girl i just wanted to tell u that a few jjk bot pages are using ur fics w the exact same to same words like literal copy pastes w hyperlinks to what I assume are scam websites. that's it !!
sukuna was perched up on your plush couch, watching the purple wax melt up transforming into a hot liquid in the wax heater. an irritated expression carving his features as he scoffs at the concept of him getting his rosy pink bush waxed just because you wanted to experiment with your new wax heater.
as the wax fully melted in the heater, you put a beige wooden stick in it and scooped out some wax. you twirled the stick around so none would accidentally drip. you smeared a nice thick layer just above his base.
he winced as you smeared the wax on him like you were making peanut butter and jelly. his fingers gripping the couch with such a significant force his knuckles turned white. the warmth of the wax was a rush that felt way too good for him.
your delicate hands had already left him aching with anticipation, but you paid no mind to it, too focused on finally using your equipment on him
after a few seconds the wax hardened. you put your hand on it to test if it was hard enough to strip off. “‘m gonna pull it..” you warned.. “3…2…1!” you suddenly pulled it off and the sensation felt too strong for sukuna to handle.
“oh fuck…” he groaned, the overwhelming pleasure shot right up to his cock. head thrown back on the pillows, hips jerking upward and his toes curling in his socks as his cum spurts out on your hand, on the couch, on everything.
you freeze. blinking at him in shock as your brain tries to catch up with what just happened. still holding the dried wax with sukunas pink pubes plastered on it.. and drips of his cum.
“don’t.” he growled, closing his legs and scooting upwards. “dont u fuckin dare laugh u hear me?” he husked, even though his face turned a shade of beet red.
you tried to swallow down the laugh forming in your throat… but you just couldn’t.. who the fuck cums that easily just by getting their dick waxed ?
hey! do you have any muted red and gray/black dividers? ty!
hello @nonbinaryeddiekaspbrak !!! SO SORRY FOR THE LATE RESPONSE ☠️ I've had a lot of things going on in life taking time away from online, but here are some dividers for you, if you'd like more or a different type, make an ask and I'll get more for you I apologize 😭
fratkunas dick so good it put u to sleep 😴😳cw: lowkey size kink smut, smut and more smut
Sukuna had you in a meean mating press. your legs hung lazily hung on his broad shoulders as he rutted into you. dick nearly bullying your cervix as it got lost in your gummy walls.
His hands gripped at your waist, his large fingers engulf your entire stomach squeezing the soft flesh with a practical death grip as you clenched around him, squeezing like a velvet vice. cunt squelching with your previous orgasms mixed in with his running down your thighs and creating a milky white ring around the base of his cock.
“shiitt you’re dripping, all f’me..” he murmurs as one of his hand descended from your waist, moving down to your sticky thighs as he smeared the blend of your orgasms together from your thighs now on his fingers and moved it up to rub you clit lazily with his thumb. he did the same with his other hand but instead sticked his index and middle finger into your mouth.
you whined against his fingers but didn’t refuse them. your tongue swirled around his digits sucking his fingers clean.
“You like baby? You like when you can taste what we made together?” he growled, plunging his fingers deeper down your throat. just as quickly as he shoved his fingers in, he pulled them out and wrapped them around your throat (not too hard of course.)
“I asked you a question.” he said, voice thick and demanding with a lazy grin on his face as he started to thrust faster in you.
“y-yes it taste too good kuna!!” you managed to get out in between your moans and whines. he chuckled and removed his hand from your throat but instead pressing it on your lower abdomen making the knot in your stomach begin to loosen
“m’ gonna cum..!!” you warned until eventually reaching your high, creaming all over his meaty cock with your body trembling from how good it felt. it didn’t take long for him to follow from how tight you were clenching and squeezing around him. one big thrust and a deep groan, hot ropes of cum filled you up to the brim.
he stayed inside you until he softened. he watched in awe as he pulled out and saw his cum oozing out of you. he didn’t realize you already dozed off until he heard a soft snore which made him perk up to see that you were already gone. eyes fluttered shut. lips slightly parted, soft breathing and occasional snores.
he smirked at the sight. tucking you into the covers even though you were sticky and messy.. that’s tomorrow’s problem.
“mmh, damn. my dick so good it put you right to sleep huh?” he chuckled and pressed a light kiss to your forehead
“rest well.”
don't remember where i got the dividers im sorry if no credit 🥺
᭡୧ Fix your route? Nah, Fuck you right. — N. Kento.
᭡୧ synopsis: in which nanami is a longtime divorced man but got a very active sex life. and in which a new, bimbo… and a very much younger neighbor moves in next to his apartment. worst part is, he’s not able to control himself around you. especially when you’re at his door, asking him to fix your wifi late at this hour.
᭡୧ pairing: older!nanami kento x kinda bimbo fem!reader
᭡୧ c. warnings: age gap, heavy sexuál tension, eyefu cking, solo m. mast urbation, nanami is in his 40s and reader is early 20s, belly/tummy bulge, fing ering, did i say heavy se xual tension?, pus sy eating, overstim ulation, squi rting, weak plot/heavy po rn — if there’s more to tag lmk. w.c: 7.8k+
nanami kento has always kept his life neat and quiet, the kind of man who folds his shirts the same way every morning and times his coffee exactly seven minutes after the water boils. forty years old, divorced once a long time ago, and now he lives alone in the corner apartment on the fourth floor where the hallway light flickers just enough to remind him he should probably call maintenance but never does.
his sex life is the same as everything else he controls, sparse and deliberate. a few times a year he lets himself download one of those bland apps, meets a woman his age in a hotel bar, fucks her slow and polite in the dark so neither of them has to look too closely at the other.
most nights though it is just his own hand in the shower, quick and efficient, eyes closed while he thinks about nothing at all. he likes it that way. clean. no mess. no complications. until you moved in next door three months ago and ruined every single one of those careful rules without even trying.
you showed up on a rainy tuesday with too many cardboard boxes and a laugh that carried through the thin walls like it belonged there.
early twenties, fresh out of whatever college or job that spat you into this building, always in oversized shirts and tiny sleep shorts that rode up the back of your thighs when you bent over to pick up your mail. nanami noticed you the first time he passed you in the hallway, the way you smiled at him like he was just another neighbor instead of a man who suddenly felt every one of those twenty years between you. he told himself it was nothing. just new noise in a building that had been quiet for years. but then the noise became something else.
the soft thump of your music when you cooked dinner, the way your balcony light stayed on late while you scrolled on your phone, the faint vanilla scent that drifted under his door every time you took out the trash. he started catching himself pausing at the peephole when he heard your keys, hating the way his cock twitched at the mere sound of your footsteps. hating it more when he realized he was hard again in the shower that same night, fist wrapped tight around himself while he pictured those sleep shorts pooled around your ankles.
