catboy Choso

As you’re opening up the rickety wooden drawer even further, it clatters mockingly up at you. At your flabbergasted expression—you were sure it’d been at least a third more full the last time you opened it up. At the way you’re bending down and peering in, as if expecting to see the rest of your panties and bras somehow hidden away inside.

Nothing.

You shut the drawer and straighten up silently.

The rest of your laundry sits idly at the foot of your bed, though the last thing on your mind was attempting to finish your folding. You don’t think you could’ve succeeded in doing so even if you tried. 

Because you already know who did this.

Hell- there was only one other person living in your snug Tokyo apartment. It would be impossible not to be him.

Your roommate of five months.

Your hybrid.

The ever-nervous, ever-sweet, ever-handsome Choso Kamo.

You remember the day you got him as if it was yesterday: that phone call that changed everything. The massive hybrid shelter in your neighborhood had been holding an adoption program; in which humans could sign up to be caretakers and companions for hybrids freed from large-scale mills and facilities that raced to churn out the most purebred hybrids. All shapes and species—from the deep underbelly of having a society where humans and hybrids co-existed. 

Mostly temporarily, of course - until the hybrids chose to pursue jobs, education, and whatever else it is that they wanted to do. 

Tokyo JSH (Jujutsu Shelter for Hybrids) wasn’t just a simple rescue operation; but their territories spanned far and wide from medical facilities, to rehabilitation, to temporary homes, to this current matching program that let the public get a more hands-on method to volunteer. Led by Ieri Shoko - a caracal hybrid herself - it was one of the most famed for their sheer number of hybrids taken in and reassimilated into society. You yourself had volunteered for JSH on a few occasions. 

And having a soft spot for hybrids, you barely thought twice before signing up for this new program. 

The registration process had been long and tedious - though you didn’t blame them. Columns upon columns of forms to fill out. Towers upon towers of medical checks for you yourself. They investigated your apartment, they investigated your job, they investigated your personality and ability to house a troubled hybrid temporarily—until they could get back on their feet.

And even longer than the registration process had been the waiting process. 

It’d been months- almost a year before you heard back from the shelter - and by then, you’d begun to think that perhaps they hadn’t found you suitable after all. But then…then it’d happened.

Then you’d been rung by none other than Dr. Ieri Shoko herself. 

The fuzzy-eared doctor had asked you to come into the shelter the very next day, if you were still up to it- and of course, you were up to it!

Spiffed and spruced. Smoothing down your best outfit - for you did want to give a good first impression - you were outside the doors to Tokyo JSH before they’d even been unlocked. The teenage employee in charge of opening those double doors had shot you a strange look as you waited patiently for them, but that didn’t matter—you were about to meet your newest roommate. 

Of course, you were aware that it wouldn’t be all sunshine and daisies and- and whatever else the saturated infomercial playing on loop inside the shelter lobby showed. But at the very least, you hoped by the end of this, you’d be making a lifelong friend out of this - to help someone without expecting anything back…if not a friend then you hoped you’d at least be making a change. And that’s why you were here.

Dr. Shoko had entered the shelter not too long after the infomercial’s 50th loop. 

She seemed somewhat surprised to see you here so early - no doubt the first volunteer she was seeing for the day - though her effortlessly composed features didn’t betray a thing. You, however, were feeling a churning amalgamation of nervousness and excitement that you’re sure showed. 

Though she was kind enough not to point it out, “You’re here early.” And with that, you were being led to the separate patients’ ward.

The air was thick with saline and tension—and the acrid smell of adrenaline. Bed after bed. Each one had their white curtains drawn, and out of respect you didn’t dare peek inside - instead you kept your eyes fixed firmly on where you were going.

So much so that once Shoko stopped in her tracks, you almost bumped into her back. 

Hastily, you looked up to find that…this, too, was a bed obscured by thick white curtains. Only, that was where the similarities between this hybrid and the others stopped: lost in your whirlwind of thoughts, you hadn’t realized that Shoko had led you to the sole bed at the end of the hallway - the one at least twenty-five meters away from all the other hybrid patients. 

Solitary. Silent—no hums or growls that emanated from beyond the opaque partitions. 

Sectioned off, almost. 

It made you wonder just what sort of hybrid - you looked at the chart hung up at the foot of the bed - Choso Kamo would be. 

According to the other notes on the chart, they were a dog hybrid like most of the others here—Canis lupus familiaris. And to be more specific, Choso was said to be a Great Dane. 

And though you had better manners than to engross yourself in someone else’s medical chart, you couldn’t stop your eyes from wanting to read even further. Quickly finding out other such details like his gender, his age, his height (6’4 was to be expected as a Great Dane hybrid…but nonetheless absolutely massive), and even his rescue from-

“An underground fighting ring.” Shoko told you in a measured tone, and you’d picked up on the fact that she didn’t want to disturb the hybrid inside those curtains. “It’s not often that we’re able to rescue hybrids from fighting rings- alive, that is. Though they remain our toughest problem.”

Your mouth felt parched, “I…I see.”

“This hybrid was lucky—he was said to be their top fighter. But no one lasts long in an underground fighting ring.” She looked at you solemnly, “No one. And before we proceed, I need you to understand what you’re getting yourself into. I know how much you love helping hybrids - I’ve seen you ‘round here almost every week - but I need you to understand that Choso might not be the easiest companion.”

You nodded seriously.

“It’ll take him some time- and on some occasions he might even lash out.” Shoko gestured to the other beds - namely the distance between them. “We’ve had to separate him from the other hybrids as well.”

You looked from them and back, “But surely he’s not dangerous-”

“No.” She shook her head, “He’s hurt. He’s powerful. But most of all, he’s highly intelligent.” Her ears twitch, and there’s a small quirk at the edge of her painted lips, as though a smile—“All he needs is some love and care, and someone kind enough to wait for him…which is exactly why I chose you.”

And how could you not help Choso Kamo after that?

So she’d peeled back the curtains and oh…and inside had been perhaps one of the largest hybrids you’ve ever seen. One of the most magnificent. 

Even for a purebred, Choso’s drooping ears were covered in the darkest, glossiest coating of chestnut brown. They’d perked up even before you’d entered - no doubt hearing every single nervous breath you were trying to regulate - and they stayed on alert even as he caught sight of you. His sharp canines made an appearance. His powerful tail whipped. 

And yet, even with his features twisted into something unwelcoming, you found the wind knocked out of you at the utter beauty of his features.

They were prominent and pretty. As though carved by the most delicate of hands: those slightly downturned eyes of his, the pertness of his mouth, those high cheekbones. 

There was a glint of something unforgiving in the depths of his chocolate irises, however, as though weathered through the years. Something honed. 

Sitting up on his bed, his gaze narrowed as you entered his space- and a slightly feral growl had left Choso’s lips. His toned body was naked beneath the clinical blankets, and he gripped them as if he was ready to fling them off and attack-

You slowly took a step backwards - something other than fear. You understood how it felt to want to be alone for some time.

And sitting on the empty bed beside him, you waited in silence as he realized you weren’t here to attack—and leaned back into his crisp mattress. Though he still looked slightly wary of you, you didn’t hesitate before introducing yourself and launching into a conversation - rather one-sided at the time, but a conversation nonetheless. 

Shoko had smiled and left the two of you alone for now. Meanwhile you spoke of your day, your job, the weather outside and- did he like the food here? What were his favorite foods? 

Despite the fact that Choso didn’t answer a single one of your gentle questions, you weren’t deterred. And it wasn’t long before you’d looked up at the clock on the end of the hallway—and realized that it was nearly past visiting hours. Choso himself had seemingly come to the same conclusion, as he watched your eyes drift back to him.

And you’d only had one more question left for him.

“Do you want to come with me?”

And he’d given you a single, short answer—in a deep baritone that sounded as though it hadn’t been used in years. “Yes.”

From then on it’d been a short few hours of paperwork - much shorter than your initial registration - to get Choso officially situated in your apartments. In a week’s time he was discharged from JSH and gathering his sparse belongings (nothing but a broken collar) to move in with you in your Tokyo nook.

Your first outing together had been to buy him all sorts of new clothes and necessities and a collar - something that you didn’t think Choso would like. But Shoko had recommended you get one, just in case.

And so there had been a pretty, pink-colored collar with your name on it—fitted to Choso’s size—jostling around at the bottom of your shopping bags as you dragged the Great Dane hybrid from store to specialized hybrid store. 

The first day had been a little awkward…you introduced Choso to the guest’s bedroom that was now all his - and he’d locked himself in there for about two days. Only coming out once he’d completely and fully immersed himself inside, once he’d finally gotten used to the sense of a place—a place that was his own. 

Following had been a blurred few weeks of attempting to get used to one another in this limited space. Choso himself wasn’t all that bad of a roommate, to be honest - he’d spoken to you in bits and pieces whenever he felt like it, gathering up after himself, and letting you know whenever he liked your cooking. And you scoured for these interactions like a man in search of an oasis in the desert, after prolonged summer after summer, after prolonged heatwave after heatwave.

You weren’t even sure why you were drawn to him so much- sure, Choso Kamo was one attractive being. Especially when he was walking around the apartment after a shower, in nothing but a slightly-dampened towel…

But more than that—he was just so damn sweet.

You came to understand that the more you found out about him. 

It started off small: the charred attempt at preparing breakfast for you in the second week he was here, the shy way he’d tug at your collar - despite being such an intimidating size - whenever he encountered another dog hybrid in public. He followed you around everywhere—everywhere. He waited right outside the door for you whenever you went to work.

And come to find that…Choso wasn’t the strong, seethingly silent type you’d initially assumed at all. He was smart. He was funny. He was such a sweetheart.

Soon enough, once he’d opened up to you in the coming months, you’d come to find that Choso actually loved sappy romance movies (and he cried at the end every time), Choso loved making little treats for you whenever you were down, Choso loved cuddlin’ up to after a long day at work. Perhaps it was unconditionally true what they say about Great Danes being ‘gentle giants’ - because Choso Kamo was the gentlest giant of them all. 

And after five months, the two of you were what you could honestly consider good rommates—good friends, actually. Though the housing situation was meant to be temporary until the hybrid was able to get a place of their own - and/ or wanted to - you could honestly see yourself living with Choso for the rest of time. 

Who would have thought?

Though the collar still sat collecting on one of your cabinets. You hadn’t brought it up, and Choso - despite eying it from time to time - hadn’t asked, either. 

Everything had been perfect—that is, until about a few weeks ago when your clothes had started disappearing.

It started off with a jacket here, a bracelet there, and then something you couldn’t ignore - an ugly Christmas sweater from the last holidays (that you honestly weren’t upset to see go). And you could’ve let it slide had it been limited to these souvenirs that you wouldn’t mind never having to think of ever again. 

But your underwear? 

Not only was it your underwear, but it was about half your entire drawer? Perhaps even more so? All those lacy black numbers n’ those matching sets, all those expensive lingerie you’d treated yourself to and even a few of those grandma panties with holes in them- you couldn’t help but wonder just what your hybrid needed these for…

Nesting wasn’t as common for dog hybrids, right? Besides, Choso had a perfectly comfortable bed that you knew he loved and adored. 

To be honest, there was one person in the forums who’d suggested that perhaps those aforementioned hybrids were veering into ruts and heats- though, they’d gotten downvoted to hell.

And though you’d considered the possibility…that certainly wasn’t the case this time, right?

You’d read up on the matter prior to meeting Choso, and you knew that that particular period occurred every two to three months for a hybrid. But in the five months since getting to know him, and since worming your way into his good graces, Choso had never shown any indication of a rut. 

Not even the slightest glimpse of it.

And that was certainly alright - some hybrids simply didn’t have certain proclivities, or perhaps their pheromones didn’t overtake them as such. But your question remained: if Choso hadn’t started his rut then, why would it start now? There must be another explanation, surely. 

And so you’re still mulling over the possibilities as you’re trudging your way to him- knock-knock-knocking on the door to his bedroom. Choso opens the door instantly - as he always did when it came to you - and you’re somewhat taken aback at the sudden…shirtlessness that you’re bestowed with.

Clearly fresh out of the shower.

With his long hair untied, wet tips reaching his broad shoulders- with glistening droplets of water slipping down his hairline and down the middle of his chest. With a tattooed No. 1 on the sculptured ridges of his right v-line. With his toned chest slightly panting—at the sight of you.

Choso’s flushed lips part-

“Cho…” At the sound of your voice uttering his cute nickname, Choso’s long tail immediately starts wagging. And you’re finding it hard to keep the sternness in  your voice, “I didn’t disturb you, did I? I just wanted to ask whether you wouldn’t happen to know where my erm- underwear disappeared, would you?”

And at that- his eyes go slightly wide. “U-underwear?”

And you’d almost have been fooled by the innocent blush that spread across his cheeks…if it wasn’t so damning, that is. “Yes. Underwear, Cho. Where is it?”

“And you’re asking me—?” He pleads.

“My panties didn’t just grow legs and walk, Choso.” You cross your arms with a sigh, “They’re not magical.”

“…I think you’re magical.”

Somewhat catching you off-guard—“You can’t just-” And you feel something flip at the pit of your stomach, “Don’t think you’re going to wiggle your way out of this, okay? I need my underwear back before tomorrow- unless you want me to go to work pantyless-”

His canines slip out with a growl, muscles rippling as he shivers. “Never.”

“Then you better- return them.” You’re wagging your finger strictly at him, to which he lets a sheepish smile escape.

He places a hand on the top of the doorway - a gesture of nervousness, surely. “Y-yes, ma’am.” That little nickname you’d told him time and time again not to use—why so formal? But you can’t help but notice the bulge of his swole muscles, still dappled in the dampness of the shower. 

And to hide the flip in your stomach - again - you’re sighing and looking away from the vision of Choso before you. 

You could still hear the fervent wagging of his tail.

“Wanna go out for a wal-”

“Yes.”

.

.

.

“Okay- ready, Cho?” Slipping your shoes on, you turn towards the hybrid that stood at the edge of the threshold.

Choso was never the type to be leashed whenever the two of you went on walks - you suppose that came with his seeming distaste for the collar. He’d meander along beside you, and though you’d been nervous about losing him the first few times, Choso had proved himself to be loyal and steadfast by your side. Never wandering off too far, even when he was exploring in the hybrid park.

And right now—he was shuffling shyly. “Y-yes…”

You frown, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing-” He replies hastily, putting on his own shoes and getting ready to follow you out the door. But even so…his eyes drift beyond the threshold. “It’s just…”

“Hey…” You’re lowering your voice- and the tension bleeds out of his shoulders as you reach out and gently hold onto his arm. “You can tell me anything, y’know?”

And that’s what makes him finally muster up the courage- “I want to put on the collar, ma’am.”

“Oh.”

Oh.

And who were you to say no to that?

And it feels as if you’re walking on air as you go up to the cabinet and pull those glass doors open - taking out that pretty, pink collar you’d bought specifically for him. Slightly dust-bitten. Yet its heart-shaped pendant glimmers in the sunlight, your name etched onto there—Choso dons that name proudly as you’re fastening it onto his pale neck.

“Tell me if it’s too tight, alright?” Its metal buckle hisses coldly against his nearly-feverish skin: was he heating up? 

That prominent Adam’s apple of his bobs- “Mhm…”

Before long, the two of you find yourselves walking down the summery pavement; it was a beautiful day and the balmy breeze kisses your cheeks. Clouds frothing. Birds twittering. You’re humming at the feeling of warm sunlight on your skin, contrasted by the unfamiliar coldness of that looped handle of the leash in your hands.

The thin, chain-linked length sways just a little—leading up, up, up to the collar wrapped around Choso’s throat. It lets off a metallic sound that melds with the bustling noises drifting from your local hybrid park - you hadn’t had Choso for long before you found out about this place.

And ever since about your second or so week with him, you’d been going there almost daily. With Choso being so naturally shy, it was a good place for him to make friends and interact with someone that wasn’t just you—and bit by bit, you’d gotten the privilege of seeing him open up. Hell, he even had a few regular friends there. And by now, he looked forward to the park just as much as you did- except…today, Choso was pulling back a bit.

Not as though he wanted to leave, but as though he always wanted to be half a step behind. No matter how much you slowed down your own pace for him.

“C’mon, Cho.” You’re gently pulling on the grip of his leash, and yet it doesn’t give away anything. “We’re a little late, your friends will be leaving soon.”

He doesn’t answer.

“Choso?” Your fist tightens around the leash.

He doesn’t budge a single inch—in fact, he seems to slow down even further.

“Choso, come on-”

And then he’s letting out the softest, sweetest sound that makes you stop directly in your tracks- “N-ngh—” Something so unexpected. That you can only turn around and stare at him.

Choso fiddles with the zipper on his jacket, eyes downturned- and yet, you’d be able to make out that cute blush of his anywhere.

You attempt to take a peek at his expression, “Something wrong? D’you wanna go home, Cho?”

He shakes his head. “N-no…” And the fidgeting with that metallic nub grows even faster, Choso’s feet shuffling on the smooth, grey sidewalk. “It’s just…keep going at your own pace, ma’am.”

“My own pace? But isn’t that a little too fast for you today?” You probe.

And he nods, “Yes…” Barely even a whisper, “Keep doing that- k-keep pulling on my leash.”

Electricity zaps down your spine at his tone- oh, his tone. Currents of it leaving your mind a little fuzzy, and curdling somewhere between…

Choso raises his nose up into the air to sniff— with his honed senses, and you couldn’t start tugging on his leash fast enough. “A-alright then.” You weren’t sure to exactly what degree his senses were honed, but you didn’t doubt he could smell even the wetness of your cunt - it’s exactly why you’d tampered down proddin’ away at yourself with your vibrator after he’d moved in. 

And then he stalls so you pull once more- 

“Fuck-”

And you look towards him instantly, “Shit- I’m sorry. Did I pull too hard, Cho?”

“No-” He shakes his head immediately, “No, not at all.”

The tighter it was, the better.

The air feels more humid than it had once been—so much thicker. It’s enough that you feel like you can finally breathe only once you catch sight of the hybrid park; those swooping slides and those green, open spaces. Slides and tunnels. Stores and pathways.

You’re reaching up to unclip his leash, and Choso lets out a sheepish smile as he stops you. “I-I want to keep the collar on, is that okay?”

You’re stunned. “That’s perfectly alright, Cho.” And so you watch his tall figure stalk towards his usual group of companions, your name sparkling on the pendant between his collarbones. Perhaps you should ask him about this sudden change, but…you decide not to push it for now - perhaps it was still the weather that still had him all out of sorts. 

Deciding that you’d join him in playing just a little later - at least when your knees weren’t feeling as weak as they do right now - you sit down on one of the benches overlooking the park. It makes you smile to see Choso laugh and talk with his hybrid friends—such a stark difference from how he’d been when you first met him.

You were proud of him.

“Hey, Choso’s wearing a collar today?” A sudden voice makes you look up—and who else would it be but the ever-charming Kusakabe? You’d met the older man on your first visit to the hybrid park - and you were sure you’d been such a sight: awkward and standing by the edge of the park, a towering unleashed hybrid at your side, both of you unsure what to do. 

He’d been the one to reach out to you first- asking you whether you wanted to join him and his smaller, more welcoming canine hybrid. That had been the first time that you’d seen Choso interact with another hybrid without bearing his fangs. 

As a much more experienced hybrid owner than you, you admit that he’d helped you smoothen your journey as a new companion—vastly. All the best spots to eat here. All the hybrids to be steered clear of due to their aggressiveness. So it was practically routine to run into the dark-haired man during your days at the park, and so you flash him an easy smile. “He is, isn’t he? New development.”

“Pink. Looks good on him.” Kusakabe nods approvingly, arms crossed. “Everyday he surprises me.”

“Right?” And with a chuckle, you’re holding up the slender chainlink leash. “Though if he chooses to continue then I might just have to get something stronger…”

“Oh, I know just the place-” And Kusakabe sits down right next to you on the bench - thigh against thigh, arm against arm. You’re unable to say anything about anyone’s personal space before he’s pulling his phone out and gesturing for you to lean in—“There’s this shop downtown in Shinjuku I go to- the best discounts. It’s right beside the convenience store and the-”

And as soon as you blink, Kusakabe is ripped from his seat next to you.

And before you crouches Choso.

Though not as you know him. Not at all.

Choso bears his piercing canines and lets out a rumbling growl; muscles of his back shifting, body panting, claws protruding—and though you couldn’t see his face, you knew it was contorted into something of utter murder. And you weren’t sure whether this was just your imagination due to the tension of the incident…but did he seem somewhat…bigger? Veins popping. Back hulking. There was almost something…animalistic about him that you couldn’t quite put your finger on- other than the fact that he was scarin’ off the others around you like a guard dog. He lets out another rumble of gnarled words and it’s enough to make every hair on your body raise.

“Stay away.” It’s about all you can make out.

You stand immediately, heart pounding. “Ch-Cho?” You reach towards him.

“Stay away.” 

Was that really him?

He repeats.

And then he repeats again.

And he repeats and he repeats- as if crazed. Kusakabe pales and wastes no time creating some much-needed distance between himself and the hybrid.

He bumps into his own cowering hybrid.

“Choso-”

“Stay away from my mat-” 

“Choso- enough.” And you finally manage to pull him back - he doesn’t even seem to register you beside him for a brief few seconds. Not until you force him to just fucking look at you—

And then - only then - do his claws retract, and the sharpness in his eyes fades just a little bit—turning into their usual chocolate-caramel brown once he turns them towards you. You look into his dilated peripherals and wonder whether he was really the same hybrid as just a few seconds before. 

Choso Kamo could easily overpower you, but he’s pulled by your arms easily. 

As you look around, you’re realizing that almost everyone in this vicinity of the park was staring at you. The hybrids nearby had their ears lowered. The owners were tugging on leashes of those same hybrids that refused to move- seconds away from danger and they were too afraid to move. Kusakabe himself was blindly reaching for his own companion. Hell, even the birds seemed to have stopped fluttering about—as though summer itself had been paused for this sudden feral coldness of your sweet Choso. You can’t help but let a shiver run through you as you imagine just what might have happened if you weren’t there to stop him. 

Choso would have torn that man to shreds. 

Without thinking twice, you loop a finger underneath his collar and pull him away- not even bothering with the leash anymore. Fuck…his skin was just feverish. “C’mon.” 

And for the first few tugs, Choso doesn’t respond—doesn’t dare to tear his eyes away from the trembling Kusakabe. But then you’re saying his name once more, “Choso.” He jolts as though hit with a thousand volts of electricity- and you’re quickly pulling him out of the park. Not even a second glance at the mess you’ve left behind, “We’re going home.”

He quietly responds from beside you, “Yes ma’am.” In a voice so heated. 

Collar tight on his neck.

Tight. Tight all throughout your speedy walk back home—even afterwards. And once you’re attempting to reach up and free him of that restraint- Choso flinches away from your hands faster than light. 

Starin’ straight at you with his dazed, darkened brown eyes he holds the buckled lock of the collar and crushes it with his bare hands.

Crushes it so that it cannot be removed.

.

.

.

“I don’t know, Shoko….” Nervously gnawin’ on your lower lip, you pace the hallway outside Choso’s room. Her response comes out as languid and reassuring as ever- but you can’t help but cast a concerned look at the closed door. Locked. “He’s just never acted like this—”

“Aggressive?” Comes her question, “Why, it might just be because of the increasing temperatures that hybrids-”

“No, not just being aggressive.” You struggle to articulate, “It’s just he’s being so…”

Because it hadn’t been just the collar incident after you’d gotten home from the park. Almost immediately afterwards, Choso had rounded the room a few times- alert. Alarmed. For a second there, you almost thought he’d caught onto a whiff of something else entirely—before he’d grabbed one of the throw pillows on your couch and rubbed his swollen scent glands down its puffed surface. 

Scenting.

Scenting was the act of coating an object, hybrid, or person in the pheromones of a hybrid; it’s said that they often feel more comfortable in a space if it reminds them of their own scent.

But to this extent?

You’d gotten used to Choso scenting the apartment during the first week of your cohabitating, but right now it was as if he was attempting to erase every single shred of evidence that anyone else had ever been inside this apartment. 

No one but him. No one but you.

That laptop charger that your coworker had touched last week? He’s gliding the smooth surface down the side of his throat, and replacing that scent instantly. That cushion your friends had sat on the last time they visited? That hair tie you’d washed with a different shampoo than your usual? Even the damn jacket that Kusakabe had brushed up against on the park-

That one, in particular, Choso was ripping away the scent most fervently. 

Until the apartment was saturated with his soft, sweetened vanilla scent. 

It smelled like a bakery here. 

Concerned, you’d attempted to then coax Choso into playtime- he refused. The first time he’d ever refused to spend quality time with you—not even when you’d pulled out his favorite axolotl toy. Thereafter he’d been draped across your living room couch for hours on end, panting, sickly; the only times he’d moved was to disappear into the bathroom every fifteen minutes. And each time he came out more and more feverish than before - flushed down to his chest, trembling just a little. Hands pressed between his thighs. What did that…

When you’d finally insisted that perhaps the two of you go see a doctor, he’d disappeared into his bedroom and refused to come out.

Not even when you’d knocked.

Not even when you’d called for dinner.

And you were two steps away from begging- but instead you’re regurgitating your woes to the ever-trustworthy Dr. Ieri Shoko. 

She listens to your day silently.

“Now, I don’t want you to worry…” Of course, the only thing she was doing by being so evasive was making you worry. “-and this is just a suggestion, of course-”

“Anything.” You’re pleading, “Just- anything that’ll make him feel better.”

She hums, and even through the phone it sounds knowing. “Have you ever considered that…” Somewhere in the distance, your hallway clock tick-tick-ticks away—and it feels as though your stomach flips just in time with its clanging announcement of the hour. “-perhaps Choso might be in rut?”

Breathless, “What?”

You hear the flipping of pages - presumably notes - from her side of the call. “It seems that in our care, Choso Kamo was yet to experience a rut. And from what little information we were able to gather from his previous…accomodation, the same can be said for there.”

“I thought Choso couldn’t get ruts?” It’s surprising that your voice manages to be so steady. 

“Perhaps so.” Shoko answers, “But that is merely a medical assumption.”

Your brows furrow, “W-what are you saying?”

And she sounds as sage as ever, “What I’m saying is that there is no evidence to suggest that Choso can experience a rut-” You’re just about to open your mouth in agreement. “-however, there is no experience to suggest the contrary, either.” More flipping pages—“For all we know, the lack of a rut period for this hybrid could be a result of the high-pressure environment that he’d been placed in since his mature years. We’ve certainly seen as much- though, I never did think that this would be such a case.”

And you just about can’t believe what you’re hearing—“Wait- so you’re saying that Choso can experience a rut…all because he’s finally feeling comfortable?”

“Safe, is the more likely option.” She corrects, “Though comfortable isn’t incorrect, either. As well as open, happy, attracted-”

You reel- “Attracted? To who—?”

There’s a slight pause.

“I might be no optometrist-” She deadpans, “-but rest assured that I’m not blind.”

A sudden rush of something in your veins—“A-and what can I do to help him through this…rut?”

“At this stage? Find him a mate.” Shoko answers, and there’s shuffling from the other end of the line. “Or be his mate.”

You’re speechless.

“Good luck!”

A tone rings. The call is over.

And you’re left alone in your Tokyo apartment- alone with the massive puppyboy that was in the throes of his rut. 

The door feels taller - more intimidating - than you remember it being when it’d been nothing but an empty guest’s room. But now it had meaning to it…it had someone inside that you cared about. Cared about to an extent that perhaps you never thought you would—fuck. Before you know it, you’d been standing motionless outside Choso’s doorway for a few minutes.

And you’re sure he can smell your heady wetness from inside.

And once you’re jolting back to your senses, you realize that your legs had lugged you as clooooose to it as you can go - had already put a hand on the doorknob that you don’t remember putting there. 

You twist it open.

And the wave of pheromones that hits you is enough to bring you to your knees. 

The flurry of vanilla sweetness, of the sunshine of early morning, of the warmth that comes from days spent at the beach—it all envelopes you like a whirlwind set to devour you whole. First it’s taking presence in your lungs, then your brains, then your cunt. Quite literally- you grasp onto the wooden beam of the doorway in an attempt not to embarrass yourself.

But you don’t think that Choso was in the presence of mind to care.

You don’t think he even notices you enter at first.

He’s buck-naked on top of his bed. All twisted up in slightly-dampened sheets, he looked like a Renaissance painting; with his meaty thighs spread wiiiiiiide and his angry red cock throbbing between his legs, with his entire body covered in a thin sheen of perspiration, with his tail not even wagging anymore, with his pinkish mouth parted and letting out the prettiest whine after whine as he fucks up into his fist.

Up and up.

Again and again.

He still has his collar on him.

Every muscle in his nearly-Herculean body twitching as he does so. Abs tensing. Biceps bulging—

Dribbles of sap explode from his tip like a damn fountain- leaving his hand glistening in layers of sticky glue-like substance. Shaft pulsing in the air. Heavy balls twitching once-twice- If it isn’t just the filthiest sight you’ve ever seen…he cums. 

With the most pornographic cry of your name falling from his lips. 

And from the puddle right below those ruttin’ hips of his, you wonder just how many times he’s cum to the thought of you before.

Choso gliiiiides his palm down his aching shaft to drag out his high. Again and again.

Pump after pump.

And it’s only once those sticky white droplets of seed have petered out that he’s finally attempting to crack his eyes open. Long lines of tears glimmer down his cheeks, and you think he just looks so pretty whimperin’ out your name as the last few ropes of his cum empty out of his cock. Letting his sweaty head slump back against the pillows, Choso’s chest heaves as he attempts to catch his breath before—

Oh- and how is he supposed to catch his breath when you’re standing there - so beautiful and fuckable - in front of him? Jaw dropped. 

