for you.
The thought of rubbing said tense shoulders catches him off guard, he instantly shoves that thought back, while playing with Yuuka now. âIs the position still open?â
âIt absolutely is, um⊠Nanami, what got you into childcare?â
âI had to grow up really quick,â your heart hurts then at that, you blink back tears for a man you barely know, whoâs just getting along perfectly with your daughter, who tortures people for fun. âI donât want any kid to have to do that, so I thought Iâd try to keep the kid spirit alive.â
âOhâŠâ You damn near fight crying at how sweet that is, peering further at his resume, you recognize some of the names as fellow colleagues. âYouâre a regular Mary Poppins, huh?â
âMary Poppins?â He laughs with you, you pull him up on your computer and scroll to see he has gushing reviews.
âSuper Nanny, gosh look at all this.â Youâre reading more of his reviews, Nanamiâs cheeks are decorated red at your praise.
âI just have a way with kids I guess.â
âClearly, sheâs a menace.â
âAm not!â You stick your tongue out, and so does she, he canât help but shake his head, hiding another smile behind his hand.
âYou look just like your mama you know.â
âShe really does.â You mention, checking his background information heâd included for you.
âMommyâs pretty.â Yuuka is sweet sometimes, you gotta admit, you look at her and thank her, until she turns to Nanami. âIsnât she pretty?â
âOh, Yuuka donât ask that!â
âShe is very lovely,â Nanamiâs words do something to your heart, fluttering in your chest faster now.
âSee!â Sheâs mischievously giggling.
Lovely who even says lovely.
Whyâs it so sweet!?
His salary request is very high, but you donât mind at all, in fact youâd pay him more than that if he could help out and not run away from your daughter. Her pranks are ridiculous, youâve gotta hope sheâll behave. âIf you can handle her, Iâll hire you - and give you a hefty bonus if you make it a month. Your monthly salary doubled.â
âYou really think I wonât make it a month?â Heâs raising a brow, you shake your head and sigh when he looks at Yuuka. âAre you that scary, Yuuka?â
âI am sweet, they were mean!â
âThey were so not mean.â
âMhmm!â
âWell, Iâm not mean.â Sheâs clinging to his arm, far too cute, making you melt into a damn puddle at work.
âYouâre hired!â
âYuuka, I do that,â you cross your arms, your daughter is about as bossy as you, to a fault. âNanami, youâre hired.â
âPerfect, Iâm always up for a challenge. When do I start?â
âLike, now.âÂ
âNow!?â
*****
Nanami is such a miracle worker, truly. In one week with Yuuka, sheâs been completely sweet, no pranks or fits! In fact, when she does decide to get a little bratty with you, Nanami gently chides her. You find yourself working from home more often, wanting to be near them both, enjoying the presence far, far too much.
You enjoy Nanami, sure, but mostly you love seeing how he is with her, how she brightens and opens up more and more every day. Heâs worth all that expensive salary and then some, with the amount of work youâre able to get done - right down to him helping cook you dinner. Thatâs not what you asked at all, but you typically order out or heat up something with your schedule.
Exhausted, you came home Friday to him cooking, wearing a little white apron youâve never tried on, it barely fit him. You thought maybe you were in some day dream, imagine anyone cooking for you, let alone him. Yuuka was helping him stir eggs up, standing on a little pink step stool next to him. When they hear you walk in they both turn your direction.
âIâm hallucinating, a home cooked meal for me?â Youâre slipping off your heels, Nanami tells Yuuka to keep stirring, walking toward you then, looking far too attractive in that damn apron over his dress shirt and slacks.
âYou need to be taken care of too,â his words are soft, he notices then what heâs said, clearing his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. âThatâs too much.â
âNo, itâs⊠really sweet, umâŠâ Again, confident and never afraid, Nanami turns your brain to mush standing in front of you. âI want to cook more, I want to be able to do that with her. And you there will just⊠make it better.â
âThen come on, Iâll show you some things. You canât live on coffee.â He takes your hand, just a little coated in flour, the warmth spreading. Your eyes lock for a moment, neither of you speak, before you follow him over.
âI also drink wine you know,â you tie an apron on, winking at him. He shakes his head and sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.
âYou canât live on just that, either. Yuuka thatâs really good, youâre a pro.â
âYay! Mommy come here!â You soon are helping the two of them in the kitchen - itâs too easy, too comfortable. Something about it instead of just being fun, was touching you deeply, the more you fall into the easy rhythm.
Thatâs something you never had.
You try to remember, itâs just his career, something he loves to do, and not think that much into it, but having someone care for you? Worry about you? Even if it was mere kindness, it felt good, so good it was hard to focus on cooking, and Nanami is in front of you, a hand gently touching the small of your back. You gasp, realizing the bottom is sticking, stirring it around now.
âOh! Sorry, I was spaced out,â he takes your hand, moving the spatula slowly. âAh, I was doing too much.â
âYouâre doing just fine, youâre so tired Iâm surprised youâre standing.â You hear his concern, while heâs standing too close to you, you inhale that expensive cologne, enjoying his nearness.
âYou think Iâm that tired?â You turn your chin, looking up at him, he leans over and turns the burner down, before studying you intensely, like no one has ever looked at you before.
Like he knows you more than you do.
âYou may look beautiful with dark circles, but thatâs a sign youâre doing too much, not sleeping enough.â
Beautiful.
You blink a bit, turning your body to where you all are too close, Yuuka is in the living room on the other side of the wall, watching her show. Your heart pounds in your chest when he runs a thumb under your eyes, the coolness feeling far too good, you sigh at the sensation.
âI worked myself to death before,â he murmurs, swiping underneath your eyes gently, they flutter shut at how good it feels, listening to him. âI never will again, no amount of money is worth it.â
âI have so many responsibilities, youâre helping so much, truly.â
âInstead of working more because of me, maybe you can try to enjoy your life a little? I know itâs not my place, I know sheâs who Iâm here to care for. But youâre her mom, you know? She loves you so much.â You step back, hands on his wrists while they sit just an inch from your skin, and the two of you freeze there.
Heâs said too much, he worries now â that he shouldâve kept quiet, but how does he not see how much youâre suffering with the amount of work you do? Doing the job of ten people, barely able to walk when you come through that door, yawning constantly and downing ten espressos a day.
In a week heâs already grown to care for both of you, and itâs scary just how much he enjoys this. He doesnât want it to end because heâs put too much out there.
âI shouldnât-â
âYouâre right.â
âI am?â You sigh, nodding, and he exhales in relief. âThen let me help you, weâll cook together, and youâll eat a good dinner every night Iâm here.â
âYes, sir.â Youâre teasing but that fucks him up, to the point it takes a lot not to kiss you, press you against that counter, kiss the red lipstick off your mouth.
He doesnât say it of course, quickly going back to cooking, quiet for a moment. âCome here, Iâm going to show you how to properly make noodles, yours are awful.â
âHey now!â
âYou overcook them to mush.â
âRude!â Youâre so fucking happy though, cooking next to him, thankful he exists.
*****
Soon you do enjoy cooking more, and you canât help but show off your skills, but many times Nanami would have to go home quickly after eating. He did not like overtime, even if he enjoyed you all very much, heâd always peer at his rolex at the exact same time every day. You couldnât help but enjoy those little quirks about him more and more as the time passed.
âNanami, stay and watch a movie with us,â you mention one night, when heâs already about to slip on his jacket. âNeed me to pay you overtime?â
âNonsense,â he falters then, however, the more time he spends, the more he feels, and being closer to you is difficult. He doesnât want to cross that line with you, blur them, whatsoever, but itâs almost impossible the more time he spends. âI just donât want to impose.â
âNot at all, weâd love to have you watch a movie,â you pat the couch and smile at him. âMaybe a glass of wine?â
âOne.â He agrees, his cheekbones jutting out as he tenses his face at your grin, far too pretty, making his heart race when you jump up, Yuuka is bouncing up and down.
âNanami is staying!â
âHe is, letâs make snacks!â
Soon heâs got Yuuka curled up on his lap, you on the other side of him, a bowl of half full popcorn sitting right in front of you all on the table. âShe likes you more than me, no fair.â
âShe does not,â heâs chuckling, a hand on your thigh now, you feel your body react to the easy touch, itâs nothing inappropriate, itâs casual. But itâs too much, especially when you look down at his hand. âShe loves you.â
âI know,â you put your hand over his, seeing the crazy difference in size, if the man doesnât have the biggest hands. You peer and see Yuuka is snoring, her little arms around his neck. âOh, I should put her to bed.â
âIâve got it.â He stands with her, cradling her to his chest now, she blinks the sleep from her eyes and yawns. âSay good night to mommy.â
âNight mommy.â She mumbles, you stand and kiss her cheek.
âNight sweet girl.â You pick up the remote, pausing the movie, grabbing the bowl of popcorn on the table and the glasses, taking them to the kitchen.
Youâre rinsing the dishes when Nanami walks by, seeing you still in your business skirt and blouse, a little untucked from the waistband. He tries to avoid the natural feeling of wanting to tug your waist to him, to press little kisses along your neck, this was a reason he usually left. You thought it was overtime, and he let you think just that, but it wasnât even close.
The more time he spends, the more it feels like a family, the thought terrifies him. Nanami was a professional, always, the entirety of his career, he prided himself on just that. Yet something clicked that never has, leading to the worst thoughts, imagining taking you right there, slipping your skirt up, wondering just how badly you needed the release he could give you.
âYou just gonna burn holes in my back, Kento?â Youâve never said his first name, and the way it sounds on your lips?
Fuck.
âYou have eyes in the back of your head?â He teases, you look over your shoulder while you rinse a cup. âWant help?â
âYou do enough around here.â
âI donât mind any of it at all.â You relax a bit hearing it, he comes over and rolls up his sleeves â and you damn near drop what youâre washing, when you see those veiny, strong forearms up close. âHere, Iâll dry them.â
âThank you,â he stands so tall next to you, his scent fucking up any good sense you have left. âWould you like to make this a thing? A movie night?â
âWould you like that?â His tone is husky, the desire is hot in your tummy when his gaze flits over to you.
âWe both would. Iâm sure you have a life, um⊠maybe you date? But if you wouldnât mind once a week. I really liked it.â
âI am not seeing anyone.â
âOh.â
âDo you? See anyone?â He tries to make it sound casual, easy, but he is furious for some reason about picturing you with anyone. Itâs terrible, everything heâs thinking of doing to you â a man so composed.
âAh, no, my ex has put me off dating forever maybe.â
âHe never comes around, does he?â You suck in a breath, shaking your head, he finishes putting the dishes up, leaning a hip on the counter, you do the same. âWhy not? Is he an idiot?â
âHe is an idiot,â you laugh softly, but heâs very serious. âUm, he was⊠not nice to me⊠mentally, physically.â
âFuck Iâm so sorry,â he cups your face carefully, you blink back tears but fail, crying about it for maybe the first time since he left. âCome here.â
Heâs tugged you against his hard chest, warm and inviting, big arms wrapping your body now, a hand affectionately on your head as you let it go. The pain of thinking about back then, thinking how you let him run you over, so different from who you are now, itâs too much. Itâs too perfect in his arms, like you never want to leave, crying against his fancy shirt.
âSorry, shitâŠâ
âDonât be,â heâs stroking your hair, a mix of emotions making his throat tighten. He wants to hold you, comfort you â but also anger at whoever would lay a hand on you, or not give a fuck about his own kid. âIâm sorry someone hurt you. I promise if I saw him, he sure the fuck wouldnât be able to say a word.â
âKento!â You giggle through your tears, surprised by him. âI thought you were a gentle giant, whatâs this?â
âGentle with you two, sure, he wouldnât want to fight me though.â You see it now, a little fiery personality under those layers of calm, he canât help but smile with you, brushing your hair back. âIf you ever feel unsafe and heâs trying to come around, you can always call me or tell me.â
âYou donât have to do half of the things you do,â you look up under lashes dripping with tears, sniffling just a bit. Nanami exhales, just a breath away from your lips, you can almost taste him. âI really appreciate you. Iâm not sure I can explain just how much.â
Your hand rests on his chest, where his heart is pounding steadily against your palm. Itâs quiet, no sounds but the whirling of the fan over your heads, the sounds of your breaths intermingling. Heâs got his lips close, too close, hands slipping down the sides of your waist.
Youâre scared to let anyone in, especially someone that seems so perfect â youâre not at all, despite how you come across at times, you donât have it all together really. Nanami sees that messier side of you, the exhausted mom running on nothing, and for once you can really let that side show in his presence, not hide it.
âI appreciate you,â he whispers, far, far too close now, you lower your gaze to his lips, thin upper lip but the poutiest lower one, just a little glossy when he runs his tongue along them. âIâm loving being here, I donât want anything to ruin it.â
âI donât either,â you realize youâre leaning in, just as he is, tilting your chin up with two fingers. âYou really think Iâm beautiful with dark circles, huh?â
He scoffs a bit, smiling down at you. âYouâre just beautiful, dark circles or not. Theyâve gotten a little better.â
âThatâs because of you,â he shuts his eyes for a moment, fighting it, the instinct to kiss you, to kiss every part of you, but youâre looking too prettily up at him, ending his resolve, he grabs your hips and tugs you to him, making you gasp. âKentoâŠâ
âYouâre calling me by my first name,â he whispers, his straight nose just barely nuzzling yours, itâs hard to breathe suddenly, suffocating on the energy, the desire. âDo you like to call me that, darling?â
âDarlingâŠâ Youâre blushing, so prettily then, he rubs your overheated cheeks, his hazel eyes lidded, those blond lashes lowered, casting shadows on the hard planes of his cheekbones. âI might like that too much.â
âOh?â You nod, leaning up, when you hear it â Yuuka rushing down the stairs. You two quickly part, both blushing messes, and sheâs running to Nanami, hugging his pant leg now.
âNanami, forgot to say bye!â He smiles, brushing her hair gently and smiling, a tired little smile directed at you.
âDonât go yet, I have something,â you shake it off â the tension, the desire â remembering who he is, why heâs here. And how much you appreciate him. You grab the envelope, handing it to him, Yuuka comes to hug your waist now, you pull her to your side. âJust a thank you.â
âThis is too muchâŠâ He frowns now, you already pay his truly high salary, but the bonus is ridiculous. âItâs just been a couple weeksâŠâ
âItâs been plenty of time. I just want you to know how much it means to me,â you trail off, blinking rapidly. âUm, having you here with us.â
âOf course,â he shakes his head, trying to hand it back to you. âItâs really too generous, ridiculous even.â
âPlease, just keep it. Weâll have another movie night, right?â He smiles, nodding to Yuukaâs delight, before coming up and kissing her head tenderly, then pressing a little kiss on your temple before he can think better of it. Your heart aches, the gesture so precious while you hold your daughter in your arms.
âIâll see you beauties tomorrow morning.â Heâs off quickly now, Yuuka snuggles against your neck, her little hands gripping your blouse.
âMama, I love him.â She says, you barely hold it back, the longing for more, the emotions of your daughter loving someone, to have a man that truly cares.
You can hardly stand to think itâll end one day.
âIâm so glad, baby. Letâs go to sleep.â
When you are in bed, you toss and turn, remembering the heat of his body against yours, the sweet breath on your lips, so worked up for the first time in years truly. Your ex really did a number on you, and these thoughts werenât in your head at all â it was business, and your daughter â there was no room for anything else, until Nanami.
Little do you know, heâs picturing you in his bed at the same time, yet heâs not as composed as you, heâs lost his composed nature in fact, trying to feel terribly guilty for jerking off to the thought of you.
Kento comes home tired, with that quiet exhaustion that doesnât complain. He takes off his watch, carefully folds his jacket, and almost without realizing it, ends up lying face down on the couch, one arm hanging loose, his breathing deep and steady. He didnât plan to fall asleep⊠but his body decides for him.
And as if it were an unwritten law, the children feel it.
The oldest arrives first, the boy. He already understands that dad needs to rest, so he doesnât wake him. He sits carefully on the floor beside Kentoâs head, his back against the couch. He pulls out a book or a quiet toy. Sometimes, without thinking, he rests his hand over Kentoâs, like an anchor.
Then the girls arrive. One by one.
One climbs onto his back with extreme care, as if stepping onto sacred ground. She settles between his shoulder blades, using her father as a warm mattress. Another curls up at his side, her cheek against his shoulder. The youngest tries to copy the others and ends up half on top of him, half sideways, breathing slowly.
Kento doesnât move, he only lets out a deeper sigh. Because even asleep, he knows. He knows his children are there. He knows they trust him without question.
And his body, large and steady, becomes what it has always been for them: a refuge.
Sometimes he murmurs something in his sleep.
A barely audible âItâs okay.â
A name. No one startles. No one moves.
Because dad is there.
And you watch them from the doorway, your chest tight with love, seeing how your four children gather around Kento as if he were the center of the world. And maybe he is.
Because to them, Kento Nanami is not just their father. He is warmth. He is safety. He is the place where the world stops hurting.
And when he wakes up, his body stiff, one girl asleep on his back, another holding his arm, the oldest still at his sideâŠ
âthatâs it, honey. cum all over my tongue. keep those pretty eyes on me.â
your cries are muffled around kentoâs signature tie that he stuffed into your mouth before pushing you in the chair behind his desk. heâs currently on his knees under it, your thighs gripped tightly in his hands and spread wide, opening your pretty cunt to his mouthâs assault.
âbeen dreaming about this, about her.â heâs not talking to you, heâs whispering filth between your folds, the breath of his words making your cunt spasm around nothing, desperate to be filled. youâre so gorgeous like this he thinks, carefully picked outfit askew, the telltale signs of ruination clear on your features.
âmmhâmmmmnn, mmmmhmmmââ
âshush, honey. donât want anyone to disrupt our lunch break, do we?â
his mouth settles back over your swollen clit, sensitive from the past orgasm he just pulled from you. the leather of his armrests squeaks under your grip and your head falls back, limp when kento starts to suck and swirl his tongue around the nerve, your thighs trembling around his head.
his cock hangs heavy from his unbuttoned slacks, twitching with every noise you make, with every one of your breaths that catch in your throat. he wishes the floor was empty, wishes he could let you scream his name to echo around his office and off the windows, maybe press you to them as his cock bullies its way past your folds and fucks you nice and deep.
his hips jerk, cock lacking stimulation but it feels like heâs on the precipice of cumming right along with you again, one of his hands leaving your thigh to circle two fingers around your dripping entrance before plunging them in without warning, smiling around your clit when your muffled scream reaches his ears.
âwhere is she, honey, hm?â his fingers curl experimentally, stroking over your sensitive walls again and again, spurred on by your stifled cries and your body tenses at the perfect press before you go limp, breathing so raggedly. he smiles triumphantly, pressing on the spot with every push, delighted by the punched out moans that accompanies each one.
âthere she is, gonna make you cum just like this. you want to, right? my perfect employee.â
you keen under his praise and promise, back arching away from his chair, attempting to push your cunt closer to his face, eager for his mouth to return to you, to push you closer to the edge, to hear those words that will make your head spin and your world rockâ
âsuch a good girl for me.â
he feels your reaction to his words before he sees it. your cunt flutters around around his fingers, spilling filthily down his hand and on the floor between his thighs, creating a puddle of sweet cum that he would lick up if he wasnât preoccupied. he licks your clit to help you through the shattering orgasm, your eyes rolling and the accompanying whine is like music to his ears.
feeling you squirt around his fingers almost takes him out and he has to force his eyes to stay open, to stay fixed on your wrecked expression and heaving chest as his cock twitches violently once, twice, before heâs cumming untouched right after you, adding to the mess of arousal underneath him.
heâs distractedly still stroking your softness, still sucking your clit through his aftershocks making you moan, pushing his head away and grabbing his wrist to stop his torture. he finally releases you, gulping down breaths and slowly sliding his fingers free, watching with hazy eyes as your opening tries to suck his fingers back inside.
âwell, sweetheart,â his gaze find yours, wet with tears and already fixated on him, âiâd say thatâs promotion worthy, wouldnât you?â
18+ nanami isn't messing around when he asks you to sit on his face
there were two simple promises you could always count on your boyfriend to uphold.
the first being that he would always get off work at the same time every night. no overtime, ever. the second promise being that as long as he was your man, you would always cum on his tongue first. no exceptions.
tonight is no different from the unbelievably high standard nanami had set for you. you're perched on your haunches right above his open maw, thighs bracketing either side of his flushed face. the cool touch of your padded headboard where your cheek currently rests is your only salvation from the overwhelming pleasure between your legs.
he'd all but melted into you the moment he got home. this was his sanctuary after a long day. right here, with his one and only girl, straddling his face like he was made for it.
he pulls away to address you, chin and neck gleaming with slick.
"i thought about you all day." he confesses, a string of saliva connecting him to your hole. "about this." you look down just in time to watch as his tongue maps a slow path up the length of your heat.
the slow, steady suction on your clit renders you speechless for a moment. your boyfriend laughs softly.
"think im gonna cum." you muster.
nanami's face softens.
"can you sit for me, baby?" you know he's not really asking, not with how hungry he sounds as you hover only millimeters from his glossy mouth.
his request bounces around in your head for a moment, absorbing slowly.
he'd floated the idea around before, said it was something he'd always been interested in. its not like youâre opposed, per se. you love his mouth on you, craved it even. hovering felt safe, but sitting felt like uncharted territory.
"isn't that a lot of weight for you, kento?"
nanami sighs in... frustration? helplesness? you're not even sure what to call it.
hazel toned eyes peer up at you from between your legs. the furrow between his brows deepening.
âi am a grade one sorcerer." he whispers. "I shed my weight in blood every week exorcizing things you couldn't even fathom." the blond pauses, inhaling a ragged breath.
"when i tell you sit, i mean. sit. down."
this is the first time you've seen nanami so convicted. the cracks in his usually calm temperament grow deeper with every passing second. he didn't simply crave your full weight on his tongue, he ached for it. in every sense of the word.
"please." his voice cracks halfway through the word, desperation clear as day.
you feel the tension ease from your muscles as the aftershocks of his little bravado sets in. the thought of sitting, really sitting, doesn't seem so scary anymore.
you nod, a giddy feeling taking hold in your stomach.
"i'd love to sit."
those four words are all he needs to hear. two muscular arms close around each of your thighs in an instant, pulling you down and onto his outstretched tongue with a heavenly sigh
Synopsis. By day, Nanami Kento is the perfect husband. Devoted. Loving. A gentle father to your two children. By night, heâs aching to stuff you pregnant with your third. CĂłckbIocked. Ravenous. Just waiting for the moment he can goâŠfull-on beast mode.
A/N. Based on the manga âBy Day, a Devoted Husband. By Night, Full-on Beast Modeâ by The Waidan.
T-minus 5 days until the long weekend.
âReading journalâŠpencil caseâŠextra capâŠâ Youâre rifling through the essentials stuffed inside your energetic sonâs backpack. He was five already, and reaching that age where he just insisted he could do all those âbig boyâ things by himself. âHmâŠI think you have everything-â
âReally? Yippeeââ Yujiâs pumping his fist in the air, before heâs immediately tugging the Spiderman-covered bag out of your hands and darting towards the open door. âOkay, momma- myfriendsareheregottogoloveyoubye-â
You watch after the blur of Spiderman and orange t-shirt in a slight daze, âAh- right. I love you, b-â BeforeâŠyou just slightly turn your head to the side, and in your peripheral vision you see- âWait! Yuji, you forgot your-â
A hand on your hip. A strong figure by your side.