he tried to ignore it at first. threw himself into longer office hours, came home later, kept the volume on his television higher so he would not hear you humming in the shower through the shared wall. it did not work.
every little thing you did chipped at him. the way you waved from your balcony in the mornings wearing nothing but a thin tank top and no bra, nipples stiff from the cool air. the way you asked him once, all sweet and shy, if he knew how to fix a leaking faucet and stood too close while he worked, soft focused grunts leaving is chest and his rolled-up sleeve. after that night he jerked off twice before he could even get his jeans off, coming so hard he had to brace one hand on the shower tile just to stay upright.
he hated how easily you affected him. hated that a girl barely old enough to rent her own apartment could make a man like him, a man who prided himself on control, feel like some desperate teenager again. his sex life used to be something he managed. now it was just quiet frustration and the occasional guilty stroke while he thought about how small you would look under him, how tight you would feel, how pretty you would sound moaning his name.
then came the router. you knocked on his door at nine-thirty one random night, voice small and embarrassed over the phone first, then in person when he opened up still dressed in his white button-up and black jeans.
nanami stands at your doorway with one hand already in his pocket, the other holding the small toolbox he keeps for these exact random neighbor emergencies all ready, and he tells himself for the tenth time that this is nothing. just a quick fix.
your voice is soft and a little embarrassed over he’s not surprised. “sorry to bother you, nanami-san, but my wifi router just died and i have no idea what i’m doing with these things.” he had sighed, told you he would be right over, and now here he is, hating every single second because the moment you open the door he feels it again. that pull. that stupid, inconvenient heat low in his gut that has been creeping up on him since the day you moved in.
you are wearing your famous oversized t-shirt that slips off one shoulder and tiny sleep shorts that ride up when you shift your weight, bare feet on the hardwood, skin glazed with a thin layer of sweat like you had been lounging on the couch all evening.
you smile at him, grateful and a little shy, and nanami’s jaw tightens. he is forty, a divorced but settled, a man who likes order and quiet and routines that do not include getting half-hard at the sight of his much younger neighbor’s collarbones. yet here he is, eyes dragging down the line of your neck before he forces them back up.
“thank you so much for coming,” you say, stepping aside to let him in. your voice is warm, a little breathy from the relief of not having to deal with it alone. the apartment smells faintly of vanilla and whatever takeout you had for dinner.
nanami nods once, polite as always, and follows you toward the corner where the router sits on a low shelf. he can feel the weight of his own body, the clean but lived-in scent of his white button-up clinging slightly to his skin after a long day, black jeans sitting snug on his hips. he is musty in that grown-man way, soap and faint cologne mixed with the faint trace of office air and the walk over, nothing overpowering but undeniably male. he knows it. he hopes you do not notice how it fills the small space between you.
you hover close while he crouches down to look at the router, your thigh brushing his shoulder as you point at the blinking lights. “it just stopped working out of nowhere. i tried restarting it but…” your words trail off when he glances up.
his eyes catch on the way your t-shirt hangs loose, the soft swell of your tits visible at the neckline, the smooth skin of your legs right there at eye level. he should look away yet nanami does not. instead his gaze lingers, slow and heavy, tracing the curve of your hip, the way the hem of those shorts digs into the flesh of your thigh. he feels his cock twitch in his jeans, thickening against the zipper before he can stop it.
fuck.
he shifts his weight, trying to hide the growing bulge, but the movement only makes the fabric pull tighter.
“let me see,” he mutters, voice lower than he intends, rough around the edges. his fingers work the cables, checking connections, but his mind is not on the router. it is on you. on how you smell like warm skin and faint lotion, on how you keep biting your lip while you watch him, on how easily he could reach out and slide his palm up the back of your thigh.
he has been trying to ignore it for weeks. it takes him back to the way you wave at him from your balcony in the mornings, the sound of your laugh carrying through the thin walls when you are on the phone with friends, the soft thump of your music when you cook.
every little thing has been chipping away at his carefully built restraint. he is older. he should know better. but his body does not care about should.
he stands up slowly, taller than you by a good amount, and when he does his chest brushes your shoulder. you do not step back and the air between you feels thick, charged, and nanami’s eyes drop again, this time to your mouth, then lower to where your nipples have tightened under the thin shirt.
he swallows hard. his cock is fully hard now, pressing insistently against the front of his black jeans, the outline obvious if you were to look down. he turns slightly, pretending to fiddle with the router settings on his phone, but the movement only highlights the bulge.
he can feel the heat of it, the way it throbs when you lean in closer to see what he is doing, your breath ghosting over his forearm.
“is it the cable?” you ask, voice quieter now, like you have noticed the shift too. your eyes flick to his face, then down, then back up, and nanami sees the faint flush creeping up your neck. good. at least he is not suffering alone. he clears his throat, forcing his attention back to the device, but his free hand flexes at his side, knuckles whitening. he wants to touch you. wants to back you against the wall and slide those tiny shorts down your legs, wants to feel how wet you already are because he can smell it, that sweet faint arousal mixing with your usual scent.
his mind supplies the image without permission: you bent over the couch, his cock buried deep while he grips your hips and fucks the whimpers out of you. he exhales sharply through his nose.
“try it now,” he says, stepping back just enough to give you space, but not enough to hide anything. the router lights flicker green. you pull out your phone to test the connection and let out a small happy sound that goes straight to his dick.
“it works! oh my god, thank you, nanami-san.” you turn to him fully, eyes bright, and for a second he lets himself look. really look. at the way your chest rises with each breath, at the bare stretch of thigh, at how your lips part when you realize he is staring.
he does not smile. his expression stays bland, almost stern, but his eyes are dark and hungry, eye-fucking you so openly now that there is no pretending. his cock strains harder against the denim, a small wet spot forming where he is leaking, and he makes no move to hide it.
he is half heartedly relieved you do not notice. your gaze still stuck on your phone screen, lashes fluttering, and when you look back up, you read there is something new in his expression, something needy and waiting to be unleashed.
nanami’s voice comes out rougher than he means. “you should get a better router. this one is outdated.” it is the most neutral thing he can think of, but it does not matter.
the tension is already there, thick and undeniable, wrapping around both of you in the half-unpacked living room. he can feel his pulse in his cock, the heavy ache of it, the way his balls feel tight just from standing this close to you. he wants to hate how easily you affect him.
he does hate it. but he cannot stop the slow drag of his eyes over your body one more time, imagining exactly how you would look spread open on his bed, taking every inch while he tells you how long he has been fighting this.
you shift on your feet, thighs pressing together, and nanami catches the tiny movement. his jaw clenches. he should leave. he should say goodnight and go back to his quiet apartment and jerk off to the memory like he has done more nights than he cares to admit.
your heartbeat picks up its rate, your finger tips sweaty. you feel the air thickening already, noticing the print of your neighbors dick without even looking down.