Unbeknownst to himself, Choso’s tail starts wagging.

Unbeknownst to you, your thighs are pressing together. 

And he lifts his sensitive nose in the air once more taking—one sniff, two sniff. Like cherries. It’s all he needs to register in that hazed brain of his that you’re completely and utterly soaked through those panties you weren’t wearing. 

He wasn’t exactly doing anything lewd, but you think you’ve never felt more exposed.

Pulling down the hemline of your short, short skirt, you gasp- “Ch-Choso.”

And he flinches.

As if you’re struck him down to his very core—there’s something carnal there that shifts within Choso’s eyes and obscures anything of the sweet hybrid that you knew. His body trembles as he heaves to a stand beside the bed - and it’s just then that you’re realizing that in his rut, Choso was much bigger than you normally knew him to be. He was taller. Bulkier.

Just as he had been at the park, it’s like a more base part of him had taken over. Invaded. 

Those claws of his drag down the soft covers of the bed and tear it to shreds without even trying- and you start to wonder what that might just mean for you…

He’s oozing power you knew he had- you knew he had, but never knew he’d think to harness as he crosses the bedroom in nothing but three strides. 

And he kneels before you in a shorter amount of time.

Kneels. 

Like it’s where he was always meant to be, beneath you like this, those capped knees of his strike the carpet with two thuds! Hard enough that it should hurt a normal human, though not even the faintest glint of pain registers in Choso’s eyes - so dilated now that they were almost completely engulfed in blackness. 

His milky thighs squeeze around your calves. Which inadvertently means you can feel his cock grow even harder than before…

From your feet, he’s peering up at you with an expression akin to worship—clammy fingers grasping desperately at your skirt. They’re sliding just beneath - where his feverishly hot skin sizzles against your own - and a sudden pang of neediness shoots through your every blood vessel. 

The air in the room suddenly feels hotter. Sweeter.

And you’ve always wanted Choso Kamo, but those pheromones he’s jetting out makes you feel almost dizzily greedy to feel him-

“Ma’am…” Choso’s voice quivers out—husky. But it wasn’t in the way that made him sound demanding- no, it was veering on the edge of an unsteady pleading. His unfairly handsome face cocks ever-so-slightly to the side, and he’s looking up at you through his loooong dark lashes. Puppydog eyes. “-permission to eat you out?”

You’re nodding so rapidly that your head bumps against the wall you’re pressed up against- hips bucking towards him, and he only yearns even closer with a whimper. “Yes—” You’re uttering out, “Yes, pl-”

But you didn’t think that Choso Kamo would ever make you beg for him, did you?

Hell, he should be the one begging—just to taste you. Just to sniff your pretty pussy. Just to tip his head slightly backwards and let those ropes of clingy sap leak down his tongue aaaaaaall the way down to his throat. His pheromones leave him in gusts, rendering the hybrid more n’ more ruined every time you’re blinking down at him. “Permission to swallow, ma’am?”

“You may.”

You witness the exact moment that Choso Kamo tastes you on his tongue for the first time.

Because his powerful, hybrid tail starts to wag harder than you’ve ever seen it. Because he groans. Because a primal noise escapes him that sounds like the most erotic music to yours eardrums—“Fuck.” Choso’s eyes go slightly wide. “Fuh-fuck…”

With the wettest, most lecherous plap! that mouth of his drops even further ajar. To plaster more of you across his maw. 

You’re the sweetest things he’s ever had the pleasure of smelling- with or without pheromones. 

His Adam’s apple bobs with the wads of your pussy’s needy juices slippin’ straight into his gullet. Pressing himself so close to you that he’s physically unable to breathe through his nose- Choso wastes no time before clawin’ onto both sides of your hips and plastering your sticky, syrupy pussy all over his mouth. 

Just wide open.

Hot, open-mouthed kisses. 

“Sh-shiiiiit—” Gasping, your hands snake down to grab onto Choso’s sweaty locks. They were practically pitch-black with perspiration by this point, making it slippery for your hands to tighten around and place the slightest pressure when tuuuuuugging-

Choso fights with everything left in him to not dig his claws into your pretty thighs and drape your thoroughly wet pussy across his mouth. He mewls, “N-no.” His kisses grow more fervent. “No, baby…”

Eyes just a bit teary from the sudden stimulation, you’re wondering just what it is that poor Choso’s huffing n’ puffing about. And that’s the instant you’re witnessing the dog hybrid lean up onto his haunches and jerk his toned hips against your legs. That reddened, throbbing erection of his crushing against your calves. 

It’s the only bit of friction he can get- and the only bit of friction that he needs to spurt his webbed seed all down your skin. Splatterin’ some against the wall and even down himself—he’s making such an utter mess as he cums just from eating you out.

That, too, with merely a few sultry licks.

Whimpering. 

Choso’s head throws back with an echoing sound, lips wobbly oh-so-cutely as he drenches your heated flesh with his gooey sap. It forms a layer of warmth that you don’t get too feel for too long-

Because the man himself is draggin’ his roughened fingertips down the dredges of it and stuffing every ounce he can gather between your legs. Straight into the sinking divot where your hole was, Choso makes sure to retract his fatal claws as he slides his lacquering layers down your pussylips. Painting gloss after gloss of creamy white.

Pheromones were just soaking into the air, making it so heavy.

And that ruddied tip of his tongue slips out and starts lavishin’ away at your messy slit. Just so fucking messy.

Despite his tail wagging away at the lewd sight, he can’t keep the regret out of his tone. “I c-can’t believe I’ve cum.” He utters out a breathy pant into your cunt. “I can’t believe it—”

“Awww- s’okay, Cho.” You swear you see his cock twitch at just the slightest mention of that nickname falling from your gorgeous lips. “It’s probably your first time, huh?”

“I-it is.” Your poor puppydog nods.

“Then it’s alright-”

“But I wanna be good for you, mistress.” And even more sinful than that title was the way he was looking up at you with the most agonized tearful eyes—“I-it’s all my body’s telling me to do…” As Choso’s huffin’ away, the edge of his lower lip jutted out into the cutest pout. His brown brows furrow as he focuses on chastely pecking your hole—and you’re hit with the understanding that he wasn’t entirely sure what to do. By now he’s rutting against your calves like a dog in heat - and it would be incorrect to say he wasn’t. “I wanna please you.”

“Is that soooo?” You’re crooning out- and he shivers. Reaching the edge of your foot out, you slide up the lined muscles of his left leg - ending up pressed between his thick thighs.

You step on Choso’s rock-hard erection with your foot and he all but cries-

Humming to yourself, “Then act like it.”

He gasps, “Wh-what?” And though he was in disbelief - his ears waste no time pricking up.

Your heel crushes his hot, dribblin’ erection- “Awwww, didn’t hear me, baby?” Harder. As he bucks his hips and lets out a sudden yelp, you’re pulling his handsome face up to yours—“Why’re you giving me kitty licks if you’re a dog hybrid, huh? Why don’t you eat me out…”

Hooking your non-dominant leg over his shoulder.

“-like a good boy then?”

And then you’re swervin’ his head just sliiiightly to the side—and helping him open up the puffy slit of your pussy and ease his tongue inside.

And all it takes is one push - just one push - of Choso’s flattened, ridged tastebuds- for you to clench around him. The most goopiest feeling.

Enough to make a hybrid addicted. 

“Oh…” He barely has enough space to breathe let alone speak- any and every breath he has left in his lungs is spent parched over your cunt. Choso slips his fat tongue past your first ring of muscle—and you best believe that his extra-specialized hybrid tongue was tasting every droplet of your slick up close and personal. Savoring you - his bleary eyes roll to the back of his head. He’s feeling the velvety squeeze of your walls as he dives in and out, in and out, in and out. 

In and oooooout- and thrusting ravenously all the way back in again. 

“Shiiiiit-”

His eyes widen at the effect that he - he - seems to be having on you. “D-does this feel good-”

“Shut up n’ eat, baby.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He was just so obedient.

Not having much experience but swabbin’ the friction of his tongue wherever he could- as fast as he could. Tail wagging as fast as he could. The crowned edge of his tastebuds dig against every orifice inside you, as fast as he could.

And you’re swearing that the way he’s fucking you with is tongue feels almost…animalistic in nature.

Choso’s grip fastened tight upon either side of your squirming hips- and the tips of his fingers twitch as though he was having trouble keeping his claws back. Rugged grunts leave him with every slip n’ slide. Chin plastering against the bottom of your pussy—his handsome features scrape-scrape-scraaaape every inch of you from the end of your cunt and all the way up to the tip. Where your clit was throbbing and needy for him.

He’s whining at the feeling of that pulsation against his face, looking down innocently at your sensitive nub. “D-do I touch you ther-”

“Fuck, yes- you touch me there.” 

“Thank you, ma’am.”

Fuck. 

You’re directing your inexperienced hybrid. And perhaps it was the pheromones that were making your body looser than ever-

But you’re wielding that ruthless restraint you have on him and bucking straight against Choso’s open mouth. As his tongue slips into your hole at a constant pace, you’re making sure that that handsomely big nose of his isn’t going to waste either - just grinding down on the mostly-straight line of it. Your favorite part was that lil’ bump that he had around the middle, it’s where your clit felt its primal pangs the most satiated. 

As Choso eagerly pushes his face between your tremblin’ legs and laps and laps his thick tongue away. Textured tastebuds. Sizzling against where you were most sensitive.

And you might not be a hybrid with those keen sensibilities to know what every single pheromone puff meant- but what you’re feeling right now in his sweetened fragrance was nothing more than utterly content. Pure gluttony.

He was droolin’ down both sides of his mouth and only push-push-puuuushing his face even deeper. “Please-” And his swollen mouth lolls stupidly open- probing his tongue inside to the maximum, to the very hilt of his wet muscle, and even then he grinds his face deeper like he wanted even more. “P-permission to have even…ngh, more, mistress?”

“More?” Your eyes damn-near bulge out of your skull- Choso was already wolfing you down like a man starved. Fucking you with his tongue and gyratin’ his nose across your clit. 

Thirsty for every pearly droplet of slick you’re spraying out, his brows press upwards and he’s fixing you with the most convincing puppydog eyes you’ve ever seen. Hell, even his scruffy ears start to droop- “Please, mistress?”

Muttering underneath your breath, “I swear if you were any other…”

And how could you ever deny him that?

Oh, your hybrid was just so spoiled- but that was a problem for later. Right now, all you can think of doing is reaching down and hooking a finger in that pink collar of his—he keens as you’re using that to puuuuull him even further upwards, nose-deep between your legs, and sputters. 

Rolling your hips faster and faster - you were just so glad that you had the upperhand with his collar now. Because every time that Choso even pulled away to gasp out his unsteady breaths- you’re hauling him straight back.

“What’s the matter, baby?” You’re cooing down at him, letting his flushed face crush against your pussylips. Leavin’ such a lecherous smear of your pussy’s slick across his features, “Didn’t you say that you wanted more?”

“I did- I do.” He’s whining, hips starting to rut once more. Just so teary and guttural with all the stimulation - your pussy was just ruining him, and it really didn’t help that those rut pheromones left him in an even more dire state. Choso sloshes your slick ‘round with his tongue and sobs at the searing restraint you had on his collar, “Wanted more- ngh, wanted to taste your pussy more, ma’am.”

“Then—?” Just so mean now. You tug on his collar again and make him shiver as he’s whimpering, tearing up, bucking like an animal—so overstimulated on being used. “What else does my good boy want, huh?”

“I-I’m your good boy?” Those tear-filled eyes of his are just so pretty, and they’re blinking a few times before Choso even realizes that you’ve asked a question. He hastens to answer before your tugging grows even more insistent - though he really doesn’t mind the pain…“I just wanted permission to…”

“Yeeees?”

“J-just to…”

And you’re peering down at the poor hybrid: his powerful tail is still now, and his pheromones were slowly becoming more and more maddened. You’re seeing the way his long fingers tremble where he’s holding you—edging juuuuust the slightest bit closer to your core…

“Permission to finger me-” You smile down something sinful at him, “-granted.”

He gapes, “Th-thank you, ma’am.”

“It’s a hybrid-eat-pussy world, right?”

And those slender tops of his fingers have no trouble just sliiiiiding a few inches inside- filling you up enough that his digits fill up every single orifice. Every single nook and cranny. He’s thrashin’ around inside, letting the curved tops of his fingers prod and poke away—

“Can smell you getting e-even wetter when I reach for…ngh- here.” He’s muttering out in a slightly breathy tone- slightly crazed. And the sweeter your treacly cunt jets out pheromones, the closer he’s veering towards that one spot-

Choso babbles, “Can smell you the sweetest…around here.” Through his shaggy bangs, you see those brows of his furrow- “Can smell your pussy wantin’ me to go…”

And then he’s hitting it.

“-here, ma’am.” 

Unlike the sudden surges of pleasure that were almost knocking you to the floor, Choso was just looking up at you so innocently as he pumps his lengthy digits towards the very back of your pussy. Striking splat! where your g-spot throbbed—before he’s pushing inside and inside to scrape damn near your cervix.

Fingers so long that you think he could reach that spongy layer if you really wanted him to-

“D-deeper, Cho…” Your mouth waters at the delicious zaps of pleasure running through your veins. Your head throws back as they only seem to increase with every passing second, and you whine. “M’so close—deeper.”

“Close?” He breathes out, as if in disbelief.

And you best believe that Choso was running his poor fingers ragged doing exactly what you’re asking - he’s scrubbin’ up every ounce of space down your walls, he’s leaving your g-spot feeling raw at the constant whacks, he’s sure the skin of his knuckles was reddening at the impacts but—but he doesn’t even fucking think to slow down as Choso fucks n’ fucks your pussy stupid.

He could feel himself going stupid, mouth latched ‘round your pulsating clit and moaning. “Please cum.” Babbling, “P-please cum…need to make my mistress feel good-”

“Shit, and I really do feel good-”

“Need to be a good boy and give her pleasure-”

“Already doing so much, baby-”

“Need to make her cum—” Tears spilling down the sides of his handsome face, he looks up at you with pouted lips. Quivering, “Permission to make you c-cum, mistress?”

You tug on his collar - this time, high enough that you can bend down and press a chaste peck on his forehead. “Permission granted, Cho.”

And it’s just then that Choso’s reeling his fingers properly back - all the way till those rotund ends - and pushing straight into the deepest depths of your pussy. Directly into spots you perhaps weren’t even sure you had—perhaps your cervix. It certainly felt that way. 

Deep.

And suddenly you’re shattering all over the hybrid’s fingers n’ mouth - something that Choso realizes before even you yourself do. His nostrils flare at the sudden peak in your stewed cherry pheromones—like the trumpets denoting the opening of those pearly gates.

Suddenly your legs tremble open and you’re gushing your orgasm down his ready tongue. 

Jaw ajar, he lets you riiiiiiide your waves of bliss through and through his mouth. His handsome features. Your hands being a permanent fixture in his hair now, “P-please…” Blabbering away as the dopamine renders you more loose than ever, “Feels so good, Choso—”

Those ears of his perk up, “Yeah?”

“Feels so good- hck!” Sparking all over with pleasure. “Shit- it might just be the b-best orgasm of my damn life.”

And it really was.

You weren’t just saying this to soothe his rut - those sudden jolts and sparks, the way that he’d prolong them so much by massaging your bundles of nerves…it was the best you’ve ever felt. Choso just keeps swervin’ and swervin’ his knobbly fingertips against that pulsing target of your g-spot, in sloppy tandem with the slurps of his mouth suckling away on your clit. Again and again.

Draaaaaagging out your euphoria until it seemed like it couldn’t go on any longer- then pumping a fresh few waves of electricity into you with the sudden hits at your g-spot. Again and again.

“Mmmm, I’ve been a good boy then.” He murmurs deep into your cunt. And it’s only once most of the haze clouding your mind has cleared up - by the time that your orgasm has diminished into nothing but a few tender jolts - that you’re finally registering the way Choso’s hips were still humpin’ away against your body. 

The way that Choso crushed his large, sculptured frame to yours and rutted into you like a dog in heat- “Been- been such a good boy. Can this good boy get a…”

He bores his pleading eyes up at you.

Feverishly flushed.

“-treat then, ma’am?”

You’re riding out the last of your high on that very handsome face, and you gasp. “But of course, Cho.”

In practically no time, you’re finding yourself helping Choso Kamo stand up- yes, you were the one to help him stand up.

The powerful hybrid was just too pussydrunk on you to even stand straight—being readily moved in the direction of the bed. Pheromones heating up. Rut intensified. Choso’s clamoring onto the mattress on your command, letting himself fall backwards against the pillows and half-hide his face against their puffiness.

His dewy mahogany eyes peek at you as you shrug off your clothes and join him- stopping right between those long legs of his. “Wh-what are you going to do, mistress?”

“Give you a little payback, of course.” You’re winking. And without further ado—you’re pushing apart his slightly-jittery legs; almost miles long now that you were seeing them from this angle. He was flushed all the way up to his inner thighs, highlighting the spattering of freckles that he had upon that skin.

From here, you could see his rock-hard erection even better - sure, you’d been given a proper show earlier. But this?

This gave you the opportunity to admire eeeeeevery single detail up-close.

The sheer rose shade at the crown of his shaft, the way it graduated down to the prettiest pink on his hilt. No wonder he liked that collar so much, it looked so similar to the color of his…

The veins upon veins that made the most beautiful patterns down his cock - they curved and overlapped in a way that made your cunt throb. The way his dark curls spattered him all the way down to his swollen hilt—Choso was mostly well-groomed, though he didn’t seem to have had the sense of mind to trim these days. But you almost…liked it like that. 

The way he was not only blessed with incredible length, but incredible girth, too—perhaps even bigger now that he was in rut? But you’d always imagined that Choso would be the type to have a massive cock anyway, it’s always the silent ones who do…

The hybrid watches - looking as though he wanted to tear his eyes away from a vision so lewd but couldn’t - as your pretty face looms closer n’ closer to his throbbing erection. Fuck, he might just be longer than your damn face…seeing it compared like this…he can’t help but let his tail wag ferociously. 

“Now now, Cho.” Your stern voice breaks through, “Settle down now or I won’t be able to-”

“S-sorry!” He stops immediately.

And you grip the base of his red, thickened cock. “No interrupting me.” Hard.

“I understand…” Choso whines, body startin’ to arch off of the mattress - though he holds himself back for the most part given how he wasn’t sure how you’d react. Would you punish him? Would you like it?

Whatever his frenzied mind had been fearfully conjuring up, it’s all wiped blank by the feeling of you surging your head down and gulping up the first few inches of him. Happily.

First, Choso’s mouth drops. 

Then, the sensation of your wet tongue on his cock hits him.

Finally, he’s planting his feet at the edge of the bed and bucking- gripping onto your scalp with his hands. Bucking. And bucking. And bucking—he cries out, “Oh f-fuuuuuck, ngh—” Just a few tears of overstimulation leaving the sides of his eyes, “Fuck- ngh, this is what it feels like?”

Of course, you certainly couldn’t respond due to your mouth being full - but that doesn’t stop you from looking up at him through your lashes and winking.

The thickness of his cock fills up your entire mouth, pulsating in a way that was incredible. The creamy layers of pre that topped his bulbous tip tasted almost…sweet? Almost like salted caramel - and you didn’t know whether that was you or the pheromones talking. 

“Fuck-”

You’re just starting to give Choso a few gooooood, loooong bobs of your head—up and down. Up and down. Slobberin’ your entire mouth from the top of his mushroomy tip and about halfway down that incredible length.

But that’s around when the hand at your scalp grows almost searing.

And you’re looking up to find Choso shaking his head after only a mere few seconds of you giving him a blowjob- “P-please…any longer and m’gonna cum.” Which had just been too good for him.

You pull yourself off of his fared tip with a pwah! “Aaaaand?” Still kissing him down there.

“And I want to…ngh, save it.” He admits, eyes not meeting yours.

“Save it?” You’re cocking your head in confusion, “Save it for what, Choso?”

“Well…”

“Answer me, baby.”

“Yes, ma’am—” The dog hybrid looks up at you with a slightly pouty expression, “I wanted to save for when I f-fuck you…”

Your jaw drops.

There’s a slight silence in the room- though the sudden heated increase in pheromones does enough talking for the both of you. And you’re wasting no time before removing yourself completely from his cock—he ruts. 

Before pushing those hips of his right back down.

Before shuffling up the king-sized mattress to straddle either side of his thoroughly sculptured hips, feeling the curves and divots of his muscles there.

Before perkin’ your hips juuuuust behind you and catching Choso’s globular tip in your entrance- slamming your cunt down as far as you could take him.

You’re sucking in a harsh breath as the first heated inch of him enters your cunt—shit, he really did feel as good as you’d imagined. “Fuck.” 

The pointed top of his shaft probin’ inwards. 

Zig-zagging veins massaging up against your soft walls. 

The throbbing of his shaft creating a vicious drumbeat that you find your pounding heart synchronizing to- you’re throwing your head back and arching your hips to get more of him- and right now it seems like you were the one that was finding yourself utterly ruined on his body. 

Your hands find themselves slitherin’ right up his toned body—right past those ripples and curves of his muscles. Ultimately resting on top of both his pecs, “Fuck, Cho.”

“Mistress…” He pants out- lips meeting yours in an open-mouthed kiss.

With a low snarl, you’re absolutely melting into his embrace. It’s barely anything of a kiss and more like Choso was bearing his canines and glide-glide-gliiiiding them dangerously down the front of your cracked maw. Just the slight softness of his actual lips peaking through and gluing against yours ravenously, “Choso-”

“Mistress.” 

“Choso- you feel so good.” Before you know it, Choso rams his strong hips up - plunging his achingly hard cock - just the slightest few inches until he suddenly stops. But not because he’d bottomed-out. It’s as though he’d been completely and utterly ready to pound your silly cervix raw- but jerked himself to a stop out of nothing but pure will and the need to-

“G-get permission.” He mutters between trembling lips, words coming out as nothing but a few slurred syllables - each one melting into the last. 

And as you’re blinking away the haze in your eyes, attempting to make sense of him, you ask. “Get permission? You want permission to- ngh, fuck me, Choso? You know you already have it…‘

He shakes his head. “Not…that…” Sounding as if he was on the very verge of ruination just from the way he found himself stuffed inside you—not moving a single inch. But still ruined.

The pheromones in the room heighten, and Choso’s tail swishes agitatedly. 

“Then what is it?”

“It’s something far, far dirtier…” He admits, and despite his words there was the shyest blush upon his face. And you swear his cock starts to throb even harder at his utterance—going to the extent that it felt like Choso was damn near about to explode- “It’s where I- hngh, fuck, it’s not something that a hybrid like me deserved to even imagine about you, mistress.”

As though he couldn’t even stop himself - his hips were moving in the slightest ruts up and down now. Up and down. Up and down. Barely-there grinds that almost felt more lecherous than just fucking up into you.

His tail starts to wag once more as Choso starts rubbin’ his tip against the roof of your cunt. Forgoing those rational desires of his to not fuck you until he gained permission for…whatever it is that he was too afraid to admit. Those pinkish lips of his quiver as you’re starting to clench around him—“I-it’s nothing something I deserve…but fuck, how many times I’ve thought a-about it…”

“Then tell me.” You’re humming ruthlessly down at him. His eyes slightly widen at the commanding tone of your voice - surely, you must know that he could never deny you when you speak to him like that? “That’s an order from your master, baby—”

He shivers. “A-an order?”

“Tell me what it is that you’ve been thinking about for so long.”

Choso’s slick-wettened cock slips in just a few inches deeper, and he whimpers something inaudible.

“What was that?” You’re leaning down to hear him better.

His lips moving mere millimeters away from your own, “I-I’ve always thought about- ngh, almost ever since the first time I saw you- fuck, it was like th-this animal desire in me…” Big, bulbous tears collecting at the edge of his right eye, Choso finally jerks his hips up—“Permission to breed you, mistress?”

Oh—

That ‘yes, baby’ is keening out of you faster than you can register it leaving your hips.

And that’s all it takes for Choso to succeed in bottoming-out, that’s all it takes for Choso to dig his strawberry divot against the edge of your cervix, that’s all it takes for Choso to fully n’ properly start to fuck up into you like an absolute madman. 

Arching his back against the mattress.

Higher with his hips, lower with his shoulders: he runs his pumping tip across every inch of the roof of your cunt—even deeper, and then stirs his fattened length around in search of that pretty g-spot he’d been troublin’ so much not too long ago. Pump after pump.

Probe after heavy prooooobe of his geysering orifice- you’re feeling your toes curl at the sensation of being so full with him. Warm and heavy inside you. “Permission granted-” You gasp out.

And though he’d already heard your affirmative answer from earlier, it makes Choso swell up just a liiiiittle thicker at his circumference. Snaggin’ against the sides of your elastic walls, he’s filling you up  like nothing before, just so plump n’ puckering up at every nook…especially around the area of his base that seemed to be growing at an even faster rate than the rest of him…

But you have no time - nor ability - to count away at the feverish throbs and stretches of Choso’s cock right now. Right now, he’s runnin’ his tip against the side of your g-spot until that pretty inner lining of your walls bulge with his sheer size—

“Permission- oh.” You’re throwing your head back in sheer pleasure, seeing white burst behind your eyes. “P-permission…” Sounding as though a broken record-player, “And for how long have you wanted this permission, baby?”

“Too long.” Choso cries out. Hands trembling upon either side of your hips, “Been wanting this pretty pussy for w-waaaay too long- as far as I can remember…was just impossible when I was smelling her sweetness all the damn time.”

Your heart races, “And how long have you been wanting to breed me-”

“Always.”

And after a few more probes n’ a sudden clench—from your sopping wet walls, Choso whimpers and tucks his head into the crook of your neck - where you’d assumed that humans had their scent glands. 

His heavy balls thwack! the globes of your ass cheeks when he drills his cock inwards, “I’ve n-never had a rut before…” He admits, “It just never felt like the right time. But this- fuck, primal part of me always wondered just how pretty you’d look all round and glowing a-and…pregnant.”

“Pregnant?” You breathe.

“Pregnant with my pups.” Choso babbles out. Those doe-like eyes of his kept on rolling to the back of his head every time he’s feeling himself being clenched juuuuust a little tighter than usual. Dark brows furrowing. Hands tightening. “Wondered just how much your- hah, pretty tits would grow even more.” Mouth lathering over your right tit, he suckles—as though expecting milk to come pouring out already. “Wondered just how sweet your milk would be, mmmm…”

“And what else?” You huff. But the hybrid’s just so dazed on your pussy and his rut and your pussy that it takes a firm tug on his collar before he’s back to his senses.

 “Huh- oh—” Choso blinks his teary-clung eyes back open, peering around the thickly-scented room as though he’d just forgotten where he was already. “Wondered just how many people would stare at you as we w-walked down the street, me on your leash…”

“And why’s that?”

“Because just how many of them would think that it’s me—” Out-of-breath. Voice a couple octaves higher than usual - utterly gone. You didn’t have to feel the steadily-increasing sloppiness of his cock to know that Choso was losing himself - thwack! thwack! thwack! “Just how many of them would think that it’s your poor, shy puppyboy that fucked you all pregnant, mistress?”

“Shiiiiit—” Your legs were starting to tremble - and whether because of fatigue or something else entirely, you’re unsure. But Choso immediately snakes his fingers down just a little lower to cup either side of your ass, and he’s using his immense strength to support you as you start bouncing back down onto his merciless thrusts. “Keep going-”

His eyes grow wide, “P-permission to-”

“Keep going, Choso.”

And who was he to go against his mistress’s wishes? Especially when such wishes was something that he’d been wanting to do since the day he fucking met you—fuck, perhaps even sooner. It was always in that carnal part of him that he’d been trying to ignore ever since the first time he smelled your beautiful, addictive scent outside his bed at the clinic. Those curtains were useless - he already knew that you’d be the most beautiful thing he ever laid his eyes upon. 

Like cherries, syrup, and sex.

And right now he was fucking into the most beatiful thing of all- your thighs press against that No. 1 tattoo on his v-line, and you’re keening.

Arching your back so that the roooough curvature of his cock could stir up your insides even more than he already was- and that was saying quite a lot already. That ridged pattern of his veins were bumpin’ up against the sides of your channel, your nerves, and making you clench around him even tighter—leaving the hybrid more and more honest with every single thrust. “I’m s-such a dirty hybrid…so perverted.” He admits, “I’d even wonder about trying to fuh-fuck you pregnant all over again every single day—”

“H-how do you mean?” You’re panting out.

“I’d wonder how many times it’d take to plant my seed inside- to fuck you so full that it finally- hngh, takes.” Eyes only partly-cracked open, “And then I’d wonder that it’d be best to fuck you every- single- day-”

“Yes-” You’re mewling out, your nails digging into the plushness of his pecs.

“I’d make sure my hybrid cum’s dripping down your legs every second of the day-”

“Yes.”

“I’d make sure when we’re walking—ngh, going on our walks, that every single hybrid in a five-mile distance is going to smell me on you…” Choso leans in as though sharing one of his deepest, darkest secrets, “-and in you.”

“Yes—”

“And thennnnn—” It’s here that an almost sleazy smirk graces his pretty lips, “I’d wonder about fucking you even after you were pregnant.”

Your jaw drops, and your hands fly to his collar.

“I’d wonder about fucking you u-until your womb remembered me and…” So caught up in his sinful words that you hadn’t even registered that the thickened base of his shaft was only growing thicker…and thicker, and even thicker—to the extent that now it was a round circumference nearly twice or thrice what it had normally been, and you hadn’t even seemed to notice the slamming slaps against the forefront of your cunt. Faster. Harder. His right hand dips down between your jittery legs to start teasin’ your clit with fresh tugs and rolls, “—we don’t stop until we have nine kids.”

