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sub! sugar baby!toji x sadistic! rich! dom! younger! Male!reader

Taking your anger out by doing something productive <3

Warning: cussing, edging, rough sex, humiliation

You looked pissed. Angrier than he’d ever seen before. That business meeting must have been shitty. Toji shifted to hide the bulge in his pants, knowing you saw it. 

Your eyes focused on him with an intensity he hadn’t seen before. He shivered involuntarily and leaned back against the sofa. The sofa you’d bought him. 

God, he was hard. He knew you were a sadistic asshole, but you always had this calm demeanor over you. Your mean words were accompanied by small controlled smirks. Your control over yourself and him, left him wrecked and humiliated.

No matter how much he begged, cried or came, you wouldn’t let him go until you were sure he was done. But right now? You looked like you wanted to devour him.

He licked his lips and spread his legs, showing off the bulge in his sweatpants. Your eyes greedily traced the lines of his line. The way his shirt obscenely stretched across his chest, his small waist, and spread thighs.  

He would gladly let you.

…

He dazedly leaned against the armrest, hips involuntarily rocking, as you thrusted in him. His mind was exhausted but his cock was still hard, throbbing despite the nurumous times he came. 

A well aimed thrust, pushed a moan out his parted lip, drool slipped down his chin. 

Your hands held his hips in a brutal grip. One leg rested on your shoulder, as you roughly thrusted in his red loose hole. 

It had been hours. Hours since you shoved toys in him and made him cum, over and over. You were finally fucking him, but he couldn’t even enjoy it, too blissed out and sensitive. Each thrust sent electric current up his spine. His hoarse throat aching as soft pants, whines and moans left his mouth. 

One well placed thrust, had his body withering as he tried to escape your grasp. You pulled him back easily, continuing your brutal thrusts. 

It was pleasurable torture. 

Finally, you pressed inside him and came. His own cock pathetically spurting out cum across his chest. 

He looked up at you dazed, black strands stuck to his sweat covered forehead. Tears stains ran down his cheek, drool dripped down red bitten lips. Hickey covered skin flushed pink, cum covered his torso, and his hole dripped with your cum. 

You chuckled, dark eyes taking in the disheveled mess that you made. You reached for your suit jacket, draped it on the chair next to you and took your phone out. You held it up and took a picture of your precious blissed out sugar baby.

Toji couldn’t bring himself to care. His mind was running on nothing, and subconsciously he knew that you’d never leak the picture. He was yours and you were very possessive of the things you owned. 

He let out a small whine, giving you puppy eyes. Not that it required any effort. Laying there looking debauched, he looked effortlessly pitiful. 

As expected the sight hit your spot. You immediately moved forward, cooing soft praises as you used a tissue to wipe him up. 

Your soft touch and affectionate gaze made his body warm. Like sweet honey, or melting butter your gaze and touch settled into his skin. Your voice mumbling soft praises that he started to believe. He pleased you. He did good. He was perfect.

He settled against the pillow you tucked under his head. His eyes fluttered closed, as you pressed a kiss to his lips. 

“Sleep, baby. You did perfectly.” You cooed as you covered his naked body with a blanket. He didn’t mind. His clothes were probably dirty anyway. He let out a sigh, exhaustion pulling him into unconsciousness.

#domain reblog #this is lovely #need this in my life rn ngl #woof woof snarl bark

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i have a toji brainrot rn.

dom!male!reader (younger than toji but still an adult) wanting to fck toji (dadbod toji yum) and toji doesn't believe that reader will be able to pleasure him.

toji gets wrecked (maybe some overstimulation and squirting as well teehee) and he gets smitten and addicted. 🤭

My next door neighbour is a hot dilf??

toji fushiguro x dom top male reader

srry this took so long I took a HUGEE break from writing

listened to Katy Perry while I wrote this which may or may not have affected my writing

Warning: NSFW, dilf toji, top reader, thigh spanking, toji passes out twice, toji cries, reader gets mean i guess??

Toji, your hot dilf neighbour, the guy who lives in the apartment next to yours, he's only across the hall.

You need this man, even if it's the last fucking thing you do.

You will not give up, you will persevere and fuck the living shit out of this total dilf.

You REFUSE to give up.

So that's why you were in front of his door, looking directly up at this dilf.

"Uh, hey!" You tried to sound confident but the sweat on your palms and your nervous smile gave it away that you were, in fact, not confident.

"Ya need sum'?" Toji's deep, rough voice sent shivers down your spine. His voice was so hot, you needed to hear him moan in that voice.

"Oh, uh, yeah..." 'Quick! Think of something!' You said in your mind.

"Uh, uh- Uhm... sugar!" 'Sugar? Fucking sugar? What kind of fucking response is sugar?!'

"Sugar." Toji repeated your word.

'Shit! He probably thinks I'm crazy!'

"You need to borrow some... sugar?" Toji raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest as he looked down at you.

"Uhm... yeah." You say, wiping the sweat on your palms onto your pants as you stand there very awkwardly in the front door.

"I think I have some left... come in." Toji says as he walks into his apartment, leaving the door open for you to follow.

You nod and laugh awkwardly, following in after him and into the kitchen.

You're literally shaking from nerves, you pinch yourself to steady yourself but instead you end up letting out an, "ow!"

Toji quickly turns around with a raised eyebrow, "you okay, kid?"

You shake yourself off and nod quickly, "yup! Just, uh, stubbed my toe!"

Toji raises an eyebrow at that, he doesn't know how you stubbed your toe considering you were standing in the middle of the kitchen, not next to anything.

He just turns around and grabs a mug to collect some sugar.

"And I'm not a kid, by the way... I'm in college, I'm an adult."

"Coulda' fooled me." Toji scoffs and grabs the bag of sugar before pouring some into a mug.

"I don't look like a kid! I'm, like, average height for someone my age! A kid isn't this tall!"

Toji just looks you up and down with a smirk and hands you the mug filled with sugar.

Your cheeks turn pink when Toji looks you up and down with that sexy smirk.

"Okay, so you may not be a kid, but you're definitely a virgin. You stutter and blush every time I look at ya."

You immediately stutter again, "I most certainly am not a virgin!"

"Please, you wouldn't even know how to please a guy like me." Toji scoffs and rolls his eyes.

"First of all, I'm not a virgin, second of all, I totally would know how to!"

"Really?" Toji takes a few steps towards you, his arms crossed over his chest, "Prove it then."

Prove it?! You say in your head.

"P-Prove it?" Your brain short-circuits at that, is this seriously happening?

"You heard me."

"Oh."

Not even a second later he's grabbing your hand and leading you to his bedroom, causing you to drop the mug of sugar onto the floor, but neither of you care about that right now.

"Prove it quickly, my son's gonna be home soon." Toji sits down on the edge of the bed, looking at you expectingly.

He has a son?! He really is a dilf!!

"A-Ah, alright then..."

You take a few hesitant steps towards Toji on the bed, you've never slept with a guy this hot before, you're usually so confident in bed but this guy makes you so nervous!

"U-Uhm, I'm gonna start now..." You say shakily as you reach a hand out and drag your index finger down from Toji's chin to collarbone, brushing over his Adam's apple which surprisingly makes him shiver.

"You're so hot." You desire starts to take control, clogging your mind and blocking out all the anxiety you previously felt.

"Thanks, kid." Toji says before letting out a quiet yelp as he's pushed down onto the bed, "That was quick-"

"Stop calling me 'kid'. It's annoying."

You glare at him before gently running your hands down Toji's torso, down to his hips, giving them a squeeze.

"M' not a kid... I know what I'm doing."

"I'll believe it when I see it." Toji scoffs.

"You'll believe it soon." You say as you hook your fingers under the waistband of his grey sweatpants and pull them down along with his boxers to just below his ass.

"You're already hard, really?" You tease with a smirk before reaching a hand out to give a single pump to his cock, making Toji grunt and grit his teeth when you pull your hand back.

You crouch down to drag his pants and boxers down to his ankles before pulling them off and spreading his legs apart so you can see his hole.

"You're so goddamn hot." You practically drool as you sit on your knees, your hands placed firmly on the insides of his thighs to spread his legs apart as you bring your head close to lick his hole.

When you see Toji's pleased reaction you keep going, licking and fingering him open until you deem him ready enough to take your cock.

You stand up again and unzip your jeans, pulling your pants and boxers down just enough to let your cock spring free.

"Jesus, you've actually got a big dick." Now it's Toji's turn to feel flustered when he sees your cock in all it's glory.

"You'll be even more impressed once it's actually inside you."

You smirk and grip the underside of Toji's left thigh, you push it back and use your other hand to grab your dick, slapping it against Toji's hole a few times, making the man squirm.

"You gonna put it in or wha' Ah!" Toji's eyes widen and he groans as you press the tip in.

"For an old guy you're hella tight..." You grunt and slowly push the rest of your length in. Once you're all the way in you give it a minute for Toji to adjust before you start slowly moving.

You thrust in and out slowly. brushing against his prostate each time you thrust back in.

Toji lets out a long string of moans and grunts as you move back and forth, in and out. "J-Jesus... y-you actually know what y-you're doing, h-huh?" Toji can't help but smile in ecstasy as you speed up your thrusts, "Hhholy shit-!"

Toji groans and grips the bed sheets tightly, his knuckles turning white.

"Haah, ffuck!" You moan and grab onto his hips tightly as you speed up, getting faster with each thrust.

"Oh, fuck!" Toji squeezes his eyes shut, a few tears falling down the side of his face from pure pleasure.

Toji can't believe how fast it happens, but he cums almost instantly, he blacks out for a moment until he comes back to his senses when he feels a hard smack on his thigh.

He yelps and opens his eyes, immediately moaning again once he sees you're still fucking him.

"Y-You're still g-going?"

You spank his thigh again, "I haven't even cum yet."

You groan and throw your head back, you're still gripping his hips tightly, he's sure to be bruised by now.

Toji feels as though this has gone on forever, when it's only been fifteen minutes since you started, but to him it's felt like an eternity with how many times he's came.

Toji cums again and again, he's crying at this point but he doesn't dare ask you to stop.

It's not for another twenty minutes later till you cum, Toji sees stars when it finally happens, he cums so hard he blacks out, falling limp on the bed.

You come back to your senses and immediately freak out, "Toji?!"

You look down at him worriedly, when you see that he's breathing you calm down, you have no idea what to do so you do what any normal person would do.

You pull your pants back up and walk out of the room, quietly shutting it behind you.

You walk to the front door and open it only to see a teenage boy who's about to open the door.

You immediately stop in your tracks and have no idea what to say, you just quietly step outside and past the kid, the kid eyeing you warily.

"Uhm... you Toji's kid?" You ask awkwardly.

"Yeah... I'm Megumi..." The kid, or Megumi, says, still glaring at you.

"Uhm, maybe don't go into your dad's room for a while..." Is all you say before you run away, back into your apartment.

"What a weirdo..." Megumi says out loud to himself before walking inside.

#domain reblog #arf arf snarl #bark abrk #growl

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Gosh this is embarrassing but can I request megumi x male reader x mahoraga smut

Megumi is getting the ever living shit fucked out of him and reader makes him summon mahoraga to help finish him off

It's OK if you don't want to do it

So sorry it took so long to get this out! I wasn't sure how I wanted this to go but I hope this is ok!

Megumi Fushiguro x Male Reader

This was a bad idea. You knew that. He knew that. Anyone who had common sense would know it. So why the hell would you be in this situation?

Megumi fought with his consciousness as he feels you pounding into him. His pretty porcelain face was squished against the dirty brick wall of an abandoned public bathroom. Unfocused eyes stare at the doorway, hoping, praying, that no one would walk in. He's brought back to reality as he feels your hand snake around his neck and your pelvis resting against his.

"What's wrong, baby? Too fucked up to speak anymore?" You chuckled in his ear before placing a kiss on his shoulder. The other man shuttered at your voice, tightening around you. Megumi tried to speak, only for a jumbled up mess to be heard, making you laugh. You push your chest against Megumi's back, your grip on his neck tightening and your other hand resting on his hip.

"If you can summon Mahoraga, I'll let you cum!" You suggest to the other man's ear, only meaning it as a joke. To your surprise, Megumi pushed his hips back to try and feel more of you. "Promise?..." A quiet moan echos through the empty building, almost causing you to spill inside the other man. How could you possibly refuse your lover when his back was arched so deliciously?

As you place another kiss on Megumi's shoulder and give a small experimental thrust you watch in amusement as you see trembling arms slowly move into a recognizable position. Did he think you were serious?

Your eyes widened at the movement. Quickly, you released Megumi's neck and hip, using your hands to now grab hold of his arms. You hold his arms behind his back while furiously thrusting into the other man, causing him to cry out into the wall.

"Damn it, Megumi! You'd do just about anything to cum, huh?!" Your groan into Megumi's ear, watching as his head falls behind. His mouth was open with a small brainless smile on his face. Drool pooled in the corner of his lips, only encouraging you to keep going. "Fuck! Yes~ ngh~ Please!" Megumi shouts , his legs trembling, struggling to keep him up.

After a few powerful thrusts, Megumi's eyes shoot open and a silent scream leaves his lips. He tightened around your cock as his body spasms against your own. You let go of his arm, wrapping your own around Megumi's chest to keep him up. "Atta boy~" You chuckle as you notice the wet stain on the wall.

#domain reblog

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Mentions - Breeding, punishment(s), edging, stomach bulging, death of others, two cocks, stretching out, FTM!Reader, degradation(Slut, Whore, Etc.), a bit of pregnancy mentioned at the end??

AAAAH!! This is my first fan fic I really hope you guys enjoy!! This isn’t going to be as good but I’ll get better writing over time TRUST!!!!(^o^) if you want me to write anything please do LMK!!

More.

“M-my lord.” You whimpered out just barely being able to speak properly..he was fucking you stupid. quite literally.. You were planted down on both of his cocks as he then spoke in his usual cold unbothered tone but with a hint of desire. “What is it?” One of Sukunas many hands grasped your chin forcing you to look at him, he did that smile you loved so much. That evil grin showing off his sharp fangs..those beautiful blood moon colored eyes piercing at you whilst him fucking you in front of his servants like there wasn’t a care in the world, “please..it’s sho..b..big..! I don’t think I— haagh! Knghh! And they’re watching it’s so..embarrassing!!..” you moaned out, He then spoke once again but glaring at you..”Let them watch, I want them to know you belong to me.” He thrusted one more final time as he then stopped moving his hips having you sit on his cocks, making you feel the warmth and length of them. They were so fucking big..you didn’t know how much more your little cunt could take at this point, you just wanted him to fuck and cum inside you, you squirmed and wiggled your hips around trying to feel his cocks at least move inside you..this was torture.

He’d fuck you then stop, fuck you and stop. Right before your climax..it was so mean. But a whore like you deserves it. He smacked your cunt you then gasped out feeling his two cocks go deeper into your womb you swore he was going to tear you in half if he kept going at this rate.. but that doesn’t matter, you are there to server him, satisfy his needs, he’s your master. Your god. Everything, you will do something even if you don’t want too, after he just wanted to help his poor little servant slut.. after he caught you in your room fucking yourself dumb with a 9 inch thick dildo. “You can take it, you will take it. Now spread your legs for me, pet..” he whispered in your ear as he began to pump his hot throbbing cocks into your warm heat. You spread your legs more as you then felt two of his big hands force your legs to open even more, he was so big..at least 10 inches maybe even 12, a bulge formed on your stomach going in and out from how deep he was inside your wet cunt. He thrusted his cocks in and out at a fast pace but purposely avoiding your g-spot, he wasn’t about to hit it just yet. After all you were a bad boy who needed to learn his place.

Precum slightly coating your tight gummy walls. It felt like lube but it still hurts from how much he’s stretching you out with his cocks alone..he didn’t prep you. Just shoved them in. After all that’s what you deserve. He fucked you at such high and fast paces..the thrusts were so hard against your g-spot you were fucking melting at this point. Your sweet little moans turned into screams. Screaming his name as you were being bounced on his cocks..you could feel every vein, every inch..all of it. His cocks were so warm inside that wet tight cunt. You loved it. He knew you did, that’s why he did it. His groans were like music to your ears you just wanted him to feel good..you were just about to cum as you then moaned out, “‘Kuna! Oh my gawd~!..yes fuck fuck fuck… yes fuck me right there..AH! CUM IN ME~!” You were spouting that shit out like a dumb slut drunk on your masters cocks. He let out a few more harsh thrusts as he then cummed inside of you. You came along with him..both of you liquids mixing together, he kept his cocks inside your heat to his cum inside of you.