“so maybe you could stay and i could make you some te–” your proposal is short lived.
“i’ve fixed what you’ve called me to help for. goodnight.” his stern voice catches you off guard, watching him collect and grab the toolbox on the floor that was forgotten seconds ago. you try to say something but stay frozen when he pushes past you, his neck veins slightly showing on his skin.
nanami strides out fast. because right now, with his cock hard and obvious and his control fraying at the edges, he is not sure he has the strength to stay in the same room with you.
and so he leaves you standing in the middle of your apartment with your wifi fixed and a pile of notifications ‘ding-ing’ every seconds.
+
a week drags by in thick, unspoken tension that sits heavy between the thin apartment walls like smoke that refuses to clear.
nanami wakes each morning with the same stern resolution burning behind his eyes: keep the distance, lock it down, pretend the night you called him over for the router never happened. he leaves for the office before the sun fully rises, comes home long after the hallway lights have dimmed, and when he passes your door he keeps his gaze fixed on the scuffed floorboards like they hold the answers to every moral question he has been asking himself since he first felt that inconvenient throb in his jeans. but the memory refuses to fade.
it lingers in the shower when hot water runs down his chest and his hand wraps around his cock without permission, stroking slow and frustrated while your freshly known name slips out between gritted teeth like a confession he wishes he could swallow back.
it follows him into bed at night, where he lies stiff on his back and remembers the exact shade of flush that crept up your neck when his eyes dragged too long over your body.
he hates it. hates how easily a girl barely out of her early twenties can unravel the careful, quiet life he has built for himself. he is older, disciplined, a man who values order and restraint above almost everything, yet here he is, reduced to stolen glances through the balcony railing and late-night strokes that leave him emptier than before.
you do not make any of it easier. you still wave at him from across the narrow gap between your balconies in the mornings, soft smile curving your lips like you know exactly what you are doing to him. you leave polite little notes taped to his door about shared packages or the new recycling bins downstairs, your handwriting neat and looping in a way that makes his fingers tighten around the paper every time.
each accidental brush of your fingers when you hand him mail in the hallway sends a spark straight down his spine, and every polite “good morning, nanami-san” you offer chips away at the walls he keeps trying to reinforce. he catches the sound of your laugh through the thin wall sometimes when you are on the phone with people… your age, light and warm, and his cock thickens in his slacks before he can stop it.
he tells himself it is nothing. just proximity. just the natural reaction of a man who has been alone too long. but deep down he knows the truth: you have gotten under his skin, and the more he tries to push it away the harder it pulls.
tonight the last thread of his restraint finally frays and snaps.
the familiar knock comes at exactly the time he wishes it to, soft but insistent, cutting through the quiet of his evening like a hook sinking into flesh.
nanami opens the door still dressed from the office, white button-up with the sleeves rolled neatly to his elbows, black jeans sitting low on his hips, the faint musty-clean scent of him drifting out into the hallway, clean and faint cologne and the long day clinging to his skin.
you stand there in another oversized t-shirt that slips off one shoulder and those same tiny sleep shorts that have been haunting him, hair not perfect like you had been caught up in something… private, cheeks already carrying that telltale pink flush. it’s as if last week was repeating itself.
“the router again,” you say, voice small and breathy, but your eyes are not on any imaginary problem. they trace the open collar of his shirt, the broad line of his shoulders, the way his chest fills the doorway. “it keeps dropping signal. i tried everything you showed me last time but… i think i need your help again.”
he should tell you no. should suggest you call the building manager in the morning this time and close the door before the air between you thickens any further. instead he exhales slowly through his nose, jaw tight, and reaches for the small toolbox he keeps by the door without saying a word.
he follows you next door, the faint click of the lock behind him sounding louder than it should. the moment you are both inside the living room the atmosphere shifts, warmer and heavier, like the space itself is holding its breath. you lead him to the same corner shelf where the router sits, but this time you do not hover at a polite distance.
you stand close enough that your bare arm brushes his rough skin when he crouches down to look. the lights on the router are steady green. he knows it is working fine the second he glances at it. and most definitely you know it.
the excuse is paper-thin and neither of you bothers to pretend otherwise.
nanami rises slowly, turning to face you fully, his tall frame casting a shadow over you in the soft lamplight. his eyes do the same slow, solemn drag they did the week before, only heavier now, sharpened by seven long days of fighting the memory of your body.
he watches the way your nipples have already tightened under the thin fabric of your shirt, the subtle press of your thighs together like the ache between them is already building. his cock responds immediately, swelling thick and heavy inside his black jeans, the thick ridge becoming obvious as it presses against the denim. he’s sure a faint damp spot is beginning to form, but he does not try to hide it this time. he lets you see. lets the weight of his stare settle on you like a touch.
“the router is working fine,” he says, voice low and rough, carrying that same stern tone he always uses, like he is delivering a verdict in court rather than standing in your living room with a hard-on he cannot will away. “you know that as well as i do. why did you really call me over here?”
you swallow visibly, eyes flicking down to the clear outline of his cock straining against his jeans before rising back to his face.
your chest rises and falls with a heavier breath, lips parting slightly, but instead of answering you take one slow step back. then another. your hands move to the waistband of your sleep shorts, fingers hooking under the fabric, and you bend forward just enough to slide them down your legs in one smooth motion.
the shorts pool at your ankles and you step out of them, leaving you in nothing but a pair of grey lace panties with delicate pink ribbons threaded along the edges. the soft fabric clings to the curve of your pussy, the faint outline of your folds visible through the thin material, and nanami’s right leg twitches involuntarily, his cock jerking hard inside his jeans at the sight.
his brows draw together in a quick pretend of frown, serious expression tightening. “what are you doing?” he asks, voice dropping even lower, a clear warning threaded through the words. but you do not stop. your fingers catch the hem of your oversized t-shirt next, lifting it slowly, inch by inch, revealing the soft skin of your stomach, the delicate dip of your waist, the underside of your breasts.
you pull the shirt up and over your head, letting it drop to the floor beside the shorts, and now you stand there in only the grey lace panties, tits bare, nipples stiff in the cool air of the room. nanami’s breath catches, his hands flexing hard at his sides, the long fingers curling into fists as he fights the urge to reach for you.