Nine kids.

Nine kids?!

Choso Kamo had been so-ravenously dreaming about pumping you full of nine of his kids; creating a small army of hybrid half-breeds that would likely look just like him but with your open warmth and that beautiful smile of his. And why was it that you could imagine it so clearly? 

“Nine kids…” Eleven repeating it a few times doesn’t do much to let the words fully sink in - who would have thought that the nervous, innocent Choso Kamo would be such a lewd character inside? Who would have thought that he’d be nodding along to your repetition.

Gingerly letting his eyes slip to the side of his pillows, “B-but I know that’s just a far-off- ngh, dream, mistress.” Much more of the usual Choso that you know, though he’s still fucking up into you as though it ached him very second that he wasn’t stuffing you all the way to the brim inside - Choso’s rounded, reddened tip plasters against the back of your pussy and you’re yowling. “That’s why I stole those panties, that’s why had to- ngh, satiate myself with just my hand…”

And that makes you slightly more alert- “My panties? Where are my panties, by the way?”

He shyly shrugs.

To which you’re narrowing your eyes in suspicion, “Choso…”

And the larger hybrid almost flinches- “Th-they’re under my pillows.”

Without a mere moment of hesitation, you’re diving your hand underneath one of those puffy pillows you’d picked out just for him during that first shopping trip you’d undertaken with him…and you find all those panties you’d lost. Half your drawer, to be precise. 

Choso whimpers as you’re pulling a few strappy pieces of lace and gauze out—some of the sluttiest of your collection, and your fingers had scraped the rest of it that still remained down under. Honestly, how many had he collected without you realizing at first? How many had he fucking used—?

Those scraps of fabric were sticky and slightly cloying to each of your senses- and so what else could you think of doing? What better option for punishment was there to do but gather them up into a tight ball in your hand and push them between Choso’s pinkish, puffy lips- gagging him with your panties. Your panties that he’d used to jerk off.

A taste of his own medicine - or at least it was supposed to be. You just didn’t expect for Choso’s tail to start wagging even harder than ever. 

Pervert puppyboy.

“So you wanted to breed me, huh?”

“N-not wanted…” He corrects you, hips surging up uncontrollably into your wetness. “Want.”

“So you want to breed me, huh? So you want to make all those dreams a reality?” Purring, and the man beneath you can only nod with his massive tear-filled eyes - just so pretty when he cried, hm? To stimulate him even further, you’re exerting your hips to outmatch his pace, rammin’ his bulbous cock into every crevice and geysering orifice that you’re able to realize exists—“Then you know that you still haven’t gotten my- ngh, permission for that, Choso, baby.”

Choso sputters out an exhale, “P-please, ma’am?” Muffled through your own panties. Rubbin’ his roughened thumb against your clit even further to sweeten the deal—“Do I have the permission to-”

“Yes-” And whatever hopeful moan was about to leave him, you’re cutting him off. “But only on one condition.”

“Please- what is it…?” He hisses, “Please-”

“But be warned, it’s a bit of a tough one-”

“I’ll do anything.”

And this was exactly where you wanted him. Exactly. You’re smiling down at the beautiful, utterly ruined boy beneath you—and pulling him in with a finger hooked underneath his pink collar - one that proudly had your name upon his pendant - to whisper into his flustered ears. “Then…bark like you want it.”

Choso’s eyes widen just a fraction. His cock trembles dangerously deep inside of you, and his nostrils flare as he exhales a large breath. Right before- 

“R-ruff…” Before he’s muffling out the sweetest, most sultry fucking barks through the panties you’d gagged into his mouth- all because you’d asked. At the smell of your treacly cunt only growing even more aroused, Choso continues—“Ruff- arf—”

Your grin grows, “Ohoho? Louder.”

“Ruff-”

“Louder.”

“Ruff—woof.” He was just embarrassing himself, and it only made him even harder. Cock blushin’ almost as much as his cheeks were by this point- “Arf- arf, pleeeeese, ma’am.”

“Hmmm?”

Those dilated pupils of his cross, and Choso’s spitting out the gag of those gauzy - soiled with his own cum - fabrics to plead through trembling lips. 

“P-please let me breed you, mistress.”

And what else more could you say but—“Of course, Cho.”

And in the next few sloppy thrusts, you’re feeling Choso empty out rope after loooooong heaving rope of cum inside you. It’s sheer volumes that you never even thought possible, sheer wads that were webbin’ up your tight insides and taking over every single ounce of space inside you - each with those creamy, glued-up wads of his seed. 

Warm and wet.

Wild.

They’re splashin’ around inside of you and lacquering a thiiiiick few layers upon the channel of your cunt—over and over and over again. Choso doesn’t even need to try to make sure that every single spot is covered, because the sheer volume makes it impossible for a generous heap of his sap to puddle at your cervix, gettin’ hit by a torrential wave of his cockhead striking. Pumping deep inside. 

Choso’s twitchy balls press up against your ass, just the slightest bit of your pussylips, and you’re shivering as you feel the orgasm that runs through him.

Collar dangling.

“Fuck…” Choso seethes through clenched canines, one of his hands coming up to press down upon your core. That cute front of yours where if he pressed juuuuuuust right- he could feel the vibrations of his shaft emptying out at your sponge-covered womb, “Fuck, m’gonna get at least one kid tonight , ma’am.”

Soon enough, you’re crashing into your own high, too.

And it zaps through your body faster than the last one - clearly having been so overstimulated that this one overtakes you more quickly, this one makes you see stars behind your eyelids, this one makes you shiver n’ shake on top of him.

Being properly fucked through your rapidfire waves of dopamine as he leans you even closer into his arms. As he nuzzles the side of your neck. As he hums out sounds of satisfaction at every euphoric peak he’s probin’ his massive cockhead into.

As Choso leans down and bites the side of your scent glands—you’re feeling something pop! 

And you’re experiencing a sudden rush of warmth like another orgasm- like a hundred thousand other orgasms. It all courses through your overstimulated body one by one, at the same time, increasing in both length and intensity—it’s breaking you down to your very core—until you don’t even realize that you’re gasping out Choso’s name like a prayer. 

And he’s worshipping yours in much the same fashion. 

Basically ruining it with his lewd tone as he manages to slip that girthy knot of his inside - grinding n’ grinding the plumpness of his base until he’s fit-fit-fiiiiiiiiiitting in. Your cunt stretches like elastic around him, and it’s unbelievable to you that you’re able to fit so much of him inside like this. 

You can feel him hot and throbbing deep inside you.

Preventing you from leaking even a single wad of his dewy white cum you’re milking. 

“My mate…” Choso rasps out. You’re collapsed on top of him by now, and he runs one open palm down the curvature of your spine—then aaaaaall the way back up again to check on that freshly-made bonding mark on you - all bloodied and already healing through the special properties of a hybrid mate’s saliva - and then even further up to trace that collar of his. Lock broken. Your name always against his beating chest. Having you mewling at the sensation of his knot-

Currently, however, it was also your head against his beating chest. 

You’re gripping onto his muscular body even further- and it almost makes you chuckle to feel that way just that makes Choso’s cock twitch inside of you. “No…” You state simply, “My mate.‘

“Anything you say, ma’am.”

.

.

.

Thereafter, it hadn’t been too long before Choso had roped you into a second round. Then a third. Then a fourth—where he’d been whimpering and shooting blanks, drool dripping down either side of his mouth as his cock slid into you in a thorough mating press.

And then a fifth. A sixth.

A seventh- honestly, after the seventh you’d stopped counting. 

You didn’t trust Choso to keep count, either - honestly, you don’t think you would’ve trusted Choso to remember his own name. 

Not this night or any of the hot summer nights that came after. 

By the time the heat’s simmered down, and your lungs don’t feel clogged with the cloying sweetness of mingled pheromones, and you’re finally able to crack open your eyelids in this sultry sauna of a bedroom—you can barely move. 

Body heavy.

Limbs aching.

Even the tiniest of twitches sending soreness shooting through your vessels.

You’re finding yourself tucked to Choso’s side underneath the covers- hand thrown around his muscular side, your chin hooked into the curvature of his spine. Who’d have thought that the big, bad hybrid would’ve been a small spoon? 

That collar of yours was still ‘round his neck and showed no signs of being taken off soon. And you’re remembering just then that through most of his rut, the two of you had gotten up to scarf down food and clean yourselves when necessary. Though towards the feverish end of it, honestly you couldn’t remember anything other than wanting him to mark you with a bonding bite over and over and over again- so why were you notably wiped down and smelling of your favorite body wash?

Did Choso…wash you down even through his rut? 

You knew the pheromones always hit the strongest towards the beginning and the end of one’s rut, did he really push through all that n’ tenderly tuck you in?

You’re feeling such a rush of affection for your puppyboy, and, sleepily, you press a line of kisses down the column of his throat- marked as well. In the heat of the moment, you’d somehow managed to puncture Choso’s scent glands with your own human canines. 

He was yours, and you were his. 

Choso hums groggily and snuggles even further backwards against you. Frankly, you think you could cuddle up against him and spend another day here—another week, another month.

Perhaps even the rest of your life.

But if only that incessant bzz-bzzing would stop.

With a pained groan, you’re managing to sit up and blink your eyes somewhere behind you - where the noise seemed to be pulsing from. Choso whines in disappointment and attempts to pull you back down with his warm hands- and oh, how it hurt you to deny those puppydog eyes. 

“I’ll be cuddling you soon, spoiled baby.” You tut down at him. Finally locating the source of the noise, you’re reaching your sore hand out and grabbing onto your glaring phone.

Its screen assaults you with light immediately.

And then with a phone call.

Dr. Ieri Shoko.

Wincing, you’re answering the call. “Hello?”

“Woof- you sound rough.” Her cool tone wavers just the slightest in amusement, “Rough week?”

“Rough day.” You’re joking, “Rough rut.”

And there’s a slight pause on the other end of the line, “Right, but…you do realize it’s been a week, right?” 

“What?”

“Yes.”

“What?”

Almost immediately, you’re ripping your ear away from the phone and checking the date- fuck, Shoko hadn’t been messing with you. It really was a week since that last time you’d called her—you spent an entire week together in bed with him? And you hadn’t even realized?

Jaw dropping as so many things hit you at once, “My job-”

“Has already been notified.” And she sounded to be the exact opposite of you, collected and pausing for what you assumed to be sips of her morning coffee. “After our last call, I signed you up for the Hybrid Rut Registry- I do this for everyone that shelters, but didn’t consider it for Choso. It lets your workplace and loved ones know if and when your hybrid is in rut—and for your relationship I entered it as you’d be needed for the duration of the rut.”

Your heart races at her (very correct) assumption.

“You’re welcome.” She hums, “Also double-check on that to make sure that everything’s in order there- and also congratulations-”

Your bitten mark throbbed.

“-I expect to see you both at the clinic for a check-up today.” From your side, Choso wraps his muscular arms around you with a whine for you to come back. “But that’s not actually what I was calling you about- I was actually checking on your availability.”

“My availability?”

“Yes, for the program.” She replies simply.

“The program? Th-the companionship program?” You breathe, “Wait- I can help another hybrid?”

And she merely hums in satisfaction, “Mhm, I’ve got another hybrid that needs your help.” And whatever Choso’s honed senses let him hear or feel—he’s sitting up on the bed and pressing his face to the crook of your neck. “Another dog hybrid- a year older than Choso, slightly smaller, golden retriever variety, same intelligent and mild demeanor.” 

“Yes?” You breathe. Heart pounding already. 

“His name is Ino Takuma.”

A/N. WALK ‘EM LIKE A DOG, SIS, WALK ‘EM LIKE A DOOOOOOOOOG-

One of his hands jerks upwards- right to the pounding space above his heart. He knows he must look a bit of a sight right now - a grown man pawing at his chest - and part of him wonders whether this was all the all-nighters taking a toll on him. About time.

But another part of him wonders whether he should consult a cardiologist.

Also about time.

Because it’s been like this ever since he hired you - the vetting process for finding a nanny had been a long and tedious one. And Nanami had rejected (he’s sure) at least fifty different candidates, had been blocked by five different agencies, before he finally landed on you. Either they’d been too strict, or too lenient, or too new, or simply not cut out to handle the benevolent whirlwind that was his adopted son.

The poor man had been on the verge of giving up.

In fact, he was two paragraphs into an email to HR whilst stress-eating a homemade Danish pastry and wondering whether buying his boss flowers would be overkill- when it happened. God, could this day get any worse? First his manager gives him a ton of work just before he clocked off, certainly not in his list of responsibilities, then he’d burned those damn Danish pastries, then one of the nannies he’d interviewed had nearly passed out at the sheer energy Yuji had.

He’d been working more and more these days. And Nanami needed just a few more months - a few more nights putting in overtime before he could-

It was then that the doorbell had rang.

Ba-dump! 

He opened the door tentatively, hoping that it wasn’t yet another ambush by a salesperson - each with their bright plastic garbage, and their even brighter smiles. But what he’d been met with instead wasn’t one of those visitors he dreaded…not in the very least. It was you—

And your explanation that you were here because of Shoko.

“Erm- she told me that you were looking for a nanny?” You flashed your conversation with Nanami’s clinical friend as proof. He flickered his gaze over to the screen but his eyes remained unreading—he remembers turning them back over to you.

Blinking at the vision of you.

And you’d slightly jolted at the intensity in them.

Digging through your pin-covered bag, “I also have my CV in here…somewhere.” He watched as you only grew more and more frustrated as that CV evaded you- “It really should be somewhere- give me one second-”

“That’s alri-”

But instead of your CV, your bag had poured out notes and pens in return. So much of it that Nanami marvelled at just how much fit inside that humble satchel. They dropped to the floor and you dived to pick them up, wincing. “I’m so- sorry-”

“Let me.” Crouching down in front of you, Nanami’s much-larger hands had had no trouble scooping all those papers up. In an instant he had them aligned neatly and handed to you. Prim. Proper.

By the tie still ‘round his neck, you guessed he’d just come home from work - and little did you know he’d also just finished four failed interviews for the position of nanny - yet he didn’t have a single blond hair out of line. They were slicked-back and handsome in a way you’d seen only in old movie stars. You thought you saw a few strands of silver.

Lines at the edges of his eyes. That tired strength about him.

It was hard to not ogle him.

Your fingertips brushed his rougher ones as you took the papers from him. “Thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure.” The older man peered down at you—so intense that you could almost feel yourself sinking into the mediocre polyester carpet lining the apartment hallway. Neither of you made a move to get up. “I want to ask you about your availability.”

You’d jumped slightly. “You…you actually want to hire me after that- I mean!”

“Should I not?” And what was this? Nanami Kento had to stifle a chuckle at that? How curious…it must’ve been the work day getting to him at that point- yes. He was feeling a little delirious.

“I mean- please do…”

He’d looked away with a slight smile once you reached into the depths of your bag once more. This time, you didn’t make it erupt in scribbled notes- instead you were pulling out a printed table that looked to be a time table. “Sorry I just- printing makes it easier for me to remember…sometimes.” You explained, “I don’t have any lectures on Wednesday and Friday- and the ones I have on the rest of the weekdays are rather flexible so—”

A college student!

Nanami’s jaw had dropped then.

He knew you looked young but-

A college student?!

“Wait a minute…” One of his hands twitched, almost as if to beckon that time table to himself and make sure.

But then you nodded, “I first met Shoko-san during a medical conference she gave at the university, and she told me you worked late on weekdays. I should be free in the evenings then, but will you be working late on the weekends as well? Because I do have this one professor that really-”

Nanami didn’t know how on Earth the topic of him would’ve even cropped up in your conversations- but he needed to end this.

Now.

Listen. It wasn’t that you seemed like a bad kid- you seemed great, even! But Nanami himself was well into his thirties with absolutely zero idea on balancing Yuji and his work life. So he really didn’t want to burden someone over a decade younger than him with-

“Papa?”

The sweetest, sleepiest voice echoed from inside.

He doesn’t even have to turn his head to know that Itadori was swaying, all decked-out in his Spiderman pajamas, at the end of the hallway. Likely having gotten out for water or because of the ruckus caused outside. He blinked his sluggish eyes open and ogled the two of you.

Nanami doesn’t know why- but he shoots up to a stand. Almost as if he was caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to.

You followed.

Which one of you three was the responsible parent here, by the way?

His parched mouth opened to—what? There was nothing to explain. 

It was true that Nanami hadn’t had the time to even stop and think about dating or relationships in the time since he’d adopted Yuji. Not even if he wanted to. And, admittedly, he did have dreams of getting married one day - he watched all those sappy TV shows, alright? He knew how it felt.

He wanted to walk beside someone to that shrine. He wanted to have a few more kids, to give Yuji a bigger family than this. He wanted to quit his dead-end job and move out with his family to a bigger house in the countryside. 

But none of that was as important as his son right now.

However, he knew that Yuji saw all those happy couples during pick-up at the elementary school- and his boy was sweet. The sweetest, actually. Nanami knew that Yuji wouldn’t say a single thing about him being the only exhausted father to arrive all alone. Day after day.

The two of them in their lonesome.

His sweet boy would beam the biggest smile nevertheless. 

But kids were smarter than adults gave them credit for. Doesn’t he feel that loneliness, too? 

Perhaps that was why Yuji ran up to you in an instant.

Right past his haggard father and only towards you - all previous sleepiness now gone - he reached up towards the pretty stranger with the pretty pin-covered bag.

Stubby finger pointing up at a particularly red one—“Do you like Spwiderman, too?”

“Of course.” Leaning down, you smiled warmly at the boy. His hair was a rose-colored mess that stuck up at all odd angles. “And my spidey senses are telling me that a certain someone does, too?”

He gasped, “That’s me!”

Before Nanami knows it, you were held hostage and dragged inside by a particularly overactive pink-haired boy. Shown all around the apartment as part of your tour to be shown-off Yuji’s prized Spiderman-themed bedroom. 

And unbeknownst to him - against that lock-and-key and jaded guard - you’d walked into Nanami Kento’s cozy Tokyo apartment (and the strange cavity in his chest that softened whenever you were around).

He sighed.

A college student!

Still, Nanami can’t deny that it’s been a delight having you around.

Despite your packed schedule and your note-filled bag, you were always there to greet him when he came home. Without fail. Either tapping away at some assignment due before midnight, or humming to yourself as you wiped down the kitchen counters—last minute fluffy pancake emergency, he thinks of those nights.

Even though it’d been about eight months since your initial meeting, it’s almost fearsome how easily he’d gotten used to the routine of it all.

Something that should be so mundane - he flips each moment through his mind over and over again until it felt like they made up the grooves of his brain itself. The gyri and the sulci. Or so he’d heard you muttering to yourself as you studied one night. 

He’s studied, too. He’s memorized how you’d open the door for him, with a smile across your face and a finger to your lips- telling the older man to be quiet as he shook off his shoes. He’s memorized how you’d never fail to tell him about the leftovers in the fridge as you reached for your satchel. He’s memorized how you’d hesitate to meet his gaze- but smile the brightest once you do, and how you’d linger at the doorstep telling him about Yuji’s day.

Nanami has memorized how it made some dust-covered part of his heart stir. Blinking away the exhaustion of the day. 

Nanami Kento has never felt more invigorated than he is during those sparse few minutes that he caught up with you at the end of the night. Voices low, like neither of you wanted to interrupt a sleeping thing—Yuji, yes. But something else, too.

He gets the feeling that it’d feel like this even if you weren’t around as a job. If perhaps the two of you had met- the same age, at the same university.

Maybe in-between the sluggish hours of study sessions where you help him with some particularly hard question. Maybe in the library where he helps you reach some dusty ol’ book from the topmost shelf.

Times like this, he allows himself to dream.

You’d make the best wife.

You were the best nanny he could’ve ever chosen.

But one always has to wake up to one’s alarm. He sets his alarms himself.

“Come in.” Nanami tells you as he shrugs off his coat at the entrance. He watches as you stop in your tracks at the doorway, fiddling with your familiar pin-draped bag. “I’m just about to fire up some brownies for tomorrow.”

You pause.

“I-if it’s not too late and you don’t have any classes early tomorrow or-”

“I’d skip all my classes for some of your brownies.”

He lets out a breath of relief as you start walking back from the doorway. “Please don’t.”

It takes a little less than half an hour for the brownies to bake until they are crisp on the top and perfectly gooey in the middle. Layers of chocolate that are only sweetened by the conversation that you brought into Nanami Kento’s humble kitchen. 

He listens as you talk about your day, about that professor that’d been out to get you, about that exam you were sure you’d fail (he knows you won’t in the end). Only adding brief hums of affirmation and nods as the older man sweeps through his counters, broad back turned to you, muscles flexing against his office shirt as he whipped up a hot fudge as well as a strawberry sauce for you to add to your brownies.

“—and you’d never guess what Yuji told me today.” Tonight you seem a little more breathless than usual. Stuttering out your thank-yous as he brings out the tray from the oven and cuts out the first piece for you.

“Blow on it. It’s hot.” Nanami leans over the other side of the kitchen island. He watches as your pretty lips fall into a soft circle, “What were you saying, my dear?”

“Well-” You dart your gaze around the rest of the empty apartment. “You know how it’s Valentine’s Day tomorrow, Nanami-san?”

Nanami runs a hand through his silver-streaked hair. Smoothing it down. He knows how his son can be, and he has to bite back the grin that threatens to spread across his face. “Mhm?”

“Yuji here seems to think that- well…” Bringing a hand up to your lips, fingertips slightly shaking. The brownie was just amazing. “He seems to think that Valentine’s Day is a bit like Christmas, you see. And so the entire day he wouldn’t stop making a list for Cupid.”

Now that piques his interest particularly- Nanami was never a man to skimp out whenever his loved one wanted something. “Oh, is that so? And what does he ask from this ah- Cupid?”

“That is- I don’t even know if this is appropriate for me to say but…” Looking around one last time. “But it seems Yuji is under the impression that we are together.”

“Oh.”

“Together together.”

“Oh.” He can’t help but inch just a little closer- a strange weight in his stomach. Not entirely unpleasant. “I see.”

You’re mustering up a little more courage, “And it seems that what Yuji wants the most this Valentine’s is…for us to get married. Spiderman-themed wedding, he says.” Watching as Nanami’s eyes slightly widen. “B-but of course, I told him that that might not exactly be in erm- Cupid’s range of power! He kept insisting however-”

He looks at you silently as you rub your temples.

“Because then he said a little brother or sister would be fine, too…” Was it time for the conversation about the birds and the bees already? Instead of storks, Yuji relies on Cupid?!

Nanami follows suit, running a hand through the silver streaks in his hair. “Is that so?” He sighs. “I shall have a little talk with him about asking…immoderate requests of Cupid.”

“He’s a sweet boy. Just a little confused.” You smile sheepishly. “Though I can’t really blame him- my friends think we’re together, too.”

Just an inch closer. “I see.”

And Nanami feels your breathing go heavy- enveloped in the hint of his cologne, the sweetness of the brownies, the musk of something that was entirely him. “I-it’s silly, isn’t it…”

He stares at you intently, reading your every reaction. “Quite.” Pupils flickering down your face. Just another inch closer—you wonder how much more space was left, and what you wanted to do with it. “I’m far too old for you, my dear.”

Your lips part-

The clock strikes eleven.

Both of you startle as if shocked with electricity- “I-I really should-”

“Yes, I understand-”

“The brownies were amazing-”

“Please, take this.” He pushes a bag topped with that delicacy and more of whatever topping you liked into your hands.

“Thank you so much.” You rush out breathlessly, other hand snatching your bag from the counter. “Night, Nanami-san—!”

“Goodnight, my dear.”

“And thank you for the brownies!”

The door shuts—with a lingering creak and ebb of your smile behind it. And soon enough Nanami finds himself lumbering in the direction of Yuji’s bedroom.

It’s not long before he stands before the parade of red and blue and masked superheroes: personnel stationed all to take care of the boy with a tuft of pink hair. His precious treasure. Nestled in the middle of his car-shaped bed. 

A small bedside light traces a glow across his chubby cheeks.

As he does every night, Nanami walks up to the little boy and crouches down beside the bed. Forearms rested upon the soft mattress, face rested upon his forearms- it was always around this time that Yuji would stir and look up at his father.

“Papa…” He sleepily mumbles. Rubbing his sleep-swollen eyes, “Gone?”

“Mhm.” Nanami nods. “Left just now, sunshine.”

“Awww, man—” Yuji seems to deflate- but that only pushes him deeper into the puffy pillows. Making him yawn so wide that it makes the older man chuckle. “I really like her, papa.”

His father pauses before he answers. “I like her, too, Yuji.”

“No, but- I really like her. You know, she’s my best friend along with Kugisaki and Fushiguro and you-”

Nanami starts tickling the boy on his sides until he bursts into peels of laughter. “Really, huh?”

Through giggles, he nods. Before stretching his arms above his head and falling back onto the comfy bed- perhaps he was still dreaming. “Why can’t we keep her, papa?”

“We can’t just keep people, Yuji.” Nanami has to hide his own smile. He knows he should mention the thing about Cupid right now, but he just can’t bring himself to do it. Maybe tomorrow…

“Yes, but…”

“I know, I know.” Nanami pushes his face deeper into his strong forearms. Sometimes, he still felt much like a kid himself. “I get it.”

.

.

.

The next morning, Yuji still wasn’t giving up.

“Papa, it’s Valentine’s Day!”

Papa was about to burst a blood vessel.

He’d chattered on and on about Valentine’s Day as Nanami shuffled him out of bed, he’d announced what chocolates were the best according to his very distinguished five-year-old palate as Nanami helped him brush his teeth—he’d even turned his nose up at the heart-shaped scones that Nanami had made for breakfast.

“Papa, you’re gonna hafta make better hearts than this if you want to marry-”

“Yuji, sunshine, we’re going to be late.” 

Nanami Kento was barely a match for his son. And it’s with something akin to relief - like the exhausted sigh of a stranded man, finally coming across the silhouette of a rescue boat in the bleak horizon - that he manages to hurry the boy into finishing his breakfast. Tuggin’ on his Spiderman backpack, Nanami held Yuji’s hand as they exited the apartment.

Today wasn’t even a school day.

It wasn’t even a school day! And yet the teacher wanted all students in for a short assembly and some chocolate party in class. Nanami would be damned if he didn’t let his son enjoy these small pleasures. 

The elementary school that Yuji attended was only a short distance away from the apartment- usually they’d just make the trip by foot. During those ten minutes it’d become routine for the little boy to jabber away about whatever came to his mind.

How unfortunate for Nanami Kento today that, today, all Yuji could think about was you—

Not because Nanami wasn’t doing much the same- but because he didn’t like thinking of himself as doing much the same. Even though he knew. Query: if both father and son couldn’t get you off their minds, then which one of the two was going to use it?

The older man shakes his head just a little as Yuji suggests a Spiderman wedding cake again—he disagrees with both the cake and…the wedding. Right?

But the boy catches the movement and pouts-

“Why don’t you want to tell her, papa?”

They’re stopping at a red light. Nanami didn’t want to think about how those miniscule bulbs had been programmed to flicker in the shape of a heart today, instead of the usual pedestrian walking. What an apt metaphor for his life, no? Nanami Kento wanted to find something wrong in the traffic light - in the visibility, the practicality, the color - but he couldn’t. 

In fact, it was rather pretty. 

The crossing threatened to bubble over with salarymen and salarywomen and groups of families each hoping to be the first, the fastest, to jump the road. He tugs both himself and Yuji more towards the back where they were well out of the way of whizzing cars. Is it just him or were there more wedding cars than usual today?

“Tell her what? To marry me?” He absent-mindedly answers, “What did I say about no forced marriages, Yuji?”

“No.” He lightly stomps his feet. Making the blond man look down- “I mean why don’t you tell her that you like her, papa?”

And Nanami can’t help but look around like a caught teenager. “You- you can’t just say those things, sunshine! What if she’s heading to class and nearby…”

“But you told me you did last night?” Yuji answers.

Which, fair. And it leaves Nanami slightly at a loss for words. “I…”

“But why can’t you tell her?” The child nods sagely to himself, “S’like when I broke Fushiguro’s red crayon- and I told him. Don’t you always tell me not to lie, papa?”

“That’s…true.” His father hesitates. “But that’s different from-”

“But anyway- that’s why I asked Cupid.” Yuji hums. Content. “You’re a scwaredy-cat, papa, but I asked Cupid for you. Like Santa. And Santa always gives me what I ask for.”

One day, Nanami will consider telling him that Santa had to work a month overtime to get him that car bed—happily however. But that day’s not today. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” He looks up at his father with wide, innocent eyes. “And I also asked Cupid for a bwother- maybe this year I should ask Santa, too.”

“Oh.”

“Do you think Cupid will make my wishes come true, papa?”

“I’m…afraid I can’t be sure, sunshine.”

The light turns green.

And Nanami’s the first to step out onto the road.

From here, even the crosswalk seemed to twist and turn into the shapes of hearts.

Along the rest of the way to his elementary school, Yuji tugs on Nanami’s coat and asks him for his phone—“Alright, but no games before school, Yuji.”

“Not playing games!”

And he didn’t think much of it.

Not until Nanami was on the subway heading to work, about to shoot a phone call to one of the contractors he’d be working with today- and he finds Shoko’s name in his call log.

Outgoing call → Shoko [8:01AM]

Lasted three minutes.

How strange. Nanami doesn’t remember calling his friend at any point today - it must’ve been Yuji during his walk to school. 

A mistake?

How strange, indeed…

But to be quite honest, Nanami doesn’t get the time to ponder upon this happening too deeply. The very second he’d considered clicking on that name himself and asking Shoko- the train had slid to a halt at his station.

