bbykento

──── ୨୧ ────

he reveres each roll, each plump curve as a sign of wealth and prosperity. he’s not materialistic, nor is he one to care for societies opinions in the slightest, but he’s also not blind to the way people stare, and the way that they talk. if nothing else, he’s prideful - and that pride filters down to his wife, for is she not an extension of him? irrevocably his in the same way the fresh buds blooming in the garden are, etched in his image like the gilded halls of his temple. belonging to him as innately as each of his muscled limbs do.

he hears the servants chatter; look how well fed the kings darling pet is, how cared for and doted on she must be. their eyes follow you as you walk, delicate and barefooted, draped in the finest silks and jewels. freshly bathed and painted in a healthy flush, with your skin oiled and glowing as you lounge and eat freshly picked fruits from the garden. you eat with fervour, with pleasure, letting the sweet juice coat your fingers, slip in glistening dribbles down your chin and past the dip of your throat until he prowls across the garden and licks you clean, one great hand planted firmly over the swell of your belly.

But he quickly feels bad because you give him the silent treatment. Refusing his pets, hiding under tables. You even refuse grooming time!!! You loved when he would brush your hair for you!! (╥ ω ╥)

So while you’re sleeping he gently scoops you up with those thick arms of his. giving you small kisses and coos while you wake up. And when you try to escape, legs kicking and wiggling with all your might! he just traces your hole. His finger against it. Finally pushing in when you whined enough. His two thick fingers pumping over and over as he whispers small apologies to you.

“Oh, I know, I know, m’such a meanie. M’sorry I’ll never yell again okay? Bunny? You gotta answer or I’ll stop”

you were laying in bed, wrapped in fluffy blankets and waiting for toji to come to bed with you.

he popped his head out of the master bathroom, giving you a sweet smile. he had a towel around his neck, only wearing his boxers. he set the towel on the counter in the restroom before walking over to you.

he immediately laid himself on top of you and started play fighting with you. he grabbed your wrists and held you down, counting from ten to one like they do in wrestling. he let your wrists go once he got to one, cupping your cheeks instead.

he pressed a big kiss on your lips. you could feel him smile, but thats not all you felt.

you felt something scratch your chin.

you pulled away from him, looking at his cheeks with shock.

toji had stubble.

he never let his stubble grow out for some reason. you never knew why, but you had never seen it.

you looked at him with shock.

"what?" he asked with confusion.

you cupped his cheeks, staring at the stubble as if it was some kind of phenomenon.

it kind of was.

you brushed your thumb over the prickly hair, staring at the handsome man hovering over you.

toji realized what you were looking at and pulled away from your touch. he reached his hand up to touch the prickle of his cheeks.

"oh, i haven't shaved yet, been feeling lazy. i shave it tomo-"

"don't shave it!" you cut him off immediately. you shook your head and cupped his cheeks again.

"don't shave it." you repeated again.

"why?" he asked, touching the hairs on his cheek. he never expected you to react like this over something so small like stubble.

"just don't. if you do, im never kissing you again."

toji nearly gasped. he squeezed your cheeks together and leaned in close. "you wouldn't."

you tried to smile but he was squeezing your cheeks too hard. you just hummed and pulled him in for another kiss.

he tilted his head just enough so his chin could rub against yours, making you squeal when the stubble scratched your chin. he laughed against your mouth, not believing you could get so flustered over prickles of hair.

soft sukuna with overly affectionate clingy fem!reader >3

m.list

soft sukuna tries to act like he’s annoyed when you follow him from room to room, but he actually slows down his walking pace so you don’t trip while you’re trying to hold onto his sleeve.

soft sukuna will be sitting down trying to look serious, and when you climb into his lap and bury your face in his neck, he lets out a really long sigh, but his bottom two arms immediately wrap around your waist to hold you steady.

soft sukuna has a special way of head-patting you where he uses his big hand to cover your whole head, and even though he says "you're such a pest," he’s actually using his thumb to pet your temple really gently.