he says your name then, low and rough, the syllables heavy with warning. “don’t.” but you only smile, small and soft and knowing, and continue. your thumbs hook into the waistband of the panties, sliding them down your hips with agonizing slowness, the lace catching briefly on the swell of your ass before you let them fall.
you step out of them completely, now fully naked in front of him, skin flushed warm under his heavy gaze. you walk toward him, bare feet quiet on the floor, hips swaying just enough to make your tits move softly with each step. when you are close enough that he can feel the heat radiating from your body, when his mouth opens to speak again, you lift one finger and press it gently to his lips, shushing him.
nanami lets out a small, broken sound, half whimper, half groan, the noise slipping out before he can stop it. his cock throbs visibly in his jeans, another bead of pre-cum soaking into the fabric as the tension coils tighter in the narrow space between your bodies.
he exhales shakily against your finger, eyes dark and conflicted, thick needy lines deepening on his face. “you’re a very young girl…” he trails off, voice rough and strained, the words carrying the weight of every reason he has been telling himself to stay away.
you pull your finger back just enough to speak, voice soft but steady. “i’m legal.”
“barely,” he counters immediately, the word clipped, his gaze dropping despite himself to the bare curve of your breasts, it taught him to squeeze on them and make you feel good, the soft swell of your hips, the smooth skin between your thighs where he can already see the faint shine of arousal. “you’re barely twenty-something. i’m more than twice your age. this… this is not appropriate.”
you tilt your head slightly, still standing naked and unashamed in front of him, the tension so thick it feels like the air itself has weight. “and yet you’re standing here with your cock so hard i can see it twitching through your jeans,” you murmur, eyes flicking down pointedly to the obvious bulge. “you’ve been avoiding me all week, nanami-san, but you still came over the second i knocked. tell me again how inappropriate this is.”
caught him red handed. fuck you.
he lets out another low groan, the sound vibrating in his chest, his hand coming up like he might push you away but instead hovering just above your waist, fingers trembling with restraint. “you have no idea what you’re asking for,” he says, voice quieter now, almost pained. “i’m not some young man who can just… give in without consequences. you deserve better than an older neighbor who can’t keep his eyes off you.”
the banter stretches, slow and heavy, every word laced with the electric pull between you. you step even closer, your bare breasts brushing the front of his white shirt, nipples dragging against the fabric, and nanami’s breath hitches sharply. “then why does it feel like you’ve been thinking about this as much as i have?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper. “why do you look at me like you want to bend me over every time we pass in the hall?”
his jaw clenches, the muscle ticking visibly, but his eyes stay locked on yours even as his cock continues to throb between you.
“because i do,” he admits finally, the words dragged out like they cost him something. “i want to. more than i should. but you’re young. barely out of college. and i’m… this.” he gestures vaguely at himself, the musty yet cleaned scent of his body stronger now with the heat rising off his skin, the faint sweat dampening the collar of his shirt. “a tired man who should know better.”
you smile again, softer this time, and reach up to trace one finger along the line of his jaw. “then stop fighting it for one night,” you whisper. “just let yourself have me. i want you, nanami. i’ve wanted you since the first time you fixed my router and looked at me like you were starving.”
the silence stretches again, thick and humming with tension, his breath coming heavier now, chest rising and falling against yours. his hand finally settles on your waist, large palm warm and slightly rough against your bare skin, thumb stroking once, slow and deliberate.
he does not pull you closer yet, but he does not push you away either. the battle is still there in his eyes, solemn and conflicted, but the hunger is winning, inch by aching inch, as the minutes tick by in the quiet room and his cock continues to strain painfully against his jeans, waiting for the moment his restraint finally gives out completely.
nanami’s hand tightens on your waist, fingers spanning wide enough to nearly wrap around the curve of it, and the last of his resistance crumbles like dry paper under the heat of your bare skin against his palm.
he exhales once, long and shaky, eyes still calculated but dark now with the kind of hunger he has been trying to bury for weeks, and then he is moving, guiding you backward until the backs of your knees hit the couch and you sink down onto the cushions. he follows without a word, dropping to his knees between your spread thighs like a man who has finally stopped pretending he can walk away.
his broad shoulders push your legs wider, the white button-up stretching tight across his chest as he leans in, breath hot against the inside of your thigh. he looks up at you one last time, jaw set, like he is giving you one final chance to tell him no, but you only slide your fingers into his neatly combed hair and tug him closer. that is all it takes.
his mouth finds your pussy like he has been starving for it, lips parting to drag a slow, broad stripe up your folds, tongue flat and heavy as he tastes you properly for the first time. the groan that vibrates out of his chest is low and rough, almost pained, because you are already soaked, slick coating his tongue in a way that makes his cock jerk hard inside his jeans.
he licks again, slower this time, savoring the way your thighs tremble on either side of his head, then seals his mouth around your clit and sucks gently, tongue flicking in tight little circles that have your back arching off the couch. one of his huge hands slides up your stomach, palm pressing flat just below your navel, and he pushes down with just enough pressure to make your pussy clench around nothing.
the size of his hand there is obscene, fingers spread wide so his pinky rests near the base of your ribs and his thumb brushes the top of your mound, the sheer scale of him against your smaller frame making everything feel tighter, hotter, more overwhelming.
nanami eats you out like he has all night and nothing else matters, tongue sliding deep between your folds before circling back up to your clit, sucking and licking in a rhythm that builds slow and relentless. his free hand grips your thigh, spreading you even wider, thumb digging into the soft flesh while he buries his face deeper, nose pressing against your mound as he drinks down every drop of you. the wet sounds fill the quiet room, wet and loud, his groans mixing with the slick slide of his tongue and the shaky breaths you keep letting out.
he keeps that steady pressure on your lower belly the whole time, palm rubbing slow circles that make your insides twist and flutter, the tummy bullying so deliberate it feels like he is trying to feel exactly where his mouth is working from the inside. your hips twitch, trying to ride his face, but he holds you down with that big hand, keeping you exactly where he wants you while he pushes you closer and closer to the edge.
when you come it hits hard and sudden, pussy pulsing against his tongue as your thighs clamp around his head and a broken moan spills out of you. nanami does not stop. he keeps licking you through it, slower now but just as thorough, tongue dragging over your oversensitive clit until your whole body jerks and you try to squirm away from the intensity.
he only presses his palm firmer against your stomach, holding you in place, the slight overstimulation making your eyes water and your voice crack on his name. “nanami…plea– fuck, it’s too much,” you whimper, but he just hums against you, the vibration sending another sharp spark through your core, and slides two thick fingers into your still-clenching pussy without warning. they stretch you wide, the size of them so much bigger than your own that you feel every knuckle, every ridge, as he curls them deep and starts pumping slow and steady.