Then came the chaos of the office: it seems that one of the interns had forgotten to fax a file yesterday. And Nanami had five angry clients on the phone before 9:00AM, one presentation to lead before 10:00AM, a few more angry clients just after the meeting, and a few more contracts to type up and edit before 12:00AM. Those utterly gaudy pink decorations hung about the room didn’t do anything to help with his oncoming headache.

Everyone in the office knew not to wish him today.

By the time that the overworked man was free for lunch, it was close to 2:00PM. His joints pop as he stretches his arms above his head, flickering a look at the clock above.

It was almost time for Yuji to be let out. Nanami knew you’d be humming to yourself as you walked to his school - and if his son was there, he’d join in, too.

At risk of sounding like a creep, he admits that he’s often listened to the low drift of your voice as you walked out of his apartment. It would start up once he shut that door. And he often stood there - on the other end - until it disappeared. Along with the sound of your footsteps.

His house always seemed smaller then.

Shaking his head free of such thoughts, Nanami stands and walks out of his department, wondering what he’ll have for lunch today. This usually wasn’t a problem with him, but this morning he’d been rather a bit…frazzled. So to say.

All those questions and ‘requests’ that Yuji had left him with just barely enough rationality to scrounge up something for the boy. As for himself, he was meandering through the busy streets of Tokyo - tarmac carpets flying by at a pace faster than he ever seemed to be able to. How was it possible for something inanimate to soar, to race, to live more than he did? Was it always built this way or was he one of the unlucky few?

He wonders which category you’d fall into.

That cheap ramen shop down the street wasn’t too bad - their broth was so good that Nanami was almost able to ignore the sappy love songs crooned from their battered radio. They had a special deal going: 80% off for all couples on Valentine’s Day! All ribbons and glitter. All special pink desserts and lovers holding hands. All love…love and a happy elderly couple behind the counter - the owners, it seems.

It was quaint- cute. The type of place he thinks you might like.

As he was walking back to the office, it seemed as though the city was fit to brim with similar sentiments. 

Flower shops bursting with bouquets like carnivorous sunsets, bleeding hearts and ruby-red roses. Candy shops with something sweet for every color of the rainbow—and more covert advertisements for more…adult indulgences. Sex shops that Nanami had to speed-walk past because of how full and flush they were. Ripe with Valentine’s Day.

Nanami Kento might try to ignore what today is, but the world sure as hell wouldn’t let him forget.

Once he finally runs back to his cubicle- he ducks his head and focuses his eyes solely on the computer screen. He hopes no one comments on the numerous glitzy bags beside him.

.

.

.

“What the hell are you doing in my apartment?”

“Y’know- most people would say—‘Wow, it’s so nice to see you. Now I should totally stop brushing off your invites for drinks. Thank you for being such a kind and respectful and understanding friend, Ieri Shoko.’” The woman in question stretches languorously on top of the couch, her test tube-patterned socks dangling from the other side. “And you’re welcome, by the way!”

Nanami raises one hand in front of him- almost as if to pause the scene entirely. He closes his eyes—when he opens them, he hopes that this had all been a bad dream and he’ll wake up to his glaring computer screen.

He opens them.

Nope- still real.

“Let me rephrase- what the hell have you done to my apartment?”

Shoko gets off the couch and gestures at the apartment like a magician showing off a trick. “Ta-da!” At all the yellow candles that cast miniature sunrises where they wept, at the music that crept sensually from some mysterious corner of the room, at the humble dining table that now looked like it came out of a Times’ 10 Best Spots To Take Your Lover for Valentine’s Day. 

Nanami’s stern lips part as he takes in the silver-covered dishes on top, on top of some white cloth—was that his goddamn blanket?!

“Oh c’mon-” Shoko rolls her eyes. “Don’t act so surprised, I see the bouquet in your hands. You obviously planned something of the sort.”

He forgot about that damn thing. Nearly dropping those flowers in his haste to hide it behind his broad back, though there was really no use - he simply couldn’t stand Shoko’s laughing eyes any longer. “Th-this was for Yuji.”

“I see the smaller bouquet in the bag.” She points out. Almost empathetically, Shoko sighs. “You really aren’t slick, Kento.”

“This isn’t- this is just—” But the longer she smirks at him, the less he seems to have an answer. Soon enough, he’s bringing out that massive bouquet from behind him and letting his friend fawn over the thing.

“Wow, she’s really going to love this-”

“It’s called being nice, by the way!” Nanami answers, belatedly.

The look Shoko gives him is enough to make him click his mouth shut.

“I hope you know that I bought one to give you tomorrow…I’m throwing it out now.” Because no matter how much Nanami denied it, today was about love. Parental. Platonic. Even the love that he could never have. As Shoko rummages through the bag with an excited squeak, he drawls on. “Where even is she, by the way? What have you done to her?”

“Hm? Oh, Yuji called me this morning. Thank you for these, by the way.” Shoko stands with a beautiful yellow rose and purple zinnia bouquet in her arms. She sniffs at the sweet fragrance- “Yuji called me asking whether he should leave out cookies for Cupid just like he does with Santa. It seems he wanted Cupid to bring us a wedding, and guess what? I wanted Cupid to bring us a wedding.” Her face breaks out into a smug smile - the one he’s only seen when she used to cheat through biochemistry exams without anyone ever knowing. “So we called up your darling nanny and let her know that her schedule’s changed for today- then Yuji and I did a little sprucing up in here.”

“Sprucing up…”

She turns around to admire her work, “Honestly, Kento, if I knew that you didn’t have a romantic bone in your body then I’d have dissected you-‘

“Papa!”

Spared from hearing whatever gory plans that Shoko had for him by the excited yelp of his son—Nanami hears his footsteps before he sees him. He feels the impact before he sees him.

Yuji’s running down the hallway and launching himself at his father at full speed- “Papa, you’re home!”

“That I am, sunshine.” Nanami smiles down at the boy. “How was your day? I have something for you.”

“For me?” Tufts of pink curls bobbing as he cocks his head, following his father’s movements as Nanami crouches down and reaches into one of the bags. Before breaking out into the most brilliant smile at the sight of the flowers. “Woah- they’re so pretty—! Thank you.”

Crushing the bouquet of pink carnations and hydrangea to his chest, he wraps his arms around Nanami’s shoulders and hugs him.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, papa. I’ve got a gift for you, too-” Breaking away, Yuji’s throwing an arm out towards the room at large. “Auntie Shoko said this was how you bring Cupid! And we also tried to make those heart-shaped cupcakes you make, but it tasted like tar so…”

“That’s perfectly alright, Yuji.” He swipes at a smear of icing still on the boy’s face. “We can learn together on my next day off, right?”

“Right!” Yuji jumps in excitement. “And after your wedding today-‘

“Yuji…”

“And right on time.” Shoko’s voice permeates the room- right alongside the sharp fwip! of the window shutters closing. She turns away from the glass and pushes off from her station. “C’mon Yuji, now the plan is a-go! Go! Go!”

“Aye-aye!” With a chubby hand raised in salute—Yuji wastes no time giving his father a final hug. “Bye bye, papa.”

“Wha-” Nanami looks at the harried duo in confusion. “What are you two-”

“And don’t mess this up, Kento.” Shoko gives him a stern wave. 

Before she clasps Yuji’s hand and helps the boy match her longer stride- the two of them speed-walk in the direction of the door.

“Yeah- don’t mess this up, papa!”

“Uh, where are you taking my son?” Nanami stalks after them. Not letting the front door close behind them, he watches the two figures - bouquets and all - race down the hallway. How strange that they didn’t take the usual route - instead opting for the one that would let them leave through the back entrance. “Hello? Shoko-”

“Don’t mess this up!”

He has half the mind to chase after them - it’s not that he doesn’t trust Shoko with his son, but really, what on Earth could they be getting up to?! Especially so late past Yuji’s bedtime. At the very least, maybe he could run up to them and let Shoko know of his son’s Spiderman ritual before eating and the tendency he has to bite fingers when-

“Nanami-san?”

Your voice.

Was he dreaming?

And yet—Nanami snaps his head towards the source of the noise so fast that it almost causes whiplash. He breathes your name out in a whisper.

So this is what Shoko meant about-

“Am I hallucinating or is that Shoko-san and Yuji running down the fire escape?” You point at something beyond his line of vision, though Nanami doesn’t need to look to know that it is, in fact, Shoko and Yuji running down the fire escape.

“I think I’m hallucinating, to be quite honest.” He mutters. Because surely there was no conceivable world in which he would see you like this - standing outside his door on Valentine’s Day, looking all gorgeous as you always did - and dare to bring out the bouquet that he had bought for you. Also was that…was that a bit of make-up you’d dabbed on? More so than usual?

His eyes linger on the glitter beside your eyes.

The thought that it might’ve been because it’s today - that it might’ve been because you’d been as nervous about seeing him today as he was about seeing you - makes him jolt. He’d been smoothing his hair down the entire subway ride home thinking of you.

Thirty-something years and he’s acting like a teenager in puppy love.

Certainly no conceivable world…

And yet…he does. He reaches behind him to bring out that prideful bouquet: 520 flower-heads that blushed themselves silly over not being even half as beautiful as you.

“For you.” He croaks out. Awkwardly pushing up his glasses. 

“Oh.” Your jaw drops, and the bouquet weighs heavy in your hands. In nothing but a whisper- “It’s beautiful, Nanami-san.”

Red, red roses.

.

.

.

Nanami explained the situation before he invited you in…somewhat.

Certainly nothing about how badly he’d been teased because of this little scheme or the ah- confession of feelings. Heavens, no! Nanami himself wasn’t entirely sure whether he’d go along with their plan…

As far as you knew, Shoko and Yuji thought it’d be a funny little prank to ‘invite Cupid’ into his apartment this Valentine’s Day. Leaving the two of you alone in an apartment draped in candles and roses like the most deviant of mistresses. 

And Nanami knew you knew. You knew that Nanami knew.

The implications were there for all to see.

It was there in the way his face burned red, and Nanami couldn’t meet your eyes- “I’m aware of how it looks. And it seems that my son still holds the idea that erm…either way, ahem, I completely understand if you would much rather go home. Please do know that this will not affect your job in any way whatsoever- in fact, I will cover your fee double tonight-”

“Nanami-san.” You’d interrupted him. Cocking your head with a slight smile, “May I come in?”

From there he’d been the perfect gentleman - not that he wasn’t usually. Even in the months since you’d worked for him, you’d come to find that Nanami was the type of man that opened doors for you, that pushed your chair for you, that covered your taxi fare home, that escorted you as far as he could by foot either way.

But now…oh, right now he was putting any Prince Charming to shame.

He had his hand hoverin’ right above your waist- leading you inside to the romantic dinner table. Here, he’d pushed your chair for you—and before you could even thank him, Nanami had his hands helping you out of your coat. 

He insisted on plating for you.

You couldn’t help but gawk at the way his biceps pushed against his work button-up, flexing slightly as Nanami stood beside the table and neatly cut your bread - one he’d baked just this morning, according to him. Shoko had clearly rummaged through his kitchen well…

Conversation was somewhat breathless at first- the both of you waiting for the other to go first. The both of you anticipating every single word.

Wondering what every single word meant.

But after the first two courses - Shoko certainly hadn’t burned these - the both of you were talking freely. Moving on from the more polite topics, like your day, his day, that were really a front for something more - speaking with Nanami was always so easy, he was the best listener you’ve had in a while—to dessert: strawberry shortcake cupcakes and a confession that slips from your lips. 

“Y’know- this is the first Valentine’s Day I’m spending like this.” You giggle, wiping off the cream that sticks to your lips. Nanami watches with half-lidded eyes as you devour the delicacy he’d baked this morning.

He swirls his half-empty wine glass. Certainly not enough to get the man tipsy - Nanami was quite the heavy drinker when he wanted to be - but enough to make him ask. “Oh? Tell me more, my dear.”

The candlelight catches on the rim of his glasses, encasing his eyes in an intense glow. You think he looks even more handsome like this- “Sorry. It’s probably going to sound stupid to someone more experienced…”

“There is nothing you’d say that would be stupid.” He pushes his glasses further up his sharp nose. Fingers crossing before him, he leans in. “Continue, my dear.”

“It’s just- I haven’t had many serious relationships, is what.” You admit. And he looks at you so intently- “With life and university, it’s hard to find the time—if I was looking anyways, that is.” You sputter, before he can ask anything about whether the nanny job was cutting into your time. “The selection in my department isn’t great at all.”

“So…” Nanami runs the tip of his finger ‘round that glass cup. The thin rim. The gaping mouth. “-no lil’ boyfriend, then?”

“No boyfriend.” You echo. And perhaps being drunk on the proximity is what makes you blurt out- “But if I did have one, I think I’d like someone older—”

He quirks a brow in interest, “Older?”

You nod. Crossing your arms in slight embarrassment, “Boys my age will ask you out and then go halfsies just because you don’t want to go home with them.”

“Mhmm.” Nanami’s lip curls in distaste.

“I just want someone to like me for me- y’know? Just to sit across from me like this and really talk to me for once.”

“Has no boy ever wined and dined you like this?” He asks.

“No.” You admit, somewhat sheepishly.

“Has no boy ever bought you flowers?”

“No.” You cast a look at the 520 roses - now housed in a large vase that Nanami had pulled out from one of his cabinets.

“No…” You breathe.

He inches forwards, forwards, forwards—and wipes at a remnant of sweet, sweet cream on your lips. That roughened edge of Nanami’s thumb grazes the edge of your mouth. “Has no boy ever been sweet to you like this?” He catches the look in your eyes. And his own lower. “Has no boy ever treated you like a man would, my dear?”

The older man doesn’t hesitate in reaching his thumb back up to his mouth- and lickin’ off the cream. “Has no boy ever eaten you out like this?”

“No-”

Your lips upon his are even sweeter than the cupcakes he’s baked- and he’s lavishin’ his tongue over your mouth gently. Opening you up so wide—

And even that isn’t enough.

Nanami’s thumb finds permanent purchase at the end of your chin, letting his own sinful tongue slip inside. In and out. In and out. In and out.

Almost as if he was fucking you with it-

You’re not sure how long Nanami’s kissing you like this. 

Maybe minutes. Maybe hours.

You’ve lost track of time- and the only thing you know is that your head feels dizzy. Your knees were growing weak in your seat. A slick line of spittle glides down the side of your mouth- and Nanami reaches a thumb up to smeeear it.

“My dear…” He murmurs, his deep baritone taking on a husky tone. Hot breath fans across your face, heating you up from the inside out.

You’re raising your face to meet his molten gaze- and it almost shocked you just how handsome Nanami Kento is. Noble features chiselled in the soft candlelight. His mouth slightly kiss-swollen. Blond hair unravelling from his usual neat style n’ cascading across his forehead. 

He reaches closer to you and siiinks his teeth into your lower lip, “Have you ever been kissed like that- here before?”

You squirm. Shaking your head-

But he tugs on your pretty maw. “Tell me in words, honey.”

Gulping as one of his rugged hands snakes down your middle. A carnal jolt echoes through your body once Nanami presses the edge of his palm between your skirt- your legs. “I…” You think of all the disappointing dates you’ve been on before, of all the disappointing hands in places almost forgettable. “Not like that, Nanami-san.”

“Now now—when we fuck, call me Kento.” He mutters, finally making his way ‘round the table. Before you know it, he’s looming over you- and two of his strong hands rest underneath your legs. “Upsy daisy.” 

He’s lifting you uuuuuup, up, up to splay out across the dinner table.

Lifting you like you weighed nothing.

Pushing aside first and foremost those plates and flowers- you’re being rolled with your back against the tabletop, and Nanami’s honed hips pinning you down. A dimly-lit halo of light behind his golden hair. He wastes no time before throwing both legs of yours on top of his shoulders- “M’gonna teach you how a real man eats pussy.”

You nod-

“First lesson. Big girls use their words.” 

And your jaw drops—

“K-Kento—”

You’re not sure whether the primal noise escapes you because of his words, his tone, or because of the utterly desperate way that Nanami Kento falls to his knees. Thud!

Loud enough that it should hurt- but you don’t think it even registers in Nanami’s frenzied brain right now. 

Not when he was pushing up that damn sinful skirt of yours- extra tight tonight. Nanami wasn’t a fool - he knew what you were doing. Not when he was starin’ deeply at your pussy, all wet through your panties and throbbing so hard he could practically see it.

Count it.

One-two-three. 

Not when he was worshipping you as close as a man possibly could—“Not quite the answer I was looking for.” Then the next thing you’re hearing is a sudden thwack! The next thing you’re feeling are the five pointed tips of Nanami’s thick fingers, smacking down on top of your pussy. “But I’ll let it slide since s’your first time being eaten out all properly, mhm?”

“Mhm.” You nod.

“What was that?” Those mean fingertips of his raise again.

“Yes, Kento.” You’re hurrying to answer. And just as a little reward, Nanami smears his digits atop your swollen folds. 

“That’s more like it.” The glaze of your sweetened slick lets out the loudest squelch, and you squirm as he’s tuggin’ aside your panties with a single index. “Are you ready, my dear?”

“Yes-”

“Are you excited, my dear?”

“Yes-”

“Good girl.”

Let the feast begin, he’s thinking. And Nanami Kento doesn’t wait. Nanami Kento doesn’t tease n’ toy. Nanami Kento doesn’t even swivel his fingertips around your wet hole more than a few times to check how soaked you are before he’s taking what he wants—he doesn’t have the damn time for anything else. 

He’d been starving for far too long.

And the closer n’ closer he gets to your pussy, the more his mouth waters. 

Nanami’s left drooling at the mere sight of your wet fuckin’ hole—you swear you could hear his stomach start to growl. Fuck.

He gulps.

He takes a single sniff. 

With a sudden lurch - like he couldn’t hold it back any longer - he leans up and shoves his face nose-deep between your legs.

His tongue swiping your hole, jaw hittin’ the end of your slit.

He’s curving that wet, wet muscle against your walls. Just so soft that it feels as if you’re melting around him- “Fuck.” It escapes him- harsh and cracking. A primal groan at the back of his throat - one he doesn’t seem to even realize himself. “Fuck.”

You tremble at the tone.

Because there was something dark in it. Something almost…predatory.

This was nothing like the calm, composed Nanami Kento that you were used to - absolutely nothing. This was…you didn’t even have words for it.

So fiercely needy that it shoots electricity up your spine- Nanami’s tongue was ravenous. He was holding onto both sides of your legs and- and correction…he wasn’t merely holding onto them. Nanami Kento was using all his strength to push them as faaaar apart as they would go before suffocating himself on your sopping wet cunt.

Such strong hands. Furious tongue.

No matter how much you’re bucking your hips- he just keeps fucking his muscle between your wet pussylips like the last thing on his mind was breathing. 

Swooping his head even deeper and munching for more. More. More, more, more. 

Nanami crushes his mouth against your pussylips - so deep that you start to wonder whether his oral area would start to bruise—

And it’s only because of that broken call of his name that Nanami flinches. He freezes. He puffs out a murky breath. As if only now registering where he was, what he was doing, and just what his name was at the moment-

He’s breaking free from your pussy with an echoing slurp!

“K-Kento…” You’re looking on in pure worry at the dazed man - his eyes were still glazed, and there was something almost…feral about his demeanour still. Though he seemed to be much calmer than before, “Kento, are you okay to contin-”

“I am.” His voice comes out strong. Firm. Like he’s never been more sure of anything in his entire life. 

Nanami lets out a few stilted breaths- running a hand through his now-unruly hair. The glisten of a silver streak in it. “I am. I just…it’s been a long time…forever, actually, since I’ve tasted anything so delicious.” Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “I hope you can forgive this old man for getting a little carried away, my dear.”

Was he really that ruined from but a single taste of your cunt?

He stares down so long and deeeep at your quivering pussy. That cute hole peeking out from your panties—“She’s just so…sweet.”

And though he was speaking to you, Nanami looks down lovingly between your legs. 

Now that he didn’t have his lips all plastered to your folds- he was rubbin’ his right thumb vertically down your slit.

Pressing down on the cute button of your clit-

“Awww did I scare you, honey? I sure hope I didn’t.” Honey, because you were just too sweet sizzlin’ on his tastebuds. Guiding one of your hands to grip his scalp, “Forgive me. When it gets like that, don’t be afraid to pull me- to use me, alright?”

“Kento, you don’t have to-”

“Consider it my second lesson.”

You squirm, “B-but don’t they say to…respect your elders, Kento?”

And you’re just too cute—he can’t help but flatten his palm down and spank your pussylips once more. It makes so many beads of slippery slick spray out from your cunt n’ glue against that chin of his. “You certainly can.” He hums, thoughtful. “But just remember- I won’t be respecting this pussy, honey.”

“I see.” You gape.

And while speaking to you - while speaking to you - Nanami lavishes out lil’ kitten licks between your folds. Lick. Lick. “I bet this pretty pussy’s never been eaten out like that before, huh?” He continues. Merely peeking up at you through blond lashes to confirm- and you can only nod—

Yet another spank sputtering down on your wet crevice.

“Words.” Nanami reminds. 

Hiccuping, “Yes, please. All those boys usually just like- graze my clit and that’s all.”

He nods. He continues, voice nothing but deep murmurs that sets your entire body aflame - and it’s as though the more syllables he’s uttering, the harder n’ harder he rubs on your clit. “Awww poor girl. I just can’t help but think of how long this pussy has been wasted on- haaah, boys who didn’t know how to handle her.”

“Too- too long.”

Lovingly—almost drunkenly, he’s pressing a direct peck against your hole. The tip of his tongue just lightly slipping out and teasing your entrance- Nanami’s free hand grips onto your thigh as if holding himself back. “Mmmm, that’s what I thought.” He murmurs. “And how long has she waited to be eaten out by a man who isn’t afraid to get a little…sloppy?” 

“Too long-”

At this, he chuckles. “And as for my last question-” Not even smooching anymore- he’s just smeeeeaering his puffy lips along your slit. More rapid. More hungry. “Actually- take this as my third lesson.”

You’re scrambling up onto your elbows. “Yes?”

“Can you settle down like a good girl?”

Whatever that means…you aren’t given the time to figure out. Because before you know it, Nanami purses his lips and plants a wad of spittle that hits your cunt with a wet splat!

Only making you even wetter for him to gape his jaw open- “Fuck.” For him to swirl his ridged tip around and around your snug entrance until it left your mind all dizzy, it makes your cunt streeeeetch incredibly once he digs the tip of his tongue inside. Thoroughly.

It’s almost as if he was splitting you apart on the thickness of his tongue. 

Expanding and contracting. Expanding and contracting. 

The stretch is so incredible that it leaves your mind searing

“Settle down. Settle doooown-” He’s humming in a low tone. Whenever Nanami feels you squirmin’ or clenching just a tad too hard, he’s making note of that particular spot and bashing it all in again. Thick muscle reaching in and out for your deepest depths until your tight hole can’t take it anymore- until you’re screaming for mercy. 

“Oh fuh-fuuuuck—” You’re arching straight off the table, the fabric clinging onto your skin briefly. Only for a few split-seconds before one of Nanami’s hands fastens onto your hips, pushing you right back down where you came from.

“What did I say?” He wasn’t even using much of his strength- you were just so easy for him to move ‘round. Especially when he has his mouth attached to you in a way that was so ravenous—

Ruined. 

“Settle. Fucking. Down, girl.” 

Pinning you to the flat surface and letting his gaped maw run wiiiiiiild. It’s making you realize that he wasn’t going feral in the beginning- he was merely holding back.

Both in strength and in pure carnal hunger.

No matter how badly you were craving to grind down restlessly on his face for hours- Nanami keeps you on a tight leash. He keeps you restrained on the table n’ getting only what’s given. Pushing down. Maneuvering his greedy mouth. No matter how much you wanted to plant your feet down and take control - Nanami Kento really does know what’s best.

“Failing the third lesson already, huh?”

Tears stream down your cheeks without you even realizing. “S-sorry, I didn’t-”

“Shhhhh shh shh. No need for an apology, honey.” He opens his swollen lips up wider n’ latches them around your clit for a few seconds. “My poor girl’s just overstimulated because she’s getting her pussy eaten out, huh? This pretty pussy’s just excited?”

“Yes-”

“That’s why your Kento’s here.” Nanami hums, his cold glasses frames hit the front of your cunt and you flinch. Making the man push them up his nosebridge with a chuckle—“And m’gonna take care of this pussy, baby.”

The way that Nanami looks dead-set into your widened peripherals as he says this makes your heart race.

Spitting a few more times down your dribbling slit. He was teeeeasing you before reaching his right hand down n’ smearing your pussylips open with two fingers- the rugged tips of his index n’ middle streeetching your damp hole apart. Just so goddamn thick. “Fourth lesson: sometimes…fingers feel even better.”

“O-ohhh—” Your voice breaks out in carnal trills. Trying to bend your spine but then holding yourself back-

He was thrashing inside a few more sloppy strokes - swiping, slurping, scrapin’ every inch of your velvety walls. Anywhere you could think of, his thickened digits were pumping in. 

At one point, he flicks his glistening tongue outside for you to take in his sheer size. “Size does matter when it comes to pleasing this needy pussy, alright? Don’t let any fuckin’ boy convince you otherwise.”

You mewl, “I-I wouldn’t need another boy if I just had you, Kento…”

And there’s something in his tone that sounds ecstatic- “Mmm, good girl.” Showing you a demonstration of his previous statement by mazin’ away straight towards your g-spot. And you could feel yourself shaking- all those times you had to worry about whether a guy could manage to make you cum?

Nanami was eatin’ you out like his one and only purpose in life was to make you cum.

“Always teasing me.” He scoffs out in a scalding breath. Raggedly running his mouth- his tongue. “Always riling me up with those pretty looks and that- damn-” Pushing and pushing onto your g-spot so hard that it makes you sob out of pleasure. “-mouth.”

Your jaw drops. “I l-love it—fuck.” 

Practically on instinct, you’re gliding a hand down your tummy- where you could feel butterflies. They only seemed to grow even harder n’ rougher with his textured tongue…“I think I can feel you right- ngh, here.”

“S’that so? You love it, huh? I can feel this pussy growin’ so wet—She’s so fucking tight, bet she’s never been fingered properly before.” As if anticipating your next moves, he’s digging his fingers deeper against your flesh. Leaving little crescent marks.

Whatever rational part of you is left begins to wonder just why he might have to pin you down even harder.

“And for my fifth lesson, honey.”

You’re waiting with baited breath as he presses a few more heated-open-mouthed kisses. Nanami’s luscious tongue reaching spots inside you that you weren’t even sure you had - ones undiscovered—

And it’s the only warning you get before the puckered, pretty flaps of his mouth opens up your pussylips. Just past where your folds were all swollen n’ tight- it was quite a squeeze even when it was just his tongue. Just his fingers.

So to have both Nanami’s fingers and his tongue inside?

It was sheer madness.

It was driving you stupid with his touch in but a single stroke- the jostling feeling of his wet muscle and his digits pressing against your walls and each other. Your walls. Each other. Your walls. Each other. Your channel was so snug that even the slightest movements made it feel as though you were bulging from the inside.

Pressing in. Fucking in.

In and in, and in—

“A real man is- haaah, always hungry.” Alternating between slipping his tastebuds into your hole, and then fishing himself back out—not to breathe. No, not even close. He was merely roverin’ his mouth over to spank down on your clit. “A real man would never get tired of his lover, my dear.”

“Kento—ngh.” You’re echoing out. 

Your moans bang against the four corners of the room and straight into his ears- the prettiest song he’s ever heard. “See how good you feel? S’only my duty to you, my dear.” 

“But Kento-”

Mouth makin’ out with your cunt as if he’d gone mad, too.

“Kento, don’t you need to breathe-”

“Fifth lesson. Who cares about breathing?”

He gasps out in interruption. Tongue swiping at a constant rhythm - it was difficult to get a single syllable out when all Nanami wanted to do was stick himself to your cunt and lick and lick and lick—

Both of you are realizing at the same time that he’d miscounted.

“For my fifth…” And he sounded maddened, too. Octaves higher. Tone breathy. There was a feral sort of hunger in his eyes that shook you to your core- “Sixth…?” As if he was just so pussydrunk that it was causing his brain to melt, acting on pure carnal instinct. “For my sixth lesson, honey. This old man’s mind is a little foggy, you see…”

You don’t get the chance to answer.

Because with that, Nanami only accelerates. First those fingertips of his were shoved all the way in and making your walls twitch with every hard prod—thud-thud-thudding way. Then he was smoochin’ over that same bruised spot with his slithering tongue, just swipin’ up where you were most sensitive. 

Before draaaaagging all the way out and about to suck on your clit. Throbbing so hard that he managed to time his lil’ bites to each pulse.

It was a dual sensation that left you driven mad. Absolutely mad.

Rubbin’ his fingers absolutely raw on those knotted bundles of nerves- 

You buck.

You get hit with a sudden spank.

“Mmmm—do you think you deserved that, my dear?” He asks. Too cute- the more he eats you out, the more he’s twitching in his pants. 

You sob, but you’re nodding. “Y-yes…”

Another spank.

“What was that?”

“Yes, Kento.”

“Good girl.” And honestly you could feeeel that sultry stretch of his grin—gently dabbing his tongue over your clit. Nanami Kento might’ve been a stern man, but he certainly wasn’t merciless. “But forget one more time and I’ll make you call me ‘sir’.”

You couldn’t deny the way that made your cunt twitch…

“Seventh and final lesson.” Nanami pronounces, his mouth slicked with so many layers of your sap that it gleamed—he wore those dangles of goopy syrup like a medallion. “When I make you cum- hah, you better reward me by cumming aaaaaall inside my mouth, honey. Or my cock.”