soft sukuna gets very quiet when you're being extra clingy in front of other people; he won't look at you, but he’ll reach back and grab your hand, squeezing it so tight to let you know he likes the attention.

soft sukuna pretends he hates it when you use his chest as a pillow, but if you try to move away because you think he's uncomfortable, he’ll grunt and pull you back closer until you’re tucked right under his chin.

soft sukuna lets you play with his extra eyes and face markings when you’re bored, and even though he tells you to "stop touching the king," he actually closes all four of his eyes and starts to drift off to sleep because he likes the feeling of your fingers.

soft sukuna always makes sure you’re wearing one of his robes when it’s cold, and he’ll act like he’s just "tired of hearing you complain about the chill," but really he just likes seeing you drowned in his scent and clothes.

soft sukuna has a habit of resting his chin on top of your head whenever you’re hugging his middle, and he’ll start humming a low, rumbly sound that feels like a cat purring just to make you giggle.

soft sukuna secretly loves it when you’re needy and ask for kisses; he’ll roll his eyes and say "you're so demanding," but then he’ll give you like five kisses all over your face until you're smiling.

soft sukuna gets a little bit protective when you're not touching him; he’ll literally hook a finger into your belt loop or the back of your shirt just to keep you within arm's reach at all times.

soft sukuna lets you brush his strawberry pink hair even though it takes forever, and he’ll sit perfectly still on the floor while you put little clips in it, only complaining when you accidentally pull a tangle.

soft sukuna loves when you fall asleep on him; he’ll stay in the exact same position for hours, even if his legs go numb, just because he doesn't want to wake you up from your nap.

soft sukuna sometimes gets overwhelmed by how much he wants you, so he’ll pin your hands above your head and growl softly about how dangerous it is to be this clingy to a curse, but then he just ends up peppering your neck with soft, slow kisses and bites.

soft sukuna likes to pull you onto his lap while he’s sitting on his throne, whispering into your ear about all the things he wants to do to you later, while his hands wander just a little bit lower than your waist to make your heart race.

Every woman brought to his estate understood the rules of survival before they even crossed the threshold.

You bowed until your forehead touched the tatami. You spoke only when spoken to. You anticipated his moods, read the terrifying language of his four eyes, and offered flattery or tears depending on what type of amusement he was seeking that day.

To center your entire existence around Ryomen Sukuna was the only way to ensure your head remained attached to your shoulders.

Except you didn't.

You hadn't knelt when he first entered your quarters three months ago. You had been lying on your side, propped up on an elbow, reading a translated scroll from the northern provinces, and you had merely shifted your gaze to look at him, entirely unimpressed by the sudden, heavy drop in atmospheric pressure that usually accompanied his presence.

"Stand when I enter," he had commanded, his upper eyes narrowing into dangerous, ruby slits.

You had turned a page. "Then leave and enter again. Perhaps I will feel like it next time."

having ryomen sukuna as your boyfriend is like having your own six foot four two hundred thirty pound body guard and you absolutely love it.

“seatbelt.” he’ll say when you hop into the passenger seat of his truck and immediately go to fix your mascara in the mirror instead of ensuring your own safety.

“is your location on?” he’ll ask as you’re actively using his forearm as a support beam to hurriedly slip on a pair of dangerously high heels so you can meet your friends waiting outside.

“when i call ‘n check up on you, you answer, got it? y’know i’ll come find you if you don’t.” he’ll kiss into the crook of your fragrance oiled neck before you leave.

and whenever you’re in public with him you can literally just turn your brain off, because why would you need to think when your boyfriend can do it for you?

like when you’re strolling outside on a summer day, features illuminated gorgeously by the sun’s golden rays. lips freshly glossed and phone held out in front of your face as you try to get the angle right for your selfies. just as you go to snap the picture you distractedly take a step towards the asphalt to cross the street without looking, only to get photobombed by a large hand reaching out, palming your forehead like a basketball and pulling you back onto the sidewalk.