âYuuujiââ A stern yet warm voice echoes, stopping the boy in his tracks in a split-second. âYouâve forgotten your lunch box, sunshine.â And towards the blond-haired man, you turn your head appreciatively.
Nanami Kento.
Your husband.
His overlarge palm cupped the side of your hips, and youâre only glad that Yuji couldnât see from there the way that Nanami gives you a good squeezeâ
âKento-â With a breathy whisper, youâre swatting at Nanamiâs chest. Right in-between his prominent pecs, where Nanamiâs usual office shirt was pulled tightly over his broad front, buttoned up like a gift- and even then, you glimpse slivers of his white undershirt peaking out.
Nanami was just so naturally chiselled, in all the years youâve known him. And you could swear that heâd only grown more built since expanding your family, with more hands-on labor - you guessed there was no better gym than a house with two children.
Slightly leaning up to him, youâre biting back a smile to mutter. âYujiâs going to see.â
Nanami only softly chuckles, walking out through the front door to meet his son halfway. Dutifully, Yuji turns around so that his father can re-pack that haphazard bag of his, squeezing the (also) Spiderman-patterned lunch box inside.Â
The boy pouts, âI pwomise I packed it.â
âMmm, I believe you.â He replies, with just a slight hint of amusement. And once Nanami was done zipping up Yujiâs backpack, he turns his son around and crouches down to meet him at eye-level. âBut, next time, how about we double check, sunshine? Just to make it easier on poor momma?â
Yuji considers it for a second- âOkay!â Before he runs back down the smooth, grey-stoned pathway leading up to your cozy lilâ house.Â
Nobara and Megumi were already waiting for him beyond your house gates, and they slightly balked as they watch their friendâs father stand to his full height afterwards. Marvelling at those huge shoulders. His towering height. The way that Nanami Kento was just so large that his hair seemed to form a coiled, golden halo in the morning sunlight.Â
It casted shadows on his handsome, handsome features. Accentuating that kind smile of his, just the tiniest dimple at the end of his lips.
You couldnât blame them - you were ogling him, too.
âYouâre huuuuge, Mr. Yujiâs Dad.â Nobara squeaks, once Nanami has accompanied his son safely outside. She casts a tiny hand over her brows to shade it from the sun as she stares.
Nanami smiles shyly, and hastens to grip onto the lilâ handle at the back of Yujiâs backpack - likely to stop him from running into (soon) oncoming traffic, you knew what your son was like. âWhy thank you, my dear. But you can just call me âuncleâ if youâd like-â
âIs your willy huge, too?â That question was, expectedly, asked by none other than Fushiguro Megumi. And you donât have to look to know that the surly little boy was likely pointing, too.
Honestly- not even covering your mouth and gnawing down on the insides of your cheek can stop the bark of laughter from leaving you. Pwah! Your eyes crinkle into slits of amusement, and through them youâre catching the helpless look that your husband throws your way. Cornered by a vicious, merciless trio of elementary schoolers.
Youâre waving your hand in front of himâa motion to just go on.
You wanted to see what heâd say (or not say). And Nanami just opens his mouth when-
âIt is.â When all of a sudden, Yujiâs the one to pipe up with the long-awaited answer. Proudly, heâs turning to his laughing friends with his hands on his hips, âOnce I needed to pee real bad when papa was showering, so I just went in and saw it- itâs huuuââ
âLook- look! The bus is coming.â Rapidly, Nanami claps his hand over Yujiâs mouth and diverts all attention towards the hounding yellow school bus that was crawling towards them now. Like an oversized caterpillar, of sorts, with the antenna and painted-on face in front to match.
And Nanami Kento was never a fan of these decorated school buses. Never a fan of those soulless blue eyes that a bus should honestly never have.
But right now it felt like the pearly gates of heaven had just opened.
He was bathed in warm relief, ushering the still-giggling trio inside the opening doors of the bus. With a kiss on his cheek goodbye, soon enough you and Nanami were waving off Yuji as he was ferried off to school.Â
Leaving behind only his gap-toothed grin, the clouded fumes of the bus, and you sighing- âWell, itâs certainly a loud morning.â Youâre turning to Nanami, who was still slightly pale from the- ahemâŠdiscussion before. âYou know, heâs already insisting on making his own school lunch? I just barely managed to keep it contained to packing only his school bag.â
Nanami snorts, âWhat- and survive on a pack of goldfish all day?â
âAnd the bugs from the playground, I donât know why he keeps picking at those.â
Your husband throws an arm around your waist as you walk back to the house together. And his strong, heavy forearm almost seems reluctant to leave your body so that he can continue tying his work tie.Â
From where it was left off earlier- âStrange child he is.â He loops it âround that collar of his, and your eyes watch the bob of Nanamiâs throat - so unintentionally attractive. âCan you believe that heâs five already? And Chosoâs about to start middle school, theyâre growing up too fast.â
âThey certainly are.â You hum, handing over Nanamiâs neat briefcase once heâs done. âI almost miss when they were just so tiny, and I could pick them both up at once- oh, but I do love them as is.â
He huffs out lovingly, that dimple making an appearance once more. âI know what you mean perfectly, my love.â
Itâs a comfortable affair retracing your steps back to the front door, like you had with Yuji earlier. Though much slower, much moreâŠlingering. Youâre hanging by the frame of the door as he steps out, and just before he was about to say his goodbyesââYou know- I wouldnât mind doing it all over again.â Nanami damn near snaps his head turning back to face you, looking you dead-on in the eyes. âThe children.â
Two fatal blows.
Nanamiâs eyes widen. Nanamiâs mouth drops, drier than the Sahara right now. A thin line of perspiration glides down his face. And you watch his body almost step all the way back inside the house. Nanamiâs fingers tremble on his briefcase, and you watch it slightly slip-Â
Before heâs managing to stop himself.Â
Shaking his head, the blond-haired man retracts his step and clears his throat. âIs that-â Faltering, he has to do so again. âI mean- ahem, is that so, my darling? You wish to have another ch-child?â
Slightly bemused, you only nod.
But of course, Nanami is paying laser-focused attention to each of your words, your signals. And you can see the bump of his Adamâs apple gulpâas he takes in just what you were implying. Tightening his formal silk tie âround his throat, âThen I believe, ahâŠI believe we should perhaps discuss this a little more. For both our own goods. Iâll be back a little early tonight, and weâll talk through the um- details, is that alright?â
âSounds good to meââ You hum, not oblivious to the manâs shattering composure inside. Nanami Kento hid it well - always so stoic, always so sensible, always so respected in his work place. On more than one occasion, youâd gotten comments from tittering women that they only wished they could have a husband that held it together even half as much.
But as his wife you knew it all.
And you knew when there was a chance that this stoic, sensible, stern Nanami Kento was about toâŠbreak.
So without a single second of hesitation, your dominant hand reaches out to grab him by the tie- simultaneously straightening it at the middle of his chest and dragging Nanamiâs head down to meet yours in a soft, soft kiss. Just the slow slide of your lips. Sensual. âIâll see you then, Kento.â Murmuring against his lips, you pull away with a smile. âCanât miss the daily kiss. Have a great day at work~!â
A smile that utterly kills him.
Your husband walks slightly stiffly all the way to the car. And with a final wave, heâs speeding off down the street as if getting to work sooner might just make the day end sooner, as well.
With a slight giggle, you head back inside.
.
.
.
T-minus 4 days until the long weekend.
Unfortunately, that âdiscussionâ had to wait until the day after, because Nanamiâs workplace had been overdue on a few proposals (inconveniently misplaced by the new intern, and conveniently handed to your husband). And heâd ended up driving back home past 12AM, after youâd already put both the kids down to bed.Â
With you so tired after a long day of taking care of the house and waiting up for him, how could he possibly even think of infringing on your precious hours any longer?
So all Nanami had done was clean himself up hastily, and carry you back to your shared bedroom where youâd been drowsing on the living room couch. Cuddling you to sleep. Promising that youâd talk about it the day after.
You understood, of course.
You and Nanami had been together for about twelve years, after all (if you wanted to know the exact date, down to the number of hours and minutes, you could ask him and heâd certainly remember). From lovers to a married couple, to being blessed enough to adopt Yuji and Choso when they were young.
Despite two bustling boys, you had to admit that yours and Nanamiâs sex life hadnât exactly died down.
Just a sneaky quickie before anyone woke upâŠperhaps getting handsy underneath the covers after a long dayâŠ.And with Yuji now old enough to share a room with his older brother (theyâd been begging for bunk beds for too long), you could finally start having sex at home again.
Perfect.
Right?
Except, well, it wasnât exactly the same as it once wasâ
âN-ngh, fuckâŠâ Your jaw drops open with a sloppy moan, saliva cascading out of you with a splosh! just as soon as Nanamiâs stuffing you all the way to his hilt.
Here was the result of your âdiscussionâ tonight - if you could even call it that.
The trimmed golden hairs decoratinâ his base carnally scratch your clit, and youâre lewdly grinding yourself backwards. Every tiny movement leaves him stirring up your insides oh-so-perfectly, and your body wracks with shivers. âPlease- please, Kento. S-start movingâŠâ
âSo needy.â Nanamiâs crinkling his straight nosebridge as he stares you down, with your spine curved perfectly back into him. Those plump lips of his kiss a line down your backâlong tongue coming out to taste your skin. âMissed you sâmuch. Fuck, you donât know how much I missed you-â
And with that, he gives a heaving thrust that makes you gasp and grab at the rickety headboard. You could feel the plumpness of Nanamiâs tip throb-throb-throbbing at your throat- âMissed you, too. Been wantinâ for you to- ngh, fuck me so bad, baby.â
âNâ thatâs exactly what Iâm about to do.â Heâs smugly crooning out, the curvature of his shaft just lightly puckering up at your sweetest spots - Nanami had you mapped out exactly.Â
Hard and fast.
Moving in slight bucks and grinds.
Smearing his reddened, swollen tip against your tender insides.
âExactly about to fuh-fuck you until that pussyâs all satisfied.â The toned lines of Nanamiâs hips rut into you like such an animal- and his meaty thighs push you further and further up the springy mattress. âTo fill you up.â Leaving you whining wildly at his spears. âTo pound a ba- mm.â Leaving you limp under his touch, leaving him reaching his hands over and cupping your tits so that he can manhandle you upright and at his mercy when-
KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCKâ!
âMomma? Papa?â
And that was exactly why it wasnât the same as before.
You freeze instantly.
Tiny sniffles ring out from the other side of the door, and the locked door handle jingles to no avail. Yujiâs small, scared voice pipes up, âMomma, I frew upâŠâ
You look at Nanami, and Nanami looks at you.
âShit.â
âShit-âÂ
Heâs easing out of you with the loudest, messiest sluuuuurpâ! Multiple ribbons of slick nâ precum combine to form a sheen that glues the insides of your thighs together, and youâre shivering at the feeling of his wide girth pulling out.
Letting off a slight noise of discontent as your walls clench emptily, cunt throbbing angrily for him to fuck you again. Your hips buck in primal instinct as you watch Nanami tuck himself back into his pants and put on his large shirt, though you have to hold yourself back - you were missing him already.
âShhhh, shhh.â Nanamiâs clammy palm rests down on your sticky thigh, and heâs carressinâ the skin there back and forth to soothe you. It worksâŠsomewhat.Â
And youâre making to move off of the bed, âIâll get-â
âNo, let me.â Firmly, heâs pinning you back down just with that singular, clammy palm plastered to your thigh. Just that show of his strength is enough to make your glistening hole throb once more- and youâre forced to bite down on your lower lip to stop yourself from making a noise.Â
He lovingly taps your leg, and lets the bedframe creak in agony after him (you felt much the same). Nanami hums, âIâll take care of it. You just get some rest, my darling. You did so well.â
Youâre burying yourself underneath the soft covers as the spike of light from the hallway enters the room. Nanami - fully softened now, fully shook of the shreds of carnal desire within him - opens the doorway to crouch in front of his teary son. âLetâs get you cleaned up and Iâll read you a bedtime story, how about that, sunshine?â
The pink-haired boy nods, âMhm!â
By the time he got back, you were peacefully slumbering away.Â
Nanami Kento only fixed the straps of that cute nightgown you were donning once more, snuggling up to you underneath the covers with the half-asleep promise of a proper (proper, this time) discussion tomorrow.
.
.
.
T-minus 3 days until the long weekend.
Nanami Kento was hungry.
Famished.
Absolutely ravenous.
Heâd made it only two steps after getting home early from work. Inside your sweet-smelling kitchen, the scent of vanilla and summer heat in the air- before your strong husband was sprawling you out across the marble counters and lavishing his long tongue down the side of your cheek.
Swirlinâ tastebuds licking away the smudges of cream on your skin, âMmmââ Nanamiâs groaning against the side of your face, his scorching breath simmering against your flesh. âSomething smellsâŠâ His fingers slipping down between your trembly legs- â-sweet, darlinâ.â
And before you know it - fuck, before you can even think of it - youâre gnawing down on the edge of his plush deltoid.Â
Your moans cracking at the back of your throat as heâs slipping his way inside, the deliciously curved tip of his cock stuffs against the roof of your cunt. Burrowing out a bruise there that makes your eyes roll to the back of your skull, âShit- I swear you become bigger- ngh, every time.â
âMmm, thatâs because this pretty pussyâs been missing me too much.â He breathily chuckles, a slight hitch in his breath as your sloppy walls clench. âProbably harder for her to take me every time.â
âNo no, I swearââ With a whine, youâre arching your back in a signal for him to rover past your folds even deeper. Teeth setting on edge once one of Nanamiâs thick veins grope into your slobbery insides, stretchinâ out your cunt to his sheer size.
He was being so gentle. He was being so loving. He was absolutely ruining your pussy on his half-thrusts- just trying to fit inside.
Probe after probe, the slippery line of his slit leaves your mouth watering. The perfect crevice that renders you babbling away stupidly, âI swear you get even bigger whenever we- hck! talk aboutângh.â
âYeeees?â There was something wild in your husbandâs eyes, boring down at you through his clammy blond strands. It was just so fuckinâ cute the way that you lost your train of thought anytime Nanamiâs length went mazing inwards- âWhenever we talk about what, my love? Haaaah, finish your sentences.â
As he tuts youâre gaspingâand he knows exactly what youâre alluding to. âWhenever we t-talk about-â
âMhmâ?â
Drooling mouth snapping open, heâs bottoming out. âBa-â Directly hitting your cervix with the crowned, globular end of his shaft. So, so reddened with need. âBab-â
âMommaâ? Papaâ?â A voice calls out, young and painfully oblivious to what was obscured in the kitchen. In the distance, you could hear the slamming of the front door.Â
A bag being set down on the table.
Footsteps.
Chosoâs voice echoes out once more when he doesnât receive an answer, unused to not having his parents respond to him immediately. You could hear the slight pout in his voice even from here- âCan one of you help me with my homeworkâ?âÂ
Mercifully, Choso doesnât enter the kitchen - instead, keeping himself confined to the television room where he was starting to set out his school books. Choso doesnât take a peak at where youâd urgently disjointed yourself from Nanami, smoothing down your upturned skirt and taking a look at the clock-
âOh my goodness, I forgot his art classes were cancelled today- itâs time already.â You gasp, reading the ticking face of the clock that knew what you two just did.
Apologetically, youâre whipping your face around to face Nanami - who was back to tucking his softened length inside in a way that reminded you of just last night. Despite the slight furrow between his blond brows, Nanami shakes his head understandingly. âSâjust time.â He grunts, zipping his pants back up and wiping away the droplets of sweat on his forehead. Your husband kisses your temple, âWeâll find some other time, my love?â
âMhm.â Heart fluttering at the soft peck, you watch as his hulking frame walks out of the kitchen to help Choso with his homework. âWe willâŠâ
Though, a part of you doubted you might.
But you hoped.
.
.
.
T-minus 2 days until the long weekend.
âFuckâŠâ Nanamiâs peering down at you through partially-cracked lids, and from down here it looked as if his molten peripherals were almost made of fire.Â
Burning straight at you underneath his professional work desk. Trying for al his will not to flutter them shut at the feeling of your lavish tongue gliding down his cockââFuck, my love- that mouth of yours is absolute sin.â
Heâd been wading through some important work documents before youâd ambushed him in his office. Before youâd simply dropped to your knees and fumbled with his shorts like you were a woman starved.
Lappinâ all over his thick, throbbing like the shiniest of lollipops.
Lick after lick.
Your saliva-glazed muscle flattens over the top of his cock for a few seconds. âMmmââ Youâre vibratinâ out your moans against his length, and it sends sparks travelling all the way down from the line underneath Nanamiâs plum-colored tip. Where your husbandâs shaft was just dribbling out hot wires of pre down to your tastebuds, puddlinâ all over. âTastes sho, mmm, nice-â
âOh- fuck!â His head falls back against the back of his chair, and you catch the way that Nanamiâs Adamâs apple bobs at the feeling of your greedy tongue.
Just that sensual ridged texture- fuck, it was all that he could think about. A carnal scratch. The way you were flopping it right out into his most sensitive spots, drag-drag-draaaagging it along his elongated length.Â
Nanamiâs right hand comes down to grip his base, and youâre whining as he lifts his shaft off of your open tongue. With a chuckle, heâs placing his cock side-by-side with your face- and your cunt throbs at the fact that his nine, massive inches looked incredible up so closely.
So sensually rubbinâ his girthy hilt up and down the corner of your mouth. Just teasing.
Up and down. Up and down. Up and downâ
âShouldnât be saying these dirty things with such a s-sweet mouth, yâknow?â Nanami tuts, merely lining the edge of your lips with a gloss of your pre. He was so hot and syrupyâpractically melting against where your tongue was darting out to try nâ taste him even more. âShould control yourself- what if- fuck.â
âMmmââ Moaning, youâre managing to press his rotund tip against the middle of your tongue once more, starting to suck.
âWhat if you say those things and- oh, youâre too loud, hm?â He prattles away still, mouth working overtime whilst you stuffed yours. And yetâŠand yet even disciplined Nanami Kento couldnât stop himself from bucking off of his cushiony chair, âWhat if- haaaah, if youâre too loud and the boys hear-â
âMommaâ! Papaâ!â
KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCKâ!
Nanami groans, â-us.â
Ah, wellâŠyouâre removing yourself from Nanamiâs still-twitching cock. Red-hot. Rock-hard.Â
He was so needy that just wrenching yourself off with a wettened plop! makes Nanamiâs hips chase the soft insides of your mouth, a translucent wad of precum spraying out of him instantly.
And as he looks down at you with a dismal face, youâre managing out a smile. âIâll go see what it is.â And Nanami Kento thinks that he might as well pass out before any ânext timeâ- because youâre pressing a chaste peck to his mushroom tip, and pulling his shorts up. âNext time, Kento.â
Nanami puts his face in his hands and lightly groans.
With a huffed giggle, youâre sauntering your way out of the office - knowing damn well just how intensely his eyes were locked on the sway of your hips. The way your thighs were more clenched than before.
âAlright-â Unlocking the firmly-shut door (thank goodness for Nanamiâs foresight), youâre met with the tear-stained face of your oldest son. Snot-faced and bawling.Â
Your brows raise right up to your hairline as you take in the vision of your usually-calm Choso, turning your sights to his (only slightly tear-stained) younger brother beside him. Yuji, who hurries to explain what his brother couldnât- âI wanted bubbaâs comics but bubba wanted bubbaâs comics, so then we got into a- um, ahâŠâ Slightly squirming underneath your stare, your boys knew you hated when they fought. â-scuffle, and then I got bruised.â
He raises a chubby hand up, and you can easily spot the faint blue-ish mark on his forearm.
Yuji looks at Choso, âBut bubbaâs the one crying.â
And that was being generous, Choso was all but choking on his sobs. Taking one look at the bruise you were appraising - the place where heâd either directly or indirectly hurt his little brother - and bursting into peels of cries all over again. âIâm so- so- sor- wahhhhââ
âAaaaalrighty then-â You hasten to pick up your oldest boy, with slight exertion due to his size. Though when you finally do succeed in hoisting him onto your hip, he wraps his arms around your neck and buries his wet face into it. âNow, how about we go downstairs and make ourselves a cup of hot chocolate, hm?â It seems to calm Choso down a bit. âMaybe we can even watch a movie- a movie night?â
âYippeeeeââ Yuji squeals, arms raised as if he wanted to be carried, too. âMe as well?â
âAll of us.â Comes a deep voice, and Nanamiâs finally making his way out of the office. Having calmed himself down, he carries his younger son and places an innocent peck on your temple.
Choso gags, âBleh!â Whilst Yuji only giggles - and despite the slight embarrassment coursing through your body at your husbandâs obvious loving gesture, you were glad to have Choso express anything other than sadness.
Youâre starting to walk as a family, âNow, whoâs up for some Kpop Demon Hunters?â
âMeeeeeâ!â
.
.
.
T-minus 1 day until the long weekend.
âFuck-â
âKento-â
âFuck, just a bit-â Heâs hotly whispering into your shoulder, blond strands tickling your skin once Nanamiâs jerking his hips back and rutting them into yours. You could feel his thick, throbbing erection against the globes of your ass cheeks - so hard by now that you could count every throb.
Ba-dump.
Ba-dump.
Ba-dump-
And with every furious pulsation, heâs jerking his pelvis forwards- almost thrusting. Dry humping you like an animal in heat. âJust- just a little bit.â So rough that the sheer force leaves you bending even deeper against the dining table, and Nanami has to loop his greedy hands underneath your body nâ jerk you backwards. Push. Pull. âJust want to feel you a little bit- haaah- my love.â
âYouâre being so- oh.â Even though you both still had your clothes on, Nanamiâs pryinâ aside those flimsy panties of yours to let his bulge smear against your naked cunt. â-so insatiable, Kento.â
And with a few more vulgar strokes, heâs finally answering. âCouldnât stop thinking of you all day- no, all week, darlinâ. Iâve been running into that damned office bathroom to fuck my fist like some- ngh, fuckinâ teenager all week now.âÂ
âOh, Kenââ With a mewl, youâre grinding your hips backwards- but the friction just wasnât enough.
Just wasnât the feeling of his incredible cock splitting apart your insides, and the way that you knew he could fill out your every orifice so perfectly leaves you wanting more, more, more. So without thinking much - without thinking at all, really - youâre whipping your body back around.
Nanami grunts at the loss of contact with your drippinâ wet core- only for a brief moment before he realizes what youâre really trying to do. And the blond-haired man eagerly leans his hips forwards when you start to fuss with the buttons nâ zippers on his trousers.
âShit-â Impatient, you thrust your hand directly down his pants, and Nanami throws his head back with a sultry shiver at the feeling of your ravenous palm.Â
Accurately cupping his swollen erection, you feel him splurge out a slimy wad of pre at the mere touch. Just so sensitive. âWeâre gonna hafta to be quick.â Youâre murmuring, back to fiddling with his buttons. Pop! Pop! âBefore they come back-â
SLAM!
âMomma, whatâs for dinner?â
Pop!