The mouth on his stomach then began lickin’ up the cum off your thighs and cunt..it then licked and nibbled on your clit. You gasped in surprise..you were a mess. A slutty mess..cumming on your masters cocks like you had no shame. Your eyes then rolled to the back of your skull, your lips slowly parting open as you let out weak pathetic moans…drool came out of your mouth. Disgusting. But Sukuna didn’t care, you were his after all and he didn’t care what you looked like at this moment, he just knew he wanted to fuck that naughty fucking brat of his. As loyal as you were to him he still viewed you as a nasty slut who just wants his tight cunt fucked until he blacks out. That’s the type of man you are for him, you convince yourself you only serve him because that’s your duty, your role in life. But no.. that’s not the case. You’re a dirty fucking whore who wants to sit on his cocks and allow his servants to watch the both of you fuck. There are other punishments like he makes you watch him fuck and cum into other women or men, doesn’t matter. He does it to make you not misbehave again. He then kills them off after though..he wouldn’t really keep them alive as he wouldn’t want them knowing about his little ‘alone time’ he had with you. He gives his servants a little show as he kills them off right after he’s fucked you..that’s just how he is. He claims what’s his, and you’re his. And he’s yours. “S’much..of ‘Kuna’s cum..Mmph..wanna carry..your..kids..”

you mumbled out to him, your head laying on his chest as your whole body was up against him. You were too weak to move as obviously you could barely form words. “Oh? You want to carry my heirs? Do you think you’re good enough for that.” Sukuna asked you, looking down at your limp body that slightly twitched from the cold air hitting your bare body. “I..I wanna try..please..” you pleaded with him softly sniffling, you wanted his children even if he didn’t love you like you loved him, you just wanted him so bad. “So be it..” he then leaned down a bit as he came a bit more inside you letting it all travel inside your womb..from the amount of cum he’d put inside you, you then blacked out onto him, you were out of energy to keep your eyes open or even stay awake. you’d sure be pregnant by tomorrow morning..but that’s what you wanted right? To hold your masters heir.

#domain reblog

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Loved the Sukuna post. Now... Hear me out...

Bottom Sukuna..

male reader..

some nsfw and sfw hcs

Bottom!Sukuna x Male reader

A/N : ANON I LOVE YOUR BRAIN (the sfw is just more domestic headcanons, I love making big scary mean men domesticated 😁😁😏😏)

A/N : I might have been listening to flesh by Simon Curtis while cooking up the nsfw part

WARNINGS : OOC!Sukuna / Power bottom!Sukuna / Top!reader / a lot of kinky shit / mentions slapping / choking / knife knife / blood play

This man will not show an ounce of submission in public

However remember when I said he loves for you to trace the marks on him. When he is super relaxed a slight pur can be heard. (I HEAD CANON THAT HE PURRS JUST HEAR ME OUT PLEASE. I BEGGING YOU)

However it's not loud and can only be heard when he speaks but you can feel it. Low rumbles in his chest

If you have any hobbies he would act so uninterested but he is full of shit

He would slyly ask about them and take note of them

Only trusts uraume alone with you

Finds everything you watch fucking stupid and boring. He would literally groan anytime you put something on. Would he sit down and watch with you…….yes but will he complain for a bit…..of course he would

Like I said previously he is a pretty good cook but if you are even better than him he would just watch you cook. There is something captivating about you being focused and concentrated. (He will probably get in the mood for some fun 😏)

NSFW

For him to even consider you topping him would take alot of convincing. "You topping me? Do you view me as some type of weakling" He would laugh loudly in your face

Before you get to chance to top him you have to prove to him that you can take him. That you can handle him.

So that means an all night session with him. He will ruin you all night and if you pass then you will get the glorious victory.

Let's just say he was shocked when you succeeded. He tried everything to make you tap out but nothing seem to work.

POWER!BOTTOM

He wants you to FUCK him.

He wants you to treat him like he does you, well at least try to

"Don't go gently with me now. I'm not weak , I can fucking take it"

When you finally gripped his hips and started to pound into him he would let out a manic laugh. It startled you a little bit but you carried on

"There you go fuck me like a strong man"

When he tops you he mostly groans but when you fuck him for the first time he literally growls and grits his teeth

He can not let your hear how good you are making him feel

But you will feel it

Ooooooh lord God help you because he will leave SCRATCHES on your back, anywhere

He will dig his nails into any part of your skin so please have antibiotic ointment on hand. Love watching the blood trickle from were his nails have been. Will lick your blood

DO NOT TEASE HIM OR TIE HIM UP because if you do that just means hell when he tops you again

When I say treat him like he does you, slap him, fuck his throat, overestimate him, choke him, bite him. Everything be ROUGH

AND I MEAN CHOKE HIM, this psychotic mother fucker would smile while his lungs aren’t getting air

Slap his face, thighs, ass everything. He lives for the stings

The only time he would beg you while bottoming is for you to sit on his face or to cum in his throat

Put a knife to his throat as you pound into him, he would think you are the sexiest thing to ever walk the earth

Maybe even cut him a little bit , collect his blood on your fingers and shove them in his mouth 😏😏

CAN LAST ALL NIGHT, you will probably run out of energy before does so could luck

I want to give him the most coma inducing diabolical earth shaking galaxy destroying supernova creating backshots. 🤸‍♂️🤸‍♂️

#domain reblog

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— SUCH A SWEET BOY <3

Choso Kamo x Trans Male Y/N || Content Warnings: minor writing smut, nsfw, reposted off my old account (@ballsinyojaws2000), bondage, overstimulation, gags, grinding, hickeys, nipple play, riding, creampie, edging, domtop y/n & subbot choso, rest of writing under cut || Word Count: 1,277 || Followers When Posted: 36 ||Author's Note: very sleepy when posted

ALBUM ENTRY!: Sweet boy Choso wants to cum so bad! But in the end, only good boys get to cum, right?~ He's been edged for so long, he deserves a reward! And you're gonna give it to him. WYOVVIA 2024!

Choso has been tied up for what feels like forever now. He was completely naked as his wrists were tied together and attached to the headboard, his ankles were also tied together, and on top of that there was a fucking ball gag in his mouth. It was all so humiliating. Because of the gag, there’s drool dripping down his chin from the corners of his mouth. [Y/N] has been teasing him for so long, not even letting him get close to cumming. 

[Y/N] was sitting next to him while sucking on Choso’s neck and chest while occasionally biting every now and then. Finally, after so long of the fucking teasing torture, [Y/N] straddles his waist and starts grinding his wet cunt on top of Choso's cock. Choso groans loudly, his hips bucking upward instinctively as [Y/N]'s wet pussy rubs against his sensitive tip. The warmth of [Y/N]'s body engulfs him, and the smell of their arousal fills the air around them.

He gasps for breath, his chest rising and falling rapidly. His cock twitches violently inside him, leaking copious amounts of precum onto [Y/N]'s cunt lips. Despite knowing better, he can't help but beg for more. [Y/N]'s warm cunt clenches a little bit as [Y/N] slowly lowers himself on Choso's cock. When [Y/N] is fully lowered on his dick and their hips are pressed together, [Y/N] doesn't move or start riding him. 

His hands make their way up to Choso's nipples and start teasing and flicking his one nipple as [Y/N] sucks on the other. [Y/N] was fucking cockwarming him while touching his nipples. Choso just wanted him to stop teasing and just fucking ride him, jerk him off, finger him, anything. Choso's eyes were wide with both pleasure and discomfort, with his body trembling in anticipation. His cock throbs wildly inside [Y/N]'s tight pussy, begging for more. Each breath felt like a tiny slice of heaven as [Y/N]'s hot mouth sucks on one nipple while teasing the other. He bites down hard on his gag, fighting the urge to beg for more. 

The combination of pain and pleasure is driving him insane, making it nearly impossible to think straight. His cum threatens to erupt at any moment, but he knows better than to waste such a precious gift on anything less than perfect. 

[Y/N] pulls off of his chest and then kisses his neck once before taking off the gag. There's drool dripping down Choso's chin. "What do you want?" Choso's voice came out hoarse and strained, "Please, [Y/N]... I-I want you to ride me... Make me cum inside you." His words were barely audible above the sounds of their heavy breathing and the faint wet slapping of their bodies moving together. 

[Y/N] then picks himself up and starts riding Choso fast and hard as his wet cunt clenches around Choso's dick. Choso's eyes widen in pure ecstasy as [Y/N] finally starts moving, his cock being stimulated relentlessly by the tight grip of [Y/N]'s pussy. He arches his back upwards, thrusting his hips forward in sync with each powerful stroke. His balls tighten up, preparing for imminent release. His moans echo through the room, filling every corner with their shared erotic energy. Sweat drips down Choso’s body, painting a messy canvas across his chest and stomach. Despite knowing better, he can't hold back much longer. Just when he’s about to cum, [Y/N] stops all of his movement on Choso’s cock. 

Choso starts tearing up. He was so fucking close, why didn’t [Y/N] let him cum? [Y/N] shushes him and wipes his tears gently. "Just one time... it'll feel better once you finally cum." Choso whimpered softly, his body trembled with the need to release. He'd never felt this close before, and it was driving him crazy. 

His chest heaved heavily as he tried to catch his breath. He looked pleadingly at [Y/N], pleading for just a moment of release. The anticipation was killing him, but he knew better than to beg too much. 

[Y/N] waits for Choso to get far away from release again before [Y/N] finally starts riding him again. [Y/N] was practically slamming his hips and body down on Choso's cock this time. Choso's body tensed up, his cock throbbing violently inside [Y/N]'s tight pussy. He knew this was it; he was close again. 

His hands clutched tightly at the sheets beneath him, nails digging into the fabric as he braced himself for what was coming. A scream burst forth from his throat as his entire being convulsed in pure ecstasy. Wave after wave of unstoppable orgasmic pleasure washed over him as hot thick streams of cum shot out of his cock, coating [Y/N]'s insides with his seed. Even though Choso came, [Y/N] didn't stop riding him. [Y/N] was overstimulating his cock until he was able to cum also. 

Choso's body shook with the intensity of his orgasm, his vision blurring briefly as he struggled to regain control. His cock twitched and throbbed inside [Y/N]'s wet pussy, leaking copious amounts of cum onto their entwined bodies. As for [Y/N], he rode Choso relentlessly, their powerful hips slamming together in sync as they both reached their climaxes. Their shared moans filled the room, mixing together in a symphony of raw desire and unbridled passion. 

"We're not done yet. You thought just because you came means that I'm gonna stop? Wrong. We aren't stopping until I say we are." [Y/N] continues his movements up and down repeatedly. [Y/N] leans forward and presses a kiss on Choso's lips before starting to make out with him as [Y/N]'s cunt starts to squeeze Choso's dick slightly. [Y/N] was getting close. 

Choso's body shook with exhaustion and pleasure, his mind reeling from the intense sensations coursing through him. Despite feeling drained, he knew there was no way he could resist [Y/N]'s relentless assault on his senses. He moaned into the kiss, his tongue dancing with [Y/N]'s as they shared their mutual desire. 

His cock twitched inside [Y/N]'s tight cunt, throbbing in sync with each powerful thrust. He could feel another orgasm building up inside him again, but he knew it wouldn't be long before [Y/N] would finally let him find release. As [Y/N] continued to ride him, [Y/N]'s moans got louder. Choso cums again, and right after that, [Y/N]'s cunt squeezes him and practically starts milking his dick as [Y/N] finally cums. The feeling of [Y/N]'s pussy squeezing him almost sent him to yet another orgasm even though he just came. Choso's body convulsed violently once more, his entire being trembling with the sheer force of his orgasm. Another hot torrent of cum shot out of his cock, coating [Y/N]'s insides even more than before. 

His vision spun wildly, and he lost consciousness briefly. When he came to, [Y/N] was lying beside him panting heavily, their bodies covered in sweat and their faces flushed with exhaustion. A small smile played on [Y/N]'s lips as they looked down at him, satisfaction evident in their eyes. "T-That was... amazing." Choso managed to croak out between ragged breaths. "Thank you, Master..." 

"H-Hahh... You did such a good job..." [Y/N] kisses him on the lips again before [Y/N] lifts his hips and Choso's cock gets pulled out of [Y/N]'s cunt. Choso's cock twitched and throbbed in the air, dripping with their combined fluids. His body felt heavy and exhausted, his muscles aching from the intense ride they had just shared. He closed his eyes, relishing in the aftermath of their intense encounter. A small smile crept onto his lips as he thought about how lucky he was to be with someone like [Y/N] who could push him to such new heights of pleasure.

#domain reblog #biting the bars of my enclosure

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holy shit what about a yandere sub gojo who’s popular and a playboy. like everyone wants him and he’s just being worshipped by them. But, he’s such a creepy fuck to reader, always looking and stalking them. just make him creepy asf

real tho. not even into jjk like that but... gotta share this with your fellow jjk fans. please heed my pinned post, this might be a one time thing, i am already as slow getting these out as it is lolz.,,,

ㅡyan creep "playboy" gojo satoru........

both amab,, cw;; manipulation, nc touching, stalkin, jerkin it, overall a fucking creep

ㅡi feel so embarrassed writing for this guy,,, his blue eyes startle me immensely. intimidating !!

sub creep gojo, a playboy... observing, rather than making the moves like one would think. watching, studying you... stealing all your fucking miscellaneous shit... every so often stealing something of value - mere clothes is all. just to hold n cuddle into ... nothing too perverted. friends, obviously noticing where his stare would flit to, giving him the confidence he needed ! ooc, a little... but imagining this guy as shy to befriend you but still perving on you is a lovely thought imo

sub creep gojo who,,, touches on you once he gets the confidence. accidentally, of course. hes so clumsy, right??? hey, dont glare at him... really, it was an accident. you just got too close to him-!! "ouh, whoops." snickering, playing it cool as he holds his hands up in defense as he brushed his groin against your ass - merely walking too close n getting a whiff of your natural aroma...,,, totally not weird. you dont hold it against him as he wanted - wanting you to make a fucking mess of him and humilate him,,, but it seems ur just a little too... stoic about it. hmph. popping up literally everywhere you are out in publicㅡhey, hes not following you, just happen to be in the same area, silly.. dont get so big headed that the playboy is getting so close to you !

sub creep gojo... in his own time, all alone in his room. pervs on you to the max. simply. riding a fat fucking dildo that he knows cant compare to the real thing, having to jerk off while huffing one of ur shirts held to his nose - reminiscing about catching a glimpse of ur soft cock through of course, grey sweatpants... hes embarrassed how fast he cums - of course, no one to witness... but imagining himself in a daydream accidentally cumming too quickly,,, how embarrassing would that be ! the renowned playboy ! gojo satoru ! cumming so fast !! he has to embrace this...

gojo, again, would still gather all your unused things - taking it upon himself to get close to you, as friends !! who wouldnt wanna be friends with him?!?!!! he's the coolest, kindest guy around - sure, a reputation, but... you just have to be charmed !!! but... he sees that you find him kinda weird n creepy, all standoffish when he tries to talk to you... all sad as he whines n nearly cries as he jerks off into a pair of stolen boxers from ur gym locker - its ur own fault, who leaves their underwear in their gym locker... hey, you mustve wanted him to find them right? ur just as a pervert as he is - ! probably even more, huh?!?!! delusional, as you don't quite pay attention to him - yet still seeing his white hair literally everywhere in the corner of your eye, you start to associate the color white with him, obviously. thinking of him rather oddly... mhm mhm mhmm!!!

#domain reblog #need this in my life #not really #but really

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sub Choso x gn!reader

cw: oral (m!receiving), nipple play

(m.list)

“How do you feel?,” you ask softly, looking up at Choso who is laying under you while you straddle his lap. He nods, letting out a soft whimper as he threads a hand through his hair, “good”.

You smile at him, leaning back down and wrapping your lips around his little stiff nipple, sucking gently when you hear your boyfriend’s groan. Your other hand squeezes his peck before rolling his other nipple under your thumb. You feel his cock twitch where it rests against your inner thigh followed by a whimper from him. You glance up at his face when you feel his hand behind your head, caressing your hair, “need more, baby, please”.

You pull back from his nipple with a mocking pout, observing your boyfriend’s half lidded eyes and swollen lips from the bruising kisses you shared before. “I just got started, Cho,” you whine, slowly inching closer to the other bud and giving it a kitten lick. Choso moans and you smirk at his reaction, “it has been an hour, princess..”.

“Tell me what you want,” you continue against his skin, ignoring his protest before using your tongue to play with his nipple, enjoying the way he squirms under you. “Please, baby, it hurts,” he murmurs, biting his lower lip as he glances down at you and caresses your hair.

“What hurts?,” you ask him innocently, gently biting down on his nipple. Choso hisses and bucks his hips up against your thigh making you feel how much precum is coming out from his cock and how hard it is. “My… my cock, fuck, need more”.

You nod at his words, kissing one last time his swollen nipple, “good boy,” before leaving a trail of wet kisses down his stomach and navel, your hands following the trail. Choso trembles under you, panting softly as he glances down at you with impatience and desire.