he lifts his head just enough to watch his fingers disappear inside you, eyes dark and tempting, lips shiny with your slick. “look at how well you take them,” he murmurs, voice gravel-rough, the praise low and almost reverent as he presses down on your belly again with his other hand, feeling the way his fingers create a very faint bulge against your walls from the outside.
the pressure makes everything tighter, more intense, and you clench hard around him, another wave of overstimulation crashing through you while he keeps fingering you through the aftershocks. his thumb finds your clit, rubbing slow circles that have you shaking, the combination of his thick fingers stretching you open and the firm press on your tummy turning every breath into a broken little sob.
he does not rush. he just keeps working you, long fingers dragging along that perfect spot inside while his palm rubs steady circles on your stomach, bullying that soft lower belly until you are dripping down his wrist and whimpering his name like it will make it better than it already is.
only when your thighs are trembling uncontrollably and your pussy is fluttering helplessly around his fingers does he finally ease up, sliding them out slow and careful, bringing them to his mouth to lick clean with a low groan that makes your stomach flip.
he stays on his knees between your legs for a long moment, forehead resting against your thigh, breathing hard while his cock strains painfully against his jeans, the front of the fabric dark with pre-cum. when he finally looks up at you his eyes are still determined, still carrying that quiet conflict, but the hunger has won completely now, and the way he stares at your flushed, marked body makes it clear he is nowhere near done with you tonight.
nanami stays on his knees between your spread thighs for another long, heavy breath, forehead pressed to the soft skin just above your knee while his chest rises and falls like he is trying to steady something inside himself that already broke minutes ago. his fingers are still shiny with you, the faint scent of his skin mixed with the sharp sweetness of your pussy hanging thick in the air.
when he finally moves it is slow and deliberate, like every motion costs him something. he rises to his full height, towering over you on the couch, white button-up wrinkled and damp at the collar from the heat rolling off both of you. his hands, large and steady, slide under your thighs and around your back in one smooth motion, scooping you up off the cushions like you weigh nothing at all.
your legs wrap around his slim waist on instinct, heels digging into the firm muscle of his lower back, and the sudden shift leaves you gasping against his shoulder because he lifts you so easily, strong arms locking you against his chest while your bare pussy hovers right above the heavy bulge still trapped in his jeans.
he does not give you time to look down. one arm stays banded tight under your ass, holding your weight like it is effortless, while his free hand works between your bodies to unbuckle his belt with a quiet metallic clink. the zipper follows, the sound loud in the quiet room, and he shoves both jeans and briefs down just enough to free himself.
you feel the thick, heavy length spring up against your inner thigh, hot and velvet-smooth, the blunt mushroom head already slick and leaking. before you can even tilt your head to catch a glimpse he shifts you higher in his arms, pressing your back against the nearest wall for leverage, and uses that same free hand to guide the fat head of his cock right to your dripping entrance.
the broad tip nudges through your folds, rubbing slow and deliberate, coating himself in your slick while he watches your face with those solemn dark eyes, brows knitted tight like he is still fighting the last scraps of restraint.
“breathe,” he mutters, voice low and rough, the single word almost gentle even as his hips tilt forward. he helps you sink down, one thick inch at a time, the stretch burning so good it makes your jaw go slack and your eyes flutter half-shut.
he is big, thicker than anything you have taken, the veined shaft dragging along your walls as he lowers you steadily until your ass meets his hips and he is buried to the hilt. a quiet groan tears from his throat when he bottoms out, the sound vibrating through his chest into yours, and for a long second he just holds you there, letting you feel every inch of him pulsing deep inside your smaller body.
you’re pressed and folded in an awkward position, and it only makes the size difference feel more obscene, your soft curves dwarfed by his tall, solid frame.
nanami does not wait long. his hands grip your ass harder, fingers digging into the soft flesh, and he starts to move, lifting you up and dropping you back down onto his cock with controlled, powerful strokes that hammer into you deep enough to punch the air from your lungs. each thrust makes your whole body jolt in his arms, tits bouncing under nothing. bare and free for him to watch, back sliding against the wall while he fucks up into you like he has been imagining it for weeks.
his height towers over you completely, shoulders broad enough to block out the room, white shirt straining across his chest with every roll of his hips.
the mushroom head of his cock drags perfectly along that spot inside you on every downstroke, the sheer size of him making your belly bulge slightly every time he bottoms out, a faint outline visible under your skin if you looked down, but he keeps your face buried against his neck so you cannot.
he keeps that steady, punishing rhythm, hips snapping up hard while his arms hold you suspended like you are weightless, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing louder with every thrust. sweat beads along his hairline, dampening the collar of his shirt, and his breath comes in hot, measured pants against your ear.
“too big for you?” he asks, voice strained but still carrying that solemn edge, even as he grinds deep and holds you there for a heartbeat, letting you feel how completely he fills you.
your only answer is a broken moan and loled nod, nails digging into his shoulders through his shirt, legs tightening around his waist as another wave of overstimulation starts building fast. he does not slow down. he just keeps lifting and dropping you onto every thick inch, eyebrows still knitted in concentration, eyes flicking between your slack mouth and the way your body takes him so greedily.
his shirt keeps getting in the way, bunching up between both of you, so he shifts his grip, one hand sliding up to yank the fabric higher until it is completely off of him, exposing his sweaty chest completely to the cool air and your half-focused stare.
now there is nothing between you but sweat-slick skin and the relentless drag of his cock stretching you open. he leans in, mouth finding your neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin while he hammers into you harder, the angle shifting so the head of his cock bullies that perfect spot with every upward thrust. your smaller frame jolts in his arms with each powerful stroke, pussy clenching tight around the thick length splitting you apart, and nanami groans low and deep, the sound rumbling through his chest as he feels you start to flutter around him again.
he keeps you pinned against the wall like that, towering over you, strong arms never tiring as he fucks you deep and steady, the size difference so stark it makes your head spin. every time he bottoms out his hips grind against your clit, the pressure on your lower belly from the inside making everything feel tighter, fuller, more overwhelming.
you are already close again, thighs shaking around his waist, voice cracking on his name, and nanami just holds you there, determined eyes locked on your face while he drives you closer to the edge with every heavy thrust, determined to feel you come around his cock before he lets himself follow.
nanami’s rhythm starts to falter just a little, hips snapping up with shorter, more desperate strokes while his breath comes hot and ragged against the side of your neck. he can feel it building fast, that tight coil low in his gut, his heavy balls drawing up tight and aching as your pussy flutters and squeezes around every thick inch of him.
but he refuses to let go first. he is older, more controlled, and right now that control means making sure you fall apart completely before he does.