The last of Nanamiâs buttons are torn open- right before theyâre forced back shut at the sound of your sons entering the home. Itâs a team effort by the both of you, and youâre just barely putting your rumpled clothes back in place, making sure anything was covered, ready to act like everything was normal before-
âOh, shit.â Your eyes drop back down to the place between your husbandâs legs.Â
His erection had softened by now, and there was absolutely nothing out of the ordinaryâŠexcept for the massive stain of syrupy slick thatâd been left by your grinding, gyrating cunt. It darkens the beige fabric of Nanamiâs trousers like a puddle, glistening in the yellowish yolky lighting of the kitchen. Your hands are on him immediately - though, not like earlier. âShit, Kento, youâre going to have to go-â
âGo?â Nanami balks, but he doesnât resist when you start pushing him out of the second entrance to the kitchen. âGo where?â
The house youâd chosen for your family was one of those large, more open plans; and the kitchen itself had one entrance for those who accessed the house by normal means, and then one more entrance that opened up to the bottom of the houseâs staircase. Ones that you lead him up the first few steps of, âGo change those pants!â You squawk. âI tell them that youâre- I donât know, showering, or something!â
âGood thinking, my love.â He chuckles, clearly finding amusement in your panicked charge. With his palms raised in surrender, heâs making his way up- though, not before landing a peck on your forehead once more.
âNow!â
âAye aye, my madam.â
Nanami (and his stained trousers) just barely makes it out of the kitchen before the boys walk into the kitchen, mud-stained and slightly out of breath still.
âCho!â Youâre admonishing before theyâre able to take their seats, âHow many times have I told you not to put your skateboard on the dining table? We eat there.â
âYes, momma.â The dark-haired boy recites, listening to what you were saying and placing it on the floor. As he kicks it out of the kitchen, he turns to you and asks- âWhereâs papa?â
Turning your back to your sons, youâre fussing over the dishes set on the kitchen counter now - what you were doing before youâd beenâŠinterrupted, that is. âPapa wanted to take a shower, it was getting a bit ah- hot in here.â
âThis time of year?â Choso raises a brow, but doesnât question it any further.
âAnyways-â You hasten to change the subject, â-why are you boys in so early today? Papa and I had just barely gotten started on dinner.â
And at this, Yuji jumps up in his seat- eyes sparkling as he slams his hands down on the table. âOh, momma, youâll never believe it. So Nobara said she had to go to some dentwistâs appointment and Megumi was feeling sick- so I went with bubbaâs friends but then we decided to do some exploring- and then there was also this ice cream truck thatââ
And so it went on. By the time that Yuji was done with his (condensed for your enjoyment, according to him) version of events, Nanami was back downstairs in a new pair of unstained trousers. The two of you quickly wrapped up dinner preparation, and used the boysâ help to set out the food.
In less than an hour or so, you were all seated around the rectangular table.
Nanami beside you, and your sons in front of you.
âSo-â And, to your surprise, heâs the one starting off the conversation. Dinner always was quite a lively event with the four of you, with either you or Yuji being the ones that dominated the nightly discussions most days.
But to have Nanami be the one to start off? It must be something quite importantâŠ
So you all turned towards him, excited to see what he had to say.
He gulps down a bite of rice, and continues. âRemember that starting tomorrow thereâs a long weekend, my loves. Monday is a holiday.â Nanami addresses all of you, in that soft tone that always makes you melt. Yuji cheers at the mention of such a thing- âItâs rare that we get a treat like this to be together, and I wanted to know what you all wanted to do on those days?â
âIâm fine with anything.â You hum, turning to Yuji and Choso.
âSomething fun.â Choso stares off into space ponderously, âMaybe like to the park? Or a resort?â
You nod, âFancy, I like it. And what about you Yuji?âÂ
And, dear little Yuji - whoâd been so patiently waiting for his turn to speak, who oh-so-sweetly hadnât wanted to speak over anyone else - simply just burst. âJoypolis!â He stands up on his seat, and you donât even have the heart to tell him to sit back down properly. Chanting, âJoypolis! Joypolis! I want to go to Joypolisââ
Chosoâs eyes light as well, excitedly- âOh- oh, can we?â Turning to face the two of you with pleading eyes.
And, of course, youâre turning to exchange a look with Nanami.
âOf course!â
Youâre humming thoughtfully, âAnd since itâs for a few days, Iâd heard of this really nice resort nearby that I think would be a nice place to stay at? We could make it a long stay for Saturday and Sunday, and come back on Monday morning.â
Expectedly, Yuji bursts into even more cheers.
âItâs settled then-â Nanami speaks over the cacophony of voices- and what was clearly not settled were the two boys, who were having trouble listening to your calls to not jerk the table lest they wanted to splash over the food. âKids, listen to your momma.â Until, finally, some semblance of silence broke throughââWeâre going to Joypolis.â
âYippeeeeeâ!â
âHell yeah-â
âCho, languageâŠâ
Nanami chuckles, about to say something more about the plans for the weekend when-Â
BZZZZZZZZZZZâ!
In your peripheral, you see Nanami reach into his pocket and pull out his phone. Clearly, you imagine, it must be something important for him to forgo (his own) rule about no devices during dinner time. And youâre watching on in slight curiosity-
âOh.â Nanamiâs mouth slightly parts, a somewhat surprised expression dazzling his face. The longer the phone call goes on, the more dazzled he grows. âOh?â
By then, even Choso and Yuji had quietened down. And youâre tugging on his elbow in slight concern, âSomething the matter, Kento?â
Heâs shaking his head, attention still on the call. âOh?â Perhaps unable to communicate anything more eloquent, whoever was on the other end of the line seemed to have said something that made one of his blond brows raise. And for his tongue to finally work, âHave the kids stay overnight?â
.
.
.
T-minus 0 days until the long weekend.
In other words: 9 hours and 17 minutes into the long weekend.
Also in other words: 9:17AM, Saturday.
According to what you, Yuji, and Choso had derived from your instant interrogation after Nanami had set down the phone- it seems that your mother-in-law had won a raffle just that day. The prize? Tickets to a two-night trip to the hot springs of Oita.Â
Three of them - and she claimed that she didnât want to spend the holiday with her friends who couldnât move as well as they were once able to. Might as well give the kids the time of their life, huh? There was much to see in Oita, and they were practically bouncing out of their seats once Nanami had announced the change in plans - neither had been upset about the postponement of Joypolis, either!
With their sheer excitement, the two of you had trouble setting them down for bed. And theyâd been jumping on yours like a trampoline before the clock had even hit five-
âAfter allââ Nanamiâs mother had crooned, her eyes wrinkling prettily at the ends as she smiled - Nanami had her eyes, and her smile. The very same dimple at the end of her lips, â-itâs a lot of work taking care of kids, isnât it? Oh, I was blessed to have one as sensible as Kento, but even thenâŠâ
âCertainly is.â Youâre chuckling, setting the boysâ luggage down inside her house - one lilâ Spiderman suitcase, and another that was just pitch-black in color (itâd been a long night sorting and packing).
Sheâs nodding her greying-blonde head, âItâs important that the two of you spend some time together, too. Canât forget that youâre lovers, as well as parents.â Looking towards your husband, who was firmly giving Choso instructions on how to keep him and his brother safe throughout all times of the trip.Â
You can feel your veins bubble up, and hope that the sinful evidence of these past few days donât show up in your expression. âTh-thatâs true, itâs quite important to have time for each other.â
âBesides- Iâm sure the children donât mind spending some time with their grandma, hm?â As Nanami finishes off his lecture, your two sons run towards their grandma and hug her tight- agreeing in tandem.Â
âI canât wait for the hot springs! Bubba says heâs going to teach me cool new swim tricks, grandma-â
âThat are within papaâs safety guidelines.â Choso gulps, feeling his fatherâs burning stare already. âAnd all end up with the both of us, as well as grandma, coming home to mama and papa safe and sound and perfectly alright. With no limbs missing and also no ugly souvenirs- only pretty ones, because momma deserves only the prettiest ones.â He recites, beaming back at Nanamiâs bemused expression.Â
Your husband stands next to you and shrugs at your deadpan gaze.Â
With delighted laughter, Nanamiâs mother looks up at the two of you. There was a somewhat knowing look in her eye- âYou two donât mind, do you?â
You glance at Nanami.
Nanami glances back.
You know youâre both thinking the same thing.
In unisonâ
âI-if you insist!â
.
.
.
10:08AM, Saturday.
A tender goodbye.
A hasty drive home.
A slam! of a door that youâre only later recognizing as your home door.
You could barely even remember anything before youâre suddenly back inside your home and turning to Nanami with a meaningful, âKent-â
His lips are on you instantly.
Teeth clawing.
Moaning.
Ravenous.
âFuck- shit, youâre soââ Youâre languidly gliding your hands down Nanamiâs front, feeling the way his ripped muscles ripple nâ flex through his thin shirt.
And Nanamiâs panting so hard that every scorching breath simmers against your face, and as you speak- your husbandâs gripping you easily by the back of the throat to re-slot your mouth over his. Unable to even speak past his crashing, open-mouthed kisses.Â
Youâre whining as you tug down on his cold belt buckle, âKento- mmpf, I want- fuck.â
And before you know it, youâre being pushed against the closest flat surface that Nanami Kento can find. Youâre being shoved against the wall. Youâre being pinned by the strength in his hips- grinding the raging hot erection already between his legs.
âHngh, fuck.â Youâre hearing him snarl in a ragged tone behind you, kissing your neck, your shoulder, down the length of your spine. âFuck- fuck- fuck- fuck.â Each one was faster than the last, smooch after smooch after smooch, and thereâs a dull thud! ringing out across the empty house when Nanamiâs knees finally hit the floor.
âOh my-â Shivering once his roughened fingertips latch onto your easy skirt nâ flips it upwards. Youâre left practically bare, with only your flimsy cotton panties on as he holds up your skirt and shoves his handsome face nose-deep between your folds.
From behind.
Letting the straight edge of his nose bridge plap against your cunt, your jaw drops once you feel your husband filthily breeeeeeathe inââFuh-fuck, darling.â
Your knees feel weak already, âKento, are we really just going to do this over here-â
âNo.â Comes Nanamiâs guttural mutter and ohâŠby the husky need in that tone, you already know that heâs far from sane. Already gone. âNo, not at all.â
âReally?â Brows slightly raising, you almost want to look back- when another one of Nanamiâs hands reach over and flip your restless body around. It doesnât take him much to manhandle you with his incredible strength.Â
Your back against the wall. Your glistening cunt facing his mouth.
Youâre still standing up. But one of your legs is being picked up and thrown over his broad shoulders, now youâre being held up with partially his support - mostly his support, you imagine.
And itâs with this position that he can take a goooood, long look at your pussy. Your puffy folds spreadinâ open. Your hole clenching around nothing. She was just so dripping wet with your honeyed sap, streaming right down your thighsââNo- donât you worry, darling.â He mutters, and you wonder just who heâs talking to - you or your pussy, right now.
âBecause-â Nanamiâs gusting out with his hot, sticky breath clinging to your cunt. And heâs leaning in closer, closer, so much closer. Until the curve of his attractive chin edges towards the end of your cunt, â-because mâgonna take you here.â
And then your body flinches with a shock of pleasure as he leans his plump lips in and presses a firm peck to the front of your pussylips.
Sloppy and wet.
âAnd on the dining room table-â Mwah! âAnd in my office-â Mwah! âThe kitchen-â Mwah! âAnd the- fuck, the bedroom-â Heâs snarling, dimpled lips curling as he sniffs your sweet folds once more. â-gonna take you all over the fuckinâ house-â
All those promises - he canât even finish them before your husband, Nanami, has his face stuffed between your pretty legs and his tongue lapping your cunt like a madman.
Darting to every slippery nook and crevice that his tastebuds can reach- first heâs sliding up nâ down your folds, lapping up the ounces of slick that spray out of you. âMmmmââ His head throws backwards- or, at least, it tries to. Before that dark, carnal part of Nanamiâs own self manages to stop himself, and his quavering hand guides one of yours to grab onto his blond scalp.
âRoughly.â Nanami gasps between your wet pussylips, his drool drenching it in a whole new layer of gluey liquid for him to taste.Â
Your mouth gapes, âYou want itâŠâ
The veins on his large hands pop out as he tightens your fist on his hair, âRoughly.â
Finally letting go of your smaller hands, Nanamiâs then holding onto both sides of your waist- practically glued. Pushing and pinning you back down against the cold wall when his tongue slithers out.
So loooooong and lucious, heâs tingling your tastebuds over your swollen clit. âMmm- mmpf-â Gurgling, gulping, swallowing the cloying wads of syrup that dripped to the back of his throat and alllll over the lower half of his face.
Heâs grunting, âSo sweet so- fucking- fuck- sweet.â You could feel your husbandâs wet lips flapping away at your nub, before theyâre finally parting and plunging between your pussylips like he was possessed. âNever gonna get used to this. This pussy- sheâs the- hah, sweetest thing Iâve ever fuckinâ tasted- and I think I might just be addicted-â
âShit- ngh.â Youâre clawing at his sweaty scalp for dear life, because Nanami Kento was usually such a gentle lover. Usually so smooth. So slow. But nowâŠâOh my god- I donât even want to ask whatâs gotten into you today- fuck.â
It takes him a few vulgar strikes with his tongue to even think of responding- to even formulate a coherent enough answer.
And itâs only with a sloppy mwah! that heâs bringing himself to part with your dewy cunt, just the most lecherous damp noise ringing out in the air. When Nanami speaks out, itâs with his ribbons of saliva departing into your quivering hole. âCan you fucking blame me?â
Oh. Your eyes widen, âYou- you really are-â Fuck, but his sloppy tastebuds are back to drilling into your entrance. His scratchy tastebuds plaster against the roof of your cunt, back nâ forth. âYou really are pussydrunk? But the thing is- already?â
Itâs easier for Nanami to detach himself from your damp pussy- with his two thumbs swervinâ down, heâs smearing apart your folds and spitting straight inside your hole once more. âCan- you- fucking- blame- me-â
It wasnât even a question, and his lengthy tongue probes between your folds after each word. Slipping straight into your deepest depths, with the curvaceous tip of his muscle sticking in, in, in.
Again and again.
Preeeeeeessing into every depth, âCan you fucking imagine what Iâve been going through these- hah, these past days without you?â
âN-no?â His carnal strokes make you throw your head back with a whine, tears starting to bead behind your eyelids. âWhat have you been- fuck, youâre going in so deep, Kento.â
Though Nanami doesnât even seem to hear you- âHow can you blame me-â Like a mantra, heâs muttering between those swollen pussylips of yours, eating you out so raw that even the slightest movements of his lips make you see stars. âHow can you blame me- hah, how can you blame me, how can you blame meângh.â The flatness of his sizzlinâ tastebuds moves back and forth into the roof of your cunt, making itself well at home there. âNot when I havenât had dessert for a week now-â
âHavenât had dessert?â Youâre questioning, your senses slightly hazed by his ministrations between your legs. Is that what heâs been talking about going through? âWhat do you mean, baby, just last night for dinner we had-â
âNo.â He says, meaningfully. And Nanami looks up at you straight in the eyes when heâs spreadinâ that wet muscle of his wiiiide open and probinâ into your hole- âI meanâŠdessert.â
Your back arches off of the wall, a perfect curvature. âDessert-â
Your pussy.Â
Your mewling whines are cut off by the feeling of him pulling out of your cunt with a wet plunge, strings of your slick following his movements nâ still connecting his mouth to your core. There was something crazed in Nanamiâs hazy peripherals, something utterly gone. âYes.â He spits for the nth time into your cunt, swervinâ right past your folds. Pinning you down whilst you try to run, âDonât you fucking run- donât you fucking know that sheâs my favorite dessert, darlinâ?â
And then you sob. With a loud, primal sluuuuurpâNanamiâs splittinâ you apart from the inside.
âAnd Iâve been without her for too long, my wife.â Perfectly molding your channel to him, the cushy tips of his fingers open your entrance up- and oh, heâs digging them deeeeply into your tiniest orifices. Scissoring in a second finger as if it already wasnât enough to have his thick joints pushing your insides apart. âHow can a husband be expected to go so long without his wifeâs pretty pussy?â Gently nibblinâ on your clit, âIâve missed her.â
âIâve missed this mouth of yours.â You donât think youâll ever get used to just how big his size was, the blustering crowns of his two fingerpads opening up your insides. He filled up every cranny- âFuck, keep going.â
âYou have no idea how- hahhhââ Nanami emits a breathy laugh, like he was in utter disbelief at his own self. And you watch as your husbandâs jaw hangs open to collect the glittery wads of slick that constantly leak out of you, â-how fucking thirsty Iâve been. I would eat the sweetest sundaes after work- remember the ones I bought for us? Fuck, just imagining that was you.â
Youâre shivering at his admission- heâd what?
But Nanami wasnât done yet - in fact, he was only lapping away his tongue even harder. And when you get used to the caress of his velvety underside, heâs spanking it down on your clit. âJust wishing that was you on my tongue- but nothing would even come as close.â He gasps, âSo now that I have you, oh, I could drink from this pretty pussy for aaaaages with how parched I am.â
Youâre tugging at his hair, and Nanami only directs you to pull at him even rougher. To use him. Teasing, âAnd here I thought that large water tumbler of yours was enough-â
âOh, my love, itâs not even close to enough- look at this-â Youâre being guided to look down at the ropes of sap that he was tunneling out of you- chin hitting your chest. After each movement of his fingers, your slick glazes his wrist in splats.Â
Sensually, heâs ducking his head down to lick off the polish on his skin. Gleaming like glitter, Nanami moans when the candied taste hits his tongue- âYouâre like a fucking waterpark fâme. And Iâve- hah, Iâve been dreaming about her for ages now. Been hungry. Been imagining-â
Lapping and probinâ. A third crowned tip rovers inside and starts pushing in and out with the others, âYes- yes yes yes yes-â
âIâve had to run to the fucking- ngh, office bathroom more times than I can count.â He admits, spittling between your lips. âAll because I spent a whole meeting imagining just how wet youâd feel on my tongue, mmm, like this.âÂ
Youâre crying out, bucking your hips into his- and though he mightâve usually pinned your squirming hips down for moving, teasing, nowâŠnow Nanami was welcoming those half-ruts. âMore- deeper-â
âAnd look how eeeeeasy I can slip in-â With a final cobweb of saliva, heâs trying to pry inside a fourth fingerâmanaging.Â
Nanamiâs prolonged length empties out right near your cervix with harsh thuds, you could tell that he was searching for that sweet spot inside you.Â
Babbling away, Nanami seemed to be getting even more drunk on your pussy with each passing second. âWanted to feel you dripping like this- aaaaaall up in my throat- see- watch.â Your husband commands, and with your head turned down like this you canât help but watch the way he takes a big swallow of your slick. With a messy glistening face, he grins up at you. âIf you could possibly be any- ngh, any fuckinâ wetter then Iâd want you to in a second.â
âI donât think Iâve ever been wetter in my life, Kento.â As if to prove your point, even more tear trails of your slick drip down - all for Nanami Kentoâs munching delight, of course.
ââŠYet.â
And you know one quality that attracted you to your husband the most? It was the fact that, no matter what, he would do what he promised. He would deliver.
Because with a few more sultry slams, his long index is burrowing into your g-spot. Perfectly. Itâs as if that bundle of nerves was a target, and Nanamiâs able to slide his trimmed nails right where you wanted him to.
Your knees bend limply as the pleasure hits you, and you wail. âOh- there!â Too gone in your own bliss, heâs actually holding up your weight with one of his strong arms now, looped at your waist.
âFound it.â You can feel his grin against your entrance, âAnd you did get wetter, my loveââ
And heâd found it, alright. Constantly thump-thump-thumpinâ away near the back of your pussy with his relentless fingers, Nanami made sure that the plush pads of his digits would then graze your nerves- making you twitch nâ whine nâ buck in pleasure maddeningly.
âI- I donât think-â With one of your legs raised upon his shoulders, it was just so easy to squeeze Nanamiâs bobbing throat. Almost suffocating him. You blurt, âI donât think mâgonna last long, Kento-â
âGood.â
The firmness with which he says that one word makes your entire body quiver- and you donât know whether itâs because of his purely carnal tone, or the way he slithers his fingers inside your cunt, presses down on your g-spot and holds it there.
Unmoving.
No matter how much you squirm or whine.
And Nanami doesnât waste a single second before heâs immediately trying to topple you over the edge of your high, âBecause you donât have to.â He pants, âYour dear husband is here for a- hah, a reason, my wife. Donât you know?â
âA- a reason.â Youâre babbling, and you donât know which one of you is more gone by this point.
Youâre having trouble holding yourself up, and Nanami claps his chin against the end of your cunt with enough pressure to keep you standing straight. His tongue teasingly rolling out over your clit, âMâhere to make you cum.â Push after push, thud! after thud! âBecause donât you knowâŠâ
âDonât I know- fuck, donât I know what?â
His grin is just sinfulââDonât you know that you taste sweeter when you cum, my love?â Said in such a tender tone, even though the slashes of his fingers were anything but.
In next to no time, youâre gripping one hand into Nanamiâs hair and the other onto his shoulders as you cum all over his mouth. Itâs in invisible waves ridden straight from the tip of his nose nâ down to lacquer his chin with gleam, âC-cumming.â Even though he already knew, âMâcumming, Kento. Cum- fuck, sâthe best Iâve ever had.â
âMmm, why thank you, darling.â Heâs crooning out lovingly, not even a hint of teasing as he takes it on. All your pushes and bucks- until the skin âround Nanamiâs mouth was red and raw.
Until his jaw aaaaaached.
And yet, heâs still eating you out through your high, the sparks of bliss absolutely leave you shaking. Toes curled. The top of your crown feeling light and airy- âThink youâve fucked me- nghâŠâ Stupid. Even though you donât say it out loudâŠat least, you donât think you do.
But Nanami puffs out a slightly drunken giggle between your pussylips as he hears that word leave your mouth - without you even knowing. Realizing. Dutifully, your husband doesnât tease you as he plunges his tongue in nâ out, in nâ out. âCâmon- câmon, câmon- oh. I was right, you do taste so sweet.â
Youâre whimpering as he pulls his fingers out, feeling your convulsing shockwaves peter out into almost nothing.
And even then, Nanami rolls his thick thumb over your clit a few times- just to watch you shake and whine prettily above him. âDone cumming?â He asks, once he feels your body go slightly wobbly. And when you nod- âBut I really do wonder if youâd taste even sweeter if I overstim you a little, darlingâŠâ
âOh my god-â Your chin drenches with the spittle that falls out of you unbeknownst to your subconscious, just so sensitive that theyâre about the same as the tears dripping from your eyes. âI donât know if I even can cum so soon again, Kento.â
âWeâll never know until we try.â
Heâs tracing squelching wetâhearts?
It feels even more teasing than usual when Nanamiâs fingers are toying with your clit, because right now heâs drawing the cutest patterns to watch you react. The way you flinch even more when he draws a big heart- and that cute hitch in your breath when itâs a little one.
âSo cuteâŠâ Nanami groans, fingers nothing but a blur on your cunt. Spreadinâ you wide open, you canât believe that your husband then has the audacity to bear his canines and gnaw down on your puffy pussylips. âSo sweet-â
âKento-â You bawl, the pleasure making your senses all bleary. âK-Kento-â
âOho?â Those blond brows of his raise in interest, and through your tears you can make out the pinkish outline of his tongue coming out to taste his slick-glossed lips. Purring, âIt tastes like youâre going to cum again, my love.â
And thatâs exactly what you do.
Hard and fast. This one takes you by surprise, just a surge of white-hot electricity that shoots up your spine and leaves your thoughts all muddled.
And, just like before, heâs dragging you through it incredibly. Through every peak of euphoria. Through every flash of bliss every time his slurpinâ tongue accidentally slipped past your entrance when he was sucking you dry.
âCum- fuck, Iâve alreadyâŠ.â Mouth dry. Body shaking. By the time that Nanamiâs lengthy tongue has finished lapping up every droplet of your slick, youâve felt thoroughly fucked through your orgasm. You honestly wouldnât even have been able to keep yourself standing had it not been for his unrelenting grip on you, refusing to let you fall.