or how about when you’re tugging him through the mall and on your way to your seventh store, your shopping bags laddered up his left arm and your arm looped around his right, dainty finger tips brushing against the slightly raised lines of his tattoos as he follows your lead and listens to you go on and on about whatever the fuck.

and you’re just strutting beside him without a worry in the world in one of those skimpy little skirts he absolutely fucking despises (but paid for anyway) when your lip gloss accidentally slips from between your manicured hands and clatters onto the ground.

as soon as sukuna hears you go ‘oops!’ he’s already stepping behind you to shield your backside from view with his body because you’re bending right over to pick it up without even thinking about who you might flash, or who’s ass he might have to beat for looking too hard. and as the ever yearning man he hates to admit he is, he can’t help but let his head weigh down a bit to selfishly steal a glance at those pretty pink panties you’re wearing and lick his lips at how deliciously they cling to your cunt.

he’s suddenly grateful for your shopping addiction, as he can now use one of your many bags to hide the bulge tightening within his pants as the two of you continue walking. maybe that skirt isn’t so bad, he thinks.

.

.

.

sukuna was tired of the bitchy girls he always had to deal with — wether they were from a one night stand or a girl that got hooked from his flirty antics, it always ends the same way — he rejects them and they run off to start rumors.

so yeah, he was done with girls. okay,maybe not completely, he still had some late night fucks after a party, but not without making clear that's where it ends. but other than that, he basically quit the game.

imagine his surprise when he fell in love with a stranger not even a week after that. yes, you heard that right, he the playboy himself fell in love. no less than with a girl he didn't even know before.

it wasn't an extraordinary day or night, just their usual frat parties where half the campus would come to drink or make out with someone. except this time, his eyes landed on a woman who couldn't look more out of place — even while being dressed up all pretty, a look on her face like she couldn't wait to get back home.

if someone told him that not even ten minutes after spotting you, he would have a conversation about how he had the perfect nipple atonomy for piercings, he would laugh or look at them like they were crazy. except this time, he's not laughing.

"i'm serious, have you never thought about it? they are like the perfect size and color." he's unsure how to respond — he's not even sure if he should answer at all.

"...no? i mean maybe? like one or two times." his usual confident, flirty voice falters, like it's the first time a girl talks to him without showering him in compliments. like he's expecting you to laugh it off and tell him you're joking.

well, you're not. "you probably should, dude. but don't let the same piercer as the one who did your eyebrow piercing do it. it's really off center." sukuna takes in second to replay your words in his head, and when they finally connect, he looks like he aged ten years.

"excuse me?"

you don't seem to notice his passive aggressive tone, or you just blatantly chose to ignore it. "yeah it should be way over here. yours almost looks like an centered one." you apparently also don't notice the way he genuinly flinches when you reach to point with your finger at the right placement.

he doesn't even try to look or understand where you're poking him — he's just looking at you with a dumbfounded expression. and god knows why, he felt fucking butterflies in his stomach, a warm feeling spreading in his chest.

there's just no way he, out of all people is feeling a spark because a girl is criticising his uneven piercing. he pushes the thoughts aside and a small smirk forms on his lips. "you know, that's not how i thought the conversation was gonna go."

and bless your heart, because you genuinly have no idea what's strange about this conversation. "oh, i'm sorry, did you want to talk about something else?" you sound extremly worried all of a sudden, like you didn't mean to hurt his feelings.

your strange personality doesn't seem to shy away the man infront of you — no, he's even more intrigued now. "how come i don't know the name of such a pretty girl?" it's supposed to be flirty, but sukuna should probaly have known better.

"that's probably because we never talked before. usually people tell you their name when you meet for the first time. otherwise people may think you're stalking them because that's kinda creepy knowing someone's name without asking y'know. but i know you're sukuna, not because im some weirdo who's stalking you it's just you're known as the community dick no offense intended."

the more you ramble on the more sukuna looks like any hope he had to take you to his room left his eyes. he probably should've known you wouldn't take the hint — definetly his fault. after a second of processing your speech his eyebrows shoot up in a mix of confusion and offense?