When you’re close to his v-line, he moans and bucks his hips up, making his cock brush against the side of your face. You glare up at him and pull back slightly, at which Choso shakes his head, and props himself up on his elbows. “I’m sorry, baby… didn’t want to, I’m sorry,” he murmurs with pleading eyes.

You click your tongue and let out a soft sigh, showing him your disappointment, “should I punish you for your impatience?”. Choso shakes his head and his cheeks blush, looking down at you shyly, his strong chest heaving with each breath he takes, “no, please, I’ll be good… for you”.

“Let’s see then,” you tell him, taking his cock in your hand and stroking it slowly. He throws his head back, his hair falling back and exposing his strong neck, “fuuuuck, baby… so good,” he moans. You lick your lips, observing how erotic he is in that position as he groans and trembles beneath your touch.

The moment he brings his gaze on you between his legs, you lean down, kissing his tip before licking a stripe up his cock, following the vein on the side. Choso’s lips part and his eyes roll back, whimpering as he does anything not to buck up into your warm mouth, “more, baby”.

You raise your brows, feeling the corner of your lips tugging up at the needy expression on his face, “more what?,” you tease, your smile widening when you tap his cock against your lips and it trembles in your grip. He lets out a shaky breath and reaches down to cup the back of your head, pressing against it, “take my cock in your mouth… please”.

You give him a short nod, licking your lips before you wrap them around his tip, slowly inching down and bobbing your head. Choso moans, his eyes half lidded as he keeps them on you. His hand falls from your head and you hum around him, hollowing your cheeks and gagging when his tip touches the back of your throat.

“Oo-oh god, baby… don’t stop, please,” he whines, licking his lips and reaching down to move away a strand of hair from your face. While bobbing your head, you move a hand up his stomach until it rests between his pecks. You push him down, before pinching his left nipple between your index and thumb, “oh, yes, fuck!”.

Choso’s back arches and his hips involuntarily buck up in your mouth, making you gag. You hum around him in warning and he shudders under you, mumbling an excuse while his eyes shut close and his hands grips the sheets.

He shudders under you as you keep stimulating his nipple and soon after your other hand reaches the other stiff bud. He starts to let out a mix of whimpers and moans as you pinch and tug his nipples, simultaneously sucking his cock and swirling your tongue around his tip.

You feel his dick twitch in your mouth and you pull back slightly, rubbing your tongue across his slit before smirking, “come f’me, Cho”. Choso squirms under you and glances down at you, his brows furrowed and his bottom lip between his teeth, “y-yes, I’m clos- Fuck!”.

You harshly tug his nipples, interrupting him while your lips wrap around his tip just a moment before cum spurts out of it. You suck it eagerly, swallowing everything as Choso bucks his hips up, his back raising from the bed as he whimpers.

You pull back entirely when his cock softens in your mouth, smiling at him as you crawl above him, “good boy”.

He has his eyes closed as you lean down to kiss his nipples, at which he whines, before kissing his lips softly.

another request, thank you anon! mwah (✿ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)⁾⁾

#domain reblog #i miss choso

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im gonna be so fr, my interest in jjk is one of those things that are changing constantly, and with all my classes ive found it hard to have any free time to do literally anything, even just reading or writing. Im kinda hoping to finally have some free time soon though, hopefully...

#Johnny speaks

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“You have two faces… two sets of eyes and arms– you even have two mouths…” Your eyes look him up and down, “So… is there anything else that comes in twos?” And all his wander unduly.

You hadn't expected it to be the truth. Just a silly question — which led to you being fucked silly.

“I'd think one would be enough for something so frail like you.” Working his maws, his teeth hurt as he sucked at your skin; feeling the rough lap of his muscle tickle at your throbbing pulse when he found a good area to latch onto.

Almost like wet leather, but nothing compared to his other hot, slimy mouth; feeling all teeth and no tender lips play at your belly when he'd press his weight onto you — suffocating as he even licks up the small bump protruding at your skin. The bulge enough was foreign, and his other mouth would play with it to tease the mess out of you… Tingles and waves of shock punches the tears out of you each time the king did, crying out in twisted bliss...

Latching yourself harder; wailing hands and nails claw a red trail in their wake down his back, as if etching a fine line to loot – down the engross of his spine twisting above you, and to the crack of his ass. Like sculpted marble, or a safe haven – either or, you didn't expect such sharp pains between the sweet heat of your legs and rock-hard thumps against your pelvis to be such pure ecstasy. A type of bliss you'd foam at the mouth, searching for mercy only for Ryōmen to dig deep into your little hole to keep you there.

Keeping you steady to take him whole — to take all of him, Sukuna holds your waist with a pair of working hands as the other almost pops your head off your shoulders; forcing you to watch how he stretches you with those two fat cocks you so wondered about.

Pumping with haste, vigor, and a sort of nuisance. He was enjoying how a pitiful being is scraping so hard to find a breather, even for something you asked for… almost admiring how your body barely takes him and it makes him scoff.

Amused was the word.

Stretching you to the hilt, Sukuna was worming up into spaces you never dreamed of being punched at. All heavy, followed with a loud clap at the barrel of his hips, each one tingling your thighs. Feeling the warmth of his cock — cocks, two heavy meat poles that throb in pure chaisty jackhammer in gummy walls.

“Why ask such stupid questions, when you are not ready for the answers.” That wasn't a question for you. He dawned on the brains of humans being so curious, yet incapable of the consequences.

Stupid, stupid thing you are. But how fun.

<– BACK: PINNED ౨ৎ NEXT: MORE SUKUNA –>

#domain reblog #need sukuna so bad #at this point its not a want #its a need

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you can't wear heels around yuji. especially if the added height makes you taller than him. something in his brain gets fried at the sight, eyes half lidded as he rakes them over your body. have your legs always looked that good? he wants to kneel on the ground, wants to kiss from your exposed ankle to your plush thighs, covering every inch of your skin. would you let him? maybe you would push him away, pointed toe on his chest to keep some distance. he can feel his cock twitching in his pants at the thought.

would you notice? of course you would, there's not a doubt in yuji's mind. one look at his flushed face, the way his tongue darts out to lick his lips, his hungry eyes — you would know. so maybe you would trail your foot down his chest, ever so slowly, torturing him while all he can do is sit at your feet. he'd be a good boy for you, wouldn't move an inch unless you tell him to.

and then you'd press down on his bulge, the heel digging into his cock and it should hurt — it does hurt — but it doesn't, too. a zip of pleasure shooting through his body, mingling with the pain, making his head go foggy. he'd be a dog, panting and whining and obedient.

#domain reblog #its what he deserves

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mdni; pussy eating, female reader, spit, fingering (f!receiving), yuuji is a messy eater, modern!au, baby used as a petname, mention of voyeurism, not proofread. (2.3k)

Yuuji can’t believe his luck. 

Can’t believe that it’s you who’s laid out before, it’s you who has their legs over his shoulders and it’s you who’s letting him pry your dripping pussy apart with his thumbs to reveal the swell of your clit—just waiting to be sucked on. 

Yuuji thinks he might be drooling, with the way his tongue feels heavy and thick with spit in his mouth. He must look a bit like a dog between your thighs, eyes blown wide and near panting over the mere prospect of putting his mouth against you. 

“Y-Yuuji..” It’s the breathlessness of it that has his eyes snapping up from your drooling slit, blinking away the pink tint of lust in his eyes to peer up at you. “Stop staring—”

“Can’t help it,” his words are slurred, the spit in his mouth near enough dripping from his lips. “Jus’ so pretty.”

And as if he couldn’t help it, his eyes dart back down to your pussy. He still can’t believe it, how did he get so lucky? How did he get his best friend of so many years laid out on the bed in his new apartment? 

He can't tell you the exact moment it happened, but it may have been when you’d finished helping him assemble the new dresser that’s now sporting your panties from where he practically flung them across the room in his eager excitement. 

You were sweaty from carrying it up the stairs since the elevator had decided to break down this week, and then it didn’t help when you were stripping your t-shirt until you were hunched over the partially assembled dresser in just your leggings and a sports bra. 

Blame it on that primal part of his brain but, fuck, he couldn’t stop imagining dipping his tongue into the hollow of your throat to taste you; to taste the salt that lines itself so delectably on your skin. He wanted to taste you wholly, to have his lips and fingers alike pressing into your skin until you whimpered for him. 

“You’re staring again,” you huff and this time, Yuuji grins at the whiny tone of your voice. “If you’re going to just stare then—”

Oh. He can’t have you leaving, not yet. So with a new resolve to turn your words to nothing, Yuuji clamps his mouth over your pussy. And if he wasn’t in heaven already, he is now. Your moans were something that didn’t come close to the times he imagined you in this very situation—and many other situations. You had his stomach tightening, and hips pressing further into the mattress in an effort to stave off the ache in his cock. 

“Yuuji!” You squeak uselessly, wriggling in his ever-tightening grip when he drags the flat of his tongue through your folds until he finds the swollen nub of your clit. You must know exactly what’s to come, with the way your fingers sink into the fluffy pink hair atop his head in anticipation. 

His lips wrap around it easily, suckling it into his mouth until he hears you shudder out a breathy moan and attempt to push his head away when he hollows out his cheeks. He chances a glance upwards along the expanse of your body, admiring the way your stomach jiggles with each harsh breath you suck in. 

Your tits shift with each whine that forces your back to arch off of the bed, and it has Yuuji’s eyes nearly rolling into the back of his head if not for the need to watch what he does to you. He’s waited far too long to miss anything. 

Your nails scratch against his scalp when he finally releases your clit in favour of dipping his tongue down between your folds, his tongue dripping with the saliva that had been gathering in his mouth from the very second he saw your bare skin just twenty minutes ago. It drips and mixes with your slick, creating an even thicker mess that he’s all too happy to suck back into his mouth before repeating the motion. 

His fingers dig into your hips, large and thick enough to hold you in place when you buck your hips at the teasing of the tip of his tongue at the entrance of your pussy. You were eager, and Yuuji was far too happy to indulge you in your wishes. With a flick of maroon eyes, he looks up to find you looking down at him with a look in your eye that has him nearly creaming in his boxers.

You looked fucked out, and he’s only had his mouth on you for a few minutes. What would you look like on his cock? When you have to take the thickness of it until it’s snug against your womb. When you have to endure the drag of it through your tight walls until you inevitably cum for him.

The possibilities have Yuuji doubling down in his efforts, tongue lashing back and forth in a sloppy way that has his chin and cheeks soaked until he can feel his skin growing tacky against your inner thighs. You moan his name so beautifully, loud and unashamed when you realise he’s serious about making you cum on his tongue. 

Even with his tongue pressing into your pussy, and even when his lips pull your clit into his mouth—he still can’t believe the situation he’s in. He feels lucky, beyond it. Your pussy is so warm, so hot and wet that he can’t believe he waited so long. His mind feels fuzzy and clouded with the urge to make you scream his name by the end of the night. Even if Sukuna hears.

The thought of his older brother hearing you, hearing what he’s doing to you… it should serve to turn him off, to have the fog lifting from his mind but that primal part of his mind doubles down. It demands him to stake his claim, to show that he was the one who got you into bed, he was the one who had you cumming on his tongue alone—

It’s enough to make him groan into your pussy before breaking away to take a much-needed deep breath, he looks up again to find your head pressed back against his plush pillows and your eyes shut. Your chest is heaving with each harsh breath you have to suck in to just survive the onslaught Yuuji had put your pussy through so quickly.

“Want you to cum for me,” he slurs, lips soaked and swollen from the effort he’s been putting into eating your pussy. “Cum on my tongue, baby. Please, please—need it so bad.” 

He knows he’s whining, he knows he’s begging but he doesn’t care. He’ll never care about it when it comes to you. He wants you to feel good, he wants your pleasure over his own. He wants to feel and see you come undone from the things he does to you, so please, won’t you cum for him?

You finally lift your head from the pillows, blowing out a heavy breath when you finally seem to gather your senses again. You’re sweating, again, it sticks the flyaway hairs to your skin and makes you glisten in the dimmed lamp light from that shitty lamp in the corner that he found with you.

He doesn’t even wait for your words to leave your tongue when your mouth opens, head nodding in agreement—his lips are immediately back on you, and he’s fucking you with his tongue. It swirls around your clit, and dips down between your folds before finding a home at your entrance. It flicks you teasingly, letting the spit gathered in his mouth drip down until it’s soaking the bed sheets beneath you. 

Your hips buck off the bed, hard enough to have Yuuji doubling down in his efforts to keep you pinned with his hot mouth. He loops an arm over the expanse of your hips, holding you in a gentle yet aggressive hold that he knows you won’t be worming your way out of anytime soon… but now it leaves him with one hand free.

With the now free hand, he strokes it along the expanse of your tense thigh, feels the muscle jump and contract when he grasps at the meat of your thigh to clamp it further against his head when he drags the length of his tongue up your pussy to play with your clit until you’re grasping at his hair to make him relent. 

The moan that tumbles from your open mouth when he presses just one thick finger into your pulsing warmth has Yuuji fucking into the mattress with a harsh press on his hips. Fuck—if that’s how you sounded with just one of his fingers, you’d sound like an angel with how he’d stretch you on his cock. 

His finger curls against your walls, savouring the way you quickly clamp down on his finger when he starts to fuck it into you a little too quickly, a little too eager in wanting to make you cum on his tongue. But you don’t stop him, you don’t push him away and you don’t fight the hold he has on you. If anything, he finds you tugging on his hair to pull him into you, effectively smothering him with your pussy.

And if this was the way Yuuji died today, then he would die the happiest man ever. 

Yuuji huffs against your pussy, nothing short of a panting dog with the way he laps at your pussy so devotedly. You take his finger well enough that he slips in a second finger, savouring the way your thighs clamp against his ears until he can hear nothing but the muffled groan you let loose. It has him working his wrist quicker, curling his fingers at the right time and you’d think he fucked you before with his fingers with how well he’s doing…

But the truth is, he may have accidentally seen you in the bathroom one day. It’s not like he was doing it on purpose! You were home from work, and he came over to drop off the clothes you left at his house last weekend when you went out together drinking! He didn’t mean to look through the gap of the bathroom door, he didn’t mean to see the way your fingers were deep inside of you and he certainly didn’t mean to cum in his pants from watching you get off.

You didn’t know about that, and he’s pretty certain you will never know about that. He can’t imagine the mortification on your face, or the horror in realisation that maybe your best friend is a little bit of a pervert—but hey! He didn’t mean for it to happen, it just did. And again, if Yuuji is anyone, he’s a man of opportunity. 

His fingers continue to scissor and stretch your walls, fingers that were thick and calloused from his day's work curl against that hidden spot deep inside of you and it has you moaning like a pornstar, your head thrown back to expose the length of your throat. Yuuji wants to mark your throat, if you let him, he wants to bite it, lick it, and kiss it until you can only remember his touch.

Your walls pulse around his fingers, clenching in a way that Yuuji knows must mean you’re close. So he locks his lips around your clit, sucking with such vigour that you squeal at the sudden shift. His arm tenses around your waist, holding you still to be at his mercy. He grunts against your wet heat, his wrist aching just slightly from how quickly he’s fucking you with his fingers.

“Y–Yuuji! I’m—I’m gonna–...” It’s all he had to hear, it’s all he’s ever wanted to hear. And he doesn’t need to hear anything else apart from the beautiful angelic moan that comes from deep in your chest, your pussy convulses and gushes with the combined effort of his tongue and fingers. 

Yuuji moans without shame against you, his lips finally parting from your swollen clit but he doesn’t go too far. Not when he realises he can just dip his head down and lap at the rush of your release, his tongue eager to slurp up anything you give him. The sounds are obscene, downright disgusting with how loud he’s huffing against your pussy as well as just how wet you are for him.

It isn’t until you’re pressing the palm of your hand against his forehead and forcing him to part from your throbbing cunt. Yuuji meets your eyes for the first time in what feels like forever, and he’s certain you can see just how far gone he is from just eating your pussy because you smile at him, a seductive smile that has his toes curling uselessly from where they hang off the end of his bed. 

It has him crawling up the bed, albeit a little clumsily with how his knees slip on the sheets when he’s kicking down the thick grey sweatpants he decided to wear today. You’re giggling sweetly when he’s finally over you, his face cradled delicately in your hands that he thinks he might be in love—he’s actually in fucking love. 

“C’mere,” you whisper, words just a hush of a breath against his parted lips and he’s leaning in, lips just pressing to yours when there’s a harsh bang of a door against the wall next to you both. It has you jumping out of your skin, and Yuuji jolts up to look at the wall. 

As if he could see through it and see his older brother who certainly heard you moaning his name just moments ago.