You lean onto his support, feeling your joints protest at the long time youâd spent in this position. âKento, now I really donât know if I can cum any- hck! more.â
But Nanami Kento could read what you were saying without saying.
He knew you well enough.
And you knew he did.
Just because you didnât know doesnât mean he sure as hell wasnât allowed to try.
In an instant, your husbandâs pulling awayâmwah! All that sloppy slick that he wasnât able to swallow now drips all the way from the tops of his cheekbones, and all the way down his chin. Partly down his neck. Nanami then grips your hips with a loving, pussydrunken smile. âBut, when I have a wife that looks like you, my darling, how can I not make you cum?â
Oh.
11:57AM, Saturday.
âOh my g-godââ Your voice is cracking out in both sobs nâ whines, dribbling out saliva like slick as Nanamiâs rutting his naked hips against the globes of your ass cheeks.
Itâd taken your husband only a few minutes to manhandle you from the threshold of your house entrance down through the house. Having to hold you up where you were so overstimulated, heâd carried you princess-style. Where heâd pressed you face-down against the polished mahogany of your dining room table.Â
All fours. Ass up. Cunt dripping.
Youâd shivered as you heard Nanamiâs pants hit the floor- his belt ending up in a heap with the rest of it with a loud clang! of metal on tile. And he was simply oooozing out thick pre at the sight of you bent over for him like this, just smearinâ it down your pussylips so that it looked like a gloss. âMmmââ Nanami grunts out from behind you, his mouth watering at the hot feeling. âSo pretty like this, my wife- fuck, so pretty.â
And youâre clawing onto the wood - trying not to make too much of a mess (youâll have to disinfect this entire house, later) - as he just lightly smooooches your tight orifice with his mushroom tip. âSh-shit- youâre so hard, Kento.â
âMhmââ Nanami huffs out smugly- so drunk on his cock, you were craning your head over your shoulder to take a good look at him. âAdmiring your husband?â
âYes.â
In all his rock-hard glory. Nine entire inches.
Veins were zig-zagging down Nanamiâs shaft, and they end where his sparse golden hairs start to decorate his hilt. He was just aaaaching to enter you- plump tip colored the prettiest shade of pink, almost as if his painful cock was almost shy to meet your cunt.
You canât help but notice that it matched the blush creeping up on your husbandâs ears, as he leans down and purses his lips to spit straight down to your cunt. Hitting his target dead-on, Nanami grins- âI wonder why we havenât done it like this sooner, daring?â One of his hands attach to the side of your hips, and heâs just smearinâ apart your folds to take a good look inside. âBefore me I see the tastiest fucking dinner Iâve ever seen-â
âY-youâre so filthy, Kento.â You almost canât even believe your ears, and you arch your back into his touch. Hamstrings quivering when you nudge your hips up into his, âWhy donât you just f-fuck me already- oh.â
âAs you wish, my madam.â
Because heâs already entering you as you squeak out your demands - Nanami Kento was never a man that would leave his wife yearning and wanting, of course.
Anything you wanted, it was yours.
And the same went for his throbbing, hot cock- just the curved end of his shaft plops inside your elastic hole. Because of his sheer girth, Nanami doesnât even have to try to push apart your tight pussylips - youâre already opening up lewdly for him.
With a cracked whine, your snug channel is gobbling his inches up with a sluuuuurpâmaking the blond-haired man raise his brows with a chuckle. âOh- oh, my god.â He pants, breaths coming out ragged. âOhhhh fuck- youâve been needy, my wife.â
âIâve been- hah, been what?â Pathetically, you can only turn your face âround to meet his and take it- because Nanami wasnât letting you off easy just because he was rovering his thick cock inside.
NoâŠin fact, he was pounding and pounding his flared tip past your tender orifice- or, at least, he was trying to. Despite the slight resistance of your tightness, Nanami has one hand on your hips, dragging you back into him with each thrust. âFucking- needy-â
âNot as much as you.â Youâre protesting, feeling the wetness of his precum mix with your slick to travel downwards. âYouâve been the one eating me out like youâre addicted-â
âAnd youâre the one swallowing me down like youâre trying to suck me dry, my love.â Heâs bickering back gently, âOrâŠâ And there was a tinge of something in his carnal tone that makes you shiver, â-should I put all the blame on her instead?â
Her.
Your sultry, wet pussy.
The one he was probinâ his split-ended cock into. The one that was making him grunt after every one of your slight squeezes. The one that was so cozily tight that Nanami had to hold onto your hips and jerk you backwards to try and fit himself all inside.
Jerking and pulling.
Manhandling.
When he feels the tight shield of you still trying to get used to his sheer size, Nanami properly loops his arms âround your thighs. And then heâs fucking holding you up- your heels dangling off the tile, your body supported only by the dining table and your husband.
Your geysering cunt purely at the mercy of him, him, him.
âO-ohhhhh, this pussy.â As he sinks in, itâs so good that Nanami hunches his bulky body over - as if he was breaking apart on your hole. Properly in half, breaths heaving out. With every inch of his globular cockhead spearing inside, you can feel Nanami grow more and more feverish. âOh this pussy- oh, this- this pussy-â
Youâre moaning at his broken mantra, âNanami, are you fuck- alri-â
âThe first time in- in what feels like ages that mâgetting to fuck you the way Iâve been aching to.â Heâs spitting out - literally, back down your sultry slit to make you even wetter for him. And with that, Nanamiâs voice veers octaves higher. Crazed. âAnd you ask me whether mâfucking alright, darling?â
âWell Iâd say you were becoming- ngh, pussydrunk already.â Youâre whining out, staring into Nanamiâs eyes and ohâthey were so dilated.
You donât think youâve ever seen them this dilated.
They always were, whenever he was gazing at you. But to this extent? It seemed as if his entire iris had just turned back, and Nanami Kento was hanging on your every word, your every breath. Youâre whispering, âButâŠbut I think youâre even past that now.â
âP-pussydrunk?â He breathes out the word as if it was a joke- spits it out in almost distaste. Which was strangeâŠbecause it was honestly one of his favorites. âYou think Iâd be pussydrunk by now?â
Confused, âY-yes?â
Before youâre being shocked by a sudden burst from his hips, his meaty thighs striking the backs of yours until his skin there turns red. His blustering tip scrape-scrape-scrapes your insides carnally, and you can feel the line of his slit driving in even deeper.
âOh, honey- oh, my love- oh, my wifeâŠâ Nanamiâs droning on out, and if you were in any better state of mind then youâd have realized that the usually-eloquent Nanami Kento was slurring. Smack! Through your kaleidoscope of tears, youâre registering that the skin of his pelvis had just slammed into yours, a stinging impact.
Your husband pliably scoops you up, dragging your hips back down his shaft as if you were nothing but a ragdoll. Your gummy channel was being meshed apart for his upright erection, sliding down it slooooowly. Bit by bit. Inch by solid, throbbing inch. âDonât you know that- hah-â Until you were fully bottomed out, â-Iâve been pussydrunk aaaaall week?â
All week?
Your mouth opens - perhaps to question him, perhaps to counterpoint him - but the only thing that echoes out is a sensual whine as he then starts ramming into you at a sloppy cadence.
Sloppy and fast.
Hard.
Nanamiâs pulling all the way back till juuust the crown of his red tip kissed your entrance, then shoving back in until the hilt. Your orifice stretched all widely open âround his base, the spattering of curly golden hair tickling your folds. âDonât you know?â Your husband asks, âDidnât you know Iâve been- hngh, ruined on your pussy all week?â
âRuined?â You repeat, clawing onto the table for some semblance of stability. âBut we havenât even properly-â
âExactly.â
Oh.
He was now rutting into you like an animal, the curve of his luscious tip swabbinâ at your every ounce of space. âYou donât know how fucking greedy- how impatient Iâve- hah, Iâve been-â
And that surprised you, âImpatient?â Though, he was certainly fucking you like it. After every rugged bash of Nanamiâs cockhead, he was surging back in for more - barely even letting the springy recoil of your walls start before heâs plummeting back in.
Again and again.
A particularly hard thud! has you feeling him at the back of your throat, and your cheeks stain with a few lacquer of tears. âI almost canât believe that- oh-â
Heâs pinning down your squirming hips, and you can feel the line of Nanamiâs happy trail scritch-scratch your skin. âI am not a patient man, my wife.â He says, darkly. Holding you down whilst he fucks you like a madman- âI could barely hold myself back this entire week- could barely- haaah, you donât know how many times Iâve almost cracked nâ called off work just to be able to stay home and fuck this pussy stupid for a few hours.â
âAnd- and then?â Youâre hiccuping, feeling his slamming tempo get even faster. âThen what?â
âOh, youâre enjoying thisâlittle slut.â Pure shock sparks down your body at the words he was using - absolutely filthy. âLetâs see how much you like this then-â And before you know it, one of his hands lifts off of your waist to rover down to between your legs.
Nanamiâs rough index and thumb pinches your clit- âFuh-fuck! Kento!â
âWanted to do that for so long.â He watches with relish as you shake beneath him, âIf the boys werenât there- ngh, you have no idea how many times Iâve wanted to just reach over as you ate and pinch this cute clit. Just to tease. Just to see if youâd gasp.â
âPlease- please-â
Only toying with your sensitive nub even harder - no matter what, he was always such a rough player. âWanted to see if youâd scream my, mm, name like that.â Now alternating with his sensual drags of your clit, and rough rolls of his thumb flat. âIf this hole of yours would get even wetter becauseâfuuuck.â
And then the girth of his length starts snagginâ against your pussy walls, every ounce of blood in Nanamiâs body flowing to his cock and swelling it up even further.
â-because Iâd sure get harder when you do.â
Just as he said, he had.
Your head lolls stupidly in front of you- but of course, Nanami couldnât have that. So heâs using his free hand to help you rest your clammy scalp back against his shoulder, so bent forwards that it wasnât much of a stretch, honestly.
Like any good husband, Nanami Kento wanted to gaze lovingly into your eyes will he fucked you deep.Â
âAaaand then thereâs this spot-â Plop! The raw vibrations start from where heâs bashing in your g-spot, set your teeth utterly on their edges. He angles his hips so that it digs a pretty bruise right there on your nerves, â-this spot that I looooove- nâ I know she loves me, too. Because sheâs- haah, squeezing me so tight- never wants to let me go-â
âRight there-â You cry out, as if that wasnât already obvious. âThere there there there- faster, Kento.â
Precisely, Nanamiâs smoochinâ away at your g-spot - with such incredible accuracy that your dazed mind starts to wonder whether he has some sort of superpower that lets him calculate the ratio. The speed of his hips- the vulgarity. Heâs viciously gnawing down on your ear as you try to buck, âJust how many times have I squeezed my c-cock like this, just imagining that it was you-â
âYou h-have?â
âMhmmm, and all those times Iâd fuckinâ salivate just imaginingââ Thereâs almost a pout in his voice, something so starkly cute whilst he tunneled into you savagely. âBut it never was quite the same.â
âI thought about you so much, too, Ken.â You admit, your thighs clenching together- which your husband easily swats away to start twisting your clit even harder. âWanted you to fuck me just like this-â
A sultry smile spreads across his lips, âOh yeah? And was it just like this?â
âMhmââ Youâre fervently nodding, âJust like this and I- alsoâŠâ And only at Nanamiâs reassuring look do you continue, ââŠyou also had your- hah, your leg up.â
âMy leg up?â Nanami asks, âLikeâŠthis?â
Thereâs a thud! and then a clutter once one of his meaty thighs rests up on the table, capped knee coming to rest where your peripheral vision could see. This change in angle made him just enter his round cockhead into completely deeper parts of your womb.Â
Swirlinâ around your gummy walls, just pushing his bawling divot into spots you didnât even know existed. Again. And again. And again and again and againâ
âAnd you know what I was fantasizing about?â Heâs panting out in scorched waves, hips leaving a fever pitch.Â
âWh-what?â
âOhhh, you knowâŠjust like this-â You could hear the grin in his voice, â-fucking you rough. Fucking you hard, feeling your hot pussy for the first time in- hck! ages. Iâd been missing her so much, taking her so much. My favorite lilâ meal- oh, I really want to taste you right nowâŠâ
Arching your back into his glissading abs, âKento, donât stop. I feel like Iâm about to-â Cutting yourself off with a breathy intake of air when heâs drawinâ hearts on your pulsating nub.
âOhoâ? Then perhaps I should go on- I was thinking of you exactly like- ngh, this, my love. Except for one key differenceâŠâ
âAnd that is?â
To answer your question, Nanami gets up reeeeal close in your ear- he glides his hot lips down the side of your face, letting his breath send shivers skittering down your spine. âItâs that not only was I fucking you rough, darling, I was fucking you with the intention of getting you pregnant-â
And then itâs white-Â
And youâre cumming.
Surging even harder than any of your ones before, your heartbeat thumps in your ears like a war drum. Body at the mercy of your husband, Nanami Kento, as he bucks and bucks and bucks you through the perfect peaks of your high. Until, ultimatelyâŠ
âF-fuck.â Even with your popped eardrums, you manage to catch the way that Nanamiâs voice breaks as he swears his surrender. The drivelling circle at the end of his cockhead suddenly bursting into his own high- âFuck, exactly like this-â
Hunching over. Pinning you to the bed.
Heâs shoving his leaking cock deep into the goopy crevices of your pussy, letting you flood up with each miry line of his cum. âExactly like this- just like this-â Nanamiâs groaning out, webbing up your sweet insides with his orgasm. âThis entire week I imagined pinning you down like- thisââ
âOh, please.â Youâre blinking back the stars in your vision as one of his hands lets go to push down your hips. Wrestling you into stillness for a second-
âAnd then my cum- fuck, your pussyâs so hungry for my ngh, cum. Sheâs sucking it up like- th-thiiiiisââ Youâre feeling the exact moment that even more of his ivory syrup seeps out, trickling against the back of your cervix. Heâs fucking you through both of your highs almost aggressively, âAnd then- and thenâŠâ
âAnd then?â
âOh, honeyââ Nanami grins, like he knew something you didnât. The hand pinning you down slowly scrapes down until it was plastered against your front, pushing down where a lilâ cumflation was threatening to start. A little bulge. In many ways. â-then youâd be pregnant, is what.â
3:01PM, Saturday.
It was only a few more rounds and a hasty lunch later that Nanami had cornered you again (or perhaps you had cornered him, it was hard to say with just how ravenous the two of you actually were). Until, ultimately, you were perched atop the very kitchen counter that the two of you had made yourselves lunch in.Â
Your body draped across the frigid counter, your legs in the air.
Cunt directly in the line of sight of your husband, whoâd just been hankerinâ for something moreâŠsweet (and had rejected every other dessert option until it came to this).
Nanamiâs looooong tongue was dipping in and out of your hole, gathering up all those creamy wads of cum that heâd stuffed in there just moments prior. As if he was forgetting his objective of getting you pregnant- and then starting all over again.Â
âMmmâmmpf.â Came his strangled moans, being completely crushed between your legs- and his two hands plastered upon either side of them as if trying to get them to tighten âround his neck even more. âWhat did I say about this being my favorite dessertâ?â
Slightly leaning back, you can see the full scope of the messes that you and Nanami have made of each other. Slick nâ white cum glued across his face, a sheen that his tastebuds dart out to lick every ounce of.Â
Dripping wet.
Plunging in and out.
Lavishing his mouth between your trembly, overstimulated legs for more, more, more. It was just so wet that it felt like you were melting underneath him, with all your excess staining down his throat now.Â
With a shiver, youâre clawing at Nanamiâs blond head and attempting to push him down- âAnd wh-what have I said about not talking with your mouth full?â
Unexpectedly (or perhaps not, you shouldnât be surprised by now), this doesnât deter Nanami a single bit. Doesnât make him falter a single shred.
In fact, heâs actually wracking with primal shivers, the lower half of his body that was obscured by the angle below rutsââOhhhh, love when you go all momma mode.â Heâs spitting between your pussylips, plastering those swollen lips of yours to his own. And just bubbling out in dewy wads every time heâs pokinâ his tongue inwards and swirling it all around, âCanât- hah, canât wait to make you a momma all over again. Canât wait to fuck a baby into ya, my darling. All round and glowing and- and mineâŠâ
Faster and faster. Youâre wondering just how it was possible for Nanami to talk with his mouth all full, and his tongue working overtime to reach for the hidden spots deepest inside you. âAnd how will you do that when youâre- ngh, greedy for every drop ofâŠâ
He looks up with a darkly amused glint, âDrop of what, my love?â
âDrop of- of cum.â Youâre finally managing to shrill out, and you think it may have something to do with the fact that Nanami had finally gulped down any and every bit of evidence of the mess heâd made of you. That glistening lacquer of creamy white not dotted his lips, and he was rovering his mouth over your clit and biting it now-
âDrop of cum, hmâ?â Nanami pretends to think, so seriously that it reminded you of the way heâd be when he was in the midst of some important business project. âOh, youâre right. I do need to fill you up with my cum before I can get you, ngh, pregnant.â
Youâre squirming, âI genuinely canât tell if youâre seriously that gone or not, Kento.â
âH-hehâŠâ
And it seems that that was all the answer youâre getting for that particular answer- as for the other demand of yours, Nanami doesnât quite answer it until youâre cumming âround his mouth all over again.
He licks up the tenderest spots of your insides until you feel yourself tipping over the edge - by now, your orgasm was nothing more than a few tingles that ran from the pit of your belly nâ left you all numb.Â
All quivering.
You look down and realize, with a jolt, that heâd cleaned you off perfectly - and Nanami Kento always was great with aftercare, but this seemed to be something else entirely. Something filthy. And your cunt almost missed the hot splashes of cum that were once overspilling out of you.
Tears slick down your cheeks and - for the nth time that night - you muse that you canât possibly cum again, for at least a few weeks.
âOh yes, you can.â He answersâoh, youâd said that out loud. Fuck. âAnd you will-â Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. With a final few slurping smooches, Nanami wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and gets up from his place kneeled on the kitchen floor. And you can already see that his dick is rock-fucking-hard-
âAfter all, I have to fill you all over again, donât I?â
7:18PM, Saturday.
You havenât even had dinner yet.
You havenât even had dinner yet - but Nanami Kento was making sure that you were stuffed.
Like the cutest of lollipops, looooong and hard. His blushinâ cockhead was licked pink at the very tip, dribbling out in wads of precum that leave your tongue feeling all sticky. He pinpoints the salty taste of it right against the back of your throat, and you whineâ
âSh-shoooo- mmpf.â You manage to gurgle out, and by the way that heâs swabbing every inch of your maw with his length- it doesnât take a genius to figure out that you were claiming he was âsoooo bigâ.
But Nanami wanted to tease you a little bitâŠ
âWhat was hah! that, my love?â Heâs crooning, overlarge hand coming down where you were seated beneath his meaty thighs. They quiver every time the lavish muscle of your tongue traced his muscles, like that was all it took to leave your poor husband on the verge of breaking.
Oh, and how cute you looked with your angrily furrowed brows, mouth full of his cock, huffing nâ puffing at the question heâd just asked.Â
You were underneath his office desk by this point, and Nanamiâs leaning his body back in his chair to buck up ever-so-slightly inside you. Hushing at you all the while to relax your throat, âShhhâbreathe through your- ngh, nose, darling, breeeeathe. Breathe nâ try to repeat that sentence fâme?â
Youâre popping off of his flared mushroom tip with a wet pwah! âBut whyâ? I said youâre so-â
âI want you to say it with my cock in your mouth, mâkay?â Nanami says in that stern tone of his. And youâre letting his massive palm cradle the back of your throat to get you moving your maw over his length once more, nuzzling the curly hairs of his happy trail.
Youâre breathing in his musky masculine scent, âJust so mean.â Pouting, and your dear husband already knows that heâs won.
That when you perk your head up, heâll be guiding his flushed tip to tap-tap-tap against your puckered lips. Your mouth was just so raw from so many kisses that you wince at the stinging sensation, your spit drivelling down both sides of your face.
âI said- hck!â Cut off right as Nanami plugs your dewy mouth hole with his cock, plunging iiiiinââThat youâre so- mmmpfââ
Intentionally, whenever it showed even the slightest signs that you may be emitting any coherent sentences, Nanami would buck his mean hips. Until the toned lines of his pelvis massaged your jaw, heâs lodging his beading cock all the way against the back of your throat- and then has the audacity to coo. âAwww, why arenât you speaking, darling? I just looove your voice so much.â
âMmmpf-â You rake your nails down his milky thighs, leaving sinful marks for days. âHngh-â Slightly managing to find a bobbing pace that let you breath enough, âI said youâre so-â
âAaaand there we go ag-fuck, again.â Before you can finish your sentence, heâs then reaching over to pinch your two nostrils together. A mean smile twitching at one corner of his mouth as you struggle and claw your way down his thighs even more.
Head bobbing desperately, heâs finding that that cute jaw of yours unhinges even more when he restricted your air like this. InterestingâŠ
Finally - finally - letting go of your only form of breathing, Nanami lets you pull off of his throbbing red cock with a gasp. Lines of miry precum still connecting your mouth to his tip, chest heaving- âFuh-fuck, Kento. What I was saying was-â
âAnd how can you expect to teach our new baby all those phonetics if you canât even- ngh, string together a sentence yourself, my darling? No offense butâoh, fuck, that feels good.â He whispers, shutting you up with his girth once more.
Nanamiâs cock was just so wiiiide that he made your mouth create the cutest lilâ âohâ whenever he rammed himself right down to the base. Right. Down to. The. Base.Â
Your husband airily asks, âNowâŠwhat were you saying a-again?â
12:27AM, Sunday.
By this time, youâd finally reached the bedroom - though, only after Nanami had taken you on every single spot inside your shared home and saved your king-sized bed for best and for last.
You were practically running on fumes by this point, and could barely even hold up the messy mating press that heâd pressed you into. With his beefy arms tangled up with yours, his thighs pressed against the backs of yours, cock probing into you deeeeeeep.
You swear you could almost taste the salty sweetness of his cockhead at your throat, just oozing out in creamy white wads- almost as if cumming was a perpetual state that Nanami was in whenever he was inside you from now onwards.
Again and again and again-
âPlease!â Youâre wetly gasping out, head thrown back into pillows that were drenched with your tears by now. âPlease- I think itâs already t-taken by now, Kento-â
âTaken?â Nanami asks, almost in a daze. âTaken- you meanâŠâ
And then you watch - in real-time - as the blond-haired manâs mouth parts ever-so-slightly. As understanding washes over his face. As heâs once again swatting at the door to your womb, and you can feel it splosh! with the overspilling remnants of his ivory sap.Â
It trickles out of your overworked hole in a line of white, and Nanami languidly rovers his hand over to push back in those excess wads. He grins, âI almost forgot that we were s-supposed to get you pregnant, my darling.â You gawk as he continues, âTo be quite honest, Iâve just been- ngh, addicted to your cunt.â
âA-addicted-â
âCanât pull out.â He admits, slashing rude spanks into the back of your pussy with every hoarse syllable - youâre sure that you werenât too far behind, and that your voice would give out soon. âCanât even imagine it- canât even dream of it-âÂ
You squeal as a hand at your throat helps Nanami pull you back along to every one of his rugged thrusts, his plap-plap-plapping hips almost stinging against yours now.