"...community dick?" his mouth open and closes like he wants to add something to his queestion but he has no idea what to say. the worried look on your face returns for the second time this evening, realising you're talking before thinking.

"no, yes, kind of? there's like nothing wrong if you like pleasuring women , actually that's like really nice of you, it's kinda empowering y'know like feminist and all."

any sign of seriousness leaves his expression and a rare sight for the fratking — a genuine laugh escaping him at your poor attempt of sweet talking yourslef out of calling him a slut.

there aren't many moments where sukuna actually really laughs when talking to girls — a charming smile being all it takes for most to drop their panties.however, it seemed like you had no interest in dropping anything at all.

except for your drink.

right on his bare chest.

it was an accident — truly, someone shoved you off balance and your drink spilled right on his abs, the sudden cold liquid making him hiss at the contact.

his eyes look down at his muscles seeing them drenched in a sticky substance, the alcohol making it's way down to wet his pants.

you gasp, hand covering your mouth. "oh my god — i'm so sorry. there are like no napkins anywhere near— wait i have an idea." he's about to tell you it's no big deal, he was shirtless after all — he could just jump into the pool or whatever but he stops dead in his tracks when you bend down.

right until you're face to face with his stomach.

he's about to ask you what you're doing — but freezes instead the moment your tongue darts out to lick the drink. "wh-what are you doing?" he sounds genuinely at a loss of words. you only answer after making sure no liquid would have time to go under his pants. "all good! your pants are totally save now no worries."

well he is worried — just not about his pants, but the boner he hopes you won't notice. he's unsure if this was supposed to be some kind of seducing tactic — but looking at your innocent expression he discards that idea. you really had just licked a man who you met ten minutes ago and looked like you had no idea how it looked to anyone watching.

there's a rare pink tint at the tips of his ears and he opens his mouth to say anything — but closes it once he realises he has no clue what to say. he also really doesn't know if he should feel as turned on as he is.

"thank you..?" it comes out like a question, like he's unsure if he should be thanking you. you're either ignoring his bewildered expression or you just don't even notice it at all.

"you're welcome. no prob." there's a moment of silence, neither of you knowing what to say until he breaks it.

"so is there a chance i can get your number?" to make sure you understand where he's going with this he adds, " romantically."

“What do you mean she won’t eat?” Sukuna asks, tapping the side of his face in frustration.

“Well.. we’ve been bringing her food.” one servant mentions,

“She just leaves it by the door untouched.” another one spoke,

“Or.. we find it in her trash.” The third one standing before him lets out quietly.

Sukuna groans to himself hearing the last sentence, dragging a hand over his face.

Moments later he bursts through your doors, your ladies in waiting behind him carrying his dinner, enough to share for two. Jumping at the sound of his rough footsteps you turn around to see them setting up. Your brows furrow at the sight, turning around the flow of your dark curls follow.

“You.” He points, “Get over here and eat right now.”

‘hmph’ you ignore him, nose turned up to the ceiling as you continue to face away from him. The next words coming out of his mouth in a more slightly angered tone, “If you don’t get over here right now, I’m gonna walk over there and hand feed you myself.”

Silence.

You knew he wasn’t going to do that, he wouldn’t dare. Your servants leave after helping him set up, and he just plops himself down in front of the table, staring at your back. The view striking enough to make him tug at the collar of his robe, your hair reached your mid back, luscious and healthy. “Must I really hand feed you in order to make you eat?”

Once again not answering him, he finds himself conflicted about how to approach this, exhaling deeply, “Hey. I’m talking to you.”

You act as if he’s not even there, walking around your room like a huge man bigger than your average isn’t sitting in the middle of it, trying to ignore the smell of the delicious food sitting on the table in front of him. Yet the smell of fresh white rice filling your nose only makes your stomach rumble desperately, sending you signals to pick up something, anything.

The corner of his mouth tugs at the sound of your stomach rumbling. He sighs, leaning on the palm of his hand, stirring the bowl of hot soup, “You know.. Had you finished your meal like a good girl, I was gonna have them bring you some sweet mangos.”