#domain reblog

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hewwo um

inumaki gives blowjobs headcanon?🥺

thats all ty

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : inumaki toge x reader

꒰ঌ ໒꒱ — gollyyyyy, I feel like if I don’t post an actual story im gonna get jumped by all my followers 😭 , also this is more of like a sex headcanon post more than a blowjob headcanon post so . . I deeply apologize nonnie </3

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — service top!inumaki , pillow prince!reader , amab anatomy for reader , AGED UP INUMAKI!!! JUJUTSU COLLEGE AU!!

female/female aligned r free to read, idrc

— inumaki loves making u feel handsome, whether that’s by fucking you stupid while whispering one-word compliments into ur ear or by sucking on ur cock until ur balls r fully drained

— he likes to lick on the tip first, swirling his tongue around it while stroking you slowly

— he loves watching your back arch as he licks up a long stripe from the base of your cock to the very tip

— due to his CT, he’s not the best at deepthroating as his throat gets easily damaged, but he surely tries his damn hardest, as your pleasure is everything to him

— surprisingly, toge loves the idea of you two being caught by one of his friends or even gojo

— they were right about the quiet ones being the freakiest, as he can get down and dirty with you if he’s in the right mood

— don’t take his small and flat body for a joke, as his thrusts are diabolical and will leave your ass hurting for 2 days straight

— likes to dom, but doesn’t mind subbing every so often

— mostly fucks you either after school or while switching classes

— uses his technique to his advantage by whispering “cum” into your ear just to watch you cry and shake while a load of sticky white semen shoots out of your cock

— he doesn’t care that after he gives a command his throat starts to hurt, as long as he can see your pretty face contort into one of pleasure, he don’t give a FUCK❕

— inumaki loves tracing over his favorite parts of you, dragging his fingers along the tender skin of your thighs, abdomen, chest, and arms

— toge likes to finger u while his lips are wrapped around your cock, he likes making u cum quickly 🙏🏽‼️

— no doubt he likes it rough and hard

— he loves smacking u on the ass while his going to town on u

— although he’s a sucker for rough and hard sex, he doesn’t mind going slow and passionate with u, showing his love with every thrust

#domain reblog

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Thinking about reducing the 'all mighty King of Curses' into nothing more than my little plaything~

All four arms tied up with rope imbued with Cursed Energy so he can't escape (not that he'd want to although he'd never admit it and still struggle against the rope, fuckers getting off on how much it hurts!)

Because he's Ryomen fucking Sukuna he wouldn't shut the fuck up until you put a gag in his mouth (anything counts as a gag as long as it gets him to shut up right? My cock, my fingers, his own underwear, maybe an actual gag but where's the fun in that?)

I just KNOW that he's a damn brat, always used to getting what he wants, always so demanding! (He still thinks he's the one in charge how cute!)

Obviously, like all brats deserve punishment but that asshole would thrive off punishment, thrive off the fact he managed to make me angry enough to snap, he'd enjoy that little surge of power he has before it all comes crashing down on him too fast and before he can react hes shooting blanks, soft cock aching, thicc thighs trembling, his poor hole all puffy and abused with my cum dripping out, his mind having been completely blank for a while now, poor brat doesn't even notice me going in for another round because he can't feel anything below the waist!

Delightful~

#domain reblog #talk valentina 🗣️ #speaking my language

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hear me out but … afab gojo slutting himself out by “accidentally” getting stuck in a hole in the wall (he only happens to be naked waist down and already prepped)

im hearing you out nonnie 📢‼️‼️

"What the fuck."

Satoru grinned at the other side as soon as he heard you, the trail of lube coming out of his pussy continued to gush and drip as it twitched from the cold air touching the warm flesh.

Of course, you were surprised— hell, even 'surprised' was an understatement. Yet, you couldn't help but gaze at his lower part, naked lower part, and then there was amusement reflected on your face. "What are you on now, huh?"

He clenched his ass, pussy throbbing from anticipation as soon as you rubbed his pink numb. His clit becoming more sensitive from your ministrations. Come on, I know you want this, sweetheart. he'd wiggle his ass for you to fit your cock inside his loose hole. The dangerous, sinful sounds of his wet, messy pussy drove you mad.

You then aggressively tugged him apart and then layed your tongue flat against his cunt. Hot juices of his pussy leaving your soft muscle a sweet taste, diving further into his hole and then licking a stripe as you ate him lile a fucking starved man.

He continued to drench your chin with his fluids, the intimate contact left his legs trembling again and again, strings of cum visible between his pussy to your mouth.

"Mmmh, is this a-all you got?" the gut feeling of just eating out his audacity roughly seemed rather tempting, but you had to restraint yourself for that. Satoru's body twitched with every lap, thighs shook due to how harsh you're treating his sweet cunt, and then there was that bump.

"Nghh ah!"

He shot his eyes open, nails digging hard into the wall as he waited to finally cum. He waited, and waited. And waited. But it wasn't there, it never came out. Tears began to swell up due to how you handled him, he felt a sharp pain on his hips when you gripped him tighter.

"I was so close, so close! You just had to be a bitch and take it fro— anMff?!"

"Baby, who do you think started this at the first place?" he moaned as he felt a sudden pain on his pussy lips. No, you did not just— "Ah!" whines came out naturally from his lips, eyes blurry from how much slaps he got against his cunt.

"Come on, I asked you a question," he kept unmoving, tired body already giving up if it wasn't for your arms holding his hips. The tip of your index and middle exploring his sensitive flesh, tracing circles around his warmth until it reaches his— he felt you lift his hood up and then realization came. You perverted ass, you can't—

"Ahn! mmf it's m-me. I started thi— keukk!"

He had to bite his lower lips until it bled, his sensitive bud exposed and numb from the harsh slap it received. Fuck, it fucking hurts so much. Big fat tears left his eyes swollen as he started to keep his thighs close. Hips wiggling out of your touch, but no, he gave you a taste— that fucking sinful, desire to ruin such strong, respectable man.

You positioned your knee between his prying legs, making contact with his wet pussy that left your pants damp. "That's it, good boy."

Suddenly, cum splattered down to his abdomen, and then in between your and his own thighs— some even got into the wall. His eyes rolled right back his head as he felt something big and thick rip him apart. You continued to slide your cock inside back and forth, each thrusts plunging deep and hits every nook and canny of his sensitive walls.

The sloppy and aggressive movements becoming more eager and desperate to dive in the overwhelming warmth. His hole then throbbed and milks the fuck out of you. Balls hitting his fat mounds as you kept an aggressive pace and relieve your frustrations through those onslaughts.

" Ah, ah, ah mmf!" you continued to ram your swelled up cock inside his cunt, releasing all your cum all nice and deep inside. The glorious man below then squirted against the wall, feeling his insides getting filled up with so much cum, yet still hard.

He had to keep himself from passing out as you forced his entrance open again for your throbbing cock. Breath heavy and panting from how rough you're handling him.

Satoru cried out loud for all to hear from the hard fuck he's receiving. Nails dug deeper into his skin as you plunged your length again and again. His ass sensitive and red from your rough pounding.

He couldn't take it anymore. The pain grew as his consciousness began to fall as his pussy got owned up and taken. Drools and bodily fluids continued to drip, brain no longer functioning to even realize you filled him up again. And continued to do so as soon as black started to consume him.

You should've realized how dangerous this is, Toru. You hummed, cock railing his puffy cunt warm and sticky, and then plunging deep inside his warmth. You should've realized that you were like a fleeting drug to me.

had my third cup of coffee today while writing filth 🕺

#domain reblog #have i reblogged this before? #i cant remember #reblogging it again then #cuz its very good

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𝑀𝐸𝑅𝐼𝒩𝒢𝒰𝐸 𝒟𝒪𝐿𝐿 — kento nanami x male!reader

himbo!reader , farmer!au , strangers/friends/lovers , meet - cute , inaccurate farming techniques , lawyer!nanami , slow burn , depictions of injury ( minor burns ) , check - ins , dumbification , vaguely implied age gap (~5 years) , hand kink , inexperienced reader , light feminization , blowjobs , anal , mating press , fingering , hand-holding , praise , degradation , slut - calling , dirty talk , spit / drool , under-negotiated kink , aftercare

w.c; ~ 13.8k

sonny says. . . naaamiiii !!! {cry} {cry} mbaby :c can ybelieve s’is mfirst nami fic ?!?! just tbe clear, the reader’s size or height isn’t explicitly stated, but he’s vaguely hinted toward bein/appearin physical stronger than nanami.

‘ Next stop: Sekichiku ’

When he wakes up, Kento expects sunlight peeking through greenery— warm, yellow rays of light that dance and flicker across his eyelids. Warm, yellow beams that caress his cheek like the knuckles of someone tender, the palms of someone sweeter. It’ll overwhelm him at first, so bright and unapologetic as his eyes adjust and focus, but he’ll quickly crash, pupils constricting as the disturbance dwindles. And, suddenly, the star’s saturation will be comforting. It’ll be like a second. Just slower paced, peaceful. He expects the rustle of leaves, connected to strong branches and even stronger roots that dig into deep, rich soil. He expects to roll over in his temporary bed, breathing gently beneath shade, shielding his eyes from the welcoming invasion and blanketing him in a seamless flow of cool air.

When he wakes, Kento expects to hear the chirping of birds. It’s never quite enough to hear them in Tokyo. The strum of wind as it tickles his nose and pushes him forward. The swaying of grass— the smell is still so freshly imprinted in his brain, as it makes his head swim while crystal drops glide across its surface — a coarse underfoot of greenery that prickles the souls of his feet.

Tranquility by his side, urging him to get out of bed, chirping in an excited voice as it tugs on his wrist. He expects solitude, rolling its tangerine eyes and tapping its foot impatiently, “This is the break you’ve waited twenty-seven years for.”

But, instead, he finds himself clutching his chest, his heart beating with an unfamiliar pace that isn’t so calm. His body feels cold, like he’s been submerged in the deepest part of the ocean, unrelenting and ruthless as wave after wave crashes into his ribcage. The static in his ears grows louder and louder, ready to combust and burst his eardrums. Instead of the rustle of leaves, the cruel hustle and bustle of city life storms forward against his chest, shoving him back and forth. Back and forth, to and fro, against his body as his knuckles turn white and his vision starts to spot. Back and forth, as he comes undone.

It’s been so long, he’s not quite sure just how to unwind.

He starts off slow, swallowing air in desperate heaps until his legs relax, spreading toward the cushion arms of his faux-velvet chair. Then he flexes his fingers, draws them into tight fists and releases the digits until the shaking has stopped. Sips his complimentary white-wine with newfound steadiness, and tries not to choke when the intercoms ring,

‘Now approaching: Sekichiku.’

It’s a quaint little village, your district, where everyone knows everyone and the news is always, no matter where you are, city-wide. Stone-clad pavement and moss decalled windows, there’s a small blanket of achroous fog further north of town square. Yet, despite that, there’s an ever growing city of greenery and agriculture. With a small population and himself being the only passenger to unload at the station, it seems to be a lot busier than he’d originally thought. Street-food stalls and vendors, selling freshly baked goods and syrupy, savory sweets. It’s not like Tokyo, no, there’s no rush. No pushing or shoving, no overcrowded lines, no smells of smoke and burnt coal.

In fact, the air is rather crisp— the further his legs take him, the more apparent. No longer are his lungs breathing in the stench of sickness or body odors, no longer is he pushing past the fortunate, just to shove the unfortunate. And, admittedly, it’s a bit of a culture shock— but it’s not unwelcome. Regardless, Kento keeps his suitcase close, pushes it forward, sidestepping polite smiles and local shop owners.

He basks in it. The genuine nature to it all, the healthy glow of the atmosphere despite the steam, the fog, the chill to the air. He considers this a luxury— the closest to a vacation he’ll get, even if he’s technically ‘on the clock.’ Still— he soaks in the sights of hugging trees, of mossy roads and cobblestone streets. The colorful banners that jump with life, the lanterns and yellow-lighting that illuminates the day— he’s sure at night they’re even more wondrous. And, oh, the smells. Not at all like tokyo— there isn’t an overwhelming mixture of perfumes and colognes, no fast-food chains competing through aromatic smells, no heavy scents of tobacco littering the air. It's crisp, it’s ripe.

He almost takes no offense to the collision against his side— nor the screeching sound of surfaces grinding against each other, nor the loud and abrasive cry of the man bumping into him, accompanied by the crack of an apple’s core against the ground.

“Woah,” Warm breaths pan down the base of his neck, even warmer hands wrapping around his bicep with strength Nanami is sure shouldn’t be normal for a typical, everyday civilian. He involuntarily grunts, a deep sound that rumbles in his throat and earns an eager, yet apologetic chuckle. “You alright? Y’almost went flyin’!”

His brows furrow quizzically at that. First— he’s certain it’s the latter who nearly lost an arm and a leg with his tumble. Second, he hadn’t expected such a youthful, bouncy voice from the very stature shadowing acast him. Not even a bit, it doesn’t match the muscle straining through thermal clothing at all, let alone the sheer square feet of area being taken up by one person. Blocking his vision almost completely, standing straight— at an angle— that blocks a stall for fresh produce and flaky, steaming bread. The goods speak for themselves, crusted over in golden brown mountains and cloud-like, moist cross-sections.

Swallowing, Kento nods, eyeing the poorly drawn sign for fresh bread. Drawn in sharpie, the prices are written in big, bold, red letters. Endearing, almost, the curve and loop of each letter and number— the lines of each to-scale doodle of bread. Nothing like Tokyo, not nearly as artificial, not perfectly clean-cut. Not so cookie-cutter. There’s some personality in it, as juvenile as it may be. And it’s a shame, really, how promising the stand looks. Apples that shine a golden shade of red, bread that’s glazed in a sweet, sticky layer of yellow molasses and savory honey. And though he’d love to indulge, Kento has yet to label himself as the type. “Great, thank you.” Is all he says, pulling his suitcase along the perimeter of the stand.

Some other time, then.

The days are long as they are hard. The sun has yet to fully set, and still, the Earth pulls and pulls to weigh it down onto your shoulders. The sky is painted in hues of orange and purple, strokes of tangerine and lavender roaming past your bird's eye view. Your back pops as you stretch, arms tensing against the woven basket of leftover harvest, shiny red fruits aligned with the horizon and reaching toward the tiny glimpse of departing stars.

Where blossoms grow from tiny seeds, and orchids dance in gentle breeze— beds upon beds of farmland and agriculture drape the outskirts of the farmstead. Though the weather is turning, branches are starting to grow bare and bloom in color, the wind picks up its seasonal chill, and the clouds have begun to dissipate into the sky. . . The well-received proof of your hard work is still something to behold.

“—ome any minute, now,” You’ve heard it all before, your mother gossiping to her farmer-wife friends as she nurses sweet teas and tangerine tiramisu under her calloused, warm hands. You’d been a mere two steps away from where she sits at the open-island kitchen, shoes tipped in the illuminated speckle of celadon clearing just adjacent to the sliding, front, cedarwood door. “Said so, at least. Did you hear. . . ” Windchimes sing in welcome, soft and mellow as the door opens and shuts behind you, socked feet slipping from boots to warm, fuzzy slippers.

“M’back, Mama,” You mumble, half-humming along to the tune of muffled windchimes the further you walk, arms hoisting the overflowing basket up to your chest. A sweet sigh, then pitter-patter of fleece against parquetry, and the discovery of a sweet, cherry-red ladybug walking along your knuckles, leads to the basket securely placed on a free countertop. There’s a quirk of her brow, something of a gentle question— more of a suggestion— not completely committed to keeping two conversations at once. How’d it go?

“No luck sellin’ today,” your voice buds, small and soft as your eyes trail the curves of a particularly large waste of an apple. An evident pout on your lips, then a quiet huff of air.

Farming has been your whole life, really. It’s what you’re best at, good at. Ever since you were young, barely tall enough to push away tall-grass— barely strong enough to pull out weeds, you knew it was yours. Something special, gravel crumbling and breaking beneath heavy, solid boots and rubber tires. The remnants of small, flying rocks, pelting into each other and leaving behind white, gray smoke as your tractor comes to a slow, gradual halt.

“But I met someone new!” That peaks her attention, nothing short of a gasp coming from a pair of lips—identical to your own— and here come the questions. Was he blond? Oh, I knew it! Did he buy anything? Well, why not? Was he tall? Thought so. . . How about handsome? Come on, now. .

“He was . . hmm, pretty.” Is how you’d like to put it, raising a finger to the air in finality. Truth be told you don’t remember much about his appearance— it was more so his demeanor. He’d bumped into you— you think— and yet, there was something so smooth about him. Not even his slicked hair, wavy at the end and curved just right to frame his face and bleed into the bristles of his blond undercut. He’d carried on like it was nothing, still polite, even admired your handiwork on your stall’s banner. A sweet thing of a stranger.

“You’re so easily impressed,” The smile dusting your lips curls into a wee, nasty little frown. That’s just not true. “A good thing, too, you’ll have to like our new neighbor.”

Her voice melting through one ear and out the other like freshly harvested honey has your throat tied into a thick knot, stuck right at the base of your neck and only growing in size. Hands thrumming against the granite countertop, your body leans inward.