with a low grunt he shifts his grip, one big hand sliding under your ass to tilt your hips forward while the other presses flat against your lower back, forcing your spine into a deep arch that pushes your pelvis out and opens you up even more obscenely. the new angle is nasty, almost cruel, your body folded and suspended in his arms so your clit grinds hard against the base of his cock on every upward thrust and the fat head of him drags directly into that spongy spot inside you at a brutal upward curve.
your legs dangle wider, heels kicking uselessly against his lower back, the sheer size difference making you feel like you are being split open and rearranged from the inside while he holds you like a toy.
he starts hammering into you with that filthy new angle, cock bullying that spot over and over until your eyes roll back and broken sobs start spilling from your slack mouth.
the overstimulation crashes in hard and fast, your already sensitive pussy clenching and spasming around him while tears prick at the corners of your eyes and start to slip down your flushed cheeks.
your hand flies down between your bodies on instinct, palm pushing weakly at his lower stomach like you can stop the relentless drag of his cock, fingers scrabbling against the damp fabric of his white shirt. nanami’s eyes narrow, jaw tightening, and he leans in close, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he hisses the words low and dark, “do that again and i’ll fucking hurt you good.”
the threat hits you like a live wire. your whole body seizes, a choked cry tearing from your throat, and then you are squirting hard around his cock, hot fluid gushing out in messy pulses that soak his jeans, drip down his balls, and splatter onto the floor beneath you.
nanami groans deep and filthy at the feeling, the wet heat flooding around him making his cock twitch violently inside you. he does not slow down. if anything he fucks you harder, hips snapping up with wet, punishing slaps while his free hand slides between your bodies and starts tracing tight, relentless infinity signs over your swollen clit with two thick fingers. the pressure is mean and perfect, circling and dragging in that figure-eight pattern while he keeps pounding into that nasty folded angle, cock bullying your g-spot and his fingers never letting up on your overstimulated clit.
“i know, baby, i know,” he rasps against your ear, voice hoarse and strained, the words almost soothing even as he wrecks you. “you can take it. just let it happen.” your legs shake violently around his waist, tears streaming freely now, little hiccuping sobs mixing with the wet squelch of your pussy taking every brutal thrust.
nanami keeps that freaky rhythm going, hips rolling deep, fingers drawing those endless infinity loops over your clit until your vision whites out and another shattering orgasm rips through you, pussy clamping down so hard it almost forces him out. he hisses through his teeth, sweat dripping from his brow onto your chest, but he powers through it, fucking you straight through the peak and into the trembling aftershocks.
his own control finally snaps. his balls tighten almost painfully, cock swelling even thicker inside your fluttering walls as he buries himself to the hilt one last time, grinding deep while thick, hot ropes of cum flood you. he comes with a low, broken groan that vibrates through his chest, pulsing hard and endless, filling you so full that it starts leaking out around his cock in creamy white streaks every time he gives one last shallow thrust.
the mess is everywhere, your squirt and his cum dripping down your thighs, soaking the front of his jeans and pooling on the floor, the obscene wet sounds slowly fading as he keeps you pinned against the wall, still buried deep, both of you heaving for air.
nanami’s forehead drops to your shoulder, breathing hard, the last energy well spent, showing of with both of your sweat-soaked body mixing with the sharp smell of sex filling the room. his arms stay locked around you, holding your smaller frame effortlessly even as his cock twitches with the last weak spurts inside you.
for a long moment the only sounds are your shaky sobs and his ragged breathing, bodies trembling together in the aftermath, messy and spent and still connected. he does not pull out yet. he just keeps you there, suspended in his arms, the quiet weight of everything that just happened settling heavy between you while his cum continues to leak slowly out around where he is still buried deep.
nanami stays buried inside you for what feels like forever, thick cock still twitching with the last lazy pulses while warm cum slowly leaks out around where your bodies are joined, dripping down your thighs and onto the floor in messy little trails.
your legs are still wrapped around his waist, trembling, heels digging weakly into his lower back like you cannot quite let go yet, and he keeps holding you up without any effort, strong arms locked under your ass, keeping your smaller frame suspended against the wall like it is the most natural thing in the world. your shaky little sobs eventually quiet into soft, hiccuping breaths, tears drying on your cheeks, but the overstimulation still makes your pussy flutter weakly around him every few seconds, milking out another thin trickle of his cum.
finally he shifts, a low groan rumbling in his chest as he carefully pulls out, the wet sound loud and obscene in the quiet room.
a thick glob of his cum follows immediately, sliding out of your swollen, puffy pussy and running down to join the mess already pooled beneath you. he lowers you gently until your feet touch the floor, but your legs are too shaky to hold you, so he keeps one arm banded around your waist, steadying you against his chest while his other hand tucks himself back into his briefs and jeans with a quiet zip.
the white button-up is wrinkled and damp with sweat when he puts it back on, black jeans dark at the front from your squirt, but he still looks put-together in that quiet, solemn way of his, even now.
he does not say anything at first. just looks down at you with those dark, heavy eyes, thumb brushing slow circles on your bare hip like he cannot quite stop touching you. then he exhales, long and tired, and rests his forehead against yours for a brief second.
“this…” his voice comes out rough, low, almost reluctant. “this can’t happen again.”
the words hang between you, simple and final, even as his hand lingers on your skin and his cum continues to drip slowly down the inside of your thigh.
he presses one last, almost gentle kiss to your temple, the kind of kiss that feels heavier than any promise, before he steps back. his fingers flex once at his sides like he is fighting the urge to pull you close again, then he turns toward the door, shoulders straight, footsteps quiet on the floor.
“get some rest,” he murmurs without looking back, the manly scent of him still clinging to your skin. “and… call the building manager about the router next time.”
the door clicks shut behind him, leaving you standing there naked and trembling in the middle of your living room, thighs sticky, pussy aching and full of him, the quiet weight of what just happened settling deep in your chest. you know he means it. you also know, deep down, that neither of you really believes it.
well y’all i had to claw my nails onto a wall to storm this idea so it better do good or you’re not hearing from me again.. (i’m literally posting in few hours again 😛)
catboy!sukuna who is always grumpy under any circumstance. He never interacts with the other pets at the shelter, hissing and prepared to bite when another cat gets too close (gojo).
catboy!sukuna who always refuses anyone when they try to take him home with them. hissing at anyone that gets close.
catboy!sukuna who almost bites the old grandmas finger off when she sticked her finger through the square holes of his cage, attempting to touch him.
catboy!sukuna who is scared of the thunder. he slightly flinches everytime he the deep, rolling sound of it. He pretends he isn’t scared of it, but his ears are flattened and hes trembling from the aftershocks of the rumbling acoustic.