âAll I want is her- all I need to feelââ Growing even rougher with his nudginâ at your cervix, you wonder whether you might just pass out and see the pearly gates at this rate. âAll I need to see- taste- smell- feelâh-hck! Oh, I can feel my cum swirlinâ around inside you- sâlike heaven.â
With a shiver, youâre feeling him splat! out a few more wads of ivory white cum, emptying out to add to the rest of the slicked mess heâd made. You might just be reaching your own high, as well, but with how far you were overstimulated- you couldnât even be sure at this point.
Gasps scorching as he says, âAnd it makes meâŠâ
Oh, you knew something was coming up when he started speaking like that.Â
âAnd- and it makes you?â You claw onto the dampened sheets- you might just have to change them soon, because something told you that you wonât be leaving this bedroom for a while.
âMakes me want toâŠdo it all over again.â
4:56AM, Sunday.
âGet pregnant-â Nanami grunts, furiously pumping his reddened, raw cock inside you. Absolutely furiously. âGet pregnant- get pregnant- get- get pregnantâŠâ
âI think- fuck, can feel itââ Youâre sobbing out, holding onto Nanami for dear life by this point.
You were right in assuming that neither of you would be leaving this very bedroom for a while, because itâs hours later and you hadnât gotten a wink of sleep - hours later and Nanami Kento was still trying to mold his thick, vein-covered cock to your walls. Still trying to get you pregnant as soon as possible.
Right now, actually.
Not even in a proper sex position by this point (youâd already tried everything there was to try), this was more of a sloppy prone bone. With your legs sprawled behind you, and Nanamiâs hulking body melting down into yours.
His abs gluing to your back, his thighs shivering from behind.
He could barely even hold himself up on overworked limbs, and Nanami was left collapsed on top of you. Pinning you down helplessly. Crushing you to his sculptured body, his sweaty abs mingled with your back as he pushes nâ probes nâ cumsââA-anotherâŠâ Nanami pants, and something wet hits the line of your spineâtears. Nanami Kento was crying overstimulated tears.
âGonna get you pregnant with th-this one- I can, haaah, feel it, my love.â His hand scours underneath your tummy, and you can feel him preeeeess into the spot of your womb where you were all filled up to the brim. âI just know it- I, fuck, just know this one left that pretty pussy oâ mine pregnant.â
âOf yours?â Youâre babbling away, feeling so full. Youâd only have done this for Nanami - for his ravenous urge to get you pregnant with your third child.Â
âMhmmm, of mine.â He answers, grinding so that his tender ballsack scrapes your puffy folds. âOf my lovely wife. Of the beautiful m-momma to by three beautiful children- fuck, just saying that made me cum again, my love, look at thatâŠheh.â
âI think mâclose toâŠâ Youâre babbling pathetically, not even sure if you could by now.
But Nanami was probinâ against that spot so perfectly still, and by now your nerves were so tender that every tiny graze sets your teeth on edge. Vision a kaleidoscope of tears- âKento, I think mâgonna-â
And before you can finish your sentence, youâre cumming.
Well, youâre not just cumming, to be quite honest.
Youâre squirting.
Thick, watery splashes of your high that leave your husbandâs sloppy staccato faltering for but a few seconds- as he takes in the constant gush of sap that was leaving you. Gush after gush. Directly following the peak after peak of your orgasm.
And what does Nanami do?
Well, other fuck you ferally through your squirtinâ high, that is? Heâs slithering a hand down to roll over your clit whilst you cum, making you whimper at the delicate feeling.
Intentionally, heâs drenching his skin all a gleaming sheen to- fuck, to bring up to his gluttonous maw and lick offâ
âSoâŠbaby names, my wife?â
.
.
.
1:26PM, Sunday.
You think you might have passed out some time after youâd squirted, and slept straight through until it was past noon. When youâd awoken, you discovered that youâd actually beenâŠcleaned off and tucked safely under the covers.Â
The bedsheets had been changed, too, with one of your favorite pillows fluffed underneath your head. Blankets raised high. Food on your bedside counter in case youâd woken up hungry. And your husband cuddled up beside you, waking up to your lethargic movements.
Of course, heâd taken you then, too.
Itâd been slooooow and sleepy this time- and you think that Nanami had barely even registered the fact that he was awake before his primal mind was immediately filled with the urge to impregnate, impregnate, impregnate.Â
A slight tear track lined down his handsome cheek and to his (thoroughly bitten) throat once he pressed his plummy cockhead inside- smiling at the whoosh of cum thatâd just splashed out of you. âHungry, my love?â
âNot that much-â Youâre answering, âSince we alreadyâŠâ Only- you realize that your husband wasnât looking at you at all.Â
He was looking atâŠ
A wet sluuuurp emanates once your entrance swallows his cock past your puffy pussylips, welcoming the lines of Nanamiâs veins back inside once more- oh, how the tiniest of crevices inside you had missed him already. âOh, you had been hungry.â He titters, almost to himself. âLook at you g-go-â
Youâre yelping as he bottoms out, âSo you were talking to-â
âOh? Whatâs that?â Knowingly, Nanamiâs cupping his ear to lean down and listen- the most lecherous of noises once he ruts in and out of your treacly cunt. In and out. In and out. In and out. âUh uh? Uhhh uhâoh, I see-â
With his devilish eyes, heâs turning towards you and you almost flinch at the look in them-
âShe says the babyâs hungry, my wife-â One of his hands ends up on your right tit, and Nanami brings your hardened nipple up to his mouth to suckâand, oh, the poor thing was sensitive? It made you thrash?Â
Worry not, because in a singular fluid motion, Nanamiâs reaching over towards the bedside table to grab one of his infamous silken work ties. Using it to tie your wrists up- âAt least, my babyâs hungry- for me to fuck a baby into her.â
Again.
5:44PM, Sunday.
Youâd had a brief call just before this with Choso and Yuji in Oita (with the video option carefully turned off on your side so that they wouldnât be able to see the state their parents were now in, all bitten, broken).Â
And right after- oh, right after, Nanami had all but pounced on you.
Maybe it had been the joy of seeing his sons again, maybe it had been the urgency of realizing that theyâd be home by this time tomorrow. Tomorrow morning itself.
But he had you bend like a lawn chair back into your favorite mating press position, your hamstrings screaming at you to slow down- and your husband doing anything but that. âPreg-pregnant-â Heâs whispering out brokenly, unable to manage anything above a rasp. âHave to get you pregnant- have to have everyone look at you and just know what I did-â
You feel his reddened tip twitch inside of you and you moan, âYes- yes yes yes yes, Kento-â His cum spurting out in sloppy streaks. âI want it all inside, I want a baby with you- ngh.â
âFuck, donât say that- sâjust gonna wanna make me go again.â He pleads with you, overstimulated lower lip wobbling at the feeling of your velvety, heart-shaped insides clenching âround him. âJust gonna make me- ngh.â
âFuck, Kento-â
âP-pregnantâŠâ He babbles onwards, âI get the f-feeling sâgonna be a girl, momma.â
8:45PM, Sunday.
After that, there were likely multiple more rounds that melted into one lustful haze in your mind. But the one round that you remember the most fondly out of that particular Sunday, was the one directly after Nanami had skipped dinner to go straight back into fucking you.
Your last round.
He was a crying, whimpering mess by this point - this large, towering hulk of a man that had been reduced to absolutely nothing on your pussy. You could clench and it would be enough to make your husband shed a few tears, his strawberry-red divot streaming out in pearly beads of cum. Allllll emptied out in the back of your pussy-
âI think-â Heâs gasping out towards the end, feeling your slimy walls contract with what might just be another one of your highs once more. âI think this oneâhnghhh.â
âOh my-â Youâre speechless-
Because Nanami only lazily probes his thick cock inside you, holding onto the front of your stomach- he presses doooown right where his mushroomy tip ended at, thudding deep into the front of your overspilling womb by now.Â
Drenched in his cum.
A white, hot mess because of him.
And with a carnal grunt of your name, Nanamiâs finishing out once more. With a few vulgar strokes of him swirlinâ aside the webs of sap already inside of you- youâre realizing that-
âFuckâŠâ Your maw drops agape, âDid you just- hngh, c-cum dry, Kento?â
âWhaââ Heâs hazily turning his eyes downwards, only now realizing that the end of his shaft hadnât burst out in creamy white like it always did these past two days. He had the faint sparks of electricity, all the twitchesâbut Nanami hadnât actually cum.
Youâd sucked him dry.
He was cumming dry.
The realization hits him hard enough that his breath hitches, âO-oh-â Tears glitter the ends of his molten stares, âYouâre right, my love, I did cum dry.â With his palm still plastered against your front, Nanami pulls you towards him - no position at all by now, just a tangled heap of limbs. âAnd you wanna- fuuuuck, donât squeeze me like that- you wanna know something else, too?â
Youâre cracking your teary lids open at him, âWhat?â
Only for your husband, Nanami Kento, to lean down and whisperââI think it really took this time, my wife.â
âOhâŠâ Youâre smiling up at him, your lids heavy. âThatâsâŠgoodâŠKento.â
And itâs the last thing you remember before youâre closing your eyes into a deep, deep slumber.
.
.
.
âOh, fuck-â Youâre shooting upright in your comfortable bed, which only seemed to wish to drag you back down onto its springy mattress with invisible arms. And it was tempting, you have to admit.
Very, very tempting.
If only sunlight hadnât been flowing with gusto even through your bedroom curtains, and birds and traffic werenât twittering in competition outside. It was one of those mornings when the world just seemed a little bit brighter- and with growing panic, youâre slamming your hand out to grab your phone off of the bedside table.
Muttering to yourself, âOh, fuck fuck fuck- fuck.â It hurt to even move your limbs out for this simple action, though that was the least of your worries right now. âIt seems so late- donât tell me I missed the pick up time for-â You tap on your phone screenâ
10:45AM, Monday.
(Public holiday)
âFuck, I did-â
3 missed messages from Hubby <3
âNo- wait.â
Hubby <3: I went to go pick up the kids, so donât worry, my love. Iâll also take care of breakfast so donât even think about it!
Hubby <3: You just get all the sleep you need. I love you.
Hubby <3: So, so much.
Youâre exhaling in relief, falling back against your pillows. Out of curiosity, youâre checking the timestamps on the messages that Nanami had sent, and find that it had actually been a fair amount of time before youâd awoken. So that meansâŠ
âPapa, whereâs momma?â
Ah, Yujiâs loudly curious voice emanates from downstairs - as well as the sweet, simmering smell of pancakes and syrup. Just hearing your sons so close by makes you excited to step downstairs (and you had to admit that the thought of breakfast made your stomach rumble, too)- and yet, you persist. If just to hear what excuse your husband might come up with.
Fuck, it hits you all at once - right along with the immensely satisfying fatigue in your body. The soreness. The bruises. The bites. Youâd just fucked like animals for two days.
âAhâŠâ Nanamiâs deep voice hesitates, âSheâs asleep, sunshine.â
âStill?â Choso pipes up this time, and you could almost imagine the way that his dark brows would knit together when he wanted to get to the bottom of a mystery. âThatâs odd, is she sick or something?â
âOr something.â
Yuji pouts, âWhatâs that mean, papa?â
âMommaâs just very ah- tired, you two know how hard she works.â He replies, and your heart soars as you listen to two little voices of agreement. âLetâs let her sleep, okay? And maybe if she isnât awake by the time we finish these pancakes- then you two can get mommaâs plate ready, and Iâll go upstairs to help her down, alright? We can surprise her with a fancy breakfast just for her!â
âYes, papaâ!â
âSounds good!â
You hear Nanami chuckle, âAnd make sure you plate quite a bit, kiddos, I have the feeling that mommaâs gonna have to eat for two very, very soon.â
âWhatâs that supposed to mean, papa?â
âHeh, thatâs a secret, sunshineâŠâ
A/N. Yâall were asking for thisssssss so ofc daddy has to deliver mwahahahaâŠ
âł Summary: It's your favorite day of the school year, and you've never met Yuji's father... until now.
âł WC: 4.2k
âł AN: my submission for @nanamiweek's Day 1 Papamin prompt! I had such a blast writing this one, I've truly missed my favorite blonde. Perhaps this has the makings for a little mini-collection of Nanami, kid Yuji, and teacher shenanigans.
âł Links: one | TWO |
Youâd been up to your eyeballs in glitter, paper cups, and rocket fuel caffeine since six oâclock sharp.Â
âThis is my mom!â one girl might yell, face luminous with excitement and star-struck eyes. âShe does peopleâs eyebrows.âÂ
Gasps all around. You would barely be able to keep a straight face.Â
The professions were almost always lost on your second-graders, their tongues tripping merrily over syllables like âchiropractorâ and âestheticianâ but it didnât matter. Their awe wasnât in the job. It was in the magic of presence. That Mom or Dad had stepped out of the nebulous, grown-up world to sit on tiny plastic chairs and drink juice boxes beside them â it made everything feel a little shinier.Â
You loved it, honestly. A soft, well-earned reprieve from math drills and shoelace catastrophes. It warmed you from the inside out to see the little duos in action â hands clasped, sneakers swinging under desks, pride glowing from every corner.Â
Most of the parents youâd met already â familiar faces from conferences and after-school sports games, or quick hellos in the pickup line. The day was as much about touching base with them as it was about stepping into the background and letting the kids run the show.Â
Except for one unfamiliar face paired to a brand new name.Â
Yuji Itadori was new this year. A mid-year transfer who had, miraculously, skipped all the usual hurdles and growing pains of social integration. No sulking in the corner, no anxiety-stricken tugs on your sleeve. The boy had walked in, grinned at you with gapped and missing teeth, and within forty-eight hours had more friends than you could count â probably even more than you had yourself.Â
You hadnât met his father. Radio silence on that front aside from slips and papers returned signed in neat calligraphy, and one brief, clipped phone call before Yujiâs first day. The mysterious Mr. Nanami remained just that: a mystery.
But Yuji wrote his own mythology.Â
According to him, his dad was very tall, very strong, very good at math, and â most importantly â the best dad in the world.
Youâd seen at least four crayon portraits of the man. A scribbled head of blonde hair. Always in a suit. Always holding Yujiâs hand. One even featured a big spotted paddle (sword?), though Yuji was quick to assure you that it wasnât real. Youâd raised a brow and let it slide. You were used to dads in superhero capes and interpretive renditions of fist-fighting monsters. This wasnât odd.Â
When the phone rang that night, youâd answered with the upbeat warmth you always offered new parents â a smile in your voice, ready to build that bridge. But Nanami Kento crossed it first.Â
His tone was even, no-nonsense. Not unfriendly, but certainly not one for pleasantries or menial small-talk.
He informed you, calmly and concisely, that his family was undergoing a period of adjustment.
That if Yuji struggled â academically, socially, or emotionally â you were to contact him immediately.
He thanked you. Briefly. And ended the call with a curt, âEnjoy the rest of your evening.âÂ
No mention of a mother.Â
None from Yuji, either.Â
Youâd read between and colored in enough lines in your career to understand that well enough.Â
And even in the brevity of those clean, clinical lines of his voice, you caught a glimpse of him â this man Yuji so obviously admired. Serious. Sharp. The kind of parent who showed up and cared, even if not always in person.Â
Still, you hadnât expected him to show up at all.Â
Not until his name appeared on the list for Bring Your Parent to School Day.Â
And certainly not with the kind of presence that would make you double-check the dress you wore that morning.
Youâd been welcoming parents for the last twenty-five minutes, and each one brought with them another blur of motion â squeaky sneakers pelting down the linoleum hallway, the slap of a hand against the doorframe, a gleeful shriek of your name. Youâd pop your head out with a wide smile, crouching low to greet each student like your own, your voice warm and sunflower-bright.Â
âGood morning!âÂ
A gentle pat on the back, and off theyâd go â nudged toward the long folding table piled high with boxed donuts, pastries, and room temperature juice boxes. Youâd done your best to make this morning a special one within your limited means.Â
The parents made for an even more eclectic bunch than their children. Some arrived in scrubs, others in hard hats, mud-streaked boots trailing across your clean rug (you winced, mentally tabbing another steam-clean rental).
One mother came in juggling mannequin heads. Another brought a stethoscope, which she graciously let the kids try on. And one father â clearly playing for keeps â arrived with a black lab from the fire station in tow. The dog wriggled and basked in the attention of twenty sticky-fingered admirers, tail a blur like an overdriven metronome.Â
You would definitely have to steam clean the rug.Â
There was always one family that stole the spotlight, and this year's frontrunner had all but cinched it with four paws and a lolling tongue. That was hardly fair play.Â
Still, as you subtly ushered parents toward the foam cups and coffee station, you couldnât help but notice one bright face conspicuously missing. Yuji Itadori wasnât exactly the type to blend in, and heâd never missed a day of school.
You frowned, glancing up at the wall clock just as the minute hand slipped neatly into place.Â
8:29.Â
Right on cue, the hallway outside your classroom erupted.Â
There was a screech â rubber soles skidding like brakes on blacktop â and then Yuji exploded into the room with the exuberance and subtlety of a category five hurricane, sending art projects fluttering and bulletin boards rattling in his wake. He collided into your legs and wrapped himself around them.Â
âTold you we were gonna be late!â he howled, already twisting to glare over his shoulder.Â
You barely had time to ruffle his hair before a second voice â measured, calm, and cut from a different cloth entirely â followed behind.Â
âAnd I told you we would be right on time.âÂ
The clock ticked. 8:30 on the dot.Â
âAnd we are.âÂ
The crisp click of dress shoes in long, confident strides heralded the arrival of a man youâd heard so much about, even if written in the strokes that belonged in something as fantastical as The Odyssey.Â
Brown leather shoes shined within an inch of their life, gleaming like mirrors beneath long legs dressed in tailored beige â an unusual suit color, but you decided not an unflattering one. It was immaculate. Pressed. And the faint creases at the elbows and knees were the only lifeline cast to save you from the broad chest and shoulders beneath his jacket, and his faceâÂ
What did Yuji say his dad did for work again�
You couldnât tell. He came empty-handed without props or costume, only deepening the mystery and leaving you to your own intrigued speculation.Â
A model, maybe. Editorial spreads. GQ. Gentlemanâs Digest, something. It had to be.Â
You were staring. You were still smiling and you were still staring, and at some point Yuji had un-velcroed himself from your legs and launched into a new tirade, tugging eagerly at his fathers hand.Â
âI wanna show you my art! And my favorite toys, and all my friends, andâoh! Nanamin, thereâs a dog!âÂ
Nanami whoâd been looking at you turned to his son and took a knee, and you witnessed a 3-second timelapse of glacial melting in the stern lines of his face. His eyes went soft and his mouth untensed into the suggestion of a smile.Â
âIâll look at everything in a moment,â he said, voice gentled for Yuji alone. âMay I speak with your teacher first?â
You nodded encouragingly, voice tugging itself back into your throat.Â
âWhy donât you grab some breakfast real quick, Yuji? Then weâll get started.âÂ
He peeled away, drawn to the scent of sugar like a moth to flame, and behind your back came the cacophony of reunion as if it had been years and not yesterday since his classmates had seen him last. You smiled as Nanami stood, the gentleness in his expression already evaporated. Not unkind, but compartmentalized.Â
His warmth was not meant for you. But rather than snubbed, you felt undeniably endeared by such uninhibited paternal adoration.Â
âYou must be Mr. Nanami,â you greeted amicably, a hand already outstretched to grasp his with a welcoming tilt of your head. He met your handshake with a firm grip, and you self-consciously tightened your own. âIâve heard a lot about you.âÂ
âAll good things, I hope.âÂ
His voice was low â husky with fatigue but smooth enough to suggest that this was just the way he always sounded. He looked tired. Moved like heâd made peace with it. You figured heâd just been designed that way â quiet, composed, and just slightly too serious for a room filled with googly eyes and glitter glue.Â
âOnly the best,â you assured with a smile.Â
There was a small pause. Not awkward â just considered.Â
âThank you,â he said at last. âYuji speaks about you often. Itâs clear he feels safe here.âÂ
It was rare to receive gratitude for your efforts with your students, and rarer still for it to be delivered with such conclusivity. Non-effusive, Nanamiâs appreciation was simply a fact, a fact which made it feel all the more sincere in its lack of grandiosity.Â
Your smile softened. âThat means a lot. Heâs a great kid, you must be really proud.âÂ
âI am.â
Just like that, it passed â his gaze shifted briefly behind you and his mouth twitched, a convection between an exasperated smile and down-turned fluster, already slipping past you. âYuji! Wash your hands before eating if youâre going to pet the dogââ
*
The morning began in earnest not long after you pressed a conciliatory coffee into Nanamiâs hands. Chairs shuffled and screeched into a half-circle and name tags were peeled from their sticker sheets and affixed to breast pockets, labels, scrubs, and sleeves. You ran a quick welcome with your own steaming espresso in hand (god knows you needed it) before handing the floor over to the parents.Â
Suddenly your second grade classroom was a parade of bladeless scalpels and stethoscopes, a menagerie of machinery and manicure sets. Laughter bloomed bright and uninhibited in the kids as each grown-up took their turn in the spotlight, answering questions as palatably as possible for their innocent audience.Â
You knew one mother was a cardiovascular surgeon, but in front of the class she simply said, âI help hearts feel better when theyâre sick,â folding a model valve between her fingers. The lawyer in the corner â slim briefcase at his feet, a heavy gavel making its rounds like a party favor â told them he made sure âbad guys went to jail.â No mention, of course, of the murder trial heâd wrapped up the week prior.Â
You encouraged questions, and your students â bless their lack of tact â took you at your word. The shy ones curled against a parentâs leg with owlish eyes, while the bolder kids launched a barrage of increasingly personal inquiries: Has anyone died? Have you ever been to jail? Has your dog ever peed in the fire truck? You did your best to redirect the worst of them, gently steering the conversation away from blood and bladder-related incidents.Â
And through it all, Nanami watched it unfold. Tucked into one of the red plastic chairs youâd borrowed from the snack table, he looked like he might snap the thing in half just by breathing too hard. His limbs folded into reluctant submission up toward his chest, tragically origamied, the entire chair tilting forward with each shift. Heâd finished his coffee by then and now quietly sipped on a comically tiny juice box.Â
Stone-faced, but not indifferent. His gaze tracked each speaker with judicial interest. And when the air grew too thick with awkward silence after a hesitant finish, it was Nanami who occasionally lifted one long arm to ask a polite question â enough to nudge things back into motion and, you suspected by the nature of some of his questions, simply to satisfy his own curiosity of the subject. You liked him for that.Â
âAlrightâŠ!â You clapped your hands. âYuji, why donât you send your dad up here next?âÂ
Yujiâs eyes blew wide, his mouth popping open in an exaggerated âOâ, then he swung at Nanamiâs arm, batting at him and tugging on his sleeves.
âGogogo!â he whisper-shouted.Â
Nanami looked up at you and you smiled. You spread your arm wide with a flourishing âthe floor is yoursâ gesture.Â
Nanami stood, unfolded himself and his ensemble with a smooth brush of his palms over the fabric. He stepped forward to take your place at the front of the room and you happily shifted aside, sitting upon the corner of your desk and crossing your ankles.Â
From where he stood, a paper caterpillar peered just over the top of his head with big wobbling eyes.Â
He straightened the cuffs of his jacket and adjusted his tie, pinching the pristine Windsor in his palm and hiking it up to his throat. He scanned the room, meeting eyes, chin down-tilted to examine his under four-foot tall crowd.Â
âI work in finance,â he began. âSpecifically, I manage assets and perform risk assessments on financial portfolios to ensure return on investment, primarily through domestic and international equities.âÂ
A long silence followed. One of the kids in the corner let out a tiny sniffle.Â
Unperturbed, Nanami pressed on. âWhat that means is I analyze companies and determine whether it is strategically sound to invest money in their future operations. I also track market fluctuations and perform cost-benefit analysis on various classes of stock.â
You saw it happen in real time â the eyes of your students glazing over like the sticky donuts theyâd grubbed from the table. Even a few parents tilted their heads, bewilderment blooming in the stitch of their brows as though suddenly realizing theyâd forgotten something on the stove.