A very telling look on his face as he dramatically signs again, shrugging. “But, if you won’t even bother..”

“I guess I could have them for myself, you know they’re the sweetest in the spring.” he drags, noticing how your mouth is basically watering at the mention. Mangos are your favorite fruit, and he knows that. After a second of contemplating, you walk over to sit on the other side of him. Looking down at the steamed food, he watches you finally take your first bite of food in days.

Why you weren’t eating was neither here nor there, he’s just happy you’re eating. The two you finish the food quietly, and to no surprise you wanted more. So, seconds came pretty fast and you find yourself leaning back a bit and rubbing your very full belly.

A sigh, a smooth sound of how content you were comes out. No time wasted from him to have your treat he promised in his hands, the smallest, most peaceful smile rested against his lips.

“See. Look at you, feeling all better now that you’ve eaten.” he praises, sitting next to you as he holds up a fork with mango on it. ‘ahh’ you open your mouth awaiting for the very king of curses to feed you. Which he does so with no complaints.

“Whatever.” you grumbled, face full of mango.

The heavy oak door to your chambers had barely clicked shut before Zayne's lips found your neck, his large hands already working at the laces of your nightgown.

"You're impatient tonight, Your Grace," you breathed, though you made no move to stop him.

"Hush." His voice was a low rumble against your skin. "I've been in council meetings for six hours listening to the old baron droning about grain taxes. Let me have this."

It doesn't take long till both your moans shadow the ominous creaking of the bed and the rattling of various ornaments in the room.

...

Your two handmaidens, Elara and Mina, look up as they hear the noise, before facing each other and shaking their heads, scurrying out before they traumatise their poor ears.

"I swear by the gods," Mina whispered, her cheeks flushed crimson even as she pressed a hand to her chest, "last week I went up to fetch my embroidery scissors. I forgot he'd returned from the border. The things I heard..."

Elara winced. "How long did it take you to recover?"

"Three days. I walked past the door at the wrong moment." Mina's voice dropped to a horrified hush.

They rounded the corner into the servants' stairwell, where the stone walls offered blessed, deadened silence.

"The new stable boy asked me yesterday why no one goes to the east wing after supper," Elara said, adjusting her wimple. "I told him it was being renovated."

"Renovated." Mina let out a choked laugh. "That's one word for it."

...

Down in the kitchen, the cook had taken to serving late-night tea with a knowing look and a sympathetic pat on the shoulder for any servant who emerged from the upper floors looking particularly haunted. The head housekeeper had a rotation schedule that mysteriously exempted the entire eastern corridor from evening duties. Even the guards had been known to draw straws for who had to walk the night patrol past the Grand Duke's chambers.

"The chandelier," one guard had whispered to another just last week, his face pale. "I watched it swaying. And no windows were open."

...

Upstairs, oblivious to the quiet terror they had inspired among the staff, Zayne's hand braced against the headboard as the bed (solid oak, reinforced twice by a skeptical carpenter) protested loudly beneath you two.

"Ah...Zayne...the bed..." He drove deeper, hooked his hips just so, and your warning dissolved into a sound that would have made a nun blush to the tip of her toes.

"Don't worry about the bed, my duchess," Zayne growls against your throat. "It's not more valuable than your pleasure."

He hikes your leg up higher over his shoulder and thrusts deeper, dissolving whatever you were about to say into a loud moan. ...

There is a thud and a sprinkle of plaster and ash, and a porcelain vase wobbling dangerously close to the edge of its console table, and your handmaidens, chef and two of the night guards stare at each other awkwardly.

"Do you think," whispered Elara, "they realize we can hear them from the kitchen?"

minors dni

it's no surprise that sukuna does not shave. i mean have you seen him? there's just no way a man like him would waste time doing something so meaningless. especially because he knows how much you like it.

everytime it always happens the same way — you're laying in bed with your husband, your head on his chest — the closest you will come to him cuddling while you're still awake.

you're casually tracing shapes on his arms, chest wherever you can reach comfortably — he would never admit it but the feeling of your fingers caressing him so softly makes his usual tense body relax.