catboy!sukuna who wants to rip catboy!gojo’s shiny white fur off & destruct him into a hairless cat when he notices him practically jumping out of his skin at the the thunder.
rolling your eyes at him, snapping at him for every little thing. when he carefully suggests that you should wear a coat, “ im not a damn child i can dress myself.” you replied, voice edged with irritation. when he offered to carry your bag, scoffing in annoyance saying you were capable of handling your own things in a bratty tone. and god.. when he tried to guide you across the street, you yanked his hand out of his grasp, glaring at him as you marched ahead.
but toji wasn’t having any of that, he didn’t say anything about your stubborn tone. he just smirked to himself crossing his arms. in all honesty he found it exciting, cute how you were brave enough to act like this in public. he knew it was time to teach you a lesson for your constant disrespect.
on the drive home, he stayed silent as your ran your bitchy mouth dry of more bratty remarks towards him.
finally, inside toji turned to face you. his green eyes flashing with determination and a hint of anger. he crossed his arms with a lazy smirk on his face “done being a fuckin brat?” he said, voice low and commanding. “ what if im not?” you shot back tilting your head. a small smile tugging at the corner of your mouth.
in a swift motion he picked you up bridal style walking to the bedroom, huffing in annoyance. you squealed at his sudden move trying to pull out of his touch, but no avail. when you both arrived to the bedroom he threw you onto the bed, flipping you onto your stomach. he hurriedly tugged your pants down to your ankles, roughly squeezing the soft flesh and kneading it like fucking bread.
you whimpered into your pillow at his rough touches. as one hand continued to grip you. his lifted his other hand, striking it right on your cheek. you yelped more in pleasure than in pain. the sting tingling under his touch. “toji!” you whined scooting away from his touch, but he restrained you. putting a rough hand on your waist and slamming you back down “nuh uh. your not runnin from me, fuckin brat” he growled, landing another spank. harder and sharper. you jolted, tears streaming down your face staining into the pillow
“think yer so cute for acting up all day then wanna run from it, pathetic.” he spat, unbuckling his belt and pulling down his fly. he shimmied his pants and boxers down letting his cock spring free, slapping against his stomach. his fat head already oozing with precum.
he slid his calloused fingers down from your ass to your dripping hole rubbing his rough finger pad up and down your slick “so wet f’me already? knew you wanted this” he snarled before pushing 2 fingers in, sinking into you, curling his fingers. you whimpers and whines only made him even more riled up to break you more. he suddenly picked up the pace with the shlck shlck shlck sounds of your wet cunt.
as his digits worked into you his other hand landed another strike on your ass. you moans loud enough that the neighbors are probably pissed. legs trembling and twitching against the mattress. just as you were about to reach your high, he pulled out, yanking you by your hair and his fingers that were previously in your hole are now shoved into your mouth tasting your own fluids.
“you wanna be disrespectful” he pulled his fingers out of your warm mouth, then instead striking your ass again. his palm smacking and coming down on the curve of your ass “ill be disrespectful right the fuck back”
he positioned his cock to your fluttering hole. nudging himself in before with a nice thrust hes all the way into you. you barely had any moment to process it before hes all the way into you. driving his girthy hard length deep into your core bullying your cervix. setting a brutal punshing pace that him slamming into you with so much force it could shake the house.
he gripped your hips with bruising force as he rutted into you, fingers digging in the soft flesh. “this is what happens when you forget your place” . tears streamed down your face. your cries and moans echoing off the walls as pleasure and pain blurred together. toji’s hand drifted to your front, his fingers finding your swollen, untouched clit and rubbing in harsh circular motions
toji could tell you were getting close by the way you were clenching onto his dick. “cum f’me, brat. do it.” he grumbled in your ear. “mmph c-cumming!!” you whined. and just like that, you came, brain turning into mush practically seeing stars, legs trembling beneath him crying out his name. a few moments later a followed right after you with one brutal slam of your hips he buried himself to the hilt inside you a deep groan slipping from his lips as he threw his head back in pleasure, his hot seed planted into you painting your inside white.
for a few moments he stayed like that, softening in you and finally pulling out, gently sliding you onto your back and planting a kiss on your cheek.
“you did so well for me baby. you okay now, yeah?” you wrapped both arms around his neck nuzzling into him
cw: not proof read, sleepy written smut, irrelevant plot
Satoru was leaned back in his chair, pen tapping lazily against the spine of his notebook when he asked “Y/n, do you need help? You can come to my dorm after class.” his voice smooth and not laced with it’s usual nervous tone and tremble.
Now, you had been grasping the topic of what you were learning in class quite well actually.
But why would you, or anyone for that matter pass up on study time with Satoru? The nerd that all of the girls talked and giggled about and placed bets on who would make him blush first. Satoru smiled as he gave you his dorm number. “Be there at 8?” he said whilst writing it onto the corner of your note page. It sounded like studying, felt like something else.
Fuck, no.. Satoru would never imply that..
You were nervous and for some reason your heart was thumping, as if it wanted to escape your chest. So nervous to talk about physics with this guy? Or the thought that he may want something else. As soon as you knocked, the door swung open almost immediately.
He was not wearing a shirt. His toned stomach out for her view.
You "tried" not to stare but the view of his biceps and sharp lines in his shoulders, not to mention the v line. Made it painful. The faint flush creeping up his neck, fuck.
“Come in.” he backed away, giving her space to enter the dorm. It was how she would have imagined it. Clean. Neat. “Uh, sorry if it’s a mess.” He laughed nervously and scratched the back of his neck. “No, it’s fine, way cleaner than my room.” you expressed.
He brought her to a table and brought out their textbook “Okay so..”
blah blah blah is all you heard as he flipped through pages and his voice blurred. Until, “Do I bore you?”
Your head perked up “No! Not at all, Satoru!” He smirked “Fine, what did I just say then?"
“Fuck uh..”
Satoru laughed. “You’re cute.” That shy, anxious guy in your class seemed to be about gone. Who was this new part of Satoru? And why is it turning you on?
He leaned in and whispered into your ear “I know what you’re thinking.”
“Then what am I thinking about?” You asked.
“How much you want to see my cock.”
Right on that dot. Oh and feel it.
He kissed you, slow and deliberate, it wasn't rushed. He was seeing how much you were okay with. He pulled you closer until there was no more space.
Before you knew it , it was out and ready. And he had already carried you to his bed.
It was huge, the veins, length and gurth intimidating you. “Satoru do you think I could fit it?”