Your throat was utterly parched by now. And the only thing you could do was rasp out- “U-understood, Kento…”

Soon enough, he was babbling out hot breaths of something you could barely even understand- though each promise only sounded more ravenous than the last. 

Mouth glued to your cunt. Nails digging into your skin. Rougher than you ever thought was possible before, he’s sucklin’ at your clit and pounding his fingers into you so hard that it looked like nothing but a blur—

Nanami counts one, two, three rapid clenches of your pussy walls-

Before you’re throwing your head back and absolutely shattering into your high because of him.

Your toes curling. Your throat ragged raw.

His textured tastebuds are swipin’ across every bead of slick you were dripping out. Dripping. Every bead of slick. All over your puffy pussylips. All between them till he meets your hole- even all the way up your inner thighs.

He wasn’t letting a single bit go to waste.

Not even as that translucent sap dribbles down the sides of his mouth and ends up splashin’ right up to his handsome cheekbones-

The pleasure washes over you twofold - both with your orgasm and the way that Nanami was eloooongating your orgasm. Both his fingers and his mouth were working overtime to press into each peak of your high. “O-oh—” Thighs trembling on top of his shoulders- you don’t know when, but they end up locked so tight around his head. “It feels s-so good.”

Each tiny curve of his fingers made your body twitch in the aftershocks. “Extra lesson- fuck back into me.”

“Wh-what?”

It takes you a significant amount of effort to even open your eyes - let alone start to swerve your body uuup n’ down. And yet you’re doing it anyway—moaning as you ride all of Nanami’s handsome features in looooong, sloppy drags. “Fuh-fuck, like this?”

And he was just loving it.

“Mhmmm.” He gurgles out. Cracking one eye open, “Exactly. I know this is the best fuckin’ orgasm you’ve ever experienced, my dear.”

He wasn’t even being cocky - and you usually would’ve called him out on it - this was just plain true. “I-it is-”

“I know this pretty pussy wants it again, my dear.”

You can only nod.

“I know I surely want to eat her again, my dear.”

And nod and and nod as he’s fucking you through even the tiniest peaks and spasms—the surplus of bliss making your veins bubble. Burst. Bulldoze your senses as you’re practically vibrating with the sheer amount of pleasure that runs through them.

There seems to be a hazy aura covering your vision as you finally ride through your entire high.

Struggling up onto your elbows once more-

“Stay down—”

“Yes…?” Your eyes widen at Nanami’s strict order. He leaves a final slurping kiss at your clit before he stands onto his feet. Slightly swaying—

There was a glaze over his eyes. There was your slick coating all the way from his lower face, and puddling dooown to form a dark patch on his button-up. There were the short, panted breaths he was emanating - like a predator honed in on his prey - the longer he looked at you splayed out on the messy table.

Nanami Kento almost looked drunk - and not on the dinner, not even on the sparse wine. 

He was completely n’ utterly ruined on nothing other than your pussy.

He lunges towards you-

“Fuck, Kento—” You’re squealing at the rugged hands that tear through your clothes as easily as if they were butter. Shirt and bra easily landing on the carpeted floor- and your skirt was to follow before you even realized.

You’re just about to help Nanami shuffle you out of your panties - hips raising to facilitate it - before he takes another look at you. One long, hard look. And his hands leave your body as though that was enough-

He wanted your panties on.

Nothing but a sopping wet mess twisted ‘round your hips. Evidence of his depravity. 

“I want these off then.” You’re reaching up to tug on one of Nanami’s sleeves. He was still partly in his office clothes: button-up, formal pants, tie. And those sleeves of his had been pushed up to his elbows during your dinner, leaving you struggling not to gawk at the older man’s forearms. Strong. Slightly veined. Slightly tanned. 

He was just so attractive that it made you squirm. 

Nanami looks down at himself and lets out a hoarse—“Oh…right.” Like he’d been so caught up in you that he hadn’t even realized he was still clothed.

Pop!

Pop!

Pop!

Pop!

Those neat white buttons end up flinging to the ground- useless against his sheer desperation. Nanami wastes no time before tearing through his layers, ripping them off. Fabric pools onto the carpet below. His belt buckle clangs as it hits the ground.

Gentlemen couldn’t deny such a thing when their lover’s asking so nicely, could they? At least Nanami couldn’t-

And fuck…

Now, you always assumed that Nanami Kento was the kind of guy to be well-built. It was naturally in the way he moved, the way he stood, in the broadness of his shoulders.

But you’d never in your wildest dreams could have imagined that he’d be this chiselled. This toned.

You have to stop yourself from ogling him—you have to. But you can’t help it.

Not when Nanami’s body was ridged and curved in muscle- almost Herculean in nature. He had pecs that looked lush enough for you to bite - and you could already feel your mouth start to water - with a faint coating of golden and silver hair scattered across his skin. Wide shoulders. Trim waist.

His biceps flexin’ as he moves onto the buttons of his pants.

Lined through the middle with similar golden hair that drove down, down, down…

But you think your favorite part of him wasn’t the muscles or the hardness- no. Though they were certainly a nice addition, what made your pussy throb the most was just how…thick Nanami Kento was.

It was evident that Nanami was the type of person who liked hitting the gym often- but then again, it was evident that Nanami was the type of person who didn’t have the time to be hitting the gym often.

As often as he used to, at least.

And you? You were loving it.

Because all those muscles of his were naturally-formed. But with all the years of responsibilities as a father which meant his body was comforted by a layer of slight chub, big. Strong. Suddenly, you understood why ‘dad-bods’ were all the craze on social media—because you - for one - couldn’t help but linger your eyes at the sight of the softness to his shape. The slight roundness to his belly, abs barely peaking through.

“My dear…”

“Kento.”

He presses a thumb against the hemline of his trousers-

And then he’s letting you see him—all of him. 

From his V-shaped waist to his meaty thighs.

So thick. So strong.

You just wanted to be crushed between them.

And right down to the furious cock that stood upright and erect between them. Such a bulbous red tip, streaming with never-ending ribbons of pre. Such a thickened shaft that made you swallow—he had so many veins zipping down either side of him. You think he was about nine or so inches- perhaps on the lower end.

Before you’d realized it, you’d been reaching your hand between his legs- only for Nanami to stop you in your tracks.

“K-Kento…”

His thick fingers intertwine with yours and press your hand down on the tabletop. “Honey, you don’t have to reciprocate.” The older man stares deeply into your eyes- “You don’t owe me anything. I ate your pretty pussy out because I’ve been starving for her.”

“But I still want to.” You insist.

“Mmmm, how about after then?” He reaches his free hand up n’ thumbs across your bottom lip. “As much as I want to paint these beautiful lips with my cum, there’s another pair who’ve been waiting patiently for their turn…”

You shiver, “Erm- Kento, you should know that…this is my first time.”

He pauses. “Excuse me, my dear?”

“I’ve never done it before.” Looking up at him through your tear-draped lashes. “You’ll be my first.”

The thought takes a second to register in the older man’s sex-hazed mind. That animalistic part of him being overpowered by the rational.

Your first time.

Your first time.

Your first time.

He was about to take the virginity of that cute lil’ nanny he’s had his eye on for so long. “Honey, are you su-”

“Yes.”

Nanami almost moans at the sheer eagerness in your voice - your eyes were shining, and your legs locked tighter around him. “Well…” The man starts, dipping two thumbs down to your glistening pussy and spreading your folds wide open. He takes a good look at your entrance in comparison to the thickness of his cock, “Brace yourself then, my dear. S’gonna be a tight fuckin’ fit.”

In a split-second, he’s jerking his hips closer and smoochin’ your naked cunt with his cock. His rounded tip spreading your pussylips. His shaft sliding between your slit and massaging you with his veins.

Nanami was so goddamn hard that it looked painful.

And what better way to alleviate the pain than by pushing his pretty lil nanny’s legs apart and shoving his cock between them? Aching and needy for you.

Nanami was big enough to fuck you stupid with just his tip.

And he knows it, too. Having such a hard time completely fittin’ in his crowned girth, he just barely fucks the top of his shaft inside before groaning. Taking a peek at the way you were squirming below him, sobbing below him. Absolutely ruined- “Shit, honey.” Cupping his hilt with his left hand- Shit, honey, can you recite the lessons for me?”

You’re wobbling up onto your elbows, “Recite them?”

He can only nod. “Just—oh.” Cut off with the slightest sliiiiide between your sweet, swollen pussylips- he’s only managing to nudge the rounded edge of his length. “Just recite them. You have them memorized f’me like a good girl, yeah?”

“Yes-” Nodding frantically. “Yes, Kento-”

And that cute obedience of yours is enough to make him smile- tap-tap-tappin’ away the curve of his tip down there. For absolutely no other reason than wanting to. “Good.” He reels his hips back. “Then say it f’me, my dear.” And then forwards- “Say it while I fuck you.”

And the only thing you can fucking do is to babble out those words- the very same ones that’d been drilled into you. “The first lesson is that—fuck.” All the while Nanami’s probin’ tip enters your hole in a sudden thrust. “-th-that big girls use their words.”

Nanami grunts, voice shot. “Goooood good good- keep breathing now.” Hand clawing down your front—feeling for himself as he pumps inside. Tiiiight fucking fit, like he said. He almost wonders whether it would go in- “And then?”

“The second…” 

But it’s almost impossible to remember- to even think with those rapidfire haaaard hammers of his cock. 

That curved tip of his shaft kept pushing iiiin with the most lecherous squelches, drawing more n’ more sweetened slick out of you with every single thrust. That stretch was just incredible- it was making you see white. Just the first few inches of his pretty pink cock squeezing inside and pushing in and in and in—

Thwack!

Those rugged fingertips of his come spanking back down on your cunt - this time, however, they fit between your pussylips and latch onto your clit. And they stay there. He’s tuggin’ on that poor nub a few times just to bring you back to your senses- “Awww, you didn’t think you’d go unpunished for that—-did you, my dear?”

“I-I—no.” Because tears stream down your cheeks, and Nanami still isn’t letting go. He’s flopping out his tongue and lapping at that salty flavor-

“Then continue.” Humming at the taste of you. Fitting and fitting and—trying to stretch your elastic hole out to take him. It’s the first time you’ve ever felt something like this. “You’re doing so good. Keep going for Kento.”

Thwack!

“Keep talking, honey.”

“Second lesson-” Unable to do anything but arch your back, you’re being met with Nanami’s soft chest. Those pecs. The thundering of his heartbeat. It’s enough to make your mouth already water—“t-to…use you.”

He leans in, “What was that, my dear? Old man, you know…”

“To use you-”

“To not be afraid to use me.” He corrects. 

And it’s the last thing you hear before both Nanami’s hands snake down to grab your ankles- restraining them. Tightening them.

He’s bending you easily in half.

Legs on top of his shoulders. Thighs against thighs.

Pushing you all the way back into a mating press.

A fucking mating press.

Of course the hot DILF that you’re nannying for puts you in a mating press. Of fucking course!

And it’s only causing you to become wetter than you’ve ever been in your entire life- your head falls back against the table surface. Thud! An action that makes the older man on top of you reach behind n’ cushion the back of your scalp. “Easy there, my dear. Eeeeeasy.” His left palm lightly massages your sweaty head. 

“K-Kento-” Through your tears.

“Easy there- third lesson, remember?” 

“To s-settle down…”

“That’s my girl.” Nanami hums, head threatening to tip backwards at the sensations of your quivering cunt. It’s impossible to keep his mind when you were gushing out so much slick that it coats his shaft and leaves his ballsack all drenched.

And if he was this gone, then where did that leave you? 

Well, you were just babbling away the pretty syllables of his lessons. “The f-fourth lesson is that fingers feel better.” Hips bucking upwards. “The fifth is that real men are hungry—” Eyes scrunching with tears. That large circumference of his were pushing into tender spots n’ crevices that you didn’t even know you had - it felt as though your poor pussy was being split by him. Push after push.

After probe after probe.

Just animalistically trying to fit inside—

“The sixth- the sixth-”

“Breathe, honey.” Those smoky words of his scorch your face, as if Nanami himself was burning from the inside out. And there truly was a feverish tint to his words—to his actions, fuckin’ away sloppily between your pussylips. Slurp after slurp. “Breeeeeeathe- c’mon do it with me.” 

Conducting you through these relaxation exercises for a few strokes.

Listening to his own advice - that fourth lesson - his right hand lifts off of your thighs to roll over your throbbing clit. Just so neglected by now, it makes you see white to have him massaging that sweet spot all slow and sensual.

“The sixth lesson is…who cares about breathing?”

“Mhmmm.”

A guttural tone that sent vibrations straight from your drippin’ core and up to your brain. Only growing more muddled by the inch- “And oh! The extra.” As all good students do, you’re deciding to show a demonstration. How sinful that this sort of demonstration is you balancing your hips on the table n’ choosing to bounce right up to meet Nanami’s rutting hits. His pounces. “To- ngh, fuck back into you.”

“Oh, good girl- this old man almost forgot that one.” Sleazily, he’s pushing his glasses up his nosebridge.

Staring at the lewd sight below of you griiiiinding your hips up into his. It was just so messy because your lips were jittery with pleasure.

His happy trail rubs carnally on top of your clit- and it sends you into a frenzy—

“F-fuck that was-”

“Shhhh shh shh, easy.”

You waddle your ankles from their perch atop his shoulders. “Yes, I know-” Hissing out—“I’m breathing, Kento. I’m listening to what you’re saying, promise…”

“Good girl. Now inhale.” Of course, you can’t help but take a looooong gasp of the heady air thick in the dining room - the candles were scented like roses. “And-”

“And…?”

And Nanami doesn’t finish his sentence. He doesn’t bother telling you to exhale before his fat, throbbing cock is fucking every volume of air from your lungs. In this mating press, he could hit each angle even deeper than before - and that meant you’re feeling his thick circumference bruise all the way against your womb.

Your cervix.

Bottomed all the way out and Nanami was pummeling his length away as if there was even more, more, more of him left. A hint of something metallic hits his nostrils—and he can’t hold back the victorious chuckle that leaves him. He’s done it. “Continue.”

“I—what-” Struggling to catch your breath. “Oh my fucking-”

“Continue.”

“Who cares about breathing-”

A sixth lesson that he was fully demonstrating.

He really was mean.

He really was merciless.

Because he was fucking you into the dinner table like a damn animal—and the thing is Nanami wasn’t even going at a particularly fast pace in order to leave you speechless. He wasn’t merely half-thrusting away and hoping that you liked it. He wasn’t just tracin’ his cockhead down the sweet spots at the back of your pussy.

Nanami Kento was holding you down tight in his mating press. He has one hand gripping onto the back of your scalp - such a gentle gesture turned so sinful - and another crushin’ the fatness of his palm to your pussy.

Purposefully, the older man pushes the edge of his palm down on your clit. Harder. Harder. Harder.

And he was drilling into you harder by the second, too. Harder didn’t mean faster.

Just draaaagging every inch of his vein-covered shaft down your slick channel - he’s making sure that you can feel every single curve n’ ridge down his cock. He’s making sure that he massages your insides so thoroughly that it feels as though you’re being molded to his cock. Nothing more. Nothing less.

You swear you’re seeing the pearly gates spread wide open before your very eyes. “O-oh my god-” Reaching your hands up, Nanami lowers his strong body further into yours. Pushing you down against the dinner table, the pressure from all sides is too much that you have to claaaw down his perfect back. “Kento, what—fuck. I didn’t know that it could feel like this-”

And deep inside, you can feel his thickened tip flinching. Directly at your g-spot. “Mhm?”

“Yeah-” Voice shattering in your throat as his circumference swells just a few millimeters thicker inside of you. He was growing even bigger, harder, just by the sensations of your slurping cunt. “I-it just feels so good- I’ve never been fucked like this.”

“Honey…” Nanami’s mean yet pointed tone makes you stare up at him. “You’ve never been fucked before me.‘

“Oh.”

“Your virginity is mine.”

“Oh.”

Just that gone on his cock that you’d almost forgotten - even the realization itself seems to take up too much storage inside your already-muddled brain. Now filled with only the thought of him n’ his achingly hot cock—pouring out bucketloads of precum until it sloshed around inside.

Inside and inside.

Stirring ‘round and ‘round with his probin’ cockhead. He pushes deep into spots that you hadn’t even known existed, let alone could be smooched away by his pulsating shaft. He constantly whacks your g-spot until it feels numb.

Enough to render you speechless- 

“—graduated.”

And that makes your eyes blink open. “Wh-what?” 

“Oh, honey…” Nanami plants a loving peck on your lips- until that peck turns into a rugged bite. “What world are you on, hm? S’my cock that good? Awww, my poor girl—here.” Nanami’s perspired forehead sticks against yours. This time, he’s staring deeply into your eyes as he pronounces the words, “You’ve graduated.”

You cock your head in confusion, “From university?”

He chuckles, fine lines popping out from the edges of his eyes. You’re noticing that his glasses have slightly fogged up by now- “No, silly girl. From my lessons.”

“Oh…” Pouting, “But I liked your lessons, Kento.”

“Mmmm, you’ll like this one even more.” Dipping down- Nanami presses his stern lips right to the shell of your left ear. Whispering as if a secret shared by no one but the two of you in this world, “Remember how Yuji mentioned he wanted a little brother…”

A jolt goes through your body- as does the realization.

“If you’d like then-”

“Yes.” You know it might be rash. But looking at him like this - looking at Nanami Kento so deep in the pangs and plunges of his carnal pleasure - how could you deny what you want? “Yes—”

The blond man’s breaths start to grow heavier, eyes slightly widened. For the first time in the longest time, he actually looks like his usually-sensible self. Those molten eyes of his search yours for an answer- “Honey, really think this throu-”

“I did.” You’re insisting. And if that wasn’t enough, he could feel your wobbly ankles surge with the strength to lock ‘round his neck. “Inside, Kento.”

Nanami’s mouth moves noiselessly with an answer, but his cock does all the swelling. So painfully hard that you were sure it was tougher than rocks-

And there’s only one thing left for you to do. “Inside…sir.”

If he was any less of a gentleman - of a man, really - then Nanami would’ve cum inside you then and there. At least in his mind—which was focused solely on digging his heels into the carpet, solely on gritting his teeth and holding his damn cock back from pouring out those wads of cum like he knew he wanted to.

Was on the verge of doing.

He was instead collapsing the entirety of his weight upon your body- feeling your limbs strain, hearing your joints pop. But not even that noise crackling in his eardrums is enough to get the man to slow down.

Now he was just fucking you sloppy—grunts filtering between his grit canines by the minute. By the thrust. “The first to fuck you.” And what a rare occasion: to hear the ever-eloquent Nanami Kento stutter. “I’ll be the first to breed you too, my dear.”

“Oh—fuck, yes.” Your entire body shivers in excitement. You could feel the pit of pleasure starting to grow in your stomach. 

“I’ll be the first to give this pretty cunt a taste of cum.” And you could hardly believe that such a sinful sentence was leaving the confines of his mouth—“She’s probably so thirsty by now, no? I’ll be the first to quench that thirst, my dear, just you wait-” Pinching your clit between the fingers on his right hand once more. “-mama.”

Really, if you were calling him ‘sir’ then it was only fair for him to call you by that pretty nickname. Something primal awakens inside of you-

“I’ll be the first one to stuff this pretty pussy-” Nanami gurgles out, eyes locking in on your stomach. That was where his rounded tip occasionally made an appearance by bulging through your flesh n’ skin as he fucked inside you. “-with so much of my cum that you’ll be bloated.”

You gasp hysterically, “Yes-” So turned on that it almost hurt - you wanted him. Now. “Yes, yes, yes—”

“I’ll be the first to make you feel me in here- for weeks. Months.” Thrust after thrust. Pinch after pinch. It was incredible how much he was stimulating you to tears- “I’ll be the first where—when you walk down the street, everyone will know that I fucked you. Everyone will know that- that this pretty pussy is mine, that I’m the one fuckin’ her and stuffing her and—and giving her my cum every night.”

Rolling a sweet, sweet heart on top of your clit.

“They’ll know that I’m the one fuckin’ the cute, sweet lil’ nanny—all of them. The professors. Those parents at pick-up. Your friends. My friends.” He chuckles darkly. And he doesn’t care who’d be scandalized. “Wanna know why, my honey?”

“Wh-why—” You sob out.

And he leans in to whisper in your ear- “Because I’ll be the one making you a momma.”

Until you’re all round and glowing with his seed.

Until you’re so full of him that you can’t take anymore.

Until you’re so stuffed that you wouldn’t be able to hide it- he hopes you’re walking ‘round with his cum between your legs for weeks.

It’s taking only that and a single puuuush against your g-spot for you to topple off the edge of your high. Bliss pumping through your veins in waves, you couldn’t escape from the constant throb and ebb of it. Dimming the edges of your vision. Making the lights seem brighter.

Again and again and again—

He’s probin’ inside that swollen cockhead to push you through the bouts of your pleasure. In the time he’s had you like this, Nanami’s already mapped out where every single one of your sweetest spots where- and first he’ll thwack! his hand upon your clit. Then he’ll move onto your tender bruised spots at the rim, then his cock delves deeper until he’s hitting your g-spot—then again and again he’s knockin’ on your womb.

Filling it with so much of his cum.

“Breathe.” Your orgasm hits you so hard that you have to manually control your breathing- and Nanami’s right beside you. Walking you through every step, every exhale and inhale. “Breathe iiiiiin.”

You’re sucking in a breath. “Fuck-”

And it’s just then that he’s emptying out a particularly powerful wave of his own euphoria. Balls clenching as his ribbony white cum leaks near your cervix- with your breath sucked in, you’re only feeling the sensations even stronger. “And out.”

Panting out with a whine. “Fuuuuck- f-feels so good.”

Too good, almost.

You never knew it could feel like this to have someone pourin’ out all their lecherous sap inside of you- the thick layers clinging onto either side of your walls. There’s so much of it - so much volume that you wondered just how he managed to keep it all stuffed inside - frothing out and forming a circle of white ‘round Nanami’s hilt. Gleaming with every thrust. Puddling out and sticking your thighs together— 

Head throwing slightly back, though still peeking at you through his lashes. “Honey…”

Nanami’s gruff tone makes you jump. “Yes?” Still slightly twitching from the aftershocks of your incredible high.

He stares into your eyes with a slight smile. Something unreadable. “You forgot the seventh lesson earlier.”

The seventh…?

Oh.

Oh.

Fuck.

It’s with a sudden cold thrill that you’re registering what he said- and remembering the mistake you’d made during your recitations earlier. “I-it was to cum all over-”

“That’s quite alright, my dear. No need to tell me now.” Nanami smiles the sweetest smile that makes your cunt start to throb - his eyes shuttered closed, his lips pecking yours. His cock shovels a long, hard thrust inside you—“But I will have to rescind your graduation.”

You gape, “What, why-”

“Until you’re completely and fully stuffed by me.” He grumbles out the rest of his statement. His condition. 

Hands rovering all over your body, Nanami makes sure that every slight tingle of your high has passed before he’s pulling out of you with a loud sluuuuurp! Immediately scooping you up into a princess carry n’ walking in the direction of his bedroom.

It isn’t long before you find yourself draped over Nanami Kento’s large mattress - on all fours so that he can slip inside you with ease. Pumping away immediately- “Until you’re fuckin’ pregnant, consider that you’re still taking lessons.”

You’re sobbing into your newly-caught pillow. “Oh—oh fuck.”

To which Nanami leans over and snatches your neck into a fucking headlock- his strong biceps pushing against the sides of your throat. “Happy Valentine’s Day, my dear. When this is all done- fuck, m’gonna show you how much I love you.”

“I l-love you—” Feeling his rounded tip immediately pierce across your g-spot and towards your womb. Full. “-too.”

“Mmm, I love you more.” Watching as you shake and quiver. “We’ll get you something sweet after this, honey, don’t you worry.” He hums- before sneaking a look at the both of you through the mirror in his bedroom and chuckling. 

Ruined. Completely and utterly ruined.

“If we make it out of Valentine’s Day alive, that is.” 

Maybe Shoko could babysit Yuji a little longer?

“Papa’s gonna do his best to try for a second child, alright?”

.

.

.

Morning shed its sunlight like the clothes upon Nanami’s apartment floor.

A stream of white-gold Sun, the richness of the day, enters through his windows and splays out perfectly on the bed. It dapples light across his naked chest and leaves him stirring—

Valentine’s Day.

The dinner.

The table.

You. Being taken on the table.

Afterwards on this very bed, afterwards on the damn bedroom floor after he heard a snap coming from somewhere on the bed frame. He’d shovelled himself n’ his gooey white sap inside you until the Sun had risen—

And it’s enough to make him jerk upright in his bed.

Blankets falling around his waist, sleepy eyes scanning the room for any sign of you.

From here, he couldn’t see what’d been made of your clothes in the dining room- or your panties in his bedroom. But it was obvious that you weren’t here. If from your physical presence, then from the warmth you brought into his drafty Tokyo home.

Just to make sure, he casts several wide-eyed looks around the room - breath-still in case there was a single noise from the kitchen - and still…nothing. Absolutely nothing.

There’s a sinking feeling in his chest that he doesn’t want to make sense of.

Of course, what was he thinking? He’d said…those words to you last night- but just because you’d said them back didn’t mean it was real. It was probably in the heat of the moment, you’d probably snuck out before dawn broke so you didn’t have to face him. You’d probably woken up disgusted.

He didn’t blame you - there were no promises between the two of you. And even if there had been, he knows he can’t find it in himself to get angry at you.

If anything - if you chose to quit after this - he supposes he’ll have to start looking for a nanny again. Something in Nanami’s chest twists, and he reaches up to rub the spot where his heart was.

He wouldn’t mind the long and tedious process if it still led him back to you. He wouldn’t mind the long and tedious process if it meant you were there with him - not as a nanny, just yourself being you.

It was a cold morning.

And Nanami Kento was clenching his sheets, just about to throw his legs over the side of the bed and get out—he needed to put away his clothes anyways before Shoko came with Yuji. What was the time anyway? It was his off-day today, and maybe he could take Yuji out to the park to take his mind off of-

And it’s then that several things happen at once.

Nanami’s eyes catch the face of the clock on his bedside cabinet: 12:48PM.

Nanami’s jaw drops at just how late it is.

Nanami snatches his phone off of the cabinet and makes to race outside while calling Shoko-

And he makes it about two frantic steps, too, before getting stopped by a sudden squeal of laughter. Loud and bubbling. Euphoric.

Of course, it was none other than his son. 

Echoing a short burst of laughter throughout the apartment- before abruptly cutting himself off with a pronounced ‘shhhhhh!’ It rings even louder than his laugh, and reaches Nanami’s ears alongside some words. “Sowwy! Yuji promises not to wake papa!”

And Nanami’s brows furrow, wondering whether Shoko had somehow managed to forge a key to his apartment and get in. Before out of nowhere—your voice is the one that answers him.

“S’alright, sunshine.” You’re using that nickname he always did. Sleepiness was still laced into your tone, and he could tell it hadn’t been long since you must’ve waddled away. 

Since you must’ve put away the clothes in the dining room, since you must’ve opened the door for Yuji - Nanami would hate to imagine the smug look on Shoko’s face then, but the surplus of texts from her were already doing the job. “Papa needs to be awake for breakfast-in-bed, doesn’t he?”

The smell of pancakes drifts through the bedroom door - along with Yuji’s answering call. “True…but what if papa won’t wake up?”

“Then we eat the pancakes.”

“Yes—” Yuji echoes, “Thank you, Cupid.”

“Hm?”

“Because Cupid made you n’ papa married, right?” But of course. It leaves you stunned for a few seconds, and Yuji obliviously chattering. “I’ve always wanted to keep you- papa, too. Even though I know he won’t say—can we keep you now, Ms. Nanny?”

Your voice sounds slightly thicker than before. “You can keep me as long as you want, Yuji.”

“Thank you, Cupid!”

Two evil cackles, and the sound of footsteps.

You’re opening the door with a flood of sunlight and a tray of pancakes in your hand. Yuji rushes in after you with a call of ‘good morning’ - and by the smile on your face…yeah.

Yeah, it really is a good morning.

He still doesn’t know how to explain to Yuji that the two of you aren’t married yet, however.

It’s in an hour that you finally break the news- but rush to assure the little boy before he bursts into tears, that he could ‘keep you’ as long as he wanted. And that the two of you were together—yes, together together. Nanami puts off answering Shoko (she ambushes him for gossip the very next day). 

It’s in a month that you start officially calling yourselves lovers - boyfriend and girlfriend, whatever it is. It seems like so much more than that, however. And so Nanami just settles for introducing you as his partner at those tedious work dinners.

It’s in a few more months that those work dinners become the last he’s attending. Because Nanami Kento quits that damn job, using everything he’s saved up to buy a little bakery and a house just a small ways off from the heart of the city - not quite the countryside as he once imagined, but this was good, too. It was still a manageable distance from your university and Yuji’s school, and yet so much bigger than the apartment.

It’s in a year that Nanami’s bakery is at the height of business - a figure that will only keep growing as the years pass by. Word spreads far and wide about those treats- and soon enough, he’s forced to fire extra hands and more part-timers than he ever thought would be needed. The little bakery grows into a big bakery, with time.

You couldn’t have been more happy to see those dark circles underneath his eyes cease for once, to see him pursue his dreams. Yuji couldn’t have been more happy to get all the sweet treats he could’ve ever wished for.

And now, Nanami could buy him all the car beds he could’ve ever wished for.

He also starts looking into wedding rings.

He still isn’t sure about a Spiderman-themed wedding, but he knows he’ll be baking the cake.