“Neighbor?”

“Mm,” She hums, landline trapped between her ear and sweater-clad shoulder. You’re not entirely sure if it’s toward you or her friend, either way, her conversation stays ambiguous. “I heard he’s some fancy lawyer. You think he’s defendin’ the Hasaba girls from last year?”

That’s something to think about. Two little girls who’d been found locked away by some sort of— police officer, was he? Perhaps something more authoritative, and taken into his personal care. You wouldn’t be surprised if it became legalized— you’d only met that man (Suguru Geto, was it?) in passing, but his stature seemed dead-set on protecting those girls.

There’s a muffled gasp on the other line, crackly with static as a finger twirls around the phone’s coiled, mint wire. The rest of the conversation goes unheard, slippered feet carrying you to the large, alcove window that displays just enough equal farmland and neighborhood housing. And, sure enough, as if on cue, it’s not hard to make out the lines and shadows of the ‘ fancy ’ lawyer, his fluid silhouette effortlessly carrying luggage and— what looks to be— a box of books. Documents, perhaps.

“You didn’t— how come you didn’t say nothin’ ?!” Your excitement has you toppling over, limbs every which way as your face presses into the glass window. When you’re stuck in a place where everyone knows everyone, there’s something exhilarating about having a new neighbor. And he knows nothing.

There’s a quiet mumble that roughly translates to: ‘You didn’t ask.’, but it’s filtered out by the sound of your full-footed stomps. You opt to keep your slippers, racing toward the neglected basket, mind completely set. “I’ll be back, Ma!”

The path along your house isn’t dangerous, but it is harsh on bare feet— inured by heavy boots and pick-up trucks.. Still, it goes completely ignored as you carry the heaviest basket of goods you own, anxiety twisting and turning in your stomach— bunny hops into your chest and stomps and stomps and stomps. You’ve carried yourself past the intersection of the cobblestone path, a lot more smooth the closer it gets to the large, usually untouched, rental home. The lights are off— save for the dim, yellow glow of a small porch lamp resting above an unsullied, sleek and wooden rocking-chair. When there’s no one to inhabit the home, it’s always been comforting to look at— but now? .

Cold would be one way to put it. Your feet are cold, your arms are cold, your hands are cold, and you’re stood at his front door— frozen. Scared is another.

Even so, you’ve always been told you’re the ‘bravest boy’ in your whole district. Cry-baby habits and all.

The door opens before you can knock, and all you can register is brown. Brown wallpaper— the beige type, just barely meeting the requirement. Patterned with old, vintage looking floral prints. Brown, sleek wood of a bannister— steps that lead down into the living room, but are visible from the front door. Brown eyes, such a specific shade. When exposed to the light they almost look gray— green?— but as he stands before you, there’s nothing but molten chocolate and burnt honey-candy. A brown leather belt, securing crisp slacks and an equally crisp button up. You expect to see brown loafers, but—

Fuzzy slippers, brown and soft and cute. Little black buttons for eyes, and two floppy, fluffy ears— reminiscent of a bunny.

“Oh. . . Can I help you?” You’ve heard it before, his voice, but it’s even more striking than ever. It’s easy to forget the voice of someone you’d just met, but there’s something so. . distinct about it. He’s got a slight accent, too, something Tokyo-adjacent— you’ve always wanted to visit for longer than the feeble four hours of a busy work-trip.

“Mhm!” Pretty lips spread to their best grin, pulling at your cheeks until the babyfat wells up. “Well, no— um, actually. .” Brown eyes are expectant, but calm and patient as they watch you fumble over your words. Your fingers tremor as the basket is thrusted forward, heat blooming in your cheeks. “These— This is for you!”

“Ah. . .” Pink lips part, cupid’s bow prominent. There’s a beat of silence, then the sound of his front door closing with a slight click— right in your face. For a moment all you can do is stare, eyes boring into the dark, chestnut wood of the rustic front door. Staring until it’s gone blurry, eyes bubbling with fresh, unshed tears. And, nearly spilling over like an overflowing faucet, they gather before you can blink them away— fat and thick and embarrassing.

“Um. . I like your sli—slippers.” Fully aware you’re speaking to an unmoving door, you can’t behind yourself to walk back the moss-decalled path home. It’s not so cold anymore, your bones having rung out in the, metaphorical, hot sun until they’ve dried completely and— now it’s warm. Warmth in your nose, stinging as you sniffle and bite down a hiccup.

“Sorry for the wait,” Mahogany shifts, offset by a deep rumble of a voice, smooth like velvet in comparison to the sharp, slow creak of door hinges, “Here.”

Dam rebuilt almost immediately, your body straightens. Him again, this time his eyes trained on what he holds in his hand. Brown and gold like sweet honey and, by God, it’s the most crisp set of yen you’ve ever held in your life. His fingers dance with fluidity you’ve never seen before, counting through each slip until he’s deemed an amount satisfactory— there’s a slight patch of hair on each of his knuckles, an array of veins that cascade into his forearm. His fingertips look a bit rough, but his nails are glossy and clipped. Even his cuticles are pushed back, just enough to look healthy and natural.

“Oh! I wasn’t trying to—”

“I know it’s rude to tip, so I left the exact change,” You blink. Once, twice— again, lips parted like a fish, fresh out of water. Then he’s hoisting the basket from your trembling hands, eyes downcast. “Next time, don’t give out things you worked for, for free,” Right where his eyes dip, his monolid, there’s a small mole— cute and circular, and had you not been studying the curves of his face you wouldn’t have noticed it. “You should wear a coat, too.” And, like a schoolboy, you can’t help the flurry of butterflies catching flight in your stomach.

“Yes, Sir,” Pearly whites biting at the fleshy, pink insides of your cheek have your lips puckered, pensive and sweet as you clutch the money to your chest. “Sorry about earlier— um, if it’s okay, I could help with your boxes?”

He leans forward, careful enough to keep the respective bubble of space between the two of your bodies, glancing at heavy, book-piled boxes labeled ‘N.K.’ The woven basket creaks under the weight of his chest, but it stays in one place nonetheless. “That?” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s fine, just mail. Must’ve arrived before I did.”

It’s a bit awkward, really. Anticipation nips at your fingertips— you’ve never really had to work so hard to continue a conversation. You’ve never had to think about it either, if the words were coming out correct, if anyone was comfortable with your presence.

“Oh,” You breathe, subconsciously leaning closer. Perhaps it’s a miracle he hasn’t actually shut the door in your face, and— right. Your hands move to wipe away any streaks from your cheeks, a small sniffle ringing in the air. “Sorry f’I bothered you. I live, um, closest to the windmill. Yknow, just up the path from here. . . ?”

You haven’t known him for long, but you just can’t consider him comparable. Maybe it’s your heart speed-running past any other rational thought, maybe it’s the blooming heat in your chest, maybe it’s the shiver of winter trailing down your spine. You find yourself desperately hanging onto his every breath, only ever beaming when he shakes his head.

“Kento Nanami,” Tense shoulders relax with a deep inhale, the sweet smell of chocolate stuffed bread filling his nostrils. All that trepidation washes away, hushed under the breeze of Kento’s slow breaths. “Did you make these yourself?”

The door creaks, quiet and welcoming as Nanami extends an arm, stepping aside. Once his eyes finally settle on you they harden, just for a moment, as if he’s finally noticed the pull of your eyes— the crystalline seam tightlined around your waterline, the bright red strain of veins peeking behind your lids. Still, he says nothing, until you’ve introduce yourself with watery tremors.

“It’s cold, and you came all this way without a jacket?” Your eyes trace the vapor floating into the air as he sighs, irises dancing along the edge of your bare forearms. “Come in.”

Your muscles straighten up under his gaze, rippling until rigid as you eagerly nod, “Y’don’t think we could share some of that bread, d’you?”

The best time to farm, you’ve learned, is just after sunrise. The sun rests her head on grassy hills, still groggy and not quite awake yet, herself. But you are, suited up in your boots and overalls, not a single lantern in hand. That’s the first plus, natural lighting of the rising sun. The sweet, dim bath of light that paints the path from your home to your plantation in molten gold.

Then there’s Kento. You’d think he never sleeps, but you’ve seen it. Ritualistic, in a way. For the last two weeks, you’ve watched him go about his day. See, the window of your bedroom leads straight into his study, where he prefers a dimly lit lamp over the bright fluorescents. It’s almost hard to tell when he comes and goes, seeing as whenever you look, there he is. Sat in a swiveling chair and hunched over his desk, writing something in a notepad and skimming through— what looks to be— more documents on his computer.

You can only tell he’s going to bed once there’s a sigh, a pinch to the bridge of his nose before smoothing out his eyebrows, then the discarding of silver-frame, rectangular reading glasses. The lamp stays on, as if he knows he’ll be back in less than seven sleeping hours— which you think, for him, translates to roughly thirty minutes.

And, though he can’t see you, you always make an extra effort to wave up at his study, just before starting up your tractor.

You never expected him to wave back. You never expect his eyes to trail from your face to your supplies. And you, most certainly, never expect him to join you. Two thermal mugs in hand as he makes it over the small hill from his home to your own, past the thorn bushes and vacant tangerine trees. Hot chocolate— piping and rich, it coats your tongue in its sweetness and splashes against your lips with comforting warmth.

“Mm!” You hum, blowing through the small gap between the thermos and its sealed lid. You’d assumed your scarf, wrapped snug around your neck, would do the trick— keep you warm enough — but this seems to actually hit the spot. Sticky accents from remnants of unmelted marshmallows, its fluff clings to the corner of your lips. And Kento, nursing his own mug— though it contains tea— looks up to watch you grin, shards of tiny sugar crystals clinging to your pouty bottom lip.

“Hold still,” all but purring, his thumb swipes at your lip, wipes away the stickiness until they’ve parted— breathless. His eyebrows furrow with concentration, as if it’s a practiced habit, absentmindedly licking his thumb clean with one smooth, quick dart of his tongue.

“Sweet.”

Your breath circulates into the air, a swirl of white that dispels almost immediately. Your thoughts are cut short, breath stuck in your throat, eyes wide and glazed over with astonishment. “It’s— huh?”

“Sweet,” he chimes, lips curling around each letter. He’s beside himself, nearly forgetting who he is until the clear of his throat and a resigned grumble. “I can’t fathom how you manage to drink. . . radioactive waste from a cup.”

His humor is dry— something you have to think over for a moment before smiling against the lid of your cup. Kento notes how you smile— with your whole body— eyes closed tight and teeth on display, shoulders bunched and your stride much more bouncy. He tries not to smile when you giggle, hiding the lower half of your face behind the piping mug as your shoulders brush against his own. With each step the closer you get— to both the blond and your truck.

“It’s good,” Your voice lifts at the end of the statement, feigning offense as you lick your lips. Soft tongue against soft lips, Nanami partly wonders if you naturally taste as sweet as your preference for drinks. “M’not bein’ mean about yours!”

“I'm not being mean,” He corrects, a silent apology laced in his tone— just in case — and your knowing gaze lifts from his cup to his eyes, blazing bright and beautiful. He basks in your attention for a moment, like the gentle rays of a sun-swept island. Had this really been a vacation— no carry-on cases— he would’ve considered booking a flight to Malaysia.

First, he’s buckling you into your seat— it seems you’d forgotten, then he’s reminding you to put on your gloves, despite having bare hands of his own.

“You do this for a living,” is his justification, though you deemed it more a reason for him to wear the protective gear. “You wear them.”

And, now, he’s listening intently as you explain the mild inconvenience that is the technicalities that come with farming. He learns of your affinity to animals. Your slight, biased preference for gardening. The way your nose wrinkles when you think too hard, and the way you often forget what you were saying as you say it.

Though the scenery outside the passenger seat window is beautiful— valleys of faded green and brown, a light fog dusting the air. The symphony of crickets and cicadas, and of course, the sunset making its round up the horizon, teetering along the age of the Earth as it paints each and every blade of grass in its light.

He helps you out of the car as if you haven’t done it yourself a million times, careful not to spill your drink in his other hand. He’s awfully tender, too, his thumb absentmindedly circling the glove-clad skin of your knuckles as your hand squeezes his own. The door slams shut, and he doesn’t miss your expression twist as you whisper a small ‘oops, sorry!’ to your precious truck before unloading supplies.

Kento can’t name a thing— he’s out of his depths, here, but he helps anyway. He carries it down the never-ending row of cabbage and radish, watches his step despite nearly dismantling at least three dozen budding vegetables simultaneously. And you don’t yell at him once, instead offering words of sweet encouragement until you’ve found the place to start, dropping your assortment of tools and buckets.

“M’kay, ‘Nami,” He watches you drop to a crouch, warmth blooming in the apples of his cheeks. It’s not just the suggestive position, nor the way your pretty eyes look up at him from there— but it’s how sweet you say his name. . going as far as to give him a nickname, too.

Still, it manifests through the twitch of his eye, which you don’t catch onto, as he kneels alongside you.

“‘Nami—”

“No. It’s pronounced Nanami.” He interjects, his grip tight along the base of unsavory, frostbitten weeds— at least, that’s what he sees you doing anyway. Almost too tight, heavy and thick hands flexing, you can see the bend of his knuckles as his fingers dig into the roots.

“Na,”And, the smell of dirt, it’s so strong, the earthy undertones invade your nostrils and have no intent on stopping. . . “—na,” Raw, natural. His palms press in at the sides, thumbs stroking at the soil as he feels around for growing stems. For a moment it’s silent, save for the crackling radio beside you. Your pretty lips part, and sweetly, you’ve sounded out his name. “—mi.”

A puff of air leaves his lips, a scoff of a chuckle, and he’s giving a slight nod, quietly whispering the syllables of your name in acknowledgment. “Mhm?”

He doesn’t miss the way your lips split into a wide grin, weeds absentmindedly disregarded for a moment as you giggle, “I already knew that— I just said it!”

“Mm,” He agrees, though he’s not entirely sure you did. Then his heavy fingers tap your wrist— gentle, barely even a tap, but it gets you back on track— picking up the dead weeds. Kento watches, your hands gingerly plucking them free from the root, mastered and effortless.

Your fingertips dig into the soil, palms sticky and damp, littered with defrosting grass along each ridge and defining line. There’s so much care in your fingertips, and with every successful pull your eyes ignite. Like a cute, overgrown puppy. “Good. You’re a smart boy.”

“Y’think m’smart?” And, though your shoulders bunch up— a bit more bashful, you’re shaking your head. “I mean— I knew that already, too,” and it washes away as fast as it arrives, replaced with genuine exuberance. “I tell m’self everyday!”

The blond catches it anyway, gaze unwavering, even as your own struggles to keep contact. Nanami’s eyes are remarkably intimidating despite belonging to someone who’s positioned so utterly relaxed. . Crouching just as you are, but with smooth shoulders and lax biceps. Still, they’re visible through the silk fabric of his button-up, but he seems used to it. Tufts of blonde hair, slightly unruly and disheveled— swept back with gel, yet still set off in a flurry of gold by the back of his head, as if he’d rolled around in bed and decided to lounge about instead of retouching it.

Cozy.

“I do,” The sun dawns down through thick, gray clouds, framing his bronze locks— and with his lips slightly parted and his skin picking up a peachy glow, he looks almost seraphic. “What were you saying?”

“Um,” You pause to rethink through the last hour, warmth blowing past your cheeks as a particularly nippy gust of wind rushes by. “. . We sell ‘em, the weeds! That won’t be for a few days, sometimes we keep ‘em for cookin’, but . . . these aren’t any good.”

“Too many?” He asks, as if it’s the most interesting thing he’s learned in his vacation here, by far, despite having learned that just a few days ago.

“Too many!” Pretty lips part into a wide grin, and perhaps that’s the conclusion to Kento’s sightseeing.

౨ৎ

Kento tries not to lie— not unless he absolutely needs to.

With your black on black attire— a large, knitted sweater, a black bomber atop it, dark jeans to match, a hand-woven gray scarf wrapped around your neck, and white sneakers that carry a cream-colored accent in its threading— it’s hard to keep his mouth shut.

“Where are we going?” Is his first question— but there’s so much more he means to ask. Since when do you dress so nicely? Do your parents know you spent extra farm money on those shoes? Is it bad to feel the urge to hold you closer, just so no one gets any ideas?

Nonetheless, checking the silver-plated Rolex along his wrist with the slight tussle of his lapel-collared trench coat, just before popping open the passenger’s seat of your truck, he ignores the growing thought.

“You’re always locked up in your house,” Twisting your keychain covered keys into the ignition, the truck starts up with a gradual rumble. You’ve figured something was wrong with the oil for quite some time now, but it’s never been enough to start any problems. “Don’t y’wanna have fun?”