One girl leaned sideways to whisper to her mother, âIs he saying math?âÂ
Yuji was practically vibrating in his seat. Elbows on his scuffed knees, chin in both hands, he stared up at his father with the full, undiluted adoration of a boy watching his hero. Nanami couldâve explained the intricacies and importance of counting grains of rice and you were sure Yuji still wouldâve looked at him like heâd hung the stars himself.Â
If Nanami realized his audience was all but lost to him, he didnât seem to show it. Not when he turned around to face the white board to erase the cheerful doodles of the water cycle drawn by the meteorologist whoâd gone before him, nor when he uncapped a black marker and began sketching out a meticulous diagram â boxes and arrows, sloping trend lines in red and blue, neat little yen symbols penned with paradigm precision.Â
He spoke the whole while, low and steady, detailing the invisible scaffolding that held up the adult world: markets, investments, value over time. He laid out the bones of capitalism, and at points showed his true feelings toward the structure with how heâd slice and jab the marker to make particularly impassioned points. You got the impression this particular machine was one he raged against often.Â
âAnd that,â Nanami concluded, recapping the marker and adjusting his tie again, âis the basic structure of my work in a securities firm. Thank you.âÂ
Silence.Â
Yuji led the charge. Loud, earnest applause that rang out in sharp claps, his face split in a grin wide enough to rival the sun. A few other children joined in, more from peer pressure than understanding, while a mother near the back whispered to another nearby: âGod, heâs quite serious, isnât he?â To which the other nodded, âItâs kind of hot.âÂ
You had to agree.Â
You clapped along with them, encouraging the display until it naturally died down. âThank you, Mr. Nanami! That was⊠incredibly thorough!â You beamed, he looked at you sideways. âDoes anyone have any questions for Mr. Nanami?âÂ
You hadnât expected a single hand to raise⊠except maybe Yuji. But he instead whirled around in his seat, pleading with wide brown eyes and a trembling lip for any excuse to keep his dad at the center of attention. Because really, what would a bunch of second graders want to know about stock exchange or insider trading? But to your delight, one by one, tiny hands shot up like spring sprouts.Â
Nanami, too, looked taken aback. He gestured to a boy in the second row.
âDo you have a dog?âÂ
Nanami blinked. â⊠No.âÂ
There was a ripple of dissatisfaction at that. You saw him shift his weight to the opposite leg as he called on a young girl.Â
âAre you rich?âÂ
âDepends on how you define it,â he said.Â
âDo you go to the gym?âÂ
â⊠Yes.âÂ
âOhhh,â someone whispered, followed by a murmur of approval as if this, at last, was finally relevant information.Â
Then the questions poured in:Â
âCan you lift a car?âÂ
âDo you fight robbers?âÂ
âWhatâs the strongest thing youâve ever punched?âÂ
âCan you fight my dad?âÂ
Nanami blinked once. You watched him recalibrate his entire moral framework in real time.Â
âI donât make a habit of fighting peopleâs fathers,â he said.
âBut could you?â
That made the corners of his mouth twitch â enough that you could tell he was debating the ethics of indulging a six-year-oldâs thirst for chaos.Â
âI suppose if your father were endangering others, and all other options had been exhaustedââÂ
Helpfully, Yuji shouted: âHe could! I know he could!âÂ
You saw that boys father shrink in the back, a sickly sallow overtaking his face. He clearly didnât fancy his odds.Â
Nanami glanced at you like he was seeking diplomatic extraction. You gave him a bright, innocent smile and shrugged your shoulders. He shouldâve predicted this larger than life reputation set forth by his son with that statistical brain of his.Â
âTheyâre very engaged,â you whispered, and he gave you a look that could only be described as deeply disappointed.
Mercifully, after three more questions about whether he could punch through a wall, you finally stepped in with a laugh, clapping your hands to wrangle the brewing chaos. âOkay, okay! Letâs all thank Mr. Nanami for visiting and giving us a peek into his very responsible, very serious job.âÂ
The children groaned their disappointment, already half-convinced he must moonlight as a superhero, but they still chorused their thanks with sticky-fingered enthusiasm. By the end, there was a suspicious sparkle in Nanamiâs eye that made you think he may have liked the attention more than he let on.
*
By the time the final parent wrapped up and the dismissal bell rang, your kids and their short attention spans had all but forgotten about Nanami standing in the back of the room, arms crossed against a tall cabinet, clearly having forsaken his small seat.Â
You dismissed your class one by one, sent off with folders tucked, backpacks zipped, and final reminders about homework and forgotten lunch boxes as small groups filtered out of the door. The glitter remained in every corner of the room, as did the smell of bleach and acetone from an unfortunate and entirely predictable accident with the fire dog.Â
Yuji bounced over to collect his things, tugging at his fathers sleeve as they turned to go.Â
âYou forgot to tell them about the time you beat that cursedââÂ
Nanami coughed. ââBudget shortfall,â he said, the words surgically clipped in two.Â
Yuji frowned. âThatâs not what I was gonnaââÂ
âCursed budget shortfalls,â Nanami repeated. âThey can be quite aggressive.âÂ
Yuji pulled a face, eyes narrowed suspiciously and scampered off to barter holographic stickers by the cubbies. A friend had gotten a shiny tiger, which was decidedly much cooler than his dinosaur.Â
Nanami hovered by the door a respectful distance from you, his gaze drifting across the emptying classroom. A couple of rogue pencils lay belly-up beneath desks. Someone had left their water bottle weeping onto the reading rug. There was a half eaten donut hooked over the pot of your plant on the windowsill. It seemed he was just as interested in where his son spends his day as the students were in where the adults usually spent theirs.Â
You watched him quietly. There was something about Nanami Kento that drew you â nothing overt, not even that he had a nice face. But there was something so⊠artificial about his authenticity. He presented himself as a boring man, dressed in boring colors, with a boring job, and had a voice that could probably put you to sleep. The type that probably ate oatmeal for breakfast every day, and bland conbini meals on the train home every evening. Itâs like he was trying to be unassuming, to snag no second-glances.Â
Frankly, you thought that it was bullshit.Â
Your intuition was sharp. You knew when your students stole from each other, and could sniff out the culprit in record time. You knew when the dog had actually eaten someone's homework, or if theyâd just forgotten it at home. There was something more to Nanami, and you wouldâve picked at that thread if you had more time to do so⊠but curiosity would not kill the cat today.Â
But there would be other days.
âThank you for coming,â you said instead, a sly smile in the Cheshire curl of your lip. âYou made quite the impression.â Maybe more on you than on the kids.Â
âIâm not sure thatâs a compliment,â Nanami said.
âOh it is,â you beamed, gesturing to the boardroom-esque diagram still drawn on the whiteboard. âI think I may be teaching the next generation of stock brokers and market analysts here.âÂ
Nanami grimaced, turning his shoulder away to scrub a hand over his face. âIt was a cautionary tale,â he tsked. âThey should find something thatâs worth doing. Like meteorology. Or baking. Anything but office work. Teaching is a much more rewarding and worthwhile occupation.âÂ
There it was. The little glint of something more. A cautionary tale of slipping into monotony and tedium, suffering a daily slog with no end in sight, a mere cog in a machine that nobody would notice if it suddenly broke off the belt. Your students would notice your absence. Their parents too, if only because of the inconvenience. But who would notice Nanami, one man in a suit standing on a train full of other men in suits?Â
âWell⊠it made Yujiâs day,â you suggested, softened â not sharp â with conviction. âIn fact, heâs going to talk about this until summer break, I can already tell.âÂ
A preternatural stillness took the business-casual mannequin as he looked over at his son â all spiky pink hair, too-big puffer jacket, trading up his stickers with enough business savvy to make Nanami proud.Â
Eventually he sighed, heavy like heâd been holding it in all day as he adjusted the strap of his watch. âHe mentions you at home,â he said again.
You smiled, no less warmed by the repetition than you were the first time.
âHeâs a pleasure to have in class, honestly. Iâm really amazed by how well he settled, most kids struggle to acclimate butâŠâ you watched as Yuji hopped in a circle, one shoe on as he wrestled with the other. âNot him!âÂ
Nanami gave a small nod, his gaze still fixed outward but you reckoned his attention was much closer.Â
âApparently you give out gummy stars.âÂ
â⊠Only for exceptional behavior,â you said with a wide grin. âOr sometimes for being unusually charming.âÂ
That got you a glance â dry, inscrutable.Â
âThen I imagine heâs amassed quite the hoard⊠and I have you to blame for the frequent sugar highs.âÂ
You werenât not flirting with him. Subtle enough to fly over his head if he chose not to acknowledge it, and you had no intention of pushing your luck much further. It was a small miracle youâd met the man behind the mythos at all. But you couldnât resist a final parting shot.Â
You turned and stood on your toes, reaching for a wicker basket stashed high on a shelf, rifling through crinkly cellophane wrappers to procure one such gummy star. You held out your hand â and found yourself pleasantly surprised when Nanami reached out to accept it.Â
âFor exceptional behavior,â you declared. Or for being unusually charming.Â
He regarded the gummy with an expression you couldnât read, his mouth a neutral set frown that youâd noticed seemed to just be his default expression. He didnât speak, not until his fingers creaked closed around the treat and retreated into his pocket.Â
A win, you think. One glittering, citrus-sugar coated win.Â
âThank you.âÂ
You merely smiled, gracefully bowing out of the tentative curiosity youâd cast in his direction, just in time for Yuji to veer back towards you both.Â
You said your goodbyes and your âsee you next weekâs, then with one hand swinging Yujiâs backpack and the other resting steadily atop his head, the last of your stragglers stepped out into the sunny hallway.Â
à°ïž. Imagine being one of the women who got kidnapped by aliens wanting to experiment on you, staging a revolt, and crash-landing on a prehistoric hellscape. Now imagine a bunch of hot, feral men whoâve never seen a human woman before declaring you guys as their respective, fated mates. Yeah. Itâs that kind of story. Is it too late to go back to the alien scientists?
à°ïž. Chapter TWO - names and invitations
Synopsis: in which the tribe warned you of a storm and implored you to stay, with a catch. whilst debating it, you finally learn their names.
Warnings: swear words, threat of violence, killing animals, hunting, drowning attempt, allusions to SA, threat of breeding/pregnancies/babies, nudity, erections, predatory/barbaric behaviour, not proofread - do let me know if there are any typos (I'm sure there's a fair few TT)
Word Count: 12.3k
à°ïž. MASTERLIST
This morning they were taken back to the clearing, all but one of them clean and free from their bindings. Except, they werenât placed in the grass nor by the firepit; they were brought inside a huge tent made of patchwork leather and made to sit on beanbag-looking things.Â
Three of the aliens were missing from the meeting, leaving only Horns and Tails. All five women were accounted for, with their limbs intact and in place, and with most recounting an, all things considered, pleasant evening.Â
One of them â the bound one â however, was grumpy. Apparently, the alien that had taken her was not as eager to be in her presence as the others were with them. It took Horns stopping by later into the night for her to be fed, she claimed. And he would have freed her too, if her moody alien hadnât thrown a fit over the idea of her being able to freely walk about.
âHe hates you?â
âHate isnât even strong enough,â she grumbled. âI was scared to fall asleep in case he slit my throat or disemboweled me.â
Staring at Tails with a grimace, another butted in, âIâm kinda envious; mine tried cuddling me all last night. When I elbowed him off, he just made that clicking sound and told me to stop tickling him.â
âUgh, god, if I elbowed himâŠâ she muttered, considering it, and then made a face of utter horror, âI donât even wanna think about it.â Then, looking down at her wriggling fingers, she groaned. âCan they cut me out of this already? Itâs not fair you guys are free.â
The blond alien â Horns, with his curling antlers and mantle of fur â stepped forward, the soft rustle of his movements enough to gather the womenâs attention.Â
Conversation died; tension coiled again through the tent.Â
For all the curious comfort of their seats, for all the relative gentleness shown the previous night, these were still the beings who had stolen them from the jungle. Every woman straightened, waiting, wary, hoping this moment would finally provide answers.
Horns let the silence settle before speaking, his voice low and resonant. âHello. You must be wondering why you are here; I can only imagine how you are feeling. First, allow me to apologise for the way you were brought into our settlement. It was hostile, and our hunter sincerely apologises.â
If the âhunterâ was the red demon, then they sincerely doubted he was remotely apologetic at all.
âI do not know everything about your situation and so cannot provide answers, but I can tell you our side.â
Inspecting his audience, he stood, confident and serious, as though he was a lecturer, and they, students.Â
âAt dawn, we heard a commotion, felt a disturbance South of the mountains, one we had never experienced before. We sent our warrior to scout. He found the five of you, and a wreckage of something we did not quite understand. A thing we have never seen before. We believe you came from that wreckage.âÂ
The girls frantically nodded.Â
âThen you have landed in a land not your own. Our land.â
They were captivated by his reasoning, by how he pieced everything together in so little time without needing them to explain themselves. It was genuinely impressive. Perhaps that was why they hung on every word he spoke.
A girl remarked, âHeâs very well-spoken for a guy wearing a cape and a towel for his dick.â
Someone else responded, âGuess heâs the smart one of the group. Their leader, maybe.â
Horns continued. âWe believe it was the craft that bore you across whatever distance separates our worlds. Its workings and purpose are mysteries to us, but this much is clear: it is shattered, and no hands here can restore it. You appear to have no path by which to return to your home.â
Resounding grumbles filled the tent.Â
Tails hung from the wooden beams by his tail with a mischievous grin. âYou are stuck here! That is not goodâŠfor you, but that means you can stay with us!â
The leader fixed him with a flat, unimpressed stare. âWhat he means to say is, a storm approaches. Whether your kind has known its equal, we cannot say. In this land, however, storms strike with ice and violent winds. In the thin wrappings you wore, with so little strength in your bodies, you would surely not survive on your own.â
The finality in his tone struck them into silence. Whatever fragile ease the tent had offered dissolved at once. Fear flickered between the women as they shifted in their seats, suddenly grateful to be inside, sheltered from the monstrous jungle theyâd barely survived.Â
If its own inhabitants felt compelled to warn outsiders about it, then it had to be infinitely worse than theyâd imagined.
âYou can stay,â the alien added with a firm stare, âwe will gladly welcome you to our tribe, the way we would hope we would be welcome should our positions be reversed. But that welcome does not come for free; you must contribute.â
One of the women gulped. âMy alien asked me how I was going to bear his children since Iâm much smaller than he is. I can only imagine what they mean by âcontribute.ââ
They gasped.Â
âNo fucking way!â
âHe actually said that?â
âWait, like, he wants to have sex with you?â
She pursed her lips. âI would assume so. He did wonder, after all, how I was going to take his âcockâ. â
âEwwww. Who even says âcockâ?â
âApparently the aliens who want our bodies in exchange for them letting us stay here.â
Perhaps sensing that their panic was beginning to spiral, Horns released a low, resonant growl â just loud enough to bring their attention back to him.Â
âYour tasks will be simple,â he said, voice firm but no longer sharp. âYou will clean. Cook. Assist where needed. There is much to prepare before the storm arrives â and with your arrival, our efforts must be doubled if we are all to survive the winter.â
A collective breath escaped the women.Â
Relief softened shoulders. A couple even smiled.Â
Reasonable, they thought. Manageable. They had cooked and cleaned their whole lives; assisting sounded vague but harmless. After everything they had endured, mundane chores felt like a blessing.
Then Tails murmured, half to himself as he worked out some calculations only he understood, âThe storm should last long enough for them to give our tribe offspring.â
The smiles died instantly.
And then the tent erupted with shrieks.
âOh fuck no,â one of them said, rising to her feet with a look of complete indignation. âNo, no, no.â
âWhat the actual fuck!â
âI told you! I told you!â
âOh my god.â
âI can agree to bounce on alien dick, but I am not gonna pop out alien babies!â
One of the girls bolted for the exit. No hesitation, no backward glance. Whatever explanations these aliens offered, she had already decided â this place spelled their doom, and she wanted no part of it.
She didnât make it past the threshold.
Tails stepped into her path with unnerving speed, his appendage slicing a warning arc through the air. His lips peeled back, teeth gleaming in a silent threat that sent her skidding to a halt.
A sound rolled through Horns, something between irritation and restraint, before he spoke again. âForgive him,â he said, glaring briefly at Tails. âHis tongue outruns his wisdom. He misspoke.â
No one looked convinced.Â
Least of all the girl still trembling at the entrance, staring up at the alien who could clearly tear her in half without breaking a sweat. She swallowed hard. Testing his bluff felt like a death sentence. Her companions reached for her, dragging her back in fear that she might be cut down by the creature.Â
Slowly, reluctantly, the group clung to each other as they were ushered back toward their seats, cornered by the unspoken truth vibrating through the air: they were not free to leave.
âWe do not expect you to carry our seed,â Horns explained, making the alien equivalent of a sigh, they thought. âWe would never force ourselves on, nor that responsibility to, anyone, even if they are creatures of lesser intellect.â
They frowned.Â
âIs he talking about us?â
âI guess so?â
âShhh, heâs still speaking.â
Pacing the length of the tent, he mulled his words, as if conjuring them from a place unspoken, as if he didnât expect them to understand but he hoped they would. There was sincerity in his eyes that spoke of need, of desperation. It compelled them all to trust in his words.Â
They had no choice.Â
âWe are a small tribe of misfits. Kaisens that did not feel at home with the others, for one reason or another, and sought to make a place of their own. We have built our new home, hunt for ourselves, and protect one another. We are independent. Content. But our way of life, ourâŠisolationism, is not sustainable. It will die with us. UnlessâŠâ
They leaned forward in their seats with bated breaths.
He looked them all in the eye, the gold in them dazzling and hypnotising. âUnless, you help us.â
No one spoke, no one snarked or cracked a half-hearted joke. They merely sat there and let his words settle, let the weight of them, their implications set. What it â âhelpingâ them â meant, they didnât know. Couldnât ask.Â
Images, some hopeful and others cynical, flashed in their minds, filling in blanks created by the distance, by the divide between their world and his, which had merged in a cruel twist of fate.Â
âIt is a choice,â Horns said. âWe will not make it for you. We will not insist you stay here. We will not force you. You may stay here and never have to bear our offspring. We only ask that you consider it. Perhaps, by getting to know us, by giving us a chance, you will realise, we are worth salvation. You will ensure our survival just as we will ensure yours.â
Air tense and could be cut with a knife, the reality of their situation became glaringly clear: to make it on this new planet, they could not take and take. The world and its inhabitants expected them to give, in their own ways, in whatever way they could and would.Â
Even for them, for creatures adapted to the landscapes and built for survival, they could not outrun the merciless demands of life, could not outsmart inevitable oblivion, nor could they gain true independence.Â
It was a situation so familiar, so innate, so human that the girls understood. There was no anger, no outrage, no disgust. It was plain and simple biology.Â
âThe storm will come in six nights. Whatever your plans may be, you must make them and commit to your choice before then. For when the frost lays claim to the land, it will be far too late to regret them.â
Some looked outside, to skies they imagined were darkening, whilst others looked down at their hands, which shook.
âAnd out there, not even we can help you.â
Sa-To-Ru
That was a lot.Â
Needing some fresh air, and more food, you wandered outside. The day looked great; it was hard to believe a storm was nearing in a weekâs time. Never mind an icy one â it was as summery as any day on an alien planet could be.
At first glance, and a glance was really all one could do, the sun looked just like how Earthâs did: blinding, yellow, and round. With a squint and a microsecond look longer however, you realised this sun had a slight pink glow at the edges of its celestial body.Â
You wondered why, but then shrugged and moved on because you werenât an astrologist, or whatever.Â
âBeetbeet!â Someone shouted.Â
Without needing to look behind you, you already knew who it was. There was only one person in your entire life who had ever called you âbeetbeetâ and that person wasnât even a person, it was an albino alien with a tail. Sighing, you hastened your steps, pushing your body farther and farther away from the tent.Â
âAH FUCK!â
A heavy body jumped onto you. You staggered with the weight. Before you could fall onto the ground, he leapt off you with a clicking sound, thoroughly amused by his little prank.Â
Smiling more brightly than the sun, he asked, âWhere are you going?â
Peeved, you brushed his invisible germs from your new clothes. Last night, after you were âwashedâ by him, he threw your hospital gown and shoved you into some new thing â a shirt far too big and long for your body, trousers clearly cut quickly to make up for your shorter legs, and oddly perfectly fitting boots.
âClothes for the young because you are so small,â he explained that night.
The girls wore similar things, just in different colours. You looked like you were cosplaying cavewomen, all except for the one who hadnât been washed at all. Or dressed up as the Power rangers. But it was better than the thin material that did nothing to hide you from the elements, you supposed.Â
Comfortable too.
Although new to you, it fit you well-enough that you almost forgot you were wearing any. At least now, the soles of your feet didnât ache with the hardness of the ground and the little pebbles that poked you.Â
âAre you staying? Huh? Are you? Well? Are you going to stay?â Head titled to the side, he grinned at you, blue eyes wide and unnerving. He was practically bouncing on his feet, like a child.Â
What was even the point of asking questions when he knew he wouldnât understand your answer?Â
With a huff, you kept walking. It didnât matter if he could understand you anyway; you hadnât made up your mind yet. In fact, you had already decided not to think any more about it. You would go with whatever the group decided.Â
Stay or leave, it was all the same to you.Â
Pouting, the alien easily caught up with his long legs. âBeetbeet, are you ignoring me? That is not very nice. Not very nice at all.âÂ
When you didnât say anything else, he growled under his breath and smacked his tail against your ass.Â
You yelped.Â
Spinning on your heel, you jabbed a finger at him. âIâm not ignoring you, you annoying snow ferret. And donât use your weird tail thing at me! Ugh, why am I even trying? You canât understand me anyway.â
He blinked at you, confusion flickering across his sharp, pale features, then a smile spread so wide it almost hurt your eyes. Your irritation, apparently, was the most delightful thing he had seen all morning. âBeetbeet is angry! Ahh, good. Angry means you are healthy,â he chirped, his voice bright, lilting, and entirely confident in his own understanding.Â
âI am not angry. And I am not a beetbeet. Youâre just aâŠaâŠdumbass! Yeah! Youâre a big, pale dumbass.â
Clicking noises tickled your skin as he laughed. At you. Frustrated, you stomped away from the clearing and into the jungle.Â
Branches brushed against your shoulders as you pushed forward, hoping the thick undergrowth would finally slow him down. It did not. Meanwhile, the shadow behind you moved with impossibly long, graceful strides, bare feet crunching against dry leaves, and tail flicking in rhythm like a pendulum. You didnât know where you were going. You just wanted to stretch your legs.Â
âYou are small, but loud,â he noted proudly, holding low hanging branches away from your face. âLoud means you will survive winter well.â
Muttering under your breath, you retorted, âIâm not loud. And how does loud even correlate with survival?â
That brought up the question of staying or not once more. What were the girls thinking?Â
Perhaps you should have stayed behind and discussed it with them. But, they looked so troubled and worried, you thought some space would do them good. Tonight, you were going to talk to them about it. See where their heads were at. As much as possible, you wanted to stick by them. After all, there was no one else on this planet who would understand what you were going through.