A/N. Hehehe that Nanami and the flowers scene was inspired by my father having a tradition to always buy me a bouquet as well today.

when he sees bigger sizes being praised online he figures they don't mean him. because his cock isn't just big, it's heavy, fat, swings when he walks, and takes up all the space in his boxers. he can't even find a sex doll for him to fuck that'll withstand his size. he's torn through all of them.

how is he ever going to be in a relationship?

when you started liking him, choso had forgotten all about the monstrosity in his underwear and got all caught up in your flirtations. he's never had someone as beautiful as you pay so much attention to him. you're one of yuji's friends from college that's staying at their house for the summer. you include him on your outings with yuji, get him little gifts you say reminded you of him, call him pretty and trace his tattoos with your hands... it all has his brain melting into goo. he only remembers that he's a freak when you're sat on the couch with him sitting on the floor between your legs during movie night, and you're scratching his scalp lightly with your fingertips.

the slow, repeated motion has his cock twitching and slowly rising in his pants, giving an especially hard throb when you tug his hair gently and squish your thighs around him. your hole is close enough to his nose for him to smell you, the sweet tangy scent making his mouth water.

he doesn't notice how bad it looks until his cock is fully stood up in his shorts, and he looks down, seeing the huge tent in his trousers and pushes his hands over it, stumbling to his feet. the quick, sudden movements making him dizzy. "i t-think i left my computer on upstairs" he mumbles, pushing down on his cock and praying you can't see how hard he is. you look up at him through long lashes and tilt your head, giving him a look that's disastrously similar to one you'd probably make if you sucked him off. it has him starting to leak an embarrassing amount.

with a yelp, he rushes upstairs before you can see the mess he's made of himself. he's so disoriented that he accidentally finds himself in the guest room, the one you're currently using, instead of his. and it's heaven. all your little trinkets everywhere, your scent stuck in the room... he dumps himself face first on the bed and buries his face into the pillow you're using, inhaling deeply and starting to hump the mattress through his shorts.

his cock is so swollen, even fatter and more sensitive than normal, and his hip rolls are slow and heavy as he grinds down onto the cushy duvet, inhaling large gusts of your shampoo and lotion from the pillow and imagining he's grinding on you instead. soft, sweet, pretty you. he's so obsessed with you. and you like him too, he knows it... how will he fit his cock in you when the time finally comes for him to fuck you?

"mngh... s-shit-" he groans into the pillow, strings of saliva coating it from his parted lips. he hasn't had feelings like this for another person for as long as he can remember, and imagining you being able to take all of him has his brain completely messed up.

choso pants your name and reaches down to cup his balls through his thin shorts, massaging the heavy mounds as more precum shoots out of his tip and leaks onto your mattress. he wonders if you've touched yourself on this bed too. maybe you touched yourself to him- "oh ff-fuck-" he chokes out, tearing his pants off and grinding his cock raw on your mattress, his fat cock now bare to the cool air of the room and to anyone that could walk in...

"choso, are you in my room? i've been looking for you everywhere! why have you been gone so long? yuji told me to come check on-"

you barge into the room unceremoniously and look at choso rubbing his huge dick on your bed, leaking cum everywhere out of his thick, flushed tip and sniffing your pillow.

"oh my gosh."

he tries to get up quickly, but he's so dazed and his orgasm was ruined and his poor cock hurts so much... he can't stop what he's doing, continuing to hump your bed while looking at you with huge, glossy eyes. "ne- hic- need help, please..." he begs, lips parted as a moan bubbles out of him.

you'd be completely grossed out if this were anyone else in the world sneaking into your room and getting off to you like this, but you know choso. he's so sweet and gentle, and if he got this desperate, you know he must've been wanting you for a long time. you pause by the door. "h-how do you want me to help you?"

he sniffles and pouts up at you. "i wanna do this to you instead..." he says, reaching a hand out for you.

slowly, you approach him, and he makes quick work of tugging you under him. he parts your legs and lines his bare cock up with your clothed hole, starting to grind down on you while panting and looking straight into your eyes.

you gasp at the pleasure erupting through you as he starts to grind down on you. the friction is delicious, and his weight on top of you allows for firmer pressure of your crotches against one another. from this angle, you can look down proper and see if his dick really was as big as it felt, and you gasp at the huge, thick flesh pressing into you.

choso whimpers and frantically kisses you to distract you from gaping at his cock. "please don't look at it," he moans against your mouth, enjoying how good you taste. somehow it's even better than you smell, and he can't resist sliding his tongue past your lips and tangling your tongue with his as he humps you. " 's big and ugly."

he never thought he'd be fortunate enough to do this, but here he is, grinding on and kissing his crush, and all he needed to do was ask. you're nearly distracted by kissing him, but you catch on to his words of insecurity and pull away, panting. "that's not- ah, true, choso. your cock is mnh! nice..."

he perks up, getting overexcited by your praise and moans and squirming. he grabs your hips and tugs off your bottoms, lifting you up and rubbing himself against your naked hole. "yeah?" he pants. "you like it? ugh, 'm so close..."

you mewl each time his wet tip notches partially in your hole then slips out, offering a momentary stretch before he returns to humping you. "c-can i cum on you?" he whines, rubbing you on his dick and maneuvering your body in his big hands. "please... i like you so much, i want you to smell like me-"

"y-yeah... f-fuck, you can put it in me if you want to, too." you gasp as he pushes just a little bit inside again and pulls out, returning to rubbing against you sloppily.

he whines, not wanting to reject your offer, but knowing he'll probably never fit inside you. the thought of stretching you out again and having you cry and squirm on his dick if he buried himself inside you all the way has his vision going white, and his eyes roll as he shoots hot ropes of cream all over your tummy, with you following right after.

as you cum together, choso bends down and kisses you hard once more, dumping his body on yours and practically slurping on your tongue. he's getting all excited again and doesnt notice you grabbing his half-hard cock at the base, starting to slowly push it inside you...

see more in my jjk masterlist

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Damn…

You’re turning around to look at him- and the utterly crestfallen look on Toji’s face makes you giggle. 

All of this might just be punishment for his forgetfulness, but you can’t deny that it sent a special zap of thrill down your spine to be the one making the Toji Fushiguro desperate like this.

Sauve. Cool. Collected.

Not even in the middle of his most impossible targets did he ever break a sweat- and yet, just your contemplative hum makes his breath hitch. Finger on your chin, wondering whether he deserved to have the sex ban taken off…or whether you wanted to make him grovel a little more.

His dark brows furrow, the tips of Toji’s ears burning. “The hell are ya laughing at?”

“Oh, nothing.” You’re humming, making your way over to the usual treadmills. “I’ll see you after the workout~”

“Huh? Wait-” He watches you leave. “What do you mean we’re working out separately now- wait—”

But alas, it was too late. 

And you’re left with a fuming Toji Fushiguro. The gym floor quakes a little as he immediately storms over to the weight-lifting section, bench pressing just about double his personal max in less than ten minutes.

And it was a challenge. Arms straining on the metal pole, veins popping out in his neck. They cascaded down the expanse of his chiselled chest, dipping even lower down where his tank top drenches in sweat, even lower…His sweat seeped through his skin-tight top- leaving a glistening sheen across those biceps. You swear they looked about the size of your head when pumped like this.

Toji’s expression was almost erotic - dark brows furrowed, skin slightly flushed. His features seemed locked between something of a scowl and a sweet pleasure.

Sweet, sweet pleasure.

You’re watching him through the mirrors covering the walls- and it seemed that you weren’t the only one. People couldn’t tear their eyes off of Toji.

Some of the older women. Some of the personal trainers.

Even a few couples- yes, both of them.

And it makes something in you…bubbles. Something at the pit of your stomach that you don’t quite know how to name- but sour, sour realization floods you just as soon as you’re taking in the gaggle of college students. They were ogling Toji - as most were - yet the only difference remained in the fact that they were pushing one of the girls towards him. Phone in hand.

No doubt to ask for his phone number.

And that’s when you’re stopping your machine.

Heading over to your boyfriend in an instant—you reach him just as soon as he’s setting his loaded barbell on the rack. Breath ragged. Chest heaving. Without thinking much of it, he’s tugging on the hemline of his tank top n’ wiping the sweat off of his face - revealing such defined abs that it makes your own mouth water.

He sure was a sight to see- but that didn’t mean that just anyone could gawk at him. 

And just because you imposed a sex ban, doesn’t mean that anyone could try and swoop in…

Toji’s green eyes flicker over to you instantly- “Eh? Come to tease me again-”

“I need to talk to you—” And without a second wasted, you’re holding onto one of Toji’s large wrists. Tugging him to his feet, you can’t help the pointed inflection in your voice as you continue- “-babe.”

The giggling group silences. 

In just a few minutes- you have your feet headed towards the empty locker rooms, your hands pushing Toji into the nearest stall you find. He’s letting such a sleazy smirk cover his face as he lets himself be fucking pushed inside—

Before the shower turns on and suddenly you’re being fucked against the blue-and-white tile. 

Your back against the wall. His roverin’ cockhead pounding into you at such a frenzied pace. Feverish. Furious.

Almost angry with your pussy for not lettin’ him feel you sooner.

He was just so biiiig and blushing that Toji manages to hit every spot- without even trying, he has you crying and mewling into his arms. Pushing in just long thrusts—“Fuck.” Toji whispers, hoarse tone barely audible over the rushing of the water. “Fuuuuuck, how I missed my pretty girl.”

You throw your arms around his shoulders. “M-missed you, too.” He was ruttin’ into you so hard that the heels of your feet were being cleanly lifted off of the tiled floors - and Toji himself was holding you up. With just a single hand on your waist.

One more between your legs n’ flicking your clit fervently—

Such a sinful grin spreads across Toji’s face. “Oh? Really?” Before the digits upon your clit start thumbing between your pussylips n’ spreading them all wiiiiiide open. Further and further open. He takes a gooood, long look at your drivelling hole—“Because I was talking about this pretty pussy right here.”

Your jaw drops.

“I-I—” Head dizzying with how fast he’s pinpointing every tiny spot with his tip. Hittin’ even the most hidden of crannies with his accurate, split-ended crown - over and over. Upturning those walls of yours and finding even more that you knew only he could reach—“I meant-” Fucking you from the flared tip of his shaft and down, down, dooooown to the girth of his base—decorated with so many curls of black that scraaatch at your core. “I mean…ngh, fuck.”

“My pussy-” He echoes out. “M-my pussy…” And Toji Fushiguro had the audacity to cock his head, his shaggy black bangs swaying. “What were you talking about, mama?”

Enough to leave you speechless- and to leave him grinning at his success. “That’s not the answer to that question, girl.”

“I know, but-”

“There are no buts.” Toji scoffs, rolling his verdant eyes. 

And before you know it, he’s scooping you up into his arms- feet off the floor, ankles knotting around his waist. Toji pulls away from the tile then - who the hell said he needed the support of some damn wall to hold his pretty girl up? He’s merely tuggin’ you to him like a koala, stuck against his chiselled front—pounding up even harder n’ haaaaarder. Dragging his thick, vein-covered cock even loooonger down your channel.

“Sh-shit—” Throwing your head back. Gravity is making you slip n’ slide down Toji’s incredible body, your front pressing up against his abs. All you can really do is hold onto dear life.

You claw your fingers down his buff shoulders - hard enough to draw blood - and Toji merely fucking chuckles. “Toji, it feels so good—”

“I know.” He answers cockily- before craning his head down and aiming a dollop of spittle between your legs. Strikin’ your pussy dead-on. Even though he didn’t really need it - the water n’ your slickness was enough to let Toji pummel in at such a raaaapid pace. He just liked to see how you’re squirming at the sensation, “And who wanted a fucking- sex ban, again?”

The water rushed down his hair and obscured his sight- and whatever you could see from between his long black bangs was just…fuck. The sheer feral need in his eyes made you shiver. “It was m-”

“Oh, wait.” Toji hums in wonderment. Eyes settling down on you, as if just seeing you for the first time. “Do you know who it was? It was you—wasn’t it, mama?”

“Y-yes-”

“Oh yeah? Thought you could go without my cock for that long, did ya?” Toji snickers, pinching your clit. It’s hard enough to make you bounce n’ buck your treacly cunt back down his shaft— “Heh—look at ya. Didn’t even last three weeks- hah, honestly. Have some more discipline, girl.”

“You’re telling me to have more discipline.” You gasp. “And who forgot Valentine’s Day-”

“Eeeeeasy there, mama.” He trundles out. Voice low. Almost dangerous. Another pinch on your clit- “Don’t make me put you under a sex ban.”

Your lips part, “You wouldn’t…”

“I would.”

His globular tip swipes down your cervix, leaving what feels to be a permanent mark. Slides of his gooey precum—“And now…” Toji leans in to whisper his next few words in your ear, scorching hot pants against the cool water. “-you’re gonna cum.”

Shivers run down your spine.

Toji continues in his guttural tone. “You’re gonna cum around my cock, and when you do you’re gonna scream so loud that it’ll alert the gym.” Already hearing the grin in his words- “And then m’gonna cum inside you. You won’t wash it out until we get home - you’re gonna walk out there with my cum dripping down your legs.” Toji leaves a final piiiinch on your clit. “And after this, you’re never puttin’ me under one of those damn bans ever again. Understood?”

“U-understood.”

“Good girl.”

.

.

.

By the time he’s finished with you - way, waaaaay past your allotted time - you’re adjusting your uncomfortable leggings before going out. Feeling the sploshin’ of Toji’s gooey white cum inside of you, it’s a damn quest to try and walk properly.

And Toji doesn’t even try to leave the locker room at different times in order to avoid suspicion. He’s sauntering out proudly and throwing an arm over your shoulders, tugging you to his side.

Giving the most shit-eating grin at those other bastards that stare at him in envy.

You wonder out loud how you’re not banned from that gym yet.

Toji takes that as a challenge.

♡ NANAMI KENTO - 18th FEB. at 7:46PM

“Papa, you forgot something!” Itadori Yuji squeaks out as he’s walking up the daycare steps. Spider-Man back-pack tightened with four different straps around his chubby body, his light-up shoes illuminating every step of the way.

Everyone knew when Yuji arrived at his classroom—the students because of his totally awesome shoes, the parents because of…his father.

Nanami Kento stood tall, stoic and composed as the sea of parents dropping off their kids parted for him. Blond hair slicked back immaculately. Glasses sharp and polished.

His silhouette drew eyes - whether one was conscious of it or not - though his own merely settled down upon his son. Crinkling slightly in concern, “Forget? Did you forget your lunchbox again, Yuji?”

The pink-haired boy shakes his head.

The older man hums, “Then did you forget your extra clothes?”

He shakes his head.

“Your football?”

He shakes his head.

“My goodbye hug?”

“No, papa—” And honestly, Nanami had no idea that a four-year-old could sound so exasperated with someone else. Yuji sighs and shakes his head in a way the man knew he picked up from him- “You forgot it’s Valentine’s Day!”

Oh.

Nanami’s lips part, and he sweeps a glance around the classroom corridors - looking as if love threw up inside it. Pink fairy lights and streamers. Heart-shaped designs. So there was a reason everything seemed a little…brighter than usual today, and- wait.

Wait, that explained the special heart-shaped pancakes you’d made for him. The twinkle in your eye. The rather lengthy pawing n’ kissing in the privacy of your bedroom.

Oh.

He intakes a sharp breath, “I didn’t wish my love—” Nanami looks at his pink-haired little traitor. “Why didn’t you tell me, sunshine? I should’ve wished your momma as soon as the sun rose- oh, and I need to buy roses. Then the gifts—wait, didn’t she say she wanted-”

“Papa…”

Nanami snaps out of it immediately- then straight into something new. “Did your momma seem mad, Yuji?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugs, “Momma told me not to tell you.”

Oh, you were definitely mad…

“She also said she was gonna teach you a lesson when you get home- it was funny.”

Oh.

The boy shuffles. “Papa, can I go now?”

.

.

.

Lo and behold, that was how Nanami Kento found himself suffering under…a sex ban. Ever since the 14th of February, you’d forbidden your handsome husband from touching you, fucking you, making you cum—even kisses were chaste.

And though you had to admit that your stoic husband kept it together quite well, you say the way his tie got just a little looser n’ looser every day. 

The way he’d linger his eyes on you too long. The way he’d take a longer time during showers.

No doubt fucking his fist to the thought of you.

And…you’re almost embarrassed to admit it, but it takes just four days for you to get impatient. 

Yes, you.

Ogling how his toned body would fill out those button-ups of his, how he only seemed to be getting more handsome by the day. 

Nanami had taken up a tradition of buying you a bouquet every single day to make up for Valentine’s Day - and it’s the night of the 18th when you finally just snap-

“F-fuck—ngh.” Just dragging him to your shared bedroom and sitting him down on the bed- you just barely tug off his tight work pants. Just enough to take his thick tip out. Bracing yourself before bouncin’ your hips down and taking his girthy tip in whole- 

Your back arches, toes curling.

The most lecherous whine leaves you—almost as lecherous as the sloppy sluuurp! of his honed cockhead pressing between your pussylips. Such an incredible carnal stretch that you’ve missed so much, “Fuck, it feels so good.” You gasp. “I’ve missed you s’much.”

“Shiiiit—” His bouquet drops from his hands. Red rose petals on the carpeted floor now- Nanami’s deep voice had taken on a breathy lilt, “Shit, momma-”

“I’m s-still mad at you.” You’re huffing down at him. “But my- ngh, pussy’s missed you soooo much—”

“I know, darling. I know.” His forehead lines with a trickle of sweat. Nanami’s eyes fall half-lidded as he feels himself get swallowed up deeper n’ deeeeper inside you. 

With the most damp sluuuuurping noises. Just so cute - it’s like you were gobbling him up.

Two of his hands clasp at your unsteady ankles, bending them to his will ‘round his toned waist. Before you can say anything in response, he uses the leverage to fuck a good strike at your core. All the way from tip to hilt. And as you’re shrilling out, he murmurs. “This fat fuckin’ cock missed your pussy, too.”

“R-really?” Though you don’t even need to ask - you could feel the way his bulbous tip throb-throb-throbbed all the way deeply inside you.

Nanami’s blond hair shuffles as he nods. “Missed you sooooo fucking much-” Almost too dirty to fall from the gentleman’s mouth. “Feel how much harder I am—?” Dragging his vein-decorated shaft aaaaaall down your sopping wet walls, pushing them apart. “Feel how much- fuck, bigger m’getting?” The way each pulsation only seemed to make him swell, his round flared tip growing even wider. It’s the perfect structure to scrape every sweet spot- and Nanami knew just where his wife’s favorite areas were. “Feel how hungry I am for you?”

You gape, “Hungry?”

And when he responds, there’s something utterly shattered in his tone. “Yes—” Breath gusting out in a scorching breeze- pants damp, canines pricking at your neck. Your husband sinks his teeth into that tender skin at your throat, “Fucking famished for this pussy.”

And he’s fucking you just like it, too.

Pourin’ out wads of pre into every nook n’ crevice. Twitching his bulbous cockhead against even the tiniest of nerves inside- he jerks his hips up a mile a minute. Utterly pounding into the back of your pussy— 

Until it was nothing but a gooey, battered mess. Slick with all the translucent sap he was emptying out- 

“Missed you so much.” He husks out against your clammy skin. Holding you tighter n’ tighter to his sculptured pecs, the more he’s honing out direct thwacks! inside you. Just four days without this perfect pussy and he’s a man gone. “Missed you- fuck, missed you so much—”

“B-but you always seemed unbothered.” Huffin’ down at him, your lips twist into a pretty pout- one that he’s reaching up and biting. “I thought it was just me that- ngh, missed you like this.”

“Oh, my love.” The sheer force of his thrusts was enough that you find yourself clawing onto his broad shoulders. To help you balance, Nanami loops his strong forearms around the small of your back- tugging you to him. “I thought about this pussy every single day that I didn’t have her.”

And that’s not all…as if to prove his point, the blond-haired man reaches down one hand and tugs on your perked clit—

It was just swollen and throbbing for attention- and he gives it all that you wanted. Rolling the calloused pad of his thumb right over it, up and down. Long swipes. Slight circles. Edging the tip of it between your wet crevice- in just a few seconds, you swear you’re starting to feel Nanami write out things on top of your overstimulated nub.

What you swear were swirls and loops.

And you recognized Nanami Kento’s handwriting- hell, you’d been married to the guy for years now! That neat, slanted script. So it doesn’t take you long - not until he punctuates a slight puuuuush that you assumed to be a dot - that it hits you like four semi-trucks at once.

Nanami was writing out ‘missed you’ on top of your cunt. 

Over and over again.

So many times that you’re starting to feel a bit raw with pleasure.

You cling onto him for dear life, “And what did you think about?"

“What?” He breathes, brain too muddled.

Your delayed response. “And what did you think about- ngh, Kento?”

Nanami throws his head back and lets out a faint, grumbling whimper as you’re clenching around him - just as gone as you. These few days had rendered him extra, eeextra sensitive to even the slightest twitches and sensations of your cunt. He whispers out an answer that you can’t hear.

“What was that, baby?” Fluttering your lashes at him, leaning in close. 

A slight channel of slick n’ precum escapes from your wettened hole- and makes his breath hitch. He repeats.

“What was—”

He repeats it.

And this time, he’s pummelin’ straight into the veeeeery bottom of your gummy pussy with it. Swiping out his spot there-

“I thought about getting you pregnant.”

And Nanami’s fucking you like he’d rather die than not have you all round n’ glowing - plump with his child - by next Valentine’s Day. If he could get you pregnant tonight itself and make you a family of four by then—then that’s even better.

A stripe of his gooey white cum- “Let me make up for these four days, my love?”

.

.

.

Next Valentine’s Day, it’s the three of you that are dropping off Yuji at school- you, your husband, and your baby. Just a few months old but already matching the energy of her older brother.

Yuji skips up to the steps - just a year more and he’ll be in first grade already. How time passes. 

He announces in that bright voice of his, “You didn’t forget Valentine’s Day this year, papa.”

Nanami slightly blushes at the attention of the other parents around you two - at him, at you, at Yuji’s voice, and at the presence of your cute lil’ daughter. They looked torn between coming up to congratulate the two of you, and keeping their distance from a baby so young—Nanami was known to be a private man, after all. If it hadn’t been for Yuji’s excited announcements, the daycare might not have ever known of the newest addition to your family. 

His hair. Your eyes.

“That’s right, sunshine.” Nanami pats Yuji’s head of pink hair, “I won’t be forgetting any time soon.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - 3rd MARCH at 11:03PM

You weren’t going to last.

That’s right—you weren’t going to last.

That sex ban had been set on the 14th of February, once Geto Suguru - your ever-handsome leader of the Time Vessel Association - had deemed that his favorite little association member hadn’t…celebrated Valentine’s Day quite to his standards.

Though you had no idea what he was talking about- you’d planned everything out perfectly.

You’d spoiled him with a jasmine bouquet, he’d spoiled you with even more red roses.

You’d spoiled him with his favorite traditional Japanese breakfast, he’d spoiled you with your favorite (courtesy of the chefs in the Association, of course).

You’d wanted to ride him silly- he’d wanted to fuck you pregnant. See, that’s where the little miscommunication seemed to have happened - if you can even call it that. Because in the end you’d been pummeled with his thick, veiny cock—for but a total of two rounds before you’d exhausted yourself to sleep in his arms (it’d been a long day of planning, alright?)

But the thing is, Geto Suguru hadn’t wanted to go two rounds.

Geto Suguru had wanted to go…all night.

And you never fall asleep before the revered leader. Never. Was his cock really that boring to you? Did this even count as celebrating Valentine’s Day at all, then?

Geto Suguru was a ruthless ruler.

It was considered that you missed Valentine’s Day- yes, you missed it.

Thus, you were henceforth and until further notice- banned from having sex with the esteemed leader until you improved your stamina. Which was quite the unfair match-up - Geto had training in martial arts, in cursed energy, in reverse cursed energy. How were you supposed to compare?

He was fucking mean.

And to be quite honest, a part of you had the nagging feeling that Geto was simply riling you up for the fun of it…and you wouldn’t be surprised.

Which is why when you’d sucked up your pride n’ finally asked him to fuck you by March—he’d merely raised a dark brow. Sharp. Scouring. “And have you finally fixed that pitiful stamina of yours?” He’s spitting, “I do not wish to be insulted once more…”

“I h-have.” You’d claimed- alright so maybe you hadn’t worked on your stamina just like he’d said. But who was Geto Suguru to know?

His brow raises even higher.

He knew. He definitely, definitely knew. 

But to your utter surprise- Geto is tugging on the dark fabric of his robes. Beckoning you with a single look over to his futon, “Alright.” Clipped and chilling. “But I hope you know that I am not a merciful man, gorgeous.”

You’d never scrambled over to him faster.

Because when Geto Suguru fucked you- he fucked you.

Just like he hated you. In no time, he had your jittery legs on his shoulders n’ his rounded cockhead pushing between your pussylips. Just stretch-stretch-streeeetching out the first rim of your entrance before draggin’ away down that tight channel. 

The long-haired man tugs open all those cute lil’ crannies that you’ve missed being stimulated. Your back arching off of the ancient tatami as he folded you sooooo deep in half—ass cheeks barely touching the floor in this ruthless mating press he had you in.

Cock hitting the back of your pussy for hours. And hours.

And hours and hours.

“P-please—” You warble out in your shattered tone, head throwing backwards. It’s hitting the surface behind you with a dull thud- and Geto merely huffs out a chuckle.

He raises his left hand - and for a second, you think he might just use it to cushion the back of your head. But instead…Geto uses it to clasp onto your poor, perspired neck and shoves you deeper against the floor-

“Don’t make me put ya into a headlock before you hurt yourself.” He snickers out, something animalistically breathy in his tone. Those thick fingertips of his squeeze either side of your neck- swervin’ his luscious tip inside even faster. “Because just know—”

And the hairs on the back of your neck raise once Geto Suguru leans into whisper.

“-that when I say all night long…” And for the nth time tonight, his slick n’ mazing tip drives you straight into your high. “-I mean all night long.”

“A-all night…” Your mouth hopelessly babbles.

Spit drivels down either side of your mouth—and Geto wastes no time before leaning down and lickin’ them away. “Keep it clean, gorgeous.” He murmurs against your lips, “M’gonna make a mess of you- hah, anyway the next time I cum inside. Again.”

His sweetened sap was already sploshin’ away inside of you- and even the tiniest jolts of his tip made him stir you from the inside. You drag a hand down your bloated-feeling front and whine, “Again?”

“Yes?” Geto asks, “Something the…matter—?”

And whatever your answer had been, it’s getting fucked back down your throat with his bludgeoning cock. Frenzied. Fast. Ferocious in the way he was claiming every single inch of space inside you. Nothing but a pinkish blur between those poor legs of yours- and you might not realize it in this state, but Geto himself had missed you.

How he’d missed the feeling of this velvety pussy. The way you’d open up just for him n’ seemed to mold your channel to his girth- and he was rather girthy, if he did say so himself. The way you’d clench ‘round him at even the tiniest sparks of pleasure-

And right now it’s as if you were holding him hostage.

Making him rut his hips wetly into yours - slick n’ cum spraaaying out of your hole and creating a mess in-between - again and again and again—

He tightens his restraint on your neck until you’re seeing stars- veins popping out from his hand. “Something-” Each word was punctuated by the most thorough gash of his swollen shaft, thudding against your gooey cervix. “-the- matter- gorgeous?”

“N-nothing—!” You babble out. “Nothing at all-”

“Then why’s this pretty pussy trying to- mmm, run away from me, hm?” He’s humming. 

And you snap your head down- it’s just then that you’re registering the ministrations of your hips. The way you lurch back just a bit when he’s hitting a spot just right, feet planted flatly on the mattress.

You bounced and swerved - almost as if you weren’t sure whether you wanted to run away or fuck back down for more, more, more. For the feeling of his smooth slippery tip reaching into your deepest depths- fuck, you’d almost forgotten how much he stretched you out.

And Geto doesn’t wait for an answer before he’s running you straight into another orgasm. And another.

“What? Can’t handle it?” Fingernails digging into your soft skin by now. “Can’t handle it?” His balls were still big n’ heavy with so many wads of cum yearning to be inside you- “Can’t handle it? Can’t handle it—? Speak up.”

“I can.” Gasping out in your botched tone. “I can- I can—”

“Then what?”

“It’s just-”

“I knew it.”

But that was a test, you see.

He didn’t want to know the answer - for now. He just wanted to know if you could match all the claims you uttered- if you could take him all night long like he’d promised.

Dawn wasn’t even close to breaking.

Your drenched cunt quivers. His own cock dribblin’ out a clingy line of slick—“I already toooooold you.” He replaces the hand on your stomach with his own, right palm cascading down the front. Geto pushes down on that cute lil’ bump he was fucking into you, “First, you miss Valentine’s Day-”

“But I didn’t-”

“Then you lie to me about improving your stamina-”

“Well…”

“If you can’t handle it, then don’t fuck me—”

“B-but-”

Shutting you up with a looong swab right near your throat. “Because how else m’I going to get you pregnant, gorgeous?”

And as you’re struggling to get out a single coherent sentence, Geto sighs. Dramatic.

“And here I thought you’d finally match my freak-” Something he’d learned from an audio Larue had been listening to, something he found quite amusing himself. “Here I thought you’d match my stamina-” He was probin’ his long shaft into the door to your womb. “Here I thought we’d finally get you pregnant for next year—”

“Y-you still can-” You whisper.

He leans in. “What was that?”

“You still- hck! can.” Increasing the volume of your tone, and it makes Geto’s pretty amethyst eyes widen. “Promise you still can. It’s still March.”

Geto hums in interest, “And about that concern you had before then…?”