That doesn’t entirely answer his question, nor does it ease his mind— a vacation this is, yes. But it’s also paid, and he’s technically on the clock whilst being here. Still, he nods just once, the clench of his jaw apparent in the faint valleys of muscle just below his ear. Though, he supposes he could say the same about you. Every day you wake up, harvest, water crops, feed your animals, clean out troths and shovel up feces. He’s not even entirely sure if that’s your idea of fun— but he hopes not.

Kento doesn’t expect you to be such a great driver. Smooth turns and a gentle ride— even with cobblestone streets and gravel trails. You get carried away when you talk, too, hands moving about and your gaze trailing to his eyes every few seconds. He has to remind you— “Don’t take your hands off the wheel,” “Don’t look at me, look at the road,” — but Kento would be lying if he said it weren’t endearing.

It’s almost like you can barely function without basking in his presence.

“If it were warmer,” You swallow, finally stopping to catch your breath after the last fifteen minutes of rambling. The car slows down to a halt, an overhead traffic-light flashing a bright, crisp shade of red. “We could’ve went apple-pickin’ . . . or even oranges!”

You take the time to fully face him, eyes trailing up his dark trousers and gray turtleneck— it bunches at his chest, and you’re sure without his trench coat it’d be just as strained around his biceps.

“What do you do when it’s cold?” He muses, ducking his head to watch the passing of trees and inner city shops.

“Hm?” You hum, but before he can repeat the question you beat him to it. “Uh, we have this lake— it’s the first to freeze over when it’s cold. . ” So quaint, his eyes gloss over pedestrians as they live amongst themselves. Walking their dogs, sharing a drink at an outdoor bar, couples huddled close together for warmth. The sidewalks are clean and clear, there’s a polite, happy bounce to everyone’s step. Fairy lights blink in every other window, casting a sweet, bright hue along the streets below it. Kento understands it all, despite it being much more. . comfortable. . than Sendai. “And, when it’s completely frozen, we skate on it!”

It feels like home. A gentler, cozier version of it.

“I’m sorry—” The blond clears his throat as he turns to actually look at you, having fully processed your words. “Skating?”

“Are y’scared?” Nanami tries to ignore the burning of his throat when you laugh at his silence— a pretty, featherlight thing of a giggle that only progressively makes it harder for him to catch his breath.

“No,” He grumbles. He’s actually done it before— his younger, studying ‘coworkers’ had a knack for dragging him around outside of work hours— and he wasn’t free from it, even in winter. Yuji, Megumi, and Nobora, perhaps the three only people who could have him willingly risking a fractured disc.

“Don’t be scared, ‘Nami!” The car turns into a short trail, decalled in various signs and brightly colored symbols. “I can help you, m‘kay?”

Four people.

He nods anyway, save you the meltdown, and lets you drag him out the car once you’ve found a good place to park. He’d think it was illegal had there not been a sign for it, let alone communal skates in varying sizes. They’re in good condition, too. A small wooden bench— decorated with moss along its sides, he brushed his fingertips against it by accident— keeps him steady, but when he looks over to you, you’re already walking around with untied skates.

“Come here,” He beckons, voice soft and fond as he quirks a finger in your direction. He watches you fumble, nearly tripping over your own legs as opposed to your laces, but you make it over to him anyway, thigh against thigh. You brace yourself when he pulls your legs over his lap, shifts in his seat and tightens them just enough— “It’s not hurting you, is it?”— to fit comfortably.

“Thank you, ‘Nami,” He can hear the sincerity in your voice— as if he’d saved your life. Your breath pans across his face, warm and minty as you shake your head, “Doesn’t hurt. . .”

He offers a gentle pat to your knees once you’re fully set, softly dropping them back down as he leans to tie his own. It’s a quick process— not as tedious as the knotted up, tattered ones back home— a much more nice change of pace.

The ice, though, is considerably worse. He surmises it’s because it’s relatively untouched— if the whole village of Sekichiku had done two laps over it still wouldn’t have been enough to leave a noticeable dent in the ice— so his skates have nowhere to grip. You, though. . .

You’re much more graceful on ice than on land. A slow turn here, a quick twirl there, you could skate laps around him if you so choose. But you don’t, instead holding onto his wrists as he stiffly skates forward. Kento’s nose is nipped with pink, matching the particular shade of his lips as they part in concentration. The shade dispels down his cheeks, and you’ve never seen his face so. . . soft.

“Say, ‘Nami?” You huff, holding his wrists as you move in a slow, clockwise circle, turning you both. “When’re you leavin’?”

The truth bubbles in his throat, tougher to swallow than he’d originally thought it’d be. He clears his throat, avoids the question, and instead of freeing his wrists altogether, he holds your hand. You’re pouting when you slowly swivel to his side, his heart somersaulting almost painfully at the cute, wee frown to your lips. “Hey,” you whine, caught off guard but still pleasantly surprised, squeezing your palms against his own. “What’re you doin’?”

You’ve always been undeniably sweet. Kento thinks back to your basket of goods. The sweet, savory, aromatic flavors of bread, meats, cheeses, chocolates. How you have it to him so sweetly, no questions asked. There’s no ulterior motive to your demeanor, either. It’s peculiar to have someone so. . dependable. Someone to easily lean on, someone so— hospitable.

You’re perfect.

“I've never—“ He pauses, watching smoke dispel form your lips. An intimate position, he’s in— close enough to hear your breaths, holding on tight enough to feel your pulse through your fingertips. “Noone has ever done this for me. Thank you.”

“What, take you skatin’?”

“Support me unconditionally.” He pulls away before you can say anything in response, relishing in the thought of your pulse speeding against his knuckles as he stiffly skates back toward regular land.

The ride home is smooth, but quiet. And once you get there, hunger overrides your hospitality.

You like Kento’s rental— its kitchen is spacious and just big enough to support the mess of pots and pans that come with baking. It’s warm and inviting, the stove works great and the oven even better. Its heat burns a little brighter, but nothing you can’t handle.

Pain au chocolat — chocolatine — and meringue cookies; they’re a pain in Kento’s ass. Not even something he’d try to attempt without you there— he’s happy to watch you whisk away and laugh at his disgruntled faces. A “taste-tester”, you’d called him, scooping one sugary accessory after another onto the pad of your fingertip and asking him to try.

You weren’t lying. You really do know how to bake— flour dusted skin and all. Twisting raw dough into pretty sculptures of bows and braids, scored surfaces of x’s and o’s, light layers of warm butter that seep into soft, risen dough. And when it bakes, oh, how sweet the smell of aromatic bread is to Nanami’s stomach.

Studying the contours of a pretty face— baby fat rounding your cheeks as they pool into a sweet smile, pearly whites displayed brighter than the moonlight leaking through the floral curtains. Your laughter is wholehearted, hands gripping the hem of Nanami’s fleece shirt, body tipping toward his chest as your giggles dispel into the warm, brown-sugar baked air. For a moment he mentally swoons, something of a comforting coo, eyelids heavy and blanketed with the same baking powder littering your handsome face. He relishes the warmth, which leaves just as fast as it arrives, and suddenly you’re reaching into the oven without your cute, fluffy puppy-patterned mittens protecting your hands.

“Wait,” His tone is harsher than intended, solid and thick, and you— the sweet, softheaded boy that you are, don’t entirely deserve the worried look on your face that melts into sharp, hot pain.

“Ouch!” Your elbow smacks into Nanami’s calf as you flinch, fingertips raw and numb— still pulsing from the fresh burn. The man crouches down, knee to ceramic, palm to your warm shoulder, and suddenly your wide eyes are glittering and gleaming. Had the smile from your face not been growing, he’d have been appalled. “‘Nami, did you see that?!”

“Silly boy,” He sucks his teeth, pulling your clasped hands from your chest. Gingerly, he plucks out each finger one by one, runs the pad of his thumb along the burn sites. “You have to be more gentle with yourself.”

And, as if he’d declared to destroy your favorite equipment, your shoulders deflate. Hazel watches as tears well in your eyes in real time— with award winning speed, really— glassy and wet and oh, you’re so cute. It was just a small reminder, nothing too harsh— it could barely be considered scolding. Yet here you are, sniffling and averting your gaze. Eyes glossed over while your fingers instinctively curl over his own for comfort. Then a small, petulant, “M’sorry, ‘Nami.”

“None of that,” Soothing, it's gentle and soft as his thumb travels along the numb pads of your fingertips. And though it was already a faint sensation, you can tell his touches are deliberately featherlight and calculated, cautious. “Nothing to cry about.”

“I’m not crying,” You grumble, though his ears register the sound as a wet sniffle as you rub at your cheek with the back of your free hand. “I don’t do that.”

“Of course not,” The breathy lilt tongue voice gives it all away, a tiny smile dotting the man’s lips. They’re entirely too enticing, a sweet shade of pink that dispels into the milky tan of his skin. Sheen and glazed with what could be spit, your lips part to mirror the same smile. Though yours is larger, his isn’t any less exuberant— luring you in one centimeter at a time until, inevitably, his breath ghosts along the expanse of your jaw— you can almost taste him.

His voice breaks through the thickened silence, “But it’s okay if you do.”

The next two hours should go by just fine.

౨ৎ

“What does ‘default-judgment’ mean?”

Floorboards creak beneath Kento’s feet, dimly lit ambient lighting placed around the office keeps it lit just enough to see ever so clearly— a small lamp angled above an open file, then the remaining trickle of light cascading over photos. Labeled, dated, clipped, and shipped to his front door just a couple weeks ago. Soon to be released, relinquished, deadlined.

His hair drips with cold water, tiny drops dripping down to the floor while others slither down his neck, and pool where his back dips, just slightly. He doesn’t tense when he sees you— his muscles remain just as relaxed as they were in the shower— and his eyes barely widen past the tired, lidded expression that paints his face every night, before he gets his studying done. But you—

You’re the opposite. Your shoulders raise to your ears, eyes wide and unblinking as they stare at the towel wrapped around his thick, slightly hairy forearm— it’s navy blue, with a brown, horizontal stripe across its fabric, and embroidered letters you can’t quite make out. An intelligible sound, then an unexplainable expression, and— there you are, tripping over your own tongue as your hands shoot to cover your eyes. Only unclothed from the waist up, Kento can’t help the amusement blooming in his chest.

“It’s a deduction based on a defendant’s failure to answer. . or appear, in some cases, to a lawsuit or court.” Nanami’s eyes trace the part of your lips behind your palm as your brain processes (though, he doesn’t think that’d be the correct word for it) his words. They purse, quickly, tight lined, until parting again— once more, with less confidence. With each step he takes (long strides that make him appear as if he’s almost floating) he grows closer, strands of freshly washed angel hair sticking to his forehead.

“. S. . ure!” You smile and nod in faux understanding, fingers curling toward the dip of your hairline, eyes peeking through cracked fingers. From there, beneath your palms, an uncomfortable warmth blossoms from your throat up, settling in your cheeks and sprinkling across your nose— sweltering and tingly.

Kento tuts, a soft noise, and you watch as he inhales a deep breath, pine eyes perusing through the space between your fingers for eye contact. “. . . Don’t worry about all that.” And, as if he can feel the high voltages slamming against your heart, his tongue darts out to moisturize his lips, and his eyes fall to your chest. He sits aslant to you, legs spread wide with the occasional sway of his knee— but nothing too sudden. You’re made all too aware of his half-naked proximity, purportedly close enough to feel the warmth of his body radiating through the room— to smell the sweet undertones of vanilla, musk, and earl gray tea residing in his skin. In a low rumble he speaks, pulling lotion free from the drawer to your left. “Silver lining is: I’ll be out of your hair soon.”

Even as he leans forward, closer and closer, he doesn’t cage you in— even if your chest aches at the loss.

Your heart demands the conversation die after that. Beating so rapidly you assume it’s stopped, silence freezes the air as your hands slowly drop to your lap. Lips pulled with woe, darling eyes low and sodden in an instant. Shoulders dropped just enough to sound a sharp creak in the swiveling chair you’re sat in, your lashes clump with fresh, unshed tears. And, in a lapse moment of murkiness, Kento’s lips twitch into a frown of their own.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, as if afraid your response will confirm it— he’s what’s wrong. His choice of words— wrong. Thin brows furrowed, the dip of his chin has his lips ghosting your cheek.

“. . . Nothin’.” It’s worse. He’d expected tears— maybe even an exchange of fiery words— but instead you’ve shut down, hands balled up in the fabric of your flowy pants, denim bunched up and draped over your thighs. Completely silent, staring at nothing and everything— all in between— all at once.

“Nothing?” He echoes, a silent suggestion for more. The rumble in your ear is almost too much, for a moment you assume you’d conjured it up with your imagination. Too close, too bare, too blunt, too warm— too fleeting.

“Mhm,” When your gaze meets, his heart plummets to his stomach. “Nothin’.” Words rush to his tongue before they can catch up to his brain, and. . you look so . . sad. He’s never seen you so defected— nor had he thought the concept of giving up existed for you. So headstrong, determined to make things work, gears always shifting into overdrive when you can’t make something out. You’ve gone as far as to create your own definition— this isn’t you.

“It’s. . . inevitable,” Kento’s voice softens, dropping to a quiet whisper between just the two of you. “But not for a while,” Then shifts his weight back, pulling away as he speaks in some sick sort of oxymoron, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“But you will.” Grumbling, you’ve always been an open-book.

“Not forever.”

“. . . Ever,” You grunt, choosing to ignore the stern quirk of his thin brow. You’re a bit of a brat— Kento sees that now— behind the pouty lips and soft eyes, behind the large smiles and intimidating prowess. “When are you goin’?”

Nanami treads carefully, fingers wrapped around the closed bottle of lotion. With a snap it clicks open, and a generous amount is pumped into his palms. The smell is neutral and muted, but clean and fresh.

Kento tries not to lie— not unless he absolutely needs to. An unexplainable feeling, adjacent to panic, rises in his stomach as he lies, “Six weeks, at least.”

“Nami…” Ignoring the deadline he’d just given you, you ask, “D’you like your job?”

You watch his posture relax, as if the previous conversation was just as emotionally taxing as it was for you, for him. He sighs, pauses to think for a mere second, then shrugs. “I like its structure.”

“Oh.”

“I like helping people, too.” He adds, much more sincere. Your eyes trail the lotion as it’s rubbed into his biceps, his shoulders, his forearms. His fingers flex and muscles ripple, skin bouncing beneath his fingertips, and light traces of hair at his knuckles raising.

“Oh.” You breathe, eyes locked on his veiny hands. You suppose, in a way, your jobs are similar. You, too, help people out— you provide fresh food and crops, you herd cattle and brush the hair of healthy horses. A very hands-on job— it’s rewarding. “Me too. I— I like helping too. And. . .”

His fingers twitch, almost as if they can feel your gaze, but Kento makes no effort to move them.

Six weeks. Time is fleeting.

“I—” With trembling hands you lean forward, clasping Kento’s smooth knuckles against your palm. He’s just as warm as he looks, skin soft and sheen. His fingers flicker in your hold, straining as they tense— silently, asking, ‘what?’ as an increasingly overwhelming urge to keep Kento close washes over you.

It’s moments like these you’d wish you were better with words. To weave them together into something pretty, like a basket made for carrying fresh harvest. To pull apart and braid together an amalgamation of just the right phrases— ones that sound pretty and roll off the tongue. Some that sound soulful and genuine, yet effortless and forthwith at the same time.

Moments like these, where your breath is stuck in your throat and with every rise and fall of his chest you think you’ve lost some more— he’s taken it all from you— you wish you knew just what to say, to do, to bring that air back.

To have him melt at your words the way you do at his actions, to have him feel the same exact thing when your heart clenches in your chest like a rag that’s been wrung out to dry. Without trying, without straining. You wish you were smarter— better at this, as you lean so far from the chair it begins to squeak in protest.

You’re sure there’s better people in Tokyo. With better educational backgrounds, with cleaner jobs. People who have it all together, who have different skills and assets— who don’t stick to one thing simply because they have a natural born talent for it. People who are prettier, more handsome— perhaps more his type. People who have aligning career goals and paths— more accomplishments.

Sweeter, kinder. With softer hands and an easier understanding of city life.

People who are better with words. Who can weave them together into something pretty, like a closed case with no loose ends or dead leads. Who can pull apart and braid together an amalgamation of just the right phrases— ones that sound pretty and roll off the tongue. Who can make their confessions sound soulful and genuine, effortless and forthwith at the same time. All within the heart of Tokyo.

People who aren’t you.

Nanami stands, shuffling over to fix the documents you’d ruined— of course you did— but his face hasn’t changed from his usual tight-lipped expression. Sometimes it’s hard to read him, and it’s times like these you really wish you could.

“I like you,‘Nami.” You whisper to yourself, quietly pouring your heart out with each spoken letter.