Bending suddenly, he brought himself to your level with a serious look. âBeetbeet is thinking very hard,â he observed, tilting his head. âThinkingâŠthinkingâŠthinkingâŠâ
Oh, he had jokes.Â
Amazing.Â
Clearly, this one was going to be a major pain in the ass.Â
âStop narrating what Iâm doing, dumbass.â
Sunlight trickling in through the gaps in the canopy and casting shadows on his face, he blinked. âDuh-Um-Ahs. What is that?â
Unable to help yourself, you laughed. You pointed at his chest. âYou. Youâre a dumbass.â
Tails frowned, absorbing the sounds you were making and no doubt pushing his brain, if he had one, to the absolute max to cross the language barrier. Then, he leaned back, tail swishing behind him. âMy name is Sa-To-Ru. Not Duh-Um-Ahs.â
The syllables registered in your head but your mouth couldnât begin to form the sounds. âS-sâŠâ
Nodding, he urged you on.Â
âSa-â You strained, nose scrunching up. Wait. Why were you trying so hard? Rolling your eyes, you shoved past him and gestured to your stomach. âIâm hungry. Feed me.â
Somewhat disappointed, you could tell, he forced a smile and patted his own stomach. âFood? I can get you food. Want to hunt with me?â
Hunting, huh?
That could be fun. Nodding, you met his gaze and grinned. âShow me a good time, Jake Sully.â
He flashed his razor-sharp teeth. âFollow me.â
You stumbled behind him over the uneven, green and pink coloured soil. The trees grew strong, leaves like spiraling cones grazing your shoulders.Â
When you were wandering through the jungle with the other girls, you were so busy stressing over your hunger and exhaustion to notice how beautiful the terrain was. The alien had shown you a glimpse of the forest at night, when everything glowed, but it was just as awe-inspiring during the day.Â
Tails was masterful in his approach, hopping over breaching roots and sharp rocks without looking. There was no confusing him as anything other than a native of the land. He was one with nature. Completely in his element. Whereas you were stumbling over everything he wasnât.Â
You bumped into a big ass root. âShit!â
You caught yourself before you could fall. Cheeks heating up, you shook off the slight embarrassment. You were like Bambi in comparison to him.Â
Clicking his teeth together, he patted your head. âNeed to be careful, beetbeet. Here.â
He lifted you with ease once again, carrying you over leaps too big for your legs. All whilst the pink-tinged sunlight made everything shimmer with an almost dreamlike quality. There was no groan or creak of a struggle as he carried his weight with your own, navigating you both through the rough land.Â
If there had been, you might have kicked him in the balls, if he had any.
Sometime later, he placed you behind a large tree stump, pink vines climbing up its length, and a bush with curly leaves. Pressing a long finger to your lips, he indicated for you to stay quiet. You nodded.
âSee there?â he said, crouching low and pointing with a clawed finger. Ahead, a plump, stubby-winged bird pecked at the ground, iridescent feathers glinting faintly. âUruru. It only comes out during the day, when sun is at its peak. Tastes good.â
You tilted your head, confused. âLooksâŠlike a dodo bird.â
âThey are stupid. Always hunt in same place. We kill when no choice.â He was still doing that thing where he talked to you like you were an idiot, failing to understand the nature of your ability to understand him, unlike Horns. Weirdly, you didnât mind it anymore.Â
Pulling a knife made of black glass and wooden handle from the bushes, he flipped it around in his palm.
Your alien was in the zone now.Â
From behind him, you watched his back muscles flex, the smooth skin tempting to touch. His hair was overgrown, the ends tickling the base of his neck, kinda like a mullet. Somehow, he looked beefier than he appeared earlier.Â
Or maybe you were finally noticing him.
Mimicking his movements, you crouched low.Â
You tried to stay as quiet as you could, intent on not hindering him.Â
All he gave was an almost imperceptible nod before he lunged with lightning speed. The world became a blur of wings and claws. The âUruruâ bird squawked in surprise, flapping furiously, its stubby wings beating the air like drums. He moved with elegance, circling the bird with graceful precision. The creature bolted, legs scrambling over the loose soil, and you found yourself clinging to the ground.
The bird was surprisingly violent for something supposedly stupid.
As if it heard your thoughts, its head twisted to where you hid.
A sudden chirp, a flap, and the bird sprang toward you.Â
You yelped, jumping to your feet.
Satoru growled and pounced to intercept, knocking the bird aside with a swift, controlled motion. It squawked in frustration but froze under his gaze, wings quivering.
Breathing hard, you glanced at him, cheeks flushed with fluster and adrenaline.
Even in the chaos of feathers and claws, you felt yourself learning, and enjoying, the way he moved, taught, made this alien hunt feelâŠalive.
Cheering and jumping around, you tried to remember how it all went down. It was so fast, so sudden. Your brain wasnât processing it. Reflexively, you lifted your hand to him. âThat wasâŠso cool, dude! What the hell!âÂ
His tail swished behind him, sweeping some fallen leaves. The alien inspected your palm and mirrored it, hovering just in front.Â
Oh, right, that might not have been a custom in their world.Â
You shook your head. Gently grabbing his wrist, you pressed your palms together to demonstrate a high-five, or a high-four in his case. His tail swished faster. Â
With some blue tinting his cheeks and the tips of his fear, he crouched beside you. âGood reflexes. Must have been scary, huh?âÂ
âYeah, dude. That thing looked like it could kill me by pecking me to death.â Your hands were animated as you recounted the events, exaggerating here and there admittedly. He took it all in, like he was understanding you.
The bird, meanwhile, gave one final indignant flap before resigning itself to its fate. Satoru exhaled, satisfied, and beckoned you closer with a tilt of his head. âCome, mâ beetbeet. You can help me finish. Watch. Learn.â
But you didnât.Â
You turned your head at the last possible second, and heard the snap of bones and the squelch of flesh. You let out a breath.
Fighting, you could handle. Sort of. But actual killing?
Not today.
When you looked back, his smile blinded you. It was sincere, excited, and so easily shared. He had done this for you. To see a man so confident and assured brought a smile out of you too.Â
Then, you said, âLetâs cook this bad boy up, Sa-To-Ru.â
He jumped on you again.
âBeetbeet!â
Cho-So
Three girls were deep in discussion, one had gone for a walk, whilst you were still tied up like a hog. It was a mockery, to be sitting beside your freed sisters in battle, when you were collared and leashed.Â
Humiliating.Â
Which you imagined was what that purple alien bastard wanted you to feel.
Neither of you got any sleep last night and that pissed him off greatly.Â
He was growling and snarling, demanding that you sleep already, but how could you when you were starving?
Granted, you did do half of the screaming and hollering to get on his last nerves.Â
If it wasnât for the blond, Maleficent-looking alien stopping by, you would have probably died.Â
The leader, you assumed, fed you a bowl of their meat with their version of vegetables, and a canister of water. On any normal day, you might have been cautious about what strangers were feeding you, but at that point, you were just so hungry, you would have eaten anything.Â
Honestly, the girls were looking tasty to you.Â
Horns, as you all agreed to call him, scolded your alien babysitter. Something about how he needed to grow up, to trust him and you, that you and the others were guests, etc. etc.Â
But Barney wasnât having any of it.Â
Fed up, Horns gave you a pitying nod and asked if you were hurt anywhere. You shook your head, and then he left.
Restricted and starved, you had no choice but to munch on the bowl of food like a dog; you couldnât use your hands. Turned out, the human spirit really was indomitable âthere was nothing you couldnât do if you put your mind to it.Â
Especially when you wanted to spite a certain someone by showing them you didnât need their help.
He merely looked appalled and disgusted, especially when you burped in his direction.
Now, you were still dirty, wearing the hospital gown, and bound by vines.
Thankfully, one of the girls noticed the sour look on your face as you stared up at the top of the tent like a worm waiting to be pecked by the early bird. She beckoned over Horns â earning a cock of a brow from the others â who understood the situation and pulled a dagger from his belt. He freed you.Â
âFinally,â you groaned.Â
âI apologise for your less than warm welcome,â he said. âOur youngest is still learning how to get along with others.â
Speaking ofâŠ
You pointed outside the tent.Â
âWhere is he?â Horns tilted his head, mind working to piece together what you meant. You tried again. Gesturing outside and then indicating his distinct spiky hair you made with your own, you asked, âWhere is that little shit?â
âAh. You want to know where Cho-So is.â The alien seemed amused, if the small smile he wore was anything to go by. Without hesitation, he answered, âHe is by the river, just over the hill; he likes to snack on fish during the mornings. Take these new clothes and freshen yourself up.â
Nodding and picking up the bundle of clothes that everyone else had, you thanked him.Â
âWhat are you gonna do?â The girl wearing a red wooly shirt asked.Â
Darkly, you muttered, âGive him a piece of my mind.â
They chuckled between them before they resumed their discussion.
And off you went.
The river wasnât far, and the sound of it grew louder with every step. Morning light spilled across the clearing, soft and pale, catching on the strange foliage that framed your path. Leaves the size of shields trembled overhead. Vines hung low, kissing your shoulders as you pushed through.Â
A warm, humid breeze carried the clean scent of water and something sharper, almost metallic, that youâd begun to associate with this planet.
You followed the slope down until the trees opened, revealing the river at last. It flowed wide and slow, the current glittering in shades of pink youâd never seen on Earth â too deep, too luminous, like someone had mixed fairy dust straight into the water.Â
Pale stones lined the bank, worn smooth by centuries of movement. The air was cooler here, crisp against your cheeks, and tiny insect-like things hovered above the water, their wings flashing iridescent green.
And there he was.
Barney.
Your mortal enemy.
The alien squatted on a flat rock near the edge, back turned to you. His long black hair hung loose but dry. Every so often he snapped a fish straight out of the shallows, claws flashing, movements too quick to follow. He ate in silence, rigid and focused, as if the entire world didnât exist around him.Â
Finding the process of cooking too bothersome, he ate as if it was sushi.
Your annoyance simmered right back to the surface.
Barney couldâve untied you last night. Shouldâve untied you. But no, he left you trussed up like a rotisserie chicken whilst everyone else got pampered and fed. As far as you were concerned, he was your nemesis and damn it, you were going to make his life miserable for the rest of your time here.
Steeling yourself, you stepped onto the stones.
His ears twitched. He didnât turn. Not yet. Though you felt his attention sharpen, like a blade sliding free of its sheath.
Pile of new clothes and shoes dropped to the grass, you huffed to yourself and tore your dirty hospital gown off. You werenât going to rely on him to get you cleaned up. No, youâd do it yourself.Â
With a sharp inhale, you stepped into the river.Â
The current wasnât harsh, but the water was cold. You would adjust though. Shivering slightly, you waded deeper and deeper in until you were submerged to your neck. It wasnât rocky at the bottom, thankfully.Â
One could almost convince themselves they were just relaxing in a pool at a five star resort.Â
Completely naked underneath, you swam to where he could see you. He was scowling as he chomped on a poor fish. When he glared at you, you smiled.Â
âHey, remember me?âÂ
He scooted to the side, intent on pretending you didnât exist.Â
So that was how he wanted to play.Â
Fine by you.Â
âSighhh, if only I was at home, in my bathtub. Iâd be so comfortable,â you lamented, letting your voice carry over the rippling water. You drifted lazily on your back, kicking just enough to stay afloat. The current tugged at you, cool and insistent, whilst sunlight flickered across your bare skin.Â
If you were lucky, youâd annoy him simply by existing in his line of sight.Â
The alien tore another fish in half with his teeth, gaze firmly fixed on the horizon as if sheer will could erase you. His jaw worked hard, muscles ticking. He was doing an incredible job pretending you werenât there. Too incredible.Â
It was practically an invitation to escalate.
âAll this space,â you mused loudly, paddling closer to the bank, âand yet somehow I keep ending up right next to you. Fate is funny like that.âÂ
You could have picked anywhere.Â
Could have swam away from him, made sure neither of you would be bothered by each otherâs presence, and continued to live a harmonious life until the winter came and you, and your companions, packed up and left.
But you didnât.
Barney shot you a warning glare, pupils narrowing to slits.Â
Settling into a comfortable chest-high spot, you reached up and wrung out your hair. Droplets scattered across his rock, peppering his feet. His eyes twitched. Good. Progress.Â
Goosebumps prickled your skin from the cold wind. Still, you carried on, scrubbing at yourself with exaggerated intent. Your movements sloshed noisy arcs across the riverâs surface. Fish scattered. Birds startled. Even the hovering insects drifted away.
You ran your fingers through the length of your hair again, slower this time, making sure the spray travelled far enough to reach him.
A hiss pierced the tranquil air. âLeave. You are scaring the fish away.â
You flung another handful behind you, pretending it was accidental, knowing full well it wasnât. His entire body tensed. The river hummed around you, carrying the tension in faint, vibrating currents.Â
High above, something in the trees chirped like it was laughing at him.
The alien grumbled something under his breath. The words sounded clipped and irritated, but you deciphered enough to catch âpestâ and âno shame.â That only fuelled you further.
It was true â you had no shame. None in the slightest.Â
Not in the way you were purposefully pushing your chest out, how you were throwing your head back, and jutting your hip to the side. It was presumptuous of you to think heâd be tempted at all by your foreign form. Maybe they considered you lesser beings, the way a man wouldnât hesitate to step on an ant or how a woman might coo at a puppy.Â
AlthoughâŠwhen you hazarded a peek at his sitting form, a Grinch-like grin grew on your face; he had a boner.Â
There really was a dick behind those loincloths. Very interesting. Very interesting indeed.
Brows furrowed at the bump under his loincloth, he blinked frantically.Â
So did you.Â
Was heâŠconfused? About his erection?
Sensing your eyes on him, the alien snarled and swiped a hand under the water, splashing you. You squealed.Â
âI hope you and your friends leave,â he hissed, forked tongue flicking out for good measure.Â
Whereas Tails was happy to have you, and so was Horns, your alien was very obviously not so keen. Well, that decided it.Â
Initially, you had wanted some more time to think about it, to test the waters, metaphorically and literally, and come to a logical conclusion all on your own. The proposition didnât bother you as much as it did the other girls, it seemed â having sex with aliens was a once-in-a-lifetime experience and one you didnât want to miss out on.
Plus, there was a good chance a baby wouldnât hold, considering you were different species.
Barney pretty much cemented your decision, and early on. Kudos to him.
Lips curling into sharp points, you thrusted a finger into the air, aimed right at his fat head and then pointed it down.
âOh, Iâm staying,â you said. âCho-So.â
His jaw dropped.Â
Reptilian eyes shutting frantically, he froze in place. He wasnât expecting you to decide to stay after his inhospitable welcome, and more than that, he was definitely not expecting you to know his name.Â
You laughed, victorious.
And he attacked.
Strong legs leapt off the rock and dove into the water, hands grabbing onto your head and dragging you under. Bubble left your lips. You fought and struggled, nails digging into his torso.Â
His grip released and you rose back up, gulping for air and shaking water from your face. It had stung your nose and throat. You heaved.
Cho-So was already walking away, soaked, hands flexing as his claws were on full display. He panted with the strain of not killing you, you could only guess. Loincloth drenched, it clung to his asscheeks and you were a little disappointed he wasnât facing the other way.
He paused.
Turning his head ever so slightly back towards you, he grumbled loud enough for you to hear, âI do not want a mate.â And off he went again.
âI donât want to be friends with you either, asshole!â
You screamed into the air, feeling cleaner than before but also heavier with the need for justice.Â
Oh, you were so going to make his life hell.
To-Ji
âI donât want to reproduce with them,â you muttered, picking a loose thread on your new shirt.Â
It was nice, you thought, being out of the grubby gown youâd been wearing and sweating in. Whilst jungle attire wasnât your aesthetic, it was at least warm and comfortable. And you were matching with your friends.
You wore a long, rough-hewn shirt dyed a deep green, the sleeves wide and belted at the forearms, hem falling mid-thigh. Thick, dark hide trousers were tucked into knee-high furry boots, bound with braided cords.Â
Despite the rush job on the clothes, you could tell they were made of great quality and with thought â warm enough to be appropriate at any time of the day but breathable to withstand the midday sun and a little sweating.
The girl beside you, the one that had been eyeing the slit of the tent since she was dropped off here by the red one, responded, âNeither. I donât trust their bullshit about not wanting to force us. They canât just say, oh stay here please, but if you do, youâre going to have to cook and clean and make alien babies until the storm passes. Cooking and cleaning is one thing but sex and foetuses are another!â
Nodding, the three of you remained huddled together inside the tent. Tails ran after your friend, and the other girl had actually sought out another alien, the purple one. Only Horns remained.Â
He wasnât paying any of you attention. Instead, he was mapping out something on his desk. He would occasionally, however, glance over at the injured girl.Â
âHe patched you up?âÂ
She nodded shyly. âYeah. I donât know what he used but I feel much better. He was really kind about it too; he was warning me that it was going to hurt and that I should brace myself. Maybe heâs like a doctor or something. â
Red Shirt girl frowned and, with permission from the other, lifted the clothing to inspect the wound. It was patched up quite nicely. She looked pleased. No, content. âIt looks like itâll only take another couple days for you to be able to travel. Just enough time to leave before the supposed storm comes.â
âYou think theyâre lying, about the storm?â
âI think we should be prepared for anything.â
Before you could reply, a deep rumble approached. You turned your head to the entryway, to find the big alienâs head popping in. He smirked and beckoned you over.Â
âUh oh, Hulk wants you.â
âOh god. What does he want to do with me?â
Red suggested, deadpan, âImpregnate you probably.â
âThatâs not funny.â
She met your eyes with a hard gaze. âI wasnât joking.â
Like there was a lump in your throat, you walked over to the alien. He laid a heavy hand on your head. âCome with me today, little one. Keep me company.â
Hearing from his own words that he wanted you to âtake his cockâ and carry his children and confirming it with the morning meeting had you on edge. You were worried he would just shove your face into the ground and rut into you like some dog.Â
You doubted the other aliens would stand up for you.Â
Your shorter stride made the terrain more demanding; for him, each step was an easy, ground-eating movement, almost lazy in its efficiency. He produced a low thrumming sound as he walked, something between a hum and a whistle.
âWait! Wait, you're going too fast,â you called out.
Glancing over his shoulder at the distance between you, his mouth barely lifted, but the glint in his eye made the expression unmistakable. He was amused. To him, your lagging pace must have looked like some tiny, frantic creature attempting survival in the wake of a predator.
The next thing you knew, he had closed the gap in three long strides.
Your field of view abruptly became all torso â heat, mass, muscles arranged with biological efficiency. Nice abs. Very symmetrical.
His arm clamped around your waist. Then you were airborne.
Last night, you had been too tired, too starved of food and water to think properly. Now, you were seeing everything clearly.
âHulkâ wasnât just big, he was strong too. Built like a fighter. He could easily take you, if he wanted â having a massive build meant he probably weighed similar to a tank.
Lifted high above, he snuck in a quick sniff at your crotch. You shrieked.
âVery healthy mate. Good.â
Swung onto his shoulder with breathtaking ease, the sensation of weightlessness made you dizzy. Instinct kicked in and your hand shot out, grasping the first thing you could reach: his hair, coarse and warm between your fingers.
The world rotated drunkenly below you.
From this absurd new elevation, you could see not just the valley but the subtle shift of colours along the mountain ridges. The air felt thinner, sharper. He supported your entire body with one arm, his palm braced beneath your thigh in a hold so steady it bordered on arrogant.Â
It was quite beautiful, the view. Too bad you were too close to death to appreciate it.
âPut me down!â you cried, the words tumbling out in a rising pitch. âPlease! Iâm begging. Oh my god! Why did you sniff me?â
A slow tapping started on your thigh. Three thick fingers, pressing in a measured rhythm. A behavioural pacifier perhaps.
âStay still,â he ordered. âWe are almost there.â
Each step jarred you hard enough that your teeth clicked. Whenever your balance wavered, your grip tightened in his hair, which he responded to with a deep, irritated grunt.
âCareful,â he warned, tone edged with reproach, though he didnât adjust his hold. He didnât need to. His balance was flawless, the gait of something that had never once questioned its dominion over the landscape.
You careful?
He was the one carting you around like a damp towel slung over a line, barely concerned that gravity existed.
You shifted enough to glance down, wild-eyed, and instantly regretted it. Your stomach plunged. Beneath his loincloth, Hulk was very obviously, very blatantly pitching a tent.
Your hands froze in his hair.Â
Before you could even process what was happening, he lifted you down and placed you on solid ground. Your organs jostled as if you were on a rollercoaster. You dropped to the floor and clung to the grass, overjoyed that you were no longer seeing things from a height you had no business being at.Â
The drop wasnât far, but your organs sloshed like youâd just stepped off a malfunctioning carnival ride. You collapsed to your knees, clutching the grass, whispering praise to the soil itself for welcoming you back.
When you finally felt safe enough, you investigated your surroundings â bones hung from branches like festive decorations. Strips of cured meat dried on racks. Tools lay scattered everywhere: blades fashioned from stone, hooks carved from bone, and contraptions that looked like medieval torture devices.
It was a workspace of sorts. Hannibalâs, maybe.Â
An open space under a tarp held up by strong wooden beams partly buried in the ground, he weaved around the place using muscle memory and not sight. It was like a blacksmithâs home.
You blinked. Then you blinked again. ââŠOh. Wow.â
He strode to a low stone table and began picking up items at random, showing them off the way a toddler might show off rocks they found at the playground.
âThis,â he said, lifting a serrated bone knife, âcuts good.âÂ
You offered a soft smile. âYes, I can see that. Very good. VeryâŠsharp. Please donât wave it near my face.â
Hulk didnât understand your words, but he definitely understood the tone. His grin widened, dagger-like teeth peeking out. With excitement that didnât match his bulk at all, he set the knife down and grabbed something else â a wooden frame, woven with tough fibers.
âThis is a trap,â he announced proudly. âWe use it to catch kohamo. They have strong bones, good for weapons.â
You stepped closer, inspecting the craftsmanship. Despite its rough appearance, it was sturdy. Cleverly built, even. He might not have been the tribeâs intellectual, but he clearly had skill. He was the tribeâs maker, their carver, their Hephaestus.
That explained all the tools in his underground home.
âThatâs impressive,â you murmured.
Pointing at your boots, he flashed his fangs and explained, âI made those last night. Does it fit good?â
So that was where he went after you fell asleep in the pile of fur. You had been wondering.Â
He didnât sleep with you, like you were worried he might. Instead, he came back hours later and dropped a pile of the clothes and wooly shoes, placed your blanket higher up your body before he left again.
Kneeling before you, he tapped his knee. The man moved with purpose contrasting his clumsy size. You lifted your foot and allowed him to inspect the fit, pressing on your toes and gauging whether there was too much space or not enough of it.Â
Bewildered, you noted that, despite him being half his size now, he was eye-level with your collarbone. Broad-shouldered and muscular, he was truly a beast.
âYou like it?â He asked, coming back to a stand.
He wanted to impress you. Wanted your approval. But why?
Why you? Why not the other girls too? If it was the simple case of wanting someone to breed, then why did it have to be you? Why wasnât he talking to the others?
It was beyond puzzling.Â
âYeah, thank you.â
Unable to understand you, he simply patted your head, mussing up your hair before he began working on something. âI will make things for you. A place to put your belongings in. Stay with me, but be careful. Do not touch dangerous things.â
He didnât need to worry about that; you had no plans on touching anything.