"are you done petting me like a dog?" there's no real bite to his voice — quite the opposite — he sounds like he's almost purring but trying to show he doesn't actually enjoy it.

you just hum, ignoring him, letting your hand trail down his chest, stopping to touch his chiseled abs, appreciating the view. your eyes trace down lazily, taking in the v-line dipping into his boxers.

but your eyes get stuck on something else — the thick pinkish hair going from his bellybutton all the way down to his waistband, dissappearing under the material. lowering your hand to touch the hair with your pointer finger, you start playing with the hair, moving up and down — even pushing down his boxers a bit to have better access.

"i love your hair. it's like a map leading to your dick." the way you say it so casually has sukuna almost choke on his breath — which doesn't happen often. he looks away from your face to look at the hand touching him, the sight making his cock twitch in his underwear.

"i'm trying to sleep woman, stop talking about my cock." the bulge forming between his legs is almost ironic. ignoring his weak protest, you lower yourself until your face to face with his happy trail. when you give the hair a small kiss he visibly tenses, a grunt escaping his mouth.

you don't stop at one peck — your lips moving from the top down until you reach the waistband of his boxers. "so pretty." you sigh against his trail — and sukuna? he has no idea how to react — he's not used to women swooning over a patch of hair on his stomach.

ignoring the obvious boner, you continue kissing and licking, making him groan — his dick aching, begging to be touched. "want to see where the trail ends?" his voice is rough, hands moving to push your head down.

it's no surprise that sukuna does not shave. i mean have you seen him? there's just no way a man like him would waste time doing something so meaningless. especially because he knows how much you like it.

everytime it always happens the same way — you're laying in bed with your husband, your head on his chest — the closest you will come to him cuddling while you're still awake.

you're casually tracing shapes on his arms, chest wherever you can reach comfortably — he would never admit it but the feeling of your fingers caressing him so softly makes his usual tense body relax.

"are you done petting me like a dog?" there's no real bite to his voice — quite the opposite — he sounds like he's almost purring but trying to show he doesn't actually enjoy it.

you just hum, ignoring him, letting your hand trail down his chest, stopping to touch his chiseled abs, appreciating the view. your eyes trace down lazily, taking in the v-line dipping into his boxers.

but your eyes get stuck on something else — the thick pinkish hair going from his bellybutton all the way down to his waistband, dissappearing under the material. lowering your hand to touch the hair with your pointer finger, you start playing with the hair, moving up and down — even pushing down his boxers a bit to have better access.

"i love your hair. it's like a map leading to your dick." the way you say it so casually has sukuna almost choke on his breath — which doesn't happen often. he looks away from your face to look at the hand touching him, the sight making his cock twitch in his underwear.

"i'm trying to sleep woman, stop talking about my cock." the bulge forming between his legs is almost ironic. ignoring his weak protest, you lower yourself until your face to face with his happy trail. when you give the hair a small kiss he visibly tenses, a grunt escaping his mouth.

you don't stop at one peck — your lips moving from the top down until you reach the waistband of his boxers. "so pretty." you sigh against his trail — and sukuna? he has no idea how to react — he's not used to women swooning over a patch of hair on his stomach.

ignoring the obvious boner, you continue kissing and licking, making him groan — his dick aching, begging to be touched. "want to see where the trail ends?" his voice is rough, hands moving to push your head down.

Synopsis: You’re a witch known for making love potions. They're fake. The reviews are real. Your track record? Immaculate. Until a duke walks in, covered in blood, and demands you reverse the spell you cast on him. You didn't cast anything. He doesn't care. And now you live in his mansion.

Love Potion or Love at First Sight?

"Are you sure this is it?"

"Yes yes! This is the love potion. Now pay up or leave because I have other customers to attend to!"

You groan at the woman hesitating in front of you, wasting your time.

You're an infamous witch known in the black market for selling all types of spells and potions for a hefty sum.

Your most popular item? The love potion.