“I was just worried…” Splaying out your hand on top of his- on top of your stomach. Slightly bloated with the sheer amount of gooey, glittering was struck to your walls—the slightest push is enough to make you trickle out between your legs. “-that it might not fit, Suguru.”

And something in him seems to twitch.

His cock seems to jolt—

You’re being fucked even deeper into your mating press before you know it. With Geto’s roverin’ cockhead flooding your bruised, battered insides in his syrupy sap - it leaves a carnal part of you feeling so satisfied.

The way he rests his weight on your lower half to stop you from moving around too much. 

“Oh, gorgeous…” Breathless. “I’ll just make it fit.”

.

.

.

It’s the very next day - even without formal confirmation - that Geto Suguru announces to his association the imminent birth of his heir. 

You find that announcement to come true soon enough.

♡ CHOSO KAMO - 14th FEB. at 9:12PM

To be quite honest, Choso Kamo didn’t know that there was a human…culture surrounding this date. He’d never heard of it before.

Imagine the half-curse’s surprise when he wakes up one day and the world seemed to be drenched in pink and red. Why were there hearts plastered upon every shop window he saw? Why did the population of couples somehow seem to double? Why did strangers insist upon trying to hand him chocolates as he walked down the street?

Wondering whether his last blood manipulation technique had left him feeling light-headed, Choso knew to seek the smartest person he knew for answers - you.

His beloved human girlfriend.

And when you’d given him a brief run-down of the semi-holiday—well, Choso Kamo was in tears. Why? Well, because no one told him that he’d just missed a perfectly fine opportunity to spoil you, of course!

All those candy shops he passed, all those plushie stores he ignored…

You’re telling him that he should’ve just dropped everything he was doing and bought out the whole store?! (No, you were not telling him that—but Choso was certainly thinking it). And he believed it, too. 

Which is why - as the self-dubbed Worst Boyfriend in The World - Choso demanded that you punish him with a sex ban. And when you’d refused, he’d punished himself with a sex ban.

“I-I don’t deserve it, baby.” He’d wrapped his arms around himself and turned away, as if the mere sight of you in your pajamas was enough to tempt him into breaking his ban. “I can’t even look at myself in the mirror after not knowing such a thing-”

“Choso, baby.” You’d interrupted him. “Shut up.”

He’d grown hard in his pants at that.

The first hour, it had been…do-able. Choso was still alive, he felt like he was still alive.

And his cock had remained behaved in his pants.

Three hours in and he was…shattering slightly at the edges. He’d disappeared into your underwear drawer when you weren’t looking- stealing one of your prettiest scraps of lace and fucking his first raw using it.

That had bated him.

At least until the fifth hour, when you’d asked to cuddle in bed. 

And Choso felt his cock jolt just a little in his pants- eagerly agreeing. Tightening. Though you should’ve known that something was off when he’d asked to be the big spoon this time (Choso Kamo was never the big spoon), but you didn’t think much of it…

Then had come the seventh hour—two hours into cuddling you. Two hours into having his raging hard erection pressed up against your ass- and he thought he was going a little insane.

He needed to distract himself- he needed to think of something else.

Anything.

And it’s then that those unfortunate pretty eyes of his had fallen upon the small wrapper upon your bedside cabinet. The small slab of sweetness.

The small piece of chocolate.

Without thinking much of it, Choso had reached out and torn it open - fingers jittery to do something. He’s popping both halves into his mouth.

“Wait-” You’re catching his action—only too late. “Cho, baby, that’s-”

But it was too late. He’d started feeling hot all over. Feverish. “Baby—what is this-”

“Aphrodisiac chocolate.” Sighing. “I’d bought it for us today - yes, one half for each - but since you put on that sex ban…”

It’s all the explanation that he fucking needs before he’s tearin’ at your poor pajama shorts. Furious. Feral. Before he’s leaving them in shatters- and leaving you with your voice lost in your throat, Choso’s angry red tip swivelling inside.

Just so wet with pre and rock-hard.

His sex ban had lasted seven hours.

The ridge of his cockhead was flared so widely, scrapin’ against all those tender spots inside you. It’s a lecherous sensation - enough to make you clench, enough to make you hold Choso’s fat cock hostage. Drool wettens Choso’s lips as you clench—“S-sex ban?”

Did that sound like a question? 

Because your poor boyfriend’s tone was wavering almost comically upwards towards the end- ruined. He punctuates it not with a question mark, but with a solid sopping thrust inwards. Shovelling just a few more of his inches in-

“Yes?” You pant out. It already feels as though he was pumping against the corner of your lungs. “Baby, wasn’t that what you said- oh.”

Yet another smooooch of his lengthy cock- it drives inside and presses on a tender spot you particularly like. “Sex ban?” Choso repeats. There’s an almost urgent look in his eyes, glazed and glittering with dark need. “No—”

And then he’s shaking his head fervently- for a mere few seconds before he glues his split-ended tip to the roof of your cunt. Bottoming-out. 

He collapses his muscular body onto you and pants-

“No, no.” Hips stuttering, though that doesn’t stop him from drilling into you like a maddened man. Lecherous, long strikes of his cock. “No, that can’t be—I’d never ban myself from something as h-heavenly as this pussy…”

“But you-” You’re starting to refute him.

Only for Choso to pump out a few direct hits to your cervix—groaning. “Because l-look how pretty she is takin’ my big cock.” He whispers, marveling at the way you clung onto him. Your sopping wet walls were lacquered in a good gleam of his precum, so tight that he almost thinks he wouldn’t fit- but you always do manage to surprise him. “Look how goooood she feels wrapped ‘round me- my pretty pussy.”

And then he’s fucking and fucking into you-

At an irregular pace - sloppy and staccato. It’s almost as if he couldn’t control just when and how his hips were moving, merely chasing that carnal instinct within him. That little voice that told him to bruise his achin’ hot cockhead at the base of your cunt, and then push n’ push n’ puuuuush as deep as it could go.

If he wasn’t knockin’ at your womb, then each thrust wasn’t worth it.

“Look how—” Head dipping into the crook of your neck, those clammy brown strands of his hair stick to your skin. He was blushin’ and shaking all over- “Look how good she ngh- feels when she’s being fucked by me? She’s been waiting for my cock all this time, riiiight?”

You’re unable to answer, merely twitching as Choso runs a finger down your slit. Pressing perfectly on the button of your clit.

“Of course, she is. Look how wet she is f’me—h-how could I ever deny her?” Baritone taking a shaky degree, wetness pouring out of him in waves and splatters. “Look how much she wants to- ngh.” 

And it’s then that Choso’s ruddied tip twitches daaaangerously.

You knew that your beloved boyfriend was the sensitive type- but to this extent? It’s almost as if being away from your pussy (for a few hours, yes, but even that was torture for Choso Kamo) had rendered him more sensitive than ever.

More susceptible to getting pussydrunk.

More susceptible to getting addicted to the slippery clench of your cunt. Those pretty walls that opened up for him—straight down to your even prettier womb.

He rubs the sides of his shaft rawly against your walls and whimpers- “L-look how much she wants to be filled up with my cum.”

And it’s then and there that Choso is talking himself into an orgasm. The textured sensations of your cunt. The wetness of your constant sap. The way you were looking up at him with teary eyes- his sheer length almost too much for you to handle.

And this was too much for him to handle. 

Choso merely reels his hips back a bit- before pummeling deepest into your depths and pourin’ out his cum with such a squeeeelch! A lecherous sound. The sound of his dewy wads of seed emptying out at the bottom of your pussy, filling you up from the inside out-

He’s throwing his body forwards and crushing you to him. “Baby, m’never gonna think of a sex ban ever again—” Murmuring wetly into your skin. You swear he was almost in tears- “Never. M’sorry, but I just don’t think I can handle it.”

“You really didn’t have to, Cho—” You reassure him.

And at that, he slips out just a few more beads of ivory cum. “N-ngh, don’t say that unless you want me to cum again.”

“Maybe I do.” Cocking your head up at the pretty boy- “That aphrodisiac is said to last five hours, after all.”

He shivers.

You throw your arms around his sweaty neck and pull him closer. “And it is still Valentine’s Day. Why don’t you make it up to me like this, Cho?”

He does end up cumming again.

.

.

.

The next day, Choso Kamo ends up buying out all the nearest candy shops and plushie stores. Some of them being delivered later on in the day, some of them being carried in dozens upon dozens of bags upon his two hands - not that he minds. He’d carry anything for you. To you.

After all, it’s not like you’ll be walking for about the next week…

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - 1st MARCH at 1:23PM

“Cheh—and it’s not like I’m upset about it, or anything!” The King’s fervent denials make the walls of the throne room trundle - almost as loud as Ryomen Sukuna’s voice, were his blatant lies. 

And yet, Uraume has long since learned to keep their mouth shut during times like this.

They sit poised before Sukuna, head bowed and expression of something contemplative. He might have four eyes, but he’ll never be able to tell how his right-hand follower was on the verge of laughter. Of tears from the sheer amount of laughter.

They might have to take a leave of absence after this.

And Sukuna - never the less oblivious - slams all four fists down on the armrest of his throne. Echoing in a hollow voice, “I just fail to understand why my…most tolerable human has refused to copulate with me these days. Although, even that should be understandable- if she wishes not to, then she wishes not to. I can understand that. But my question is why as of the 14th of the last moon cycle-” He sits upright in his seat, seething. “-she pretends that I do not even exist! Me—the King—!”

Uraume manages to disguise a laugh as a cough. “The 14th of the previous moon cycle, you say, Your Majesty?”

“Hm?” He grunts. “And what of it?”

“Well, then perhaps you should know that you missed a day that is quite important, Your Majesty.” They lightly sip their tea as the King’s interest piques- “In certain cultures, the 14th of the year’s second month is celebrated as the day of love. To express one’s affection for their lover, their family, and their friends.”

The King stays quiet. 

Uraume finishes their tea. “Tell me, Your Majesty—had you gifted your lover anything on the 14th?”

He sputters, “I-I—well, not quite but-”

“Did you wish prosperity upon her on the 14th?”

“No, but-”

“Did you act in a manner deemed nicer than your…usual demeanour?”

“No-”

“Nothing at all?”

“No.” Sukuna runs two hands down his rugged face, “Heavens…”

.

.

.

And it doesn’t take long for Ryomen Sukuna - over three weeks late - to finally shower you with gifts. Lavish, as a King should provide for his Queen.

In the most expensive silks in this land and the next few, too. In the most intricate little trinkets that he knew you’d love. In the most gorgeous jade twinkling in the moonlight. In the most sweet-smelling perfumes. The most sweet-tasting candies.

Everything and anything.

Though he personally believes that nothing could taste as sweet as you.

And he shall have a word or two later with you- something about telling him directly whenever you wanted something of him. But right now, he was faaar too busy sprawling you out flatly on your bed. Pressing two hands into the smooth mattress beside your head, as two of his swervin’ cockheads fucked you dizzy—

He was fucking that pout right off your lips.

“S’this pussy still furious?” Sukuna coos down mockingly at you- both sets of his lips twisting into the meanest grin. 

As you struggled to get out the words - past those thick, bludgeoning shafts - he merely leans down. Fluttering those pinkish lashes at you, Sukuna’s second mouth opens up wiiiiiiide—licking up the crevice of your pussy. “S’this pussy still angry at me for forgetting ah- Valentine’s Day? I don’t think sooo—”

And almost on cue, you’re sputterin’ out in a gooey mess of slick. It travels down your legs and gets lapped up by Sukuna’s monstrous tastebuds- “M-maybe I still am.”

He hums from the primal depths of his chest. “I know you are, woman.” Those crimson irises of his roll, a scoff scorching down your features. “But what about this pussy—”

You tighten your legs around his waist, “Sh-she is, too-”

“I beg to differ.” And just then, Sukuna spanks—! one hand down upon your throbbing clit. His other two hands clutch your ankles to throw you off balance- to stop you from bucking. His sleazy grin only seems to grow as he watches the thiiiiick sheen of slick at your inner thighs. “See? She loves me.”

“She’s mad at you-”

A hit at your gummy cervix—two. “She loves me-”

“She-”

And then snaking right down to your g-spot—you’re feeling both of his rugged, rounded tips massage your sweetest spot. He doesn’t even properly thrust for a few moments- the King ruts his hips back n’ forth. “See—?” Aiming to bruise his rock-hard lengths against the sides of your walls - your nerves - making you feel him from the tips of your toes to the top of your head. “She fuckin’ loves me~”

You don’t get to contradict what he’s saying.

You don’t even get to try- because at that very second, you’re throwing your head back and cumming. Unable to control the lightning bolts of white-hot pleasure that run down your spine—sensations of his rounded tips driving you wild.

Pummeling.

Shovelling in and out. In and out.

Probin’ against the areas you were most sensitive, emptying out wads of precum in sinful splats. “Th-that’s just not fair…” Voice hatching into the prettiest whines in your throat- it’s just what makes him arch his powerful hips and buck, buck, buck. 

More. More. More.

Sukuna rests two hands underneath your spine n’ aaaarches you even more for him. Like this, it’s easy enough to see where the rounded bumps of his monstrous cocks were hitting your cervix. Thud-thud-thud. “Fuh-fuuuuuck, Kuna.” And at the very same time, his lecherous tongue sticks out and drags up and down your dripping wet slit. “Not fair- really not fair-”

“Not fair that this pussy likes me more than you?” He titters, “Now, that’s not fair t’me—”

“Oh, you-”

“Poor, poor Ryomen Sukuna.” He pretends to weep, to shake his head. “With no clue as to why his favorite human is ignoring him.”

“Shit-” He pumps a direct hit to your womb. Twitching there in warning.

“If it was gifts you’d wanted, then I could buy you this whole damn world-”

Your eyes widen, “The world?”

“Yes, the world.” Sukuna sounded dead serious. “Don’t be frugal, woman.” And you didn’t doubt that he didn’t have enough gold to do so- or at least give a damn valiant try. Sukuna digs his honed, blackened fingernails upon either side of your hips—cocks fucking you through your first high and straight into another. Another. Another. “Do you know how many nights we’ve lost together?”

It just feels so fucking gooood to have his furious, feverish tips pressing into every spot. You can only whine—

“Do you know how many times I could’ve cum inside this pussy until then?” Almost reminiscing as he fucks you, all those times he’s done so before. Will do so again. “Do you know how many times I’ve lost having that pretty pussy squeeze ‘round me when she cums- yes, you do that.”

Your breath hitches, “S-squeeze…?”

“Mhmm—” Ravenous red eyes narrowing down at you. There’s an almost feral grin upon his face- “Didn’t you know that? She squeezes around both cocks- like she wants to hold me back whilst she cums. Like she can’t- fuck, bear to leave.”

“Oh my god-” You gasp. Arching into his plush pecs.

And Sukuna is more than happy to let you do so - in fact, one of his hands lifts off of the bed to crush your face into his chest. Your mouth slobberin’ stupidly all over his pinkish nipples—his second mouth swabbin’ his tongue between your pussylips n’ fucking straight into your hole.

While he fucks you with two cocks. The stretch was just incredible. 

The next time you reach your highs, you’re squirting.

“And you say this pussy doesn’t love me…”

.

.

.

The next morning, Uraume wakes up at the crack of dawn- as per their duties.

And they have to admit that last night…they didn’t obtain a satisfying rest. Forget eight hours of sleep, they’d have been lucky to get eight winks—no thanks to their King of Curses, of course. The constant pounding and rattling and rutting had echoed all throughout this wing of the Royal Estate. 

And whenever Uraume had thought it had finally paused and perhaps their King had retired for the night- it would start right up again.

It must’ve been right before daybreak that they finally heard the last creeeeeak–! and groan of those ancient bedsprings. 

And just like that…peace.

They’d closed their eyes for all but 1 minute and 34 seconds, of course. Uraume would know, they counted.

And they’re stomping right out of bed- genuinely reconsidering that leave of absence when—

A knock at their door.

Possibly one of the other attendants. Possibly some problem or the other that they had to address right away- honestly, give a person time to brush their teeth first!

But, no.

Not at all.

Instead, Uraume is met with no one at the door.

No person.

Nothing but a large wrapped-up gift box, the type that one can tell is expensive at first glance. Looking around the corridor provides no other person there with them - and they’re dropping down to their knees in an instant. Opening up the large lid-

Inside, are the most beautiful crisp white kimonos. And a note attached—

‘Thank you. - R.’

Maybe this job wasn’t so bad after all.

They still don’t get paid, though.

♡ INO TAKUMA - 15th FEB. at 2:48AM

Ino Takuma has fucked up.

Majorly.

First, he ended up spending waaaay longer than he should’ve on his latest mission report—who even needs to impress the higher-ups, anyway? Ino has this ongoing theory that they don’t even read those damn things…And yet again, that didn’t stop him from scrutinizing each and every word that slid across the page like slugs on salt.

And by the time he’d finally dotted his last full stop (a momentous occasion) and looked outside- tell him why the world looked dark?

The black-out curtain of night. He’d gasped then—

Brown eyes flickering immediately to the clock on the wall, one that had been tutting at him for the past few hours. Watching. Waiting. 

It shifted its sharp, spindly hand to the next hour that struck.

12:00AM

Midnight.

Exactly four hours past when he was supposed to meet you for your Valentine’s date.

Shit.

Shit. 

Ino checked his phone, and had never run faster in his entire life. Not even when he was being chased by a Special Grade curse.

And that wasn’t all- of course, that wasn’t all. 

To make matters worse, he’d wanted you to have the most beautiful bouquet possible today - the brightest, the reddest, the freshest. And fearing that the air conditioning in Jujutsu High’s offices might make the flowers wilt, Ino had put off the gift for after he’d finished up his work. Who’d have thought that one might just prefer slightly-wilted flowers to banging on the door of a florist’s shop at 12AM? No chance.

Shiiiiiit. 

From then on had been a sequence of banging on store doors to no avail, or scanning the emptied aisles of any Valentine-themed shop he set his eyes on.

His plundering and pillaging wasn’t fruitful - and it was 2:33AM by the time that Ino slipped quietly into your shared apartment. With the wholly bountiful loot of: a box of orange candy, a card, a set of matching journals, a turtle plushie that sang ‘Sorry’ by Justin Bieber, and a pathetic plastic rose he managed to fight some old lady over.

To be quite honest, he would have broken up with himself.

But alas—that is not quite yet possible. You’d been awake and understanding, however, worried that he’d been working himself to the bone over that new report.

You’d been so sweet - ushering him to get ready for bed, and telling him that it was just some commercial holiday. He knows that, but still…

Ino thinks he could cry a little (he does).

And as he gets into bed beside you, he’s promising himself that he won’t fuck you stupid like he’d wanted to on Valentine’s Day. “Ban me from your pussy.” Ino whispers.

You turn to him in confusion, “Excuse me?”

“Ban me from your pussy- I’m so serious.” He’s promising himself that he’s going to make it up to you first before even having such thoughts. “I can’t believe I missed fucking Valentine’s Day- ban me from your pussy. I don’t deserve her.” He’s promising himself that—that—

You hum, “Hmmm, you sure about that?”

And whatever promises he’s trying to fool himself into—they’re flying out the window as soon as you’re pressin’ your behind to his front. Your pretty ass against his cock. Teasing. 

In what should be an innocent spooning position…but Ino traces a few fingers down your inner thighs. That’s when his brain short-circuits- as he registers that you were wearing his favorite pair of silky panties. Strappy. Crotchless. 

You’re fucking evil.

Your boyfriend doesn’t even need to spread them aside- merely setting a hand underneath your right leg and perking it up. Just the barest few inches he needs to tug down his sweatpants n’ glue his ruddied tip to your core. 

He’s hitting your pussy with a wet thwack! Meeting your pussylips in the sweetest kiss. Letting his slick precum slide-slide-sliiiiide vertical lines down your crevice. It dribbles down to your thighs, all wet and gooey. 

And Ino isn’t lasting too long before he throws his head back and ruts—harsh and animalistic. The raw sensation of your hole was almost too much. He doesn’t even know where his lengthy shaft is going, honed cockhead probin’ between your pussylips and getting sandwiched by them. The cutest hot embrace that he’s held hostage by- he humps his way between your legs like a damn beast. Again. And again.

“Please-” He echoes a guttural whisper into your neck. Scorching hot breath wafting all over your features, crushing your limbs so tightly to him that it almost hurts. “Please, please, please—”

You’re amused at the slight crack in his tone. “Please what, baby?”

“Please…” Ino’s large chocolate eyes peer down at you. He’s craning his neck down and gnawing on your pretty lips. “Please, ma’am?”

“Not that, baby.” You hum. Pushing your hips further back into his- in no time, he was fucking you with the swollen reddened tip of his cock. He was thiiiick and honed at the very top, slipping inside easily and swabbin’ into the tiny geysering orifices of your cunt. “I j-just meant that you didn’t have to-”

“But I do have to beg.” Ino insists, lips wobbling as though he was on the verge of tears. “Ban me from your pussy. I didn’t manage to make it before Valentine’s Day and spoil you- oh.”

Just then, your velvety walls were clenchin’ around him. And it’s enough to make Ino’s hips stutter sideways, hitting the globes of your ass cheeks with a sudden spank. “Shit…” You swear at the stinging contact. Ino was now gripping either side of your hips n’ digging his rovering cockhead between your pussylips - in rapid, ruinous half-thrusts just to ease inside. “B-but it just—ngh, couldn’t be helped. Don’t beat yourself up, baby-”

“But you should beat me up.”

Lifting your head off the pillow and looking over your shoulder. In slight worry- “Taku—”

“Wait, sweetness-”

“Taku, do you want me to be mean to you?” And when he isn’t answering immediately, you rut up your hips into his prominent v-line. Just so toned, massaging your back- it marks whichever direction his globular cockhead was heading. Leeeeft and right. Baaaack and forth.

Shoving even deeper into your tight channel. And you can feel his blushing face pushing into your neck, fever-hot. “You’re such a naughty boy, aren’t you?”

He groans—loooong and drawn-out. “Sh-shush, pretty. I didn’t mean it like…” But his train of thought trails off - just as much as yours does - because Ino’s rotund tip only seems to swell even bigger. The flares ridge of it scrapin’ ever tender spot inside you, bucking back and forth.

Your glistening hole to the back of your cervix. Deeper and deeper.

You gasp, “So you did like me calling you that.” Spit-slick lips of his parting as you arch your spine even further. “Such a naughty boy- fuck, you don’t even deserve to be fucked like this- y’know?”

And to your surprise, he’s fervently nodding. Rutting. “I don’t deserve it.”

“Least of all, you don’t deserve this pussy-”

“I don’t deserve it—” Uttering in such a whiny tone. Biting back his gasps. 

“Maybe I really should ban you.”

“Please.” Trembling digits clasp onto either side of your hips, digging his rounded fingertips into the flesh there. He’s leaving marks there, he’s tightening his hold- as if afraid you’d actually run away and he’s have to chase after your pretty cunt—“T-tell me more, pretty. Make me feel sorry…”

Ino’s hot breath makes shivers run down your spine. “Y-you probably thought about fucking me all day, huh?”

He hisses as if caught, “Fisted my cock about- mmm, five times in the office bathroom thinking of you, sweetness.” Hands gliding all over your body - n’ down your front where he presses on your stomach. That faint cylindrical bulge he was fucking into you, “With this very hand, pretty- fuck, I imagined this so many times.”

“Filthy.” You tut. “And yet, you still missed Valentine’s?”

“I thought about coming home early s-sooooo many times.” Ino whines against your ear. Just the notion of you insulting him is enough to tighten his heavy balls, slappin’ away between your legs with fervour. “So many times- fuck the report, fuck those elders.”

“Language.”

“Sorry, ma’am.” A few lines of perspiration glide from his chestnut hair. And his tone is all clogged up with lecherous husks, “B-but I’d rather have been fucking you—”

“Oh.” Because then he’s slamming into your g-spot that you see stars.

The split-ended shape of his cockhead, pushing straight into where you were softest. It’s almost as if Ino was fucking his very shape into your cunt, molding your pretty walls to him- not that he deserved that, either. 

But the fact that he didn’t deserve your treacly wet pussy and was still managing to fuck into you like a madman…oh, that was nearly enough to make him cum.

“Would’ve fucked you right on that table.” Ino rasps out, panting. Breathy. “Would’ve fuh-fucked you all day long- would’ve fucked you even if someone heard. If someone came in.”

Your eyes grow wide, “Would you have?”

He nods. Dead serious. “I would’ve fucked you right in front of them.” So much of a carnal sensation that he almost couldn’t handle it - he gnaws the pointed tips of his canines against the shell of your ear. “Showed them how niiiicely I fuck this pretty pussy—showed them…ngh, just how greedy she is to swallow me.”

“Pervert—” You whine.

And he grows even bigger inside you. “That, I am.” Before a sudden look of sheepishness crosses his face once more, “And th-this pervert is sorry that I couldn’t make it-”

“But at least you did now.” You answer. “And as a little reward for my- oh, naughty boy…”

Edging in closer, “Yes?”

You’re smiling that very smile that ruins him—“How about for Valentine’s Day you cum inside, Taku?”

And that’s all it takes for him to cum inside.

Thick. Hot ropes. 

Flooding your insides with all his ribbons of sap, they’re reaching every deep spot inside you n’ leaving your walls scalding hot. As if he was trying to leave you feeling him in there for daaaaays on end - just sizzling inside and splashin’ with his seed. So much.

The volume was so much that it leaves you leaking out between your legs, gluing your thighs together in all his slick white sheen. And very drag of his long cock leaves your poor innards practically drowning—

“Can I make it up to you again, pretty?”

“You lecher.”

He almost cums again right then n’ there.

.

.

.

The next day, Professor Yaga is receiving a report straight to his desk. Thick. Taking up presence on top of the ancient wooden furniture.

It was covered in a manila folder way, which was unusual for a report - if you followed the protocol of most sorcerers, one was lucky if they slap-dashed a mere page and called it a day. Thrown right over the desk a week after the deadline. And by the size and heft of this thing, it was at least fifty full pages.

As Yaga gets closer, he’s reading the stamp on the envelope—Ino Takuma. One of the best Grade 2 sorcerers that jujutsu society possessed.

It was no surprise that he was the one who put together such a detailed report. Yaga had been told by Panda that he’d worked right through Valentine’s on this thing, leaving around midnight. Which was…quite a lot of effort for a report. Yaga wasn’t sure if he himself would’ve put in this much work, but he also knew that Ino had been aiming for that Grade 1 rank.

He also knew that the boy had a girlfriend - you - and wondered just how you let him get away with such a thing. But then again, maybe that wasn’t his business…

Yaga sits down and opens up the folder, finding the first page to be—nothing to do with the report at all. Instead, it was a notice of taking leave - for a week citing ‘personal situations’.

Next was a receipt for a bouquet of 143 red, red roses. Seemingly filed in here by accident.

Well, Yaga holds back a smile, he guesses he could permit it this time…

♡ GOJO SATORU - You think he lasts?

You: Toru, where the hell are you??

You: We’re late for our reservation!!

You: Pick up your phone.

You: TOOOOOOOOOORU.

You: TOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORU

You: Ugh, you’re probably on some mission or something </33 

You: But on Valentine’s Day of all days?? C’moooooooooon.

You: At least pick up your phone, Toru.

You: Gojo Satoru, you are hereby and forevermore under a sex ban. 

Just a few minutes after sending that last text, you hear a sudden crash outside your penthouse apartment—loud and reverberating. It had the sort of electric charge that made the hair on your body stand on end.

Like thunder.

It leaves you wondering whether a storm could be nearby- there weren’t many neighborhood noises that carried up to your floor. Gojo had picked this place specifically because of that. So perhaps an oncoming thunderstorm? Perhaps some sort of electrical shortage?

Your bedroom light was certainly flickering- and you almost considered turning it off altogether. 

What a day. First you get all dolled up for your boyfriend to not arrive at your shared home on time, then he doesn’t answer your texts, then this…whatever this is.

But you can placate yourself by thinking that you won’t get caught in the impending storm, then. No romantic dinner on Valentine’s Day anyways. On the bright side, your make-up shall remain flawless!

At least, that’s what you think.

Because then that crash emanates through the apartment once more—though, this time, it sounds far too close to be a distant storm. Far too…inside the apartment?

You’re just able to sit up on your king-sized bed. Before there’s yet another crash, and soon enough your damn bedroom door is being ripped off its hinges. Absolutely obliterated. Absolutely shattering into a zillion pieces of the most expensive mahogany that Japan can offer. 

And you almost don’t have to look up to know that none other than your boyfriend can do such a thing.

Sure enough, once you’re blinking your eyes back open - and the haze of wooden dust dissipates - you see Gojo Satoru standing there. Ivory head bowed. Feet apart. Chest heaving as though he’d just run a marathon—or worse yet, teleported one.

He must have teleported one.

Times like this, you’re really registering just how tall Gojo is. He covers most of the cut-out frame of the bedroom door, blocking any light. And also blocking his expression…

You’re calling out to him cautiously, “Satoru?”

To which he snaps his head up at you and blanches—“Were you serious about the sex ban?” Face slack. Voice high. 

Now you’re just taken aback. “The one I set like two minutes ago? I-I don’t know, Toru, I just wanted you to get home-” 

“But I am home.” He responds. And as he takes a single step closer, a wave of charged atoms hit you like a faint forcefield - right now, you’re not even sure if Gojo knows his powers are leaking out like this. “But, I am—I am.” Your boyfriend insists, and there was a wide desperation in his blue eyes as though you wouldn’t believe him. “Were you serious about the sex ban?”

“Toru-”

“Were you serious about the sex ban?”

Like a mantra. 

He takes another step closer, and the pressure of his cursed energy was almost unbearable. “Were you serious about the sex ban?”

“Toru, no—it was just- oh.”