The purity and innocence in his voice almost made you forget that he had been sniffing where he shouldnât have. How a man could be so vulgar and animalistic and be so sweet, in a way, you couldnât figure out.
Evidently, you were going to have to protect your groin area from him.Â
As he carved wood with his blade, brows knitted together and scarred lips pursed, you eyed the place. Never straying too far nor too close, you thought about what they, the aliens, wanted from you.Â
They needed to continue their lineage, repopulate their tribe. You didnât understand how it all worked. If alien pregnancies lasted as long as human ones, if your body could even take it, if they considered that.
The girl in the red shirt was adamant about leaving, whilst everyone else struck you as being on the fence. You didnât know what opinion you held, only that you knew you wouldnât survive very long out there. That, at least, in collaboration with the aliens you could be protected, fed and taught.Â
But reproducing with them wasnât a simple matter of popping a child out.
Youâd love to help them. Of course, you would; theyâd been so kind and welcoming.Â
Doing that at the expense of your well-being though?Â
That was simply asking for too much.
At least he wasnât pressuring you to stay, you thought. He hadnât even broached the subject. Though, it wasnât lost on you that heâd made a declaration of building things for you so youâd have a comfortable stay.
Was it chivalry, politeness and understanding of your situation? Or was it confidence that you would choose to stay?
You wished you could talk to him, could make him understand you, so you could have answers to your questions. You hated feeling useless and powerless.Â
Sighing, you grazed the edge of the work bench with your fingertips. It was buffed carefully, with not a single splinter.Â
Fine scratches covered the workbench, carved into the wood in swooping, unfamiliar patterns. They werenât random gouges. They repeated in a deliberate rhythm, deepened in some places, smoothed in others. You were no genius, by any means, but it was their alphabet, if you had to guess.
A name, perhaps.Â
A claim.Â
A habit?
Your curiosity tugged stronger than your caution. One hand crept toward the nearest cluster of symbols, fingertips hovering just above the grooves.
A shadow swallowed your wrist before you touched them. His hand â huge, warm, and calloused â closed around your forearm and guided it down, not harshly but firmly. Another grunt left him, softer this time, as if telling you to wait.
Once he was sure you wouldnât poke anything dangerous, he dragged the longest claw of his opposite hand across the wood, tracing the first curved symbol in one slow pass. His eyes flicked toward yours. Expectant.
He tapped the first symbol. Then he thumped his chest with the same hand, right over his sternum. Again, the symbol. Again, his chest. âMe.â
Realisation lit your face. âThatâs your name?â
A rumble rolled from him. His claw returned to the engraving. Patiently, he traced each symbol in sequence.Â
âTo-Ji.â
The sounds that left his lips didnât sound like ones you could make, but when they reached your ears, they registered a little more familiarly. Tasting the words, you tried your best to move your tongue to replicate it.
âT-toâŠTo-Ji?â
His chest thrummed. A green light pulsed under his skin, bringing to life those faint scars littered all over his bare chest, arms and legs. You gasped.Â
âHi, To-Ji.â
An understanding settled between you. A connection. You felt the pull, the gravity of it, though you didnât understand what it was. Subconsciously, you stumbled forward, hand reaching out for him.
He tilted his head with a grin. âI cannot wait till you are screaming my name when I am inside you.â
Moment over.
You dropped back, breathless and confused.
What was that?
Ken-To
âHey, wait, where are you going?â you asked your friend.
She was already on her feet, rolling her ankles in her new fur boots as if testing how well they cushioned each step. âGonna go exploring,â she said with a half-shrug. âIâd ask you to come with, but you should get some rest. You look like youâll pass out if the wind blows too hard.â
You frowned, unable to muster a retort before she offered you a gentle look over her shoulder â one that quietly said get well soon â and disappeared through the hide flap of the tent.
Her absence left the space strangely empty.
Everyone had left. You had nowhere to go. Sure, you could walk a little, but you were sore and still very tired, like your body was using all its energy to treat your wound. You wanted their company, but you felt awkward voicing that when you had only known them for a couple days at most.Â
They were already greatly burdened by your injury when they took turns shouldering most of your weight as you walked through the jungle. You wouldnât force them to play your nurse.Â
Now, there was just you and the alien who had tended to your wounds last night.Â
He sat at a large wooden desk, hunched slightly over a massive sheet of beige material â not quite paper, but close enough that your brain accepted it. The surface was covered in careful, dense markings. Beside him lay a miniature forest carved from wood. Tiny trees, dried moss for undergrowth, little footpaths etched into the ground. Their huts and tents were marked with smooth river stones, arranged with almost reverent precision.
It looked like a war-room map from some historical documentary. An entire tribe, rendered in miniature.
Your eyes lingered too long.Â
Sensing your eyes on him, he looked up from his work. âAre you hungry? The midday meal will not approach until the sun is at its peak. The responsibility falls on Sa-To-Ru today, and I am sorry to say, he is not the most punctual.â
Though you didnât know who Sa-To-Ru was, you had your suspicions. Smiling to yourself, you fixed him a look to say âI canât answer you.â
âAh, yes, of course.â He pondered for a second before he held two of his fingers to the wood. âTap the table once for yes, tap twice for no.â
His idea was surprisingly clever, far sharper than anything you would have come up with in the moment. He really must be their leader. Or perhaps you just werenât as bright as youâd like to think you were.
Eagerness to communicate nudged your feet forward until you were standing at the edge of his desk. Seated as he was, he met your gaze without tilting his head, those steady, all-knowing eyes pinning you in place. Heat crept up your neck under the weight of it. Trying to mask your fluster, you tapped the desk once â a small, sheepish gesture.
Although you were no longer starving, your body still needed to catch up, to recuperate the significant loss it suffered over the two days. Last nightâs meal was delicious and you couldnât wait for lunch.Â
He nodded as if he thought as much, and unwrapped a small package made of big, dark green leaves. Inside, there laid a pile of something you thought looked familiar. âIs that jerky?â
âThese are cuts of meat dried under the sun. The food you ate last night seemed to settle well in your stomach, so I believe this should be fine to consume. Do let me know if it begins to hurt inside.â
You took the lot and experimentally nibbled on a tiny piece. Your eyes widened. âOh wow. Thatâs good. Itâs just like beef jerky!â
The alien meat crackled between your teeth, far more flavourful than anything from a packet back home. Something smoky clung to it, and something sweet you couldnât identify. You savoured each bite whilst he resumed writing, the steady scratch of bone against parchment filling the silence.
His pencil-looking thing began to move, scribbling on the paper. âI am compiling notes on you and your kind â what you like and do not like, the things you can and cannot do. I hope you do not mind.â
Tap. Tap.
âThank you. It shall be useful for future interactions between our kind.â
It was nice of him, you thought, not to bring up the topic of staying or leaving. Maybe he understood that it was too soon to decide, and didnât want to push you. Of all the aliens, he was the most gentlemanly, most refined and human in spirit.Â
 A bit of normalcy felt good â you were just a girl talking to a boy.
Every few seconds, his eyes would slide back to you. It was subtle at first, then openly, like something about you tugged at his attention whether he wanted it or not. He wasnât staring rudely; there was nothing crude in it. It was far closer to the way a scholar checked a reference, or a watchman scanned the treeline out of instinct.
Truthfully, you didnât mind it; you were watching him too.Â
You gestured to the model in question â you always did like learning from documentaries as you ate. It was like you were searching for the perfect Youtube video.Â
He glanced at it.
âI built this. Every part. I admit I am a visual person; I need to see to make the best plans. I know every path, every shelter, and can decide on the next step. Is this something you have seen before?â
Tap.
âI see. And this interests you?â
Tap.
âI will record that you like craftsmanship. Perhaps you could replace me. Your smaller fingers will probably be more adept at it than my own.â
You giggled and tapped yes once more.Â
The lines across his forehead softened as he regarded the page. âYour reactions to pain, to food, to exhaustion. Your gestures. Your attempts to communicate without language.â His tone shifted into something almost reverent. âIt is remarkable.â
Remarkable wasnât the word youâd choose. Your efforts felt clumsy, desperate, painfully inadequate. The entire burden of bridging the gap fell on the aliens who had dragged you out of the nightmare of the jungle, stitched you back together, washed the blood and dirt from you, fed you. They solved every problem, guessed every need. Meanwhile, you existed like a malfunctioning device they kept trying to fix.
âHow is your wound?â Suddenly, he stood, towering over you once more. âIs it better?â
Tap.
âI would like to see for myself, if that is alright. May I touch you?â
You nodded, placing the empty wrapping down. It took him a pause, a beat, to remember that that was an affirmation in your custom. His three-fingered hands circled your torso, lifting you from under your armpits. He placed you on the surface, free of any papers or tiny trees that could poke you butt.Â
Up close, the air changed. His scent â musky, earthy, like sun-warmed fur and crushed leaves â filled your lungs. Last night, in pain and shock, you hadnât noticed anything about him beyond the fact that he wasnât trying to kill you.
Now, with the ache dulled and your mind clearer, you saw him as he was: furred more thickly than you realised, though the hairs were fine, soft-looking; carrying a small pouch beneath the drape of his covering; his breath subtly warming the space between you.
Slowly, deliberately, he lifted the hem of your shirt. He didnât let his fingers brush your skin, didnât move unnecessarily nor too suddenly.
For a moment, it felt like meeting him for the first time all over again.
âHow are your clothes? Do they suit you well?â His voice was deep, and a little gravelly. The vibrations tickled your skin. âThe shirts and pants were what we had lying around, so forgive us if they are ill-fitting. But the boots were made after inspection of your measurements, so we hope they are to your liking. We shall soon craft you your very own things, regardless of whether you choose to stay.â
You tapped the table.
He hummed.Â
The air was thick, filled with his scent and your breaths mingling. You were aware of every movement, every inch of skin his warm eyes grazed, and how close he was to touching you. But he never did. Never stepped too close, never lingered, never took what he could.Â
âYour wound is looking better. I am glad to know our herbal cures work on your body. That will be important to know,â he murmured.Â
Bewildered by the closeness, the comfort and the tenderness in which he moved around you, you found yourself asking, âWhatâs your name?â
Stilling, he pondered the sounds you made but could not respond appropriately. âI am sorry. I do not know what you are saying.â
How to convey your point across?
How to show him what you mean?
âUh,â you started, pointing outside, âC-choâŠumâŠChoh-Sow? No, wait, mmâŠCho-So. He is Cho-So.â Directing your finger to his chest, you continued, âYou are?â
Thrumming resonated, vibrating the air. He smiled, not with his teeth, simply with a slight curve to his lips but it brightened his face. He looked youthful, like a man youâd come across in the streets, the kind whoâd ask you out for dinner, pay for your meal and not expect anything in return. âI see. You want to know my name. Well, that is simple â I am Na-Na-Mi Ken-To. I suspect that will be too difficult for you though. Please call me Ken-To.â
It sounded easy enough when the words were processed in your mind, but once you started to force your mouth to form the syllables, you couldnât get further than the first. âKheenâŠoh, thatâs not quite right. KhehnâŠthatâs not right either.â
His thumb brushed your bottom lip, not pressing, not pulling, just urging you to follow his own lipsâ movements. âTake it slow. You can do it. âKen.ââ
âKhen.â
He felt the shift of your mouth, observed it with rapt attention, and muttered patiently, âNot quite. Say it again.â
âKhen?â
That firm, calloused hand shifted to your throat, covering its length. You gasped. He wasnât encircling it, though he could easily do it. No, he was merely feeling the hum. âIt seems you cannot make the exact sounds at all. Try it again, less breathy and more phonetic.â
Brows furrowed, you did as he asked just in time for his thumb to return to your lip to guide your movement. âKen.â
âMm, good. Try âTo.ââ
You tasted the instructions, eager to get it right, to show your appreciation. All whilst, he was standing between your legs, forcing them to spread far to accommodate the girth of his hips, tapered as they were. âTo.â
That thumb â calloused, sharp nail scraping your skin and never any further â tugged your bottom lip till it bounced. âPut it all together.â
Your chest was arching forward, barely perceptible but he saw. His eyes darkened like he could see through your shirt. A slow, quiet growl out of his lips. Scolding. Not you. Him. He didnât step back, didnât push forward.Â
Not until you repeated his name, albeit clumsily and imperfectly. Still it was his name and he heard it from your lips.
Thrumming.Â
Louder.Â
And then a snarl.
He stepped back, and turned away from you. A cold breeze blanketed you. Drawing your limbs towards yourself, you shivered with his distance. âKen-To, whatâs wroââ
âI must attend to some other matters. You are welcome to roam freely. Though I advice you not to stray too far; dangerous creatures linger deeper into the jungle. When the sun is at its peak, lunch will be prepared by the fire. I will see you at nightfall to change your wrappings.â
Ken-To left before you could say anything.Â
Again.
Su-Ku-Na
The meeting was no eye-opener, only a confirmation of all your worst suspicions.Â
No group of men would be nice enough to take on burdens like a group of women in an inhospitable world for free. Aliens included. Sure, cooking and cleaning made sense. Pulling your weight would only be fair.Â
But to birth alien babies?
Were they stupid?
Stupider than neanderthals?
You were different species â tall multi-coloured aliens and humans?Â
Were they that desperate for heirs that they would consider âlesser beingsâ to carry their child? Or maybe they were so repulsive to their own kind that their women wouldnât want them?Â
Did you even have corresponding sexual reproduction organs? Could you carry something as big as their kind in your womb? And then what after that? You nurse the babies for how long?
No, it was clearly a trap.Â
You didnât know how their parental dynamics worked on this planet but you did know that, for humans, labour was often never the last stage; children were a means to tie you down to them.Â
Grunting, you swatted low hanging branches and marched forward. They gave you six days to make a decision, and you were going to use that time to scout out the surrounding areas. Maybe there was something they were hiding from you. It surely felt like it.Â
A secret hole in the ground filled with other human women theyâd bred and stolen from, perhaps. Or a giant alien baby they worshipped as a god and were going to feed you to.
âIâll gut a baby before it tries to eat me,â you muttered.
You had to find a way to make it back to the ship. It was broken, yes, and you had not the slightest clue how to fix alien spaceships, but you had to look. You had to go over everything again, make sure you didnât miss a manual conveniently written in your language on how to get back to Earth.Â
Speaking of language, how was it possible that you could understand those aliens?
They werenât speaking your language, that much was certain â you heard their foreign sounds separate from how it registered in your ears.Â
It had something to do with the Blobs, you just knew it.
Maybe they werenât just taking from your bodies. Maybe they were also giving. Some kind of translator transplant or something.Â
You paused by a tree, leaning against the bark as chirps echoed through the forest and birds tweeted overhead. Patting your body down, you felt for any odd bumps, any incisions, or the likes. Down your arms, your chest, neck, stomach, thighs, calves, feet, head. Nothing.
Now that you really thought about it, something was different about you: you could breathe more efficiently, can hear clearer, feel lighter. A consequence of the Blobs or of the alien food?
How you were all able to breathe and consume the food here, was a mystery. Youâd need to be wary for the next couple weeks. The effects of being on a planet you werenât meant to be living on might not show up until later.
So many questions and no answers.Â
It was beginning to really eat away at you.Â
Fixing your clothes back in place, you carried on. At least you were better clothed now. Lightweight, warm and cozy â cavewoman couture was quite nice. No more of that shitty, dirty hospital gown. Easier to run in too.
The settlement had completely disappeared from view. None of the aliens noticed you creeping away. You could leave, run away now and test fate. Survive on your own.Â
But then, you thought about the girls, each one of them, and felt a bitter sense of guilt.
You couldnât leave them. They were the only ones who would understand you, the ones who had backed you up when you wielded that scalpel against the freaks. Although you were strangers to each other, youâd grown to see them as your friends, maybe even as your sisters, in struggle and in faith.Â
No, you wouldnât leave without them. You were going to gather data, organise a human-only meeting, and share what you knew with each other. Then, you would come up with a plan to make it back to the ship, survive together, and figure it all out. There was no one else you could rely on.Â
Especially not that big, red thing. The guy who looked like the cartoon Devil, Hellboy or the four-armed alien from Ben 10.Â
God, he was so annoying.
He didnât let you up all night â confined in his arms (and he had many), you were fed and bathed by him. He ripped your gown off like a buffoon with no sense of decency, dunked you in the river, and insisted on washing you himself.Â
And he was fucking rough as hell.
Grunting and snarling as you fought, holding you under for too long, and manhandling you around like you werenât a living, breathing thing with feelings and a limit to pain tolerance.Â
âAsshole,â you muttered under your breath.Â
The alien didnât have a home; he forced you to sleep out in the open, under the stars, and with his body as your only source of warmth. The clothes Horns gave when he stopped by didnât do much against the nightâs chill. A fact you rather thought Four-arms took advantage of so you would cuddle against his bare and hard body.Â
Which you, unfortunately, did.Â
But you didnât enjoy it!
Not at all.
How could you when he was so vexatious about it, patting your ass like you were a child and rocking you back and forth? Â
Where even was he?
He dropped you off at the tent this morning and disappeared.Â
âUgh, who cares?â You asked yourself. âIf he was here, heâd just be like, grrr âmineâ grr.â
Branches rustled somewhere behind you. It was faint at first, hardly more than a shift in the undergrowth. A bird shrieked overhead and fluttered away. You scanned the treetops, your heart picking up speed, but nothing moved.
You kept walking.
A twig snapped.
This time you froze. The sound was too heavy, too deliberate. Not the scuttle of a small creature or the hop of one of those strange long-tailed birds. It was the weight of something larger. Something with mass.Â
Your stomach tightened.
The forest offered no comfort. The trees crowded in tight, their giant trunks blotting out the sky. Moss hung like wet curtains, muffling sound. The air grew warmer around you in warning. A most haunting feeling crept at your spine.Â
You were being watched.
Another step behind you.Â
Closer.
You spun around, breath catching. Nothing.
A grunt reached your earsâŠ
It wasnât a greeting. It wasnât even a word. It was the ground-deep growl of a predator announcing itself, rolling through your bones before your ears.
Then, he stepped out from between the trees like he had always been there, carved from the shadows. Four arms, each roped with muscle. Skin the color of bloodied clay. Black markings more prominent in the day. Eyes like split embers sinking heat straight into your chest.
He looked furious.
No, furious wasnât enough. The tension locked in his jaw, the flare of his nostrils, the way the forest seemed to bow out of his path as he approached, all told you he was somewhere past that.
âMine,â he growled.
Called it.
You backed up until bark pressed against your spine. His presence swallowed the space around you. Each step he took felt like the trees held their breath.
âYou go.â He jabbed a thick finger toward the distant settlement. âOut. Alone.â
Your mouth opened but nothing came out. Though he was nowhere near as eloquent as Horns, he was still getting his message perfectly across â you were being told off.
Four-arms loomed closer, the heat of him brushing your cheeks even though he hadnât touched you. His upper right hand closed around a thick branch beside your head; the wood cracked under his grip like brittle bone.
âStupid,â he said. The word landed clumsily, like he was pulling it from some deep, little-used place inside his throat. âToo small. Too weak. YouâŠwander.â
His voice rasped, dropping lower.Â
âBad.â
âI wasnât going far,â you murmured. Embarrassingly, you felt like a child being scolded, like he had caught you doing something you werenât supposed to do. But you were told you could do as you pleased.
Perhaps not in those exact words, but Horns did say they wouldnât force you to do anything you didnât want to.
He leaned in. His lower left hand reached out and cupped your jaw with surprising gentleness, thumb brushing across your cheek as if to confirm you were still intact. His eyes narrowed as he took in every inch of you, checking for cuts, bruises, bites. His breath hit your skin in short bursts, warm and uneven.
He smelled like he had been following you for a long time.
âYou leave tent,â he grumbled. âYou did not wait.â
âI didnât know you were coming!â
The alien didnât understand, but he seemed to know the shape of your protest. His lip curled. Not in anger this time, but close to frustration, guided by instinct rather than intention.
His red, feral eyes scanned the environment. âNot safe. We go back.â You shook your head and pulled away from his grasp. He snarled, grabbing you again. âMine.â
âEnough! I am not âyoursâ! Leave me alone.â
Grip only tightening at your defiance, heat rippled under his skin, the warning of a creature accustomed to enforcing boundaries with strength rather than words. You dug your heels into the soil and twisted your wrist, trying to pull yourself free.
Nothing budged.
The trees around you rustled.
A gust carried the sharp scent of disturbed earth, something musky and territorial rising from beneath the undergrowth. His ears twitched. The change in him was immediate. His spine straightened and those crimson eyes shifted away from you, narrowing at the shadows between the trunks.
Enormous body casted a shadow over yours as he covered you entirely from whatever he was sensing.
He said nothing, but every line of his body braced for trouble.
You followed his gaze, peeking around his torso.Â
At first, there was only silence. Then a low, crawling growl peeled through the clearing. Leaves crunched. The bushes swayed. A creature â something like a mountain cat but twice the size, its hide patterned with bone plates â slunk into view.
âWhat theâŠâ
Its eyes fixed on him first, then slid to you.
âStay,â he commanded, voice harsh in a way he hadnât ever sounded before. It echoed through your ribs.
There was no further warning.Â
The beast lurched..
He met it head-on, body moving with brutal confidence, honed by years of living in this savage landscape. Claws scraped across his forearm, but he didnât flinch. Deflecting the large maw with one hand, he seized the creature by the scruff and slammed it into the dirt with the other. Leaves exploded around them. The animal thrashed, tail whipping, jaws snapping for purchase.
A sharp cry tore out of you before you could stop it.
He heard.Â
Even mid-struggle, he looked back at you, fangs bared with irritation â not at you, but at your panic. The distraction didnât matter. With a twist of his hips, he pinned the creature beneath his knee and drove his fist into the side of its skull. The forest fell silent almost instantly.
The crack of bone, the crunchâŠÂ
Your legs turned watery. You barely noticed the creature going limp. All you saw was the crimson blood beading across Sukunaâs arm.
He rose slowly, wiping his knuckles on the grass. âDanger,â he muttered, glancing at the carcass. âYou listen now.â
âAre you hurt? Oh my godââÂ
He didnât understand your words, but your panic struck him harder than the animalâs attack. When your hands flew toward his arm, he caught your wrists, holding them still. Warmth radiated from him, steady and grounding.
âNo fear,â he said softly, brow drawing together. âSafe.â
It happened so fast.Â
If he hadnât been here, you would have surely been mauled by that beast. But if you hadnât been here, then he wouldnât have a gash running down his bicep. He protected you. Shielded you with his body.Â
And there you were, hyperventilating.Â
Brows knitted, he studied your expressions. He looked perplexed by your shaking, like you should understand he was fine, that alive and hurt was better than dead. Bending down to your level, his nose skimmed your hair. âWhy still scared?â
âY-youâre hurt. You were attacked. It was so quick. And then y-you killed it, but youâre bleeding.â
His lips grazed the shell of your ear, brushing your hair back. âSafe. Su-Ku-Na safe.â
âS-safe?â Your breathing refused to calm. Something in you wanted to cry, though nothing terrible had actually happened to you. The emotion blindsided you. Why were you shaking for him? âSu-Ku-Na safe?â
A thrumming vibrated against your forehead where his chest brushed your face.
âSafe.â
He studied your trembling fingers and quivering lips, then scooped you up as if you weighed nothing. âWe go back now.â
You didnât protest. âYes, yes, we go back now.â
Against his chest, your thoughts tangled: why did you react like that? Why did the sight of his blood twist your stomach more than the creatureâs roar? Why was the hardness of his body offering comfort?
You pressed a hand to your mouth, unsettled by the truth rising inside you.
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