And, with a snap, your world goes crumbling down. Increasingly silent, the world stops as you hit the floor and Kento’s chest stills— the soft, quiet beat of his breaths gone quiet, as if it were a mere memory to begin with. The backing of his swiveling chair falls with you, right to the floor, clattering much louder than the sound of your tense body, and—

“Forgive me if I’m wrong, but I think you have the wrong idea.” His voice is strained. Uncomfortable.

You’ve never felt more humiliated.

౨ৎ

Despite your humiliating attempt to hold onto it, time flies by. Locked away in your room— your only source of comfort being an occasional knock on the door from your mother and the weight of your blanket as it remains overhead. You’ve counted the seconds— tripped over your thoughts after reaching 1,633– started over again. You’ve listened to the pitter-patter of rain against your windowsill, peeked out from your cocoon to bet on a race between the raindrops.

You’ve thought about Kento, of course. So much it plagued you, made your chest uncomfortably tight— until all you could do was let out a humiliated groan all over again. It’s a timeless cycle, and yet, it grows closer to his leaving date.

You haven’t spared a glance toward the actual outside, even when your window overlooks his own study. You’re sure everything’s out of sorts now— weeds overtaking the farm, plants dried out or overwatered, any blooming vegetation snipped at the bud before it could bloom. Tough luck, they’ll get over it.

And, God, has your family tried. Through gentle words and offers of food, through soft praises that fell on deaf ears. Through frustration, too, anger laced in the sweetest yell of ‘where’d my smart boy go?’

Your eyelids feel heavy and thick. No longer swollen with tears or bloodshot with dejection— just heavy, simply tired. Sleep is all you’ve done these days, yet it feels like your body can’t get enough. Fifteen hours a day leave you straining for more, three hours a day leave you exhausted. You can barely remember when you last left your bed— for the bathroom, never for a drink— and even when your frown deepens as you think about it, you can’t bring yourself to fix it.

You can’t bring yourself to fix anything as of late, if it can even be fixed.

You were stupid for thinking he’d feel the same, anyway. A man like ‘Nami— a man like Nanami— so smart and so distinguished. So. . opposite of you, to think you’d fall anywhere near the same line as him. . is laughable, really. Even more so when you consider his upbringing. He doesn’t mention it much, and you try not to pry, but you consider his lifestyle quite traditional and cookie-cutter. You hadn’t even asked if he liked men.

“I think you have the wrong idea.”

His rejection physically pains you, a quiet sniffle and suppressed whine straining your vocal cords. Your nails dig into the fleshy, cushiony part of your palm. You can hear the pitch of his voice — rumbling and deep, you hear the shakiness of his breath—so deeply uncomfortable, cold with disgust. “I think you have the wrong idea.”

A knock to your door startles you awake, eyes wide open as your cocooned body flops around in bed. Still, you barely make an effort to respond, dry lips parting to form a garbled groan.

“Your. . . friend was at the door,” It’s your mother’s voice, but softer and pleading. For a moment your heart twists, eyebrows pinched as you suck in a sharp breath through your teeth— you can’t remember the last time you’d seen her face without slamming a door in it. “Looked tired, so I gave him some coffee. . .”

A bitter, disconcerting ‘so?’ nearly leaves your mouth— something so unlike your usual self, it makes you want to borrow deeper into your sheets and never leave. Shame. She doesn’t expect you to crack the door open. You shake your head, even if she can’t see you, only breaking your stubborn resolve when knocks once more, and slowly, you scuttle around the mess of your bedroom to unlock the door. Your eyes carry dark circles and heavy bags as your gaze pierces straight through her. Then, a shaky breath and barely audible whisper, “. . . S’it Nanami?”

Her aged smile is soft and thoughtful as she leans into the doorframe— something you haven’t seen in a while, and your eyes prickle with warm tears once more. “Between you ‘n me, you’re in much better shape.”

Cracking a smile nearly takes all your energy from you.

You don’t bother changing from your pajamas— they’ve always been so baggy to support the muscle you’ve grown over years of lifting heavy produce and working with truckloads— and now you’re grateful for it. Something to hide behind if you need it, and your fingers subconsciously curl into the fabric of your long sleeves for comfort. Once you get downstairs the two of you depart, and a gentle rub to your shoulder blades is all your mother offers before finding solitude on her own, just a few rooms away if you need her.

And— she was wrong. Of course, he looks tired. You can see it in his shoulders— they’re all wound up and tense, like they’d been when you first met. Sure, his jaw is tightened and you can hear the grind of his teeth against one another despite keeping your distance— but he still seems put together, albeit lacking his usual combover or corporate style of clothing.

It hurts to know he does well without you, as selfish as it may sound.

“Hi,” You mumble, rubbing at your face with the palm of your hand. Your voice crackles with disuse, rumbling and garbled in your throat. “Nanami. .”

“Hi,” He echoes, your name heavy on his tongue as he stands, leveling out the shared eye contact. Just Nanami. For a moment he’s at a loss for words— and it’s odd, typically he has an answer for everything. You remember asking why he’d buckle your seatbelt before his own, and his answer was always the same. You remember asking why he likes what he does— and they’d all circle back to enjoying the small things in life. His Kento’s lips part, taken aback by the loss of his nickname, but they close into a tight line with registration. Perhaps you’re just. . too much.

“I lied to you,” He begins, and your heart leaps to your throat. He clasps his hands together, resting soundly by his thighs as his head tilts downward, a silent plea. “And, for that . . . I’m sorry,” Kento releases a breath, hands coming undone to swipe away stray, gold strands of hair. “Don’t feel obliged to accept, I just— I like y— I want to show you something.”

It’s odd. The look on your face makes him want to scoop you up, to cradle you in his arms and hold you tight. And yet, he can see the cogs turning in your brain, the gradual loss of your frown and faux steel in your eyes as you shrug— he can’t even distinguish if you’re being reluctant or stubborn. Nonetheless, Kento smoothens the fabric of his coat, and makes a small, polite gesture to the door.

“Okay.” Your fist rubs sleep from your eyes, steps heavy and dragging along the floor as you slide your feet into brown bunny slippers— the same ones he’d worn when you officially met.

Stepping into the cold, crisp winter air, you both ignore the tremor to your bottom lip, “What were you gonna. . ?”

Not at all hard to spot, set alight by the glow or orange lanterns, it’s your farm. Oh, it’s much prettier than you could’ve ever imagined it. So clean, with pristine rows and neat placements of fresh soils. You can actually walk through it, as opposed to tip-toeing around like you used to. The air is crisp and fresh, just like you’d remembered it— but it feels better than before. And, dotting the horizon, fireflies dance into the night sky and blend into the twinkling stars. You don’t remember the last time you’d seen them— vision occupied by tall grass or obstructed by rusty tools. You could almost cry. Your breath catches in your throat, a gentle breeze brushing along your forehead and digging into the fabric of your clothes— yet you feel light and warm.

He did all this for you?

“Are you cold?” You blink hard, vision blurred with tears as Kento’s hand grasps your shoulder. “You’re shivering.” He’s quick to shrug off his coat, barely even flinching when the fabric dips into fresh mud, and loops it around your form with steady hands.

“M’okay. .” He frowns, barely visible, and the slight protests of being strong enough to tough it out die on your tongue. But it’s true, you don’t feel cold— not internally, at least. You feel light yet heavy, warm and airy. Heat pokes at your skin, ignites in the apples of your cheeks and trails down your throat. “. . . Thank you, ‘Nami. . . For everythin’.”

‘Why're you saying it like that?’ He wants to ask. As if it’s some sort of sick, roundabout way of saying goodbye. His movement stutters, lips curled into a small ‘o’ before reverting back to its usual, thin line; and he speaks, “I don’t just like you.”

Your fist tightens in his coat, fabric twisting to accommodate your grip.

“I. . admire you. Your strength, your weakness. Your baking. . Your smile, too,” He sighs, quiet and cautious. “Your laugh. I regret not telling you before. At first, I thought you were impulsive, and somehow abrasive, bu—”

You’ve never been one to hide from your feelings— you laugh when you’re happy, scowl when you’re angry, mope when you’re sad. So it’s no surprise to feel you smile; wide and unapologetic. It’s no surprise to feel the tremble of your fingers as they release his coat and land on his biceps. To feel the slow, shaking breath of air he releases at your silence— hearing his own slight sniffle at the nippy, cold breeze. You’re nervous, lips twitching as his chin dips, bashful as his lips intertwine with your own.

A kiss.

"’Nami," Laughing into his mouth, it meets the sound of your lips continuously meeting in breathless, heavy harmony. His lips are plush, soft and sweet, hungry and hasty, everything and nothing and all things in between. “I like you. I like you, I like you, I like you.”

You feel it now— the warmth enveloping his chest, the hard hammering of his heart against his ribcage. "Shit," He whispers, incredulous, and before slowly pulling away, cradles your handsome face between his calloused “I like you too.”

౨ৎ

Kento owns silk pillows. You can tell they’re imported from home— as they disturb the uniform colors of the crisp, cream comforter set blanketing his bed. It’s the first thing you notice, head sinking into the fabric as your eyes flutter closed, thoughts and breaths stolen with each wet, heavy kiss being pressed against your lips. His breath is hot and heavy, small groans and grunts leaving his parted lips, and— he tastes of chocolate.

“Kenny—” You gasp, but the sound of his name on your lips only eggs him on. Hot heat blooms in your stomach, tingling down to your tummy, so deep, something you’ve never really felt before. It tingles, almost, right through your thighs and straight to your cock, plumping up with each passing second. And his hands, god, are so quick and skilled— shedding you of your clothing as if he’s done it a million times before.

“Kenny,” You repeat, much whinier than before, tiny sounds leaving your lips as you squirm in his hold. “Mm, wait,” and his response is barely committal, a low hum that melts into a breathy sigh as your bare skin is exposed and your leaking cock springs free against your tummy. He coos, peeling the sticky fabric of your underwear free. Cute.

“Use your words,” Kento mumbles against your skin, running his hands along the silky smooth skin of the back of your thighs. “I know you can, you’re a smart boy.” You squirm with every touch, plush skin bouncy as you press your thighs together, cock sliding by your navel. And, even when you hide, he can see the precum smearing against your stomach, the tightening of your balls, and, now, your exposed hole winking back at him.

Fuck.

“Mm, don’t look,” You’ve barely convinced yourself, a choked out moan leaving your lips as his big, warm hand wraps around your cock and pumps. “That’s— oh, embarrassin’!” Slow, at first, trailing up the sensitive shaft and rubbing circles into the overly-sensitive head. Until his hand is slick with precum and his own spit, until your thighs are convulsing and you’re close to covering yourself in your own cum. Until you’re sobbing, pulling at his wrist with weak, clammy hands.

“I know, sugar. I know,” And the stifled cry you've been hearing belongs to you. “Feels good, hm?” His free hand grazes down your waist, thumbing at the dip between your hip and your thigh, then cupping the soft, plush skin of your pecs. “Feels better than your own hand, doesn’t it?” Kneading until your nipples harden against his palm, soft skin swelling around his fingers. And, oh, how pretty you are when you cry, overstimulated tears rolling down your cheeks and incoherent babbles leaving your swollen lips.

“Uh— huh, yeah,” Is barely breathed out, and Kento watches pre leak over his knuckles. Creamy and thick, sticky and sweet as your hips rock back and forth, to and fro. You just can’t help yourself, greedy boy, fucking into his fist like it’s the best thing you’ve ever felt and— oh.

It is.

“Messy boy,” He huffs, pressing his forehead against your own— damp and sticky. Your hand, preoccupied with fisting his sheets, is grabbed, and all you can feel is slick, hot heat. “Fuck your fist for me.”

“Wh- Huh?” It takes a moment for your brain to catch up to your hands, wrapped tightly around your cock as your hips buck— whines high and loud in your throat, keening like a puppy. It’s not at all paced, not like Kento, just pure desperation and need as your toes curl and your eyes roll back into your skull. Warmth rises in your face as your legs instinctively part, tingles spreading through your body and needy moans filling the air. Wet and sloppy, your hand is slick and soaked.

He travels lower, lips trailing down your throat, your collarbones— pausing at your chest. He watches the rise and fall, the slight bounce of your pecs as you pant like a dog. Pretty buds hard and sensitive, a gentle suckle is enough to make you arch from the sheets and keen.

“Good boy, that’s it,” You have the urge to get on your knees, to present all your holes to him, to spread yourself open with your fingers- fucking them in and out, in and out, just for Kento. It’s all too much, thinking of what’s next, what’s happening now, what’ll happen later.

Nanami lifts his shirt over his chest, the fabric bunching under your armpits as he keeps it pinned between his teeth, and you have no other choice but to flutter your lashes, watching as his pants are loosened and his cock springs free. Big. Thick and long— and, it seems his tan has traveled to his cock, too. Blushing at the tip, the sweet color of mocha, it disappears the further you look down. Curved, too, slightly past his belly-button and heavy against his navel. It's humiliating, the way your mouth waters almost immediately.

It’d feel so good weighing down on your tongue, fucking your throat fast and rough, making you gag and sputter— choking on your own tears and groans.

“Wanna. . I want. . .” You squirm where you lay, whining high in your throat as you find nowhere to hide— nothing to put your face against, nowhere to bury the drunk, hazy expression on your face.

“Want what?” He murmurs, pretty eyes trailing along the curves of your face before he places a sweet, soft kiss along the edge of your jaw. You take the grip on your waist as a slight indication— Kento’s patience is slowly waning.

“V’never. .” Your lips part into a gasp, eyes fluttering closed as his large hands travel along the expanse of your chest. “I wanna. . . feel you in my throat.”

The smart man he is, Nanami, never misses a beat. Pink lips splitting into a small smile, his thumb rubs circles against your skin. Still, you can feel the throb and twitch of his cock against your thigh, hard and almost leaking. “That’s ambitious, sugar.”

You don’t register scrambling up by your elbows, nor the amount of time it takes for your fingers to fail at wrapping around his cock. Your thoughts are muffled and hazy until a quiet chuckle sounds above you— rumbly and deep, and— ah, Kento’s hand is guiding your head back as he pulls your hands free. You’re panting for it now, mouth dropped open as the slurp and slick noise of his cock tapping against your tongue drops straight to your stomach. You could cum from this alone, without even a single glance toward the ache between your thighs.

"M'gonna be so good, promise, know I can do it! Want it, Sir," A clear habit of rambling when you’re nervous, a soothing coo leaves Kento’s throat. His tip smears along your pillowy lips, sticky and salty as pre paints your chin.

“Shit,” He groans under his breath, fisting his cock to ease the ache in his balls. “Slow. I don’t want to hurt you. Gentle, remember?”

You don’t. You can barely think, let alone recall something from another day. But you nod anyway, eyes glued to his cock as it bobs to and fro— pretty and weeping. You bet it’ll feel so heavy, weighing down on your tongue and nearly crushing your throat as you gag around it. He’ll taste good, too, salty and sweet as he buries his cock down your throat. With your nose pressed into the blond of his pubes, and his balls slick against your chin as they tighten and clench.

Yeah, you want him to cum on your face.

With a whiny nod you take his tip into your mouth, pink tongue over your teeth. In your head, it’s much easier— you can sink down to the base no problem— but in practice. . . You sputter and gurgle, leaning into the gentle touch caressing your cheek as your tongue traces the pulsing, thick vein cascading down his shaft. Through your pathetic whimpers and whines he mumbles— but it falls on deaf ears.

You stick out your tongue, cute and pink, latches onto your bottom lip, slicking his slit as he blinks down at you, pupils blown and wide as he praises you, voice smooth and buttery.

Through your own jittery, inexperienced suckling, his tip is smeared along your lips, slowly tracing your cupid's bow and bottom lip until a thin layer of pre has them glazed over and sticky. Your lips part, carrying a thin trail of creamy pre between them, as his dick slides in and out your hot, wet mouth. Spreading heavy along your tongue, swallowing around the head as his thighs tense, muscles flexing and rippling as they strain to keep still.

“‘Nami’s dick is heavy, sweetheart,” He’s gasping before you can fully take in the stretch of his cock, hips twisting as his eyes flutter closed. It’s been a while, you can tell, with the way his balls are clenched tight, his hand morphed into a fist— careful not to grip your hair. Your spit bubbles and pools around his cock, slick and wet, sliding between the seams of your lips and dripping down your throat, down your sternum, down his thighs. “And you’re taking it so well.”

Running your tongue along his big, veiny cock, his head falls forward— adam’s apple bobbing as he lets out a pleased moan. His cock fills your empty mouth, stuffing it full like a pre-lubed fleshlight, his balls slapping against your chin in sticky, wet plaps. Collecting drool, it froths between your lips and his cock, bubbly and white until your noises are sloppy and loud. “That’s it, good boy, take this load down your pretty little throat. . .”

Gasping on his cock, Kento’s hand holds you close, until you’re buried against his pubes, until your throat is squeezing and contracting and wrapped plush around the thick shaft of his dick. You can feel it, each and every twitch and throb, each hit, sticky rope that paints your mouth as he cums down your throat, ropes shooting down your tongue and sticking to the roof of your mouth. You’ve done so good, such a good boy, marked for Sir, offering a few hollow sucks to his spasming cock before he pulls you off.