Which is actually just… an aphrodisiac.

But after selling 170 potions? You've only ever received positive reviews. All from noblewomen, lovestruck and happy with the results.

What can you say? You've always known men to be lustful creatures, barren from emotions. After selling a 170 with zero bad reviews? Your ideology is proven correct.

"Are you sure it works?" the woman whispers.

"100% customer satisfaction guaranteed!"

She still looks nervous.

"And if it doesn't work, you can come back and I'll give double your money back as refund."

The woman nods. Pays. Leaves.

Another positive review, you think to yourself. Already confident and marking this as your 171st success.

…

You just didn’t expect your first bad review to appear right in front of your face.

The door slams open.

A man stands in your doorway.

Black hair. Red eyes. Blood splattered across his face, his clothes, his sword.

"So," The bloody man starts.

"You're the witch selling cheap love elixirs all over the market."

You don't answer. Your hand slides toward the defense charm under your counter.

Because this wasn’t just any man, this was the war-crazed duke feared by all of society.

"You better pay for this."

…Guess you'll be closing the shop for a while.

"open the door [Name].." he whispered from the other side, and you nearly did.

god he was soo sweet right now, so ever lovingly gentle. and you knew. you knew that if you opened the door he would be nothing short of beautiful and sweet and everything you'd ever want him to be.

"i can hear you seeetheart, don't be scared, this isnt my blood anyway."

what a sickening thing to say. his blood or not you wouldn't be able to unsee the choked gurgling from the man your prince decided to partially decapitate.

"[Name], baby..don't fight with me please? I love you so fucking much, I would never hurt you and you know that.."

"I...you promise?"

Hook, line amd sinker.

"Just open the door i'll show you..."

You creaked the wooden board open by a sliver, Anoul immediately pulled you into his arms, uncaring that the blood from his clothes was melded into your chest now.

He didn't waste another second, pulling up your face into his lips and covering you in kisses. Rather bloody ones.

"My prince I–"

"My princess? Come." He cut you off by lifting you up and into the room you were just hiding in.

"[Name], you know you can never leave me, not even in death right?" His face was nose to nose with yours.

♡ ྀི꒱ᩙ ࣪   ׅ   ⊹ kento covers himself while eating u out !

kento is the biggest munch you've ever been with! he'll eat it for breakfast, lunch, & dinner if he could（and trust me, he absolutely tries to !）

but there's one little peculiar thing he always does . .

he always covers himself with a blanket over him while his face is buried deep in your sweet core. when he did it the first time you two ever got intimate, you just thought it was something he did out of respect for you and you wouldn't put it past him to do something like that so you let it be.

as time went on though, he continued doing this and so you couldn't help wonder why. so today you decide to find out just that.

while he's ever so sweetly lapping at your slicked folds, you very slowly lift up the blanket and peek in to see your beloved. he doesn't seem to notice at first since you're still letting out those cute whimpers of yours. but then, he soon hears a soft giggle from you and that makes his eyes shoot up to look at you.

and gosh, he looks so goddamn cute & sexy at the same time — so greedily suckling on your puffy clit and stretching you out with those thick fingers of his, it's like he's completely lost in the moment. then . . his eyes flit up to meet yours whose peaking so adorably with that pretty smile on your face.

kento stops like he'd just been caught doing something naughty（technically he had been!）and then his entire face flushes a shade of pink, smushing his cheek to your inner thigh. you'd never seen him get flustered like this & you genuinely feel your heart do flips at how cute he looks.

"honey . ." he mutters, squishing his face even more into the plush of your thighs. ". . what are you doing?"

"just looking at my lovely boyfriend." you muse, running your fingers through his hair. "because he's always hiding himself when he's eating me out."

the flush on his face gets darker as he lets out a tiny groan, embarrassed & bashful. ". . i just get shy about it, sweetheart. i don't know why but i just do."

your heart flutters at his adorable admission, and with that, you lower the blanket back down & you can hear kento hum in delight as he dives right back in to devouring you ❤︎ !