He flashed a toothy grin “Of course you can. You’re my special girl. Touch it first” The sweet name wetting you as his fingers drifted down and inched towards your entrance.
He let your finger wander around his tip as his fingers went into you.
He moved them rhythmatically, each time closer than the last and it was driving you insane “Augh..mmph, Satoru..” His fingers so good, you couldn't even focus on how his veins felt under your palms.
He laughed softly and you finally came to the movement of his fingers in you. “Doesn’t take much does it?”
You shook your head “N..No.”
“No?” His tone almost mocking as he slowly positioned himself and his cock. His hips hit yours ruthlessly
“Argh!..” Your hand grasping the bed frame as he only went harder and got closer and closer as you felt yourself on the verge, so fucking close. Tears ran down your face.
He stopped, knowing you were right there. “Huh?..”
“Ask.”
“Fuck! One more! One more!”
“Your missing a word” His voice in a singy songy type of tone.
“Please-?“
The moment the word came out of your mouth, he bashed into you one last time, making your organism immediate. “So pretty when you cum.”
You were unable to speak, even if you could , what the fuck would you say?.
The sound of the front door being opened was heard
higuruma noticed the way you kept looking at his nose.
it's been that way since you first met at the law firm. any time you talked, you'd zone out staring at his nose. it was just so.. perfect.
it was big.
and crooked.
and god it looked extra good when he wore his glasses.
when the two of you began dating, the staring problem got worse.
"darling, are you listening to me?" your eyes widened when his voice interrupted your highly erotic thoughts.
"uh, yeah. sorry."
it was blatantly obvious.
"why don't you just sit on it, love?" higuruma finally said, taking off his reading glasses. he placed them on the nightstand next to his book. you walked to his side, already in your nightgown, in which he was eyeing. fuck, did he love those things on you.
"on what, hiro?"
his hand pulled you in closer, making you straddle his lap. he sighed softly, taking you all in. you weren't wearing a bra, nipples evident under your attire. and even through his clothing, he could feel the material of your silk panties.
"y'know, my nose? know you'd like that." he murmured quietly.
you froze.
"i have no idea what you're talking about." you stuttered. you didn't need a mirror to know you were flushed. higuruma chuckled, letting his hands go up and down your torso, groping roughly.
"oh c'mon.. think I don't notice the way you stare at it?" he asks you with a low, teasing voice. "ride it baby."
-
higuruma took a long sniff of your cunt when you hovered over his face, darting his tongue out to taste you. your words died on your mouth when he placed small pecks on your clit.
"smells good."
he had you fully sat down, thighs on either side of his face. a sharp groan escaped him, vibrating throughout you. his nose poked at your clit every time you rolled your hips.
"fuck." his tongue licked long stripes between your folds.
your breathing grew heavier, quickening your pace. "hiromi.." you held onto the headboard while your free hand gripped his hair, tugging at the black locks.
his fingernails dug into your thighs, helping you grind on him. "feels good?"
"yes!" you clenched around his tongue, already feeling your orgasm building up. he inserted two fingers into your velvety walls, curling them at an angle to scrape at your g-spot.
"told you you'd like this..."
your boyfriend's face was covered in your slick. not like he minded. he continued lapping at your juices, nudging his nose harder.
"hiro!" you let out a broken sob, body quivering when you came.
higuruma slurped happily. the wet sounds almost being torture for you. when he gently pushed you off, he shoved his tongue down your throat forcing you to taste yourself.
"gotta do this more often.. haven't made you cum this hard before."
dom!nanami who... is a jealous mf and can't take his hands off of you in public. he needs everyone to know that you are his.
dom!nanami who... loves watching your eyes well up and water while you suck his dick.
dom!nanami who... chuckled at your reaction the first time you saw his cock.
"you'll adjust." with his voice draped in that serious condescending tone you hate.
dom!nanami who... adores seeing you shake beneath him, he thinks it makes you somehow more beautiful then you already are.
dom!nanami who... loves being in control but he would do let you do anything you want to him.
dom!nanami who... has a huge thing for size difference and is always trying to remind you of it. whether it comes to picking you up or standing behind you so closely that your back touches his chest.
dom!nanami who... is the absolute goat of aftercare. he takes care of you so gently and tenderly but it doesn't make you forget him pounding into you just moments ago.
a/n: i fucking love him also first time writing for jjk hi yes im new gen
Steve loved taking photos with you, he loved taking photos with everybody but especially you. You could be waking up, hair disheveled, crust still in your eyes, and he would still think you’re the most beautiful girl ever. He takes photos of you eating, picking your nose, sleeping, and with your friends. he thinks you look beautiful in all them! But, in his brown leather wallet, he has 3 photos of you, but one of them is his all-time favorite.
1 :: you two at a amusement park, steve kissing your cheek as you both wait in line for a ride. That's at the front of his wallet. Whereas most people put their id or drivers license, he has you tucked in there instead.
2 :: a photo of you eating at a restaurant that he surprised you with on valentines day. He said a sly joke that made you laugh. Shoulders convulsing as you laughed, holding a singular fry in your right hand. He thought you looked stunning, so of course he had to snap a picture on his polaroid of you. his girlfriend that he swears has no flaws ever. He has the photo in the cash compartment of the wallet.
3 :: The third one, his dearest polaroid photo he has of you that he treasures everyday. It was you with your throat full of his shaft, your nose hitting his pelvis as your eyes rolled back in ecstasy. Brows furrowed with pleasure, face marked with his cum on your chin and cheeks from his previous orgasms with his fingers tangled in your hair. the way you look so needy on his cock makes him feel lured to you. with his free hand, he reaches for his camera. The camera clicks, illuminating your face with the flash for a swift second, capturing the exact moment: eyes rolled back , brows drawn together, lips stretched wiiide around him. The image is raw, unfiltered and beautiful in its way.
Steve tucks both the polaroid and the picture away gently to the side as he began to fuck your face. Taking his inches out of you until the tip remained on your tongue and with a powerful thrust, he jammed all of him back into your throat.
His thrust became restless. sloppy when he start to get close to his high. His body tensing as pleasure coils tight in his core. The thought of that polaroid he took moments ago - of you in that moment sent him over the edge.
“f-fuck, gonna fill this throat…” he says between ragged breathes, voice dropped to the deep, heavy tone. “m’ gonna mark u as mine.”
One final thrust, his hips snap forward one final time as he comes undone. thick ropes of cum filling your throat, swallowing it all up.
few hours later back at his house, sweat sticks to his forehead as he fists his cock all wet, sticky & loud. Never taking his eyes off the polaroid he made a few hours ago. he bucks his hips up into his hands, moaning relentlessly in his room. Cumming to the picture for the ninth time.
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