You’d rather he paint your face, but you trust him, swallowing the bitter, salty cream as he whispers gentle praises.

“You’re perfect,” Kento mumbles through heavy gasps, rubbing away the fat tears that roll down your cheeks. Such a sweet, pliant boy, leaning into his touch as he gently pushes you back down, off your knees.

Now he’s got you folded, knees bent back in such a slutty, shameless display. The blond squeezes at his cock, his large hand sliding into a fist that clamps down around his beading, shiny slit, then slowly back down to the thick, veiny shaft. Yeah, that’s good, how it slips and slides with rhythmatic pumps. You’d like to imagine that’s how it’ll be when his cock is inside, stretching past your rim and splitting you open, sliding against your velvety walls until he fills you up with his hot, sticky cum.

“Spit,” he says, gentle at first, but hardening as your poor, pitiful attempt at spitting down your own cock turns into gurgles of drool and incoherent moans. He grips your jaw, angling it just right— till you’re resting back on your elbows and have enough space to land a warm, wet glob right down the slit. “Good boy. Look at me, pretty. Like this.”

You watch as he spits down onto his own cock, runny and wet, which stands as a reminder of its own. His fist is so big, but it’s not nearly enough to swallow his cock down. You watch it pop free from his tight grip, loud squelches with each and every movement. Every time he throbs, pulses, shifts— you hear it all.

“That’s it, atta boy, my good little cocksleeve,” You— it must be you, there’s no one else he’s speaking to. Still, with your hand squeezing your throbbing shaft there’s not much you can say, airy little moans and sweet, high gasps leaving your pouty lips as you buck— up, up, up. A thin trail of drool slips down your chin, warm and wet and— oh, that’s nice— trailing down your cock. “That’s it, stick your tongue out.”

You really do play the part, tongue on display as you fuck your fist silly, bumping slits with the blond. Soft and sticky, loud and wet squelching until his own large, warm palm envelops both your cocks, bumping and grinding and sliding so messy. You nearly burst into hysterics when the warmth is gone, and Nanami’s gaze tears away from the pre oozing between your shafts. “Ask Sir for more, angel.”

“Mm, waitwaitwait, don’t— don’t stop,” You keen, stumbling over your tongue. Your brows pinch, eyes glazed over with unshed tears. “Kenny— Sir, please.”

“Good boy,” All but purring, his hands roam along the plush, round mounds of your ass. “Yeah,” His dick slips between the slick skin of your perineum, dragging along the sensitive skin— the head of his cock catching on your rim when his thrusts turn too eager. “You’re a good boy, asking like that.”

“You like grinding on Sir's cock don’t you? Getting me all wet. . .” Just as warm and wet as he’d thought, cooped up in his office and fucking into his fist, lube gushes and trickles out with every deliberate, shallow rut forward. Your balls bounce and twitch, slick and shiny with a mixture of pre. Your moans, so pretty, high and nasally— incoherent and blabbering. The slurp of his cock goes straight to your balls, tightening as you whine like a bitch for it. And his grip, once gentle and steady, leads down to your ass, keeping it spread as he slides the big head of his cock along your pretty little rim, again, and again, and again. It’s more menuevering than bouncing, through your fucked out haze you try to think; you want him to ruin you.

A knot tightens in your tummy, tingling in your balls as your thighs tighten and your legs tremble— fuck, you’re cumming, hard and all at once, it catches you off guard and a choked squeal is knocked from your throat, rope after rope spraying along your own chest.

“I—” You sob, cock convulsing against your tummy as Kento groans. “I didn’t mean to— didn’t know, m’sor—”

He hushes you, a low growl in his throat as his eyes roam up your tummy, past your hard nipples and land on the splatter of cum collecting between the plush hills of your pecs. “S’okay, it just felt too good, mhm? I bet your pussy feels so good, baby— perfect, pretty little pussy swallowing up my cock.”

You don’t expect him to say that— that’s the last thing you expect, eyes rolling back in your skull as you moan, wholehearted and slutty. With the wet squeeze of lube along your bottom half, slicker and sloppier than ever before, your hole winks back at him. Your perfect, pretty little pussy. “That okay, sweetheart? Can Sir pound this hole till it aches for him?”

Your response is barely coherent, garbled sounds and babbling that roughly translates to ‘please’ as thick fingers prod at your tight, puckered hole. Your loud moans are hushed as Kento leans down, close to your ear. His fingers slide against your entrance, sticky lube sliding along with them and connecting to your puffy rim. They feel so big, so long and thick when he taps them against your hole, barely breaching the tiny gape of your rim. “Gonna get you ready for Sir’s dick, gonna finger that cunt nice and slow, get that sweet boy-hole stretched out.”

“Kenny,” You hiccup, uncontrollable tears streaming down your face as you reach forward to press his fingers closer, a tiny gasp leaving your lips as your entrance is breached. You don’t miss the groan you earn in return, deep and shaky as the man takes the opportunity to slip his fingers right in, past the burning stretch of your fluttering ‘cunt’ that sucks the digits deeper and deeper into your gummy walls. “Can take it, pound it, Sir.”

“Look at me, watch me, sugar. Watch Sir fuck this little hole full.” You squeeze your eyes shut for as long as the reluctant, bratty little part of your brain lets you before staring down into hazel. Until his fingers have you seeing stars and rocking back into them like a cock hungry slut, you’ve never felt more full until his cock kisses your insides, leaving you sloppy and open and full.

Your voice isn’t nearly as loud as the wet squelch and slap of skin against skin, his cock sliding in and out your puffy hole as lube gushes out around his dick in white ringlets. Like you’ve creamed on his cock, he can see it slip back inside with each thrust. Your knees over his shoulders, Kento hauls your body up, and with a tiny, wee and pathetic ‘ah!’ you follow suit, your cute little hole clenching and fluttering around his thick, leaking cock.

“Give me a little more, just a little more of this pussy,” You can’t contain the squeals and squeaks that leave your mouth when the blond pistons his hips, a bruising grip on your waist that only gets harder as he grinds his cock down into you. He’s filling you up so good, his balls slapping against your ass with each rushed, rough thrust that has your mind scrambled just as much as your guts. You can’t take it, hands scrambling to grab at something, anything that’ll keep you from screaming.

Pounding into you, your head falls back as you take it, nice and slow, stretching you out— fast and rough, steady and patient— Kento groans above you, bullying his cock inside, grinding while your hips squirm. Mouth open with an unending stream of moans, he breaks you in, turns you into his good boy— his perfect fleshlight. Wet little hole clenching and spasming, his weight pins you down as your greedy hole milks him for all he’s worth.

“Cummin’, Nami, s’too much— M’can’t—” Whining and crying, his touches go right to your head as much as they do your puffy hole."Kenny," you whine, long and pitiful, a pout of a noise that hits him right where you want it to, just as his cock does inside of you. You whine again when your rocking turns into frantic overstimulated grinding, reveling in the stretch of his cock and the rub of your prostate. He groans, thick and gravelly, hands coming up to squeeze at your chest.

“I’ve got you, c’mere, hold Sir’s hand,” He chokes out, feeling it too. The tightening of his balls, the way his dick aches and pulses inside you, the way his cum is starting to kiss your insides and spurt straight onto that small bundle of nerves— fuck, it’s so deep. His thrusts are hard and deep, thick rope after thick rope frothing around his shaft as he fucks it deeper inside. “So good for me,” You never want it to stop, not the pump of his cock, not the drag of his tip against your entrance, not the filthy sounds, not the cum filling up your hole till you can’t move. Your grip on his knuckles is tight, nails digging into the skin of his hands. “That’s it, such a pretty boy, cumming on my cock.”

A searing knot of pressure grows in your stomach, filling as you bear down on his cock and sob on your whimpers. For a minute you think you’re going to pass out, everything going dark as you spurt all over yourself, globs of cum spraying hard onto your chin and splashing back on the blond. He makes you ride it out, offering hard, shallow thrusts to satiate the erratic spasming of your hole, and places a few sweet, tender kisses to your sweaty jaw.

౨ৎ

You wake with a small moan, limbs racked in small aches as your body melts into silk sheets. It smells like him: warm, cozy, and comforting, like a hug. Grateful for the dim, ambient lighting of his bedroom, your eyelids flutter open slowly, and there’s not much to adjust to. You’re clean— its the first thing you notice, a faint scent of soap lingering on your skin as your aching body scrambles for Kento’s warmth.

“I’m here,” He says behind you, hairs on your neck standing straight as you blink at him. Carrying a glass of ice water and a plate of meringue cookies— whisked perfectly. Cute, cloud-like spirals that sit on a porcelain plate— the same ones he watched you make, a smile pulls at your cheeks. “Hungry?” The muscles of your biceps flex as you push yourself up, body subconsciously leaning toward the blond until he’s sat next to you, his touches gentle and fleeting.

He feeds you a cookie, watches your teeth sink into the sweet, then wipes away the remnants of sugar from your lips. So tender, your heart flutters when he takes a bite after you— an indirect kiss.

He swallows, throat bobbing, lashes batting against his high cheekbones, before parting his lips, “I was thinking of extending my stay.”

The room feels ten times brighter, ten times louder, and yet, your heartbeat overpowers it all.

“I like you,” The words tumble from your mouth, almost as if he hadn’t just spent the last hour taking you apart and building you back up. You have nothing to lose, and everything to gain. “I more-than-like you, Kenny.”

And, without missing a beat, Kento answers truthfully this time.

“I love you too.”

#domain reblog #raaaarrgggh #jumping around and biting people #i love this

[domain-expand-me]

stinky sukuna causing trouble once again!!

NOTE: yuuji is legal in this fic, incubus au

TOP MALE READER READ DNI

he whispered in his ear a tempting curiosity, and planted the seed of desire deep within him. for when it bloomed, it would be unstoppable.

it was a typical night for you, maybe slightly lonelier then some days. it was rare for such a mundane day to occur, but there were no complaints from you. it seemed normal when you went to sleep, a strange but pleasant feeling. you had seen a strange male in your dreams, black marks and clawed hands. last night was the closest he had gotten to you, whispering his name in your ear before you woke up in cold sweat. he had a faint mark on his body, and a grin. when a frantic, persistent, annoying knock woke you up at some ungodly hour in the morning.

you considered not opening it, hoping that whoever it was got the hint, until they started begging your name at your door. it was a familiar voice, one that you had always known. there was a familiar pink haired male at your doorstep, mumbling to himself and teary eyed. concern immediately welled up within you as you rushed to get him inside your small house.

he wasted no time in flinging himself on you, wrapping his arms around your neck and inhaling your scent in big deep breaths. whatever sleepiness you had was fully gone, and replaced with confusion. he was muttering into your neck, going a mile a minute and with a red blush blooming over his face. he took a deep breath, looked you in the eyes and repeated himself once more.

"i.. uh.. its a long story but i ate a cursed finger and its another long story but basically i have another entity in me and hes annoying and opens his mouth alot and talks to me in my headandhesanincubus." another loooong inhale before he spoke again. "andhesbeenputtingstuffintomyheadaboutsexandijustcantgetitoutofmyheadprobablybecausenowthathesinmybodyheschangingit."

he then looked at you, before his eyes drew to the waistband of your pants. "i uh, i uh.. its been on my mind.. i just can't get sex out of my head and i've been tired and .." he paused again, "sukuna won't shut up about it in my head, and tonight its been the worst its ever been.. ive been fantasizing about you and i need to see if what hes been saying is true.. please don't hate me.."

he even sat on your couch, staring at you with those big teary eyes, even grabbing your hand and rubbing his face against it. he sure was desperate, and plus it was your duty as his best friend, right?

_____________________________

he is so,, so eager for anything. you started off by making out with him, something that he took to like a champ, sweet moans were contained between your lips and he was more then eager to dwell deeper and deeper with newfound sin. he felt so energized by a simple make out session. he hoped that his energy came more from the excitement of doing it with you, and not what the demon inside his head was alluring to.

and when you pulled out your dick yuuji placed his arm against it, cooing at how it compared to his arm. this was the most quiet sukuna has been since he swallowed that damned finger. it felt like his body was in heat ever since you kissed him, and seeing your thick, pulsing length measure up against his arm made that heat in him burn in anticipation. he's jerked off to porn thinking of you, imagining you deep within him, the feeling of you pinning him against a wall and using his body for your own need.

at first sukuna whispered about how good it is to cuddle with someone, then it became how nice it would feel to have your warm, strong body cuddle against his. then it became planting thoughts in his head, making him wonder how big your dick is, or if you were as gentle in bed as you were talking to him. drilling fantasies was practically effortless given that the male jerked off every day and imagined it was you two instead. being a part of yuujis head meant that he knew everything, including that you were the easiest target in making him succumb, and break to his will.

and being near him just made you reckless, your festering desire to be in him and be connected to him made you do stupid things. he tenderly grabbed your dick, almost like he was trying to see how it felt on his hand, how the heat and weight felt. he could feel you throb freely in his hold, like it was inviting him to touch it, to touch you. and who was he to deny you? his eyes were blown wide, and everything about you from how you look to how you smell invited him closer to you. he was starting to get desperate, gruff whines mixing in with his pants whenever you roamed his body, faint whispers and begs to stick it in. your touch ignited the fire deep within his body, and he wasn't sure how much longer he could wait for you to put it out before it ingulfed him entirely.

he was sensitive, and so,, so tight. yuujis salmon hair was sweaty and he already cum from sheer anticipation of getting fucked. currently he was facing your ceiling, his sturdy thighs wrapping around your waist while you thrusted into him. his walls were as needy as he was, sloppy noises filling the room. his toned body was stained with milky fluids. so this is what its like.. fucked out, he thought that in bliss feeling you deep in him. yuuji could feel your powerful thighs piston, and your slick cock hit something deep inside. yet somehow, he still wasn't getting overstimulated. before all of this started, whenever he would jerk off to the thought of you he couldn't last more then a few minutes.. and boy did you not disappoint. you truly look as good above him as you do everywhere else, and the smell of you encompassing him would make him lightheaded in the best way possible.

"see, why deny it?" a cruel voice rang in his mind, making him wince, he tried to ignore it and closed his eyes, tensing. you paused, asking him if he was okay.

"don't deny your body yuuji, give it what it wants..take it for yourself.." it came in a faint whisper in his mind, the lust clouding his mind, tempting him beyond his imagination.

the only reason why he opened his eyes, was because you felt up something that made him jolt, and yelp out a moan. the feeling was so unfamiliar that he snapped his eyes open, seeing you stare at his pelvis in slight awe, and slight worry.

there was a faint glow of a symbol on his abdomen, something that would have made his blood run cold if it weren't that you were here with him, and if he wasn't deep in pleasure.

"he already saw it, dummy. why are you still denying yourself? he can clearly handle it." sukuna was getting impatient, annoyance tainting his words. yuuji didn't want him to ruin his first time, much less with you. if he could just ignore him for a bit long..

"if you won't dwell in your desires, i will.." he could feel a growing force in his head. "let me show you how its done.." and suddenly, itadori wasn't in control of his own body.

his thighs gripped your pelvis before sukuna pushed you down, clawed hand on your chest, sinking deep on your cock. he could see how your mind connected the pieces, seeing your friend transform into the demon from your dreams. his grin came on his face, his hand running over your face before his nail was right at your lip. sukuna peered over your face, gripping your chin. "miss me?" your grunt annoyed him as much as your frightened eyes. one deep, passionate kiss was enough to have your eyes gloss over slightly, and was enough to subdue you.

"now be a good boy," that grin came back on his face when you nodded. he sank on your cock, frothed cum leaking from his ass while he toyed with you. the mark on yuujis body glowed bright pink, and you couldn't help but reach out and touch it.

thats when those smooth, pleasured grunts turned into another yelp of deep nirvana. sukuna was gripping your sheets, tearing them and biting his lip. he himself seemed surprised, covering his mouth.

yuuji in his mind tried to gain control of his body, but the overwhelming force that sukuna had, and the inexperience of himself meant that he could only wait until he had more strength to gain back control. he was forced to watch everything, helpless.

"y'know, that boy really likes you, and you can keep up with me.." he got real close to your face, pleasured insanity running through his eyes and a blush on his face, which means we will see eachother alot more.." sukuna pulled back, gaining back his composure and running his hand through his hair, looked back down on you.

"now let me drain you until you're dry and begging for more.." that was the last you remember after being pulled into a kiss, a pleasurable dream that lasted for hours. the next thing you remember is being woken up by a naked yuuji panicking, and urging you to go wash up with him. and since when did you have all these markings all over you?

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PLEASE leave comments, or rbs for motivation !!

#domain reblog #hehehe rubbing my hands together #this is very good