And you don’t know how it happens - one minute you’re attempting to placate your slightly-frenzied boyfriend about the joke you’d made minutes earlier. And the next, you’re being laid flat against the mattress—Gojo’s hands pushing down on your hips, his right knee pressing between your legs.

Feeling just how soaked you were through those sodden panties of yours- you had no idea how he even had the faintest inkling that seeing him so ruined made…something in you stir. Almost as if he had a sixth sense.

And his hypersensitive ears pick up the lecherous squeeeelch! that you’re letting off once he presses his knee down. 

“Fuck, you’re so…” Gojo’s coral pink lips part, glossed over with a sheen of slick that made it seem as though his mouth had been watering the entire way here. His head droops forward. His other hand starts to crackle with cursed energy—“Fuck, you’re so ready f’me.”

“Sa—toru…” You’re letting your heart race. You need him. And that’s all it takes for him to flinch- as though your mere tone saying his name awoke something in him. And the man is dragging his free left hand down your front - in a split-second, your clothes vaporize into thin air.

The dress you’d picked out especially for tonight. Your bra. Your garter.

All but your sodden panties.

He’s keeping that on. 

Reaching out one buzzing index, he juuuuuust pulls it to the side. Gojo doesn’t waste a single second before tugging his damn designer pants down and freeing himself. 

Showing you just the briefest flash of his rudded, ravaging hot tip—before you’re feeling it stuffin’ between your unsteady legs. Right between without waiting for you to get ready. Right between without waiting for you to accommodate him.

It’s so tight that he hisses.

And it seems that Gojo Satoru has just enough sense to wait until you’re catching your breath- before he reels his hips back and bucks. And bucks. And buuuuucks—teasing your entrance with the sheer stretch. Pummeling himself past that first clench of resistance to try n’ fit inside. He arches his spine to angle his cockhead against the roof of your pussy, “S-see?”

There’s a crack on the tail end of Gojo’s sentence. And you’re looking up at him in slight concern, “Yes?”

But he doesn’t even seem to hear - merely pulling his thickened erection back and stuttering out yet another strike. Sloppy. Into the deepest depths that he could reach at the moment, “See that?” And then back out- and then back in. The sequence continues. “See—”

And you’re not quite sure what you’re supposed to see- “What do you-”

“M’fucking you.” Cold chills sprint down your spine at the realization that this was that the ever-intelligent Gojo Satoru wanted to tell you. Was he really that gone on your pussy already? “And i-if I’m fucking you…I’m having sex with you.”

Your mind’s getting all muddled- whatever response you had locked-away in your throat getting mixed up with Gojo’s own groan. “Can’t have a sex ban if m’having s-sex with you.” He’s echoing out such a harrowed noise at the feeling of himself sliding even deeper.

Getting cushioned by your velvety walls.

Getting suctioned across every ridge n’ vein upon him.

All ten or so inches - yes, The Strongest also seemed to be the The Biggest - squeezing in through the tight channel. You were being thoroughly stretched-out, with his hand pinning one side of your hips so that you don’t squirm. And perhaps subconsciously breezing out the warm air of reversed cursed energy—all so that he doesn’t hurt you once he’s emptying out his solid shaft towards the bottom of your spongy cervix. 

Ending out with a reverberating thwack! right on your womb.

Bottomed-out.

Something you never thought possible so soon- with Gojo’s size.

And the man himself twitches just a bit as he takes in the vision between your swollen pussylips. Your folds spread wide open n’ your entrance attempting to clench around his swollen length- “See?” Gojo whispers out once more. “S-see—now m’never gonna leave from…”

“From?” But your question gets answered soon enough. Because your boyfriend runs a finger down your core, ending up at your mid-section- the circle of bright blue around his pupils starts to glow. 

And with Gojo’s Six Eyes, he can see exactly where his throbbing tip ended inside you. Smushed against your cervix in the most loving kiss - he presses down on that exact spot with a single finger. “-from here.” So muddled in the mind with his cock- you’ve almost forgotten what he was talking about. “I’m n-never gonna leave from here now, sweetheart.”

“Is that—oh, ngh.” His globular cockhead presses against the softened end of your pussy- but really it feels like he’s fucking right up to your very throat. Again and again. Thrust after thrust.

“It’s true.” And you genuinely wonder whether he can read your mind at this very moment. Because right now, Gojo had one hand latched onto your body n’ never letting go - all so that he can seep out reverse cursed energy into you.

So that he can drill into you like a damn animal—fucking his swollen, red cock in and out. In and out. In and out. Without fearing breaking a bone or two or you- “I swear.” Gojo lovingly nuzzles your throat, the complete opposite of how filthily he was fucking you. “I swear to not pull out-”

Your eyes widen, “You’re gonna c-cum inside, Toru?” And you can’t deny that you’re growing wetter at the fact…

“I swear to always kiss your cervix- ngh, that pretty womb every single time.” His mouth parts with a few dribbles of saliva. He was gone. “I swear to always fill you up over n’ over n’ over—until you overspill.”

And you couldn’t help but feel that these sounded oddly like wedding vows. “And- and—?”

“I swear to give you the best orgasms of your entire—” 

See, Gojo Satoru never had to try quite as much to get you to cum - he just knew your body that well. He was acquainted well enough with the cute sweet spots inside of you, he was well-versed in just how to make your pits of pleasure tick. He knew from experience where to hit your g-spot just right and in the same thrust bang against that one spot on your womb.

But now…now he isn’t using anything he knew. He wasn’t using anything he could think up.

Gojo was fucking you on pure, carnal instinct.

And it’s with such ferality that he angles his hips juuuust to the side- bludgeoning cockhead reaching the target of your bundle of nerves. You’re seeing white in an instant.

And as though that hadn’t been enough, Gojo reaches his hand down and spanks! his energy-covered fingertips down on your clit. The little sparks of jujutsu coursing through your veins and mingling with the constant thrashes he was pounding out at your g-spot. It’s with one-two-three more hits on top of your ravaged clit that you’re toppling over the edge of your high-

The vision of you cumming on his cock so, soooo fucking pretty…

“F-fuuuuck—” You’re hearing Gojo echo out in what seems like a distance. It was too hard to register with the dizzying sensations in your mind- his tip probin’ inside your cunt again and again and again.

Fucking you through each blissful bout of your high. He lets his lashes flutter just a bit—“S-squeezing me so tight.” Gojo’s voice cracks once he’s letting it out, visceral shivers wracking through his body. “So tight like you don’t wanna- ngh, let go.” His scalding lips fall on top of yours. “But you don’t have to…”

And then he’s veering into his own euphoria.

Pretty pinkish balls emptying out in looooong waves of dribblin’ slick- gooey and hot. Sticking to your walls like a layer of glaze, it gets sploshed about every time Gojo’s pinpointing your insides with his split-ended tip. The circular divot at the very end swervin’ about his white cum—filling you up.

You feel filled to the brim even before he’s done- and Gojo hums at the mess he’s made.

Still cumming. Still so much volume that it leaks out of you anyway - with more n’ more glittery wads of cum being added onto the pile, you couldn’t imagine just how much was going to end up inside you in the end.

How much of it was going to reach your very womb—

“I t-told you.” Gojo breathes out, deep blue eyes staring into yours. It’s just so mesmerizing to stare up into his enchanted look - so much so that you nearly don’t notice once he picks up your left hand. Placing a peck upon its back, “I kept all my oaths, didn’t I? I came home in time for Valentine’s- all your gifts are outside, by the way, my girl.”

You’re nodding dazedly. “You kept your promises, Toru.”

“My oaths.” He corrects - there was a difference, see? But before you can compute that difference, Gojo reaches a hand out towards the destroyed bedroom door- “And there’s another oath I want to make.”

And then it flies into his hand.

You think it might be a tight bundle of his blindfolds, at first. But it ends up being something more solid, something more cubic—something like…a ring box.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, my wife.”

♡ HIGURUMA HIROMI - 27th FEB. at 2:37PM

Overtime.

Throughout the course of your relationship until now, that dreaded ‘o’ word had remained your husband’s metaphorical mistress—and your worst enemy. Of course, Higuruma absolutely hated whenever you mentioned this - first of all, because he’d never, ever take a mistress.

Why would he, when he had you? His beautiful wife.

May lightning strike him down otherwise.

And secondly, because…well alright. Higuruma has to admit that that was the only qualm he had with your little comparison- because he was a self-admitted workaholic.

Whenever divorce season (you always thought this expression to be somewhat morbid, and he just claimed it was fact), or suing season, or some other multi-billion yen case came along—Higuruma and his firm would be thrown into a frenzy. Working long, sleepless nights.

Your husband slept more at his desk than in bed, those days.

Although it has calmed down somewhat since you two had moved in. Since you two had gotten married. 

The law firm had grown - and with it - the number of capable lawyers who could take on a share of cases. Higuruma didn’t have to do anything quite by himself anymore.

Higuruma was more in-check, remember?

Also, the fact that you were around him more—urging him to take care of himself more - likely helped. If he didn’t have you knocking at his home-office door and telling him that you were going to sleep now, then honestly he might just never sleep again. During those seasons, at least.

Except…well, except for this February.

February 14th.

Holed up in his office- he’d been half-way through the nth meeting that day. 

Some massive fraud case that they had in the bag - but the other team wasn’t too bad themselves. One could never be too confident in court. And so here they were, poring through the documents well into the evening when—Higuruma had glanced at his phone for a text from you. By chance.

And it was only then that he’d realized he’d missed Valentine’s Day.

Fuck.

Fuck.

He’d handed that meeting over to a junior and ran out immediately.

Nonetheless, Higuruma has missed his chance- no matter how many bouquets or chocolates he bought you. And so here he was, suffering from a sex ban.

Tortured by it.

Because of his own fault, most certainly. But that didn’t make his poor, neglected cock throb any less.

Still showing up to work with impeccable attendance (even earlier, actually) because the longer he stayed in your proximity, the more desperately he wanted to stuff your hole full. The more he’d think about it at work. The more he’d fantasize about just how wet you’d be when you finally lift this ban. The more he’d run to the bathroom whenever you called—fisting his cock furiously in there to the sound of your voice.

The more those around him grew slightly…concerned.

“S-sir?” His most-trusted junior was bounding up to him after nearly two weeks of this.

As Higuruma lifts his head up, he’s realizing that she’s followed by a froth of other juniors and staff. All seemingly coming to speak with him? Something must be amiss…“How may I help you?”

“Sir, actually—” She looks behind her and nods at the other attorneys. “Sir, we would like to tell you that you’ve been working so hard lately-”

“Well, yes-”

“And the case is so near to a close-”

“Certainly-”

“And we can handle it from here.”

“Oh.”

Kicked out of his own office (not quite, but close enough…). Higuruma Hiromi had been dismissed at the plea of his juniors, who’d clearly thought he’d been working himself to the bone—he’d gone home early for the first time in…his entire life.

And once he got home, Higuruma knew what he needed to do first.

First, he’d go up to you - his beautiful wife - and go a bit of grovelling. As all husbands should. Then he’d get on his knees, eat your pretty pussy—and then…

“P-please—” You’re throwing your head back. Cumming for about the third time in the past hour- Higuruma always had such an effort on you.

No matter how many years you two were together- that first taste of your pussy was always like heaven for him. He could see the pearly gates themselves openin’ up—and to him, it looked quite a lot like those swollen pussylips of yours.

Sensitive n’ splattered in a sheen of slick.

He rubs his thumb between your crevice and licks off those honeyed juices - greedy. Just before he’s swirlin’ his thickened tip around your gummy entrance and shoving inside—the first thrust.

All the way from his fat, mushroomy tip- to the tufts of curly brown at his base. 

Higuruma doesn’t even wait for you to accommodate his size. He doesn’t care if you’re struggling, he doesn’t care if your cunt quivers like you can’t take it all- because a single slide-slide-sliiiIiide down the channel of your pussy and he’s done for.

After not feeling you for soooo fucking long - and he’s immediately pussydrunk.

That stoic, stern attorney is pussydrunk.

“My- my angel—” An immediate scorching pant escapes him. It gusts against your face and leaves your heart racing- everything about Higuruma now just seemed feverish. 

Without a second sentence, he’s reeling his hips back. All the way from base to tip- one of his hands pins down against the side of your hips, the other guides his cock. 

Using it as leverage to lavish your insides with his drivelling pre. Honed, burrowing tip. And the rest of him was just so thiiiiick and covered in angry veins, harder than you ever think he’s been. He massages your cunt even with the tiniest of sultry movements, fucking you in tiny, rapid thrusts. Thrust after thrust.

Every inch of him stretchin’ out your walls just felt incredible-

“Shit—” You keen, arching your spine up into his. Higuruma still had his shirt only partly unbuttoned, and that formal tie of his still dangling from his neck. 

And he doesn’t say a thing.

Too focused on your cunt.

Too focused on perking his hips up just a bit- his ruddied tip swipes the roof of your cunt. Leaving you shocked at the pressure of him inside you, right before he’s funneling you with eeeeven more inches—fighting against the slight resistance at your first ring of muscle to fuck himself even deeper. Deeper. 

And he still doesn’t make a sound. 

He seems to be reaching for your very throat, and you whine. “Sh-shit, Hiromi.” As your legs start to ache n’ strain around his slender waist, your husband dips a hand down between your legs. Making you gasp as his expert fingers start toyin’ with your pretty clit - teasing and draaaagging that sensitive nub out till you start to sob. “Shit—fuck, Hiromi. Hold on-”

“Hold on?”

A chill runs down your spine.

Immediately, you’re snapping your head up to meet Higuruma’s dark, dilated eyes. His expression that seemed something feral—he’s rutting his hips once more. 

This time…this time, you’re realizing that he’d actually been holding back with his strikes earlier. Now, he was plummeting all those nine inches from tip to hilt without stopping. Without slowing down. Without sensually hittin’ at your sweet spots to help you take him better- he was drilling into you like he was crazed. “Hold on?”

Higuruma repeats.

And you can only peer up at him- “Y-yes?” Sobs and saliva clogging up your throat - you sounded pathetic to your own ears. “It was just a saying, Hiromi, I-”

“You want me to…fucking hold on?” Voice slightly breathy. Slightly gone. “I’ve waited-” And between those vicious thrusts that he was pounding upon your pussy, Higuruma spits out lewd whispers. “-waited for too fucking long to have her- and you want me to- fucking—hold—on—”

Three exact slams upon your spongy cervix, it makes you thoroughly squeal. “I-I was just saying-”

“I thought about this pussy every goddamn day and night and-” He was on a roll now. As if the more he rutted himself inside, the less he could control what he said—“-and during every fucking meeting—”

Serious black eyes staring down at you. You could see your own gaping expression reflected in them.

“I ran to the bathroom every morning when you’d call me-” He utters. Admits. “-just to fuck my hand to the sound of your voice—” And you don’t know what’s making your stomach churn more - the registering of his words, or the way that Higuruma thrusts in deep. So deep that he knocks against your womb. “-and you want me to fucking hold on?”

So deep that he’s cumming.

Loooooong, miry stripes of seed that stick to your walls. 

They dribble down your insides. That glaze every inch of you in a creamy white- splashin’ around your insides and coating every nook n’ cranny. It just feels so sizzling hot inside of you, and you’re shivering at the feeling of him warming you up from the inside - saturated sap leaving you whimpering at the noise. The warmth.

He fucks his webs of seed deeper inside. And you raise your head up ever-so-slightly and watch as it dribbles out of you.

And Higuruma can’t help but do the same-

“Fuck…” He breathes. “S-so are we about to hold off on that pregnancy, too?”

.

.

.

“Boss-” Higuruma turns his head at the address of his title - none other than the very same junior from yesterday. She shuffled slightly before him, almost nervous to voice out such thoughts—“You seem well today, sir.”

Higuruma hums, “Is that so?”

She nods eagerly. “Your dark circles have cleared up- and you seem to be glowing. Alert. A bit more sharp than you were yesterday…” Assessing all of him- “You just seem happier than you’ve been in days, sir. Is the fraud case really going that well?”

And he has to hide a smile with the paper he was holding. “You could say that…”

A/N. No idea why this turned into them also trying to get us pregnant- maybe I’m ovulating??

Moans spilling into the sheets as your cheek jerks against the soft fabric below you, “S’kuna,” sloshes out of your saliva-glossed lips.

Sukuna didn’t waste a second when he played that little video of yours, he came knocking on your bedroom door within the next minute—walking in and grabbing at your waist, tugging you closer just to whisper against your lips and tell you to 'stop him if you don’t want this’. 

Then his lips had met yours and while you were confused (having not realized what you sent him), you let your mouth melt against his and before you knew it you were arched stupidly under him, taking every needy inch of his cock he gifted your pussy with.

You and your roommate never had this kind of relationship before now. Hell, the only thing you two had in common was the fact that you enjoyed partying. Which is why you were supposed to send him a video you took of him the other night but...

"This can't be the same woman who was talking so fuckin' filthily in that little video I received," He's teasing now, referring to the incorrect video you'd sent him. It was technically a video meant for a friend with benefits of yours, taken that same night—late after the party and saved for another time.

Within it, you were messily rubbing those pretty fingers of yours over your twitching clit, working yourself to quite the messy orgasm as you spoke all softly, yet confidently, into the camera.

Sukuna's cock is all but splitting you open by this point, stretching the walls of your cunt out so deliciously wide with the way he drives himself deeper and deeper—leaving you cockdrunk beneath him. "Surely you can moan more than just my name," His voice is dropping to a low whisper now.

Then, without waiting for a proper response to that, Sukuna's shifting the hand on your hip to snake beneath you and then down to meet that sloppy clit of yours. Rubbing fast, messy circles around it, he hears the way you gasp in response.

He's in your ear before you realize it, swollen cockhead leaving wet french kisses to the hilt of your cunt. "What was it you said—oh yeah, 'look how wet I am for you, how needy'," He mocks harmlessly, lips curling against the crown of your ear. "Where's all that now, hm? Can't even think straight enough to say anything when you're stuffed this full, can you?"

That last rhetorical question ends off with a mean pinch to your clit and your body tugs forward to escape once again, to which he leans up and removes his hands from you completely. Cocking his head to the side, Sukuna doesn’t take more than a second to return his hands to the purchase of your hips, tugging them right back up and smiling at the arch in your back before he smacks your ass.

You think your lashes flutter at the sharp and sudden contact alone, “F-Fuck, Sukuna I—“

“Uh-uh, don’t try to talk now.” He cuts off rudely, tugging his hips back for a moment and nearly letting out an all too pathetic sound at the way his cock bobs out of your cunt and glistens under the dim lighting of your room. He’s coated in you and the sight makes his body throb all over. “Shiit,” He curses hot under his breath, “Look at this pussy, what a mess.”

You feel him move to thumb one of your folds to the side, watching how nastily your cunt drools in arousal afterward. Your legs twitch a little and you angle your head so that you can look back at him over your shoulder. Managing a somewhat stern, “Sukuna.” out your mouth.

His other hand gestures at you, as if to wave you off while his tongue goes running over his lips. After which he redirects the head of his cock to press right against where you’re leaking and a groan simpers deep against the center of his throat, “Put her back on me, c’mon.”

You swallow thickly, “What?”

Sukuna lifts his eyes lazily to your face for half a second before his hands find your hips and he urges you back on him, “Your pussy, c’mere.. I wanna watch how she spreads ‘round me again.” He clarifies huskily, feeling the way you oh-so-slowly ease yourself back and watching the way his cock gets swallowed up by your greedy cavern. “Mhmm, just like that,” He grunts.

His brows furrow and his expression flickers into something almost needy when you slam your hips back and you watch his jaw fall open, hands tightening on your hips to still your body whilst you pull away from him.

“So you can take me properly,” Sukuna whispers more so to himself than you, smiling wickedly. Then his hand smacks across your ass and he leans back to watch you, “Hah, alright then, fuck yourself dumb on my cock. Let me see how you do it now.”

You end up turning your face into the sheets, too embarrassed to keep looking at him while you do exactly as he’s told you to and rock your hips back into his. Sukuna’s left grunting each time you slam against him but his palms still meet both your cheeks just to spread you open and watch his dick get swallowed up by you.

The bedsheet below ends up clenched between your teeth after only a few minutes as you pick up your pace and literally fuck yourself stupid on him—his groans become sweeter and you even feel his hands trying to keep you at bay every now and then, as if to stop himself from cumming too quick.

That sinful squelch that enters the air every time you become flush with him is enough to make those red eyes roll straight to the back of his skull as his hips press forward just a little. And by the time you’re making a mess around his cock and your mind is going blank, Sukuna’s wondering why the two of you didn’t do this sooner.

His head tips to the side and he lazily ruts his hips forward to fuck you through your orgasm. “Guess’ you’ll be looking twice at the shit you send me after this, huh?” He hums, a knowing smirk spreading across his face afterwards, “Unless, this is exactly what you wanted.”

☆ Gojo Satoru

You’re on the phone with him when it happens, not looking twice at the video you’ve sent him before you put your cell back down and went to tend to something else.

The only reason your little mistake is brought to your attention within the next few minutes is because Gojo all but gulps on his end and says, “Have I been blind all this time or have you always looked this cockhungry?”

To which your brain merely shuts off at the sound of that, head whirling around to swipe your phone back up as you choke out a shocked, “What?” The line is quiet for a few seconds so you follow that up with, “Satoru? Hello?”

You could hear the deep breath he takes on the other end of the call followed by a whisper, as if he were talking moreso to himself then he was to you, “I mean, look at that gorgeous face. Fuck.”

For some reason, the idea that you might have even sent him the wrong thing doesn’t cross your mind at all. Instead, you’re still sitting on your bed and holding your phone while looking all confused.

“Satoru, what are you talking about?” You ask further, only just now opening up your messages again.

You’ve known Gojo for a long time now but this is by far the breathiest you’ve ever heard his voice and the filthiest he’s ever spoken to you. “This video you sent me. Y'know, the one of you rubbing that pretty clit of yours….” He trails off a little, jaw tensing as he keeps said video on repeat and palms his hardening cock.

Your body heated up almost immediately as you took a look at the most recent thing you sent him and found that you did, in fact, send him the wrong thing. Sputtering, “I-I didn’t–”

The whites of Gojo's brows are pushed together and his voice comes out heavily with something new, something raw. “You look so frustrated here too, all eager to cum… Fuck, that's cute.” He continues.

You’re sitting on your end of the line with flimsy wet panties now, unable to find the words to respond to him with as you listen to his breathing grow heavier and his words get nastier.

“How long ago was this? Looks like just the other day,” Gojo continues, his hips lifting up into his palm a bit to soothe the aching of his cock—the heat of it straining up against his pants.

He was supposed to be on his way to the grocery store in hopes of buying more sweets to crowd your shared pantry with. Gojo sent you a text asking for a picture of the pantry's current state so he could purchase the right things and yet, you happened to tap the wrong picture & then hit send without even looking twice (clearly).

Embarrassment coats your features as you listen to him question you and you trip over your words trying to explain your mistake, “S-Satoru, I-“

“Didn’t mean to send this to me? Oh, I know.” He cuts off. Gojo didn't normally cut you off like that but you'd be lying if you said his eagerness wasn't turning you on right now. “But if you’re so shy about it, just delete it and tell me to stop talking.” He says almost formally.

Now, you weren't aware of it, but that pretty picture you'd sent has already been saved into his phone. If you really do end up deleting it from the messages and then telling him to stop talking, he won't mention it to you but he will make good use of that photo.

He can't let such a good image go to waste now, can he?

Meanwhile on your end, telling him to shut up about it was not on your mind whatsoever. In fact, you hadn't even considered the possibility of deleting the picture at all!

Which is exactly why you don't say anything.

To which he scoffs, “Mhm, juuuust as I thought. Guessin' you sent that to me on purpose then?” Gojo asks further, hips shifting against the seat of his car.

He really shouldn't have gotten so worked up, he's in the middle of a mostly-empty parking lot for christ's sake! Thank fuck for it though, at least now he can rub one out without anyone seeing him.

A groan is suppressed somewhere in Gojo's throat as he thinks, still waiting for the next chirp of a flimsy explanation from you. Even if there were people around or a car parked directly next to him, he doesn't think he'd care much—not with his beautiful roommate sitting on the phone with him all embarrassed over a delightful mistake.

“N-No, I really didn’t!” You eventually get out, cursing yourself mentally for each time you stutter.

“Mmh..” He hums unintentionally, palm rolling over his sapping cockhead through the fabric. “...Could you send me another one then?” Leaves his lips before he thinks about what he's asking for.

You freeze again.

Sure, you knew Gojo to be rather blunt at times but this? Oh, this was becoming too much all too fast. You've hardly even processed the fact that you sent him such an explicit photo of yourself in the first place!

But the more you think about it, the less embarrassed you feel. It's not like Gojo is shaming you for it. Hell, he almost sounds excited about it.

Which is exactly why you're purring a sweet, “I can show you something better instead.” within the next few seconds.

...

And then two minutes later and you’ve got your phone propped up as you fuck your fingers all desperately into your sopping cunt—Gojo's eyes not daring to break away from his screen for even a second whilst he sits on his end jerking at his flushed cock.

“Tell me how it feels, sweetheart. Talk t'me,” He grunts huskily into the phone, voice thick with arousal.

You're too busy moaning at the tension behind all of this. Masturbating with Gojo right there on the phone with you while he got himself off as well, giving him the most whorish display of you spreading your pussy out on your fingers as you imagined it was him instead.

Whining, "S-Satoruu," out with embarrassment burning your cheeks as if you weren't literally getting off to this.

His hand tries really hard to keep up with the pace at which your fingers were diving in and out of your weeping cunt but Gojo just couldn't help himself.

You were so fucking wet an his hips were jerking up into his hand without thought as he stroked himself faster and faster—only ever stopping to splatter a wad of spit into his hand and wet up his cock more.

His thumb would glide right against his most sensitive vein whenever he saw you rubbing your clit, still trying to match with you.

"Fuck, she's s'pretty," He's whispering out to you, cock sliding hot and fast into his hand before his head thumps back against the headrest of his carseat. "Got all wet like that 'cause of me, didn't you, sweet girl?"

Your fingers nearly clamp up with every heavy syllable that rumbled from deep within his throat, his voice a honeyed baritone you'd never heard from him before now. "Yes, 'Toru.. fuuuck, yes." You're whispering, too shy to bring your tone any louder.

Gojo nods and looks down at himself, the head of his cock blushing with slick arousal while he tugs at himself—hues of bashful pinks 'n embarrassed visible through the camera. Huffing, "Shiiiiit," just under his breath and then pressing his thumb in between the oozing slit of his head, "You're gonna-, hahh... s-show me again when I get home, right?"

Almost expectantly, you nod whilst your head falls back and you feel your orgasm approaching.

Now your roommate was growing even needier—if even possible by this point—and he lets out a moan that drives you right over the edge. Gojo found himself drooling as he watched you cum, knowing damn well that if he was home with you, he'd lap up every drop like he was starving for it.

A groan stings past his slavering lips and he's cumming all over his hand without realizing it, bits of creamy white splashing onto his propped-up phone. Then he's huffing into the phone, "I'm on my way home, keep her nice 'n wet for me."

You innocently bat your lashes, threatening to close your legs as you mumble, "Satoru-, hahh, what about the groceries—"

"I said I'm on my way home," He grunts, "Don't move from that position."

Gulp.

☆ Toji Fushiguro

He goes nonverbal as soon as he opens the text thread with you and hits play on that video. Mouth going dry, cock swelling almost immediately, and throat suddenly in desperate need of clearing—Toji doesn’t think he’s ever seen you in this light before now.

Your roommate is sitting on the other end of the couch you’re currently occupying, both of you having been enjoying one another’s company as you talked about some show on TV.

The conversation had carried rather quickly and at some point you had a relating video you wanted to send him. Too lazy to just show it to him on your phone (due to the absolute filth that was your camera roll), you ended up trying to send it to him instead.

Somewhat lucky for you, you actually notice the fact that you sent him the wrong thing just as he reads it and your fingers scramble across your screen trying to unsend the message. “S-Shit, Toji, please ignore that.” You’re stammering out, “Oh my god—“

“Does your mouth really open this wide?” He asks bluntly, making your whole body go all rigid.

Because instead of your desired choice of media, you actually sent him a lovely two and a half minute video of you sucking on a lengthy dildo. The video was something you’d used in the past when money got a little scarce for you—your whole face was barely visible, just the toy, your pretty manicured fingers, and your slobbering mouth.

You wish you could’ve played it off as a video of someone else but, Toji had been living with you long enough to know based on the first few seconds that it was you.

You swallow the lump of nerves sitting in your throat and glance over at the man, catching his eyes glued to the phone. “…Toji,” You end up humming, unsure of where exactly you’re gonna take this conversation from here.

He rubs a calloused hand over his jaw and tries to bite back a lopsided grin, scarred lips quirking the longer he keeps the video playing. Toji only spares you a moment’s glance before shrugging, “What? I’m just askin’.” He says all too casually.

Which reels you back to his question. Does your mouth really open this wide—what kinda’ roommate asks that after receiving such a video?

Squeezing your eyes shut for a moment, you sigh and then look back down at your phone. “Yes…” You utter slowly, too busy unsending the video to notice the way Toji’s eyes snap over to you again.

You could feel it though, his piercing verdant eyes burning through the side of your head as you avoided the entirety of it. He scoffs softly at your timidness before returning to his screen.

Unfortunately for you, he’d saved that video faster than you even sent it in the first place. Replaying it now, “Mh.” Toji hums deeply, letting a taunting smile spread across his lips as he tilts his head, “S’kinda small though--that toy of yours.”

Mind you, that was the biggest dildo you owned.

Your body was heating up now and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him for a while, just letting his words mingle in the air for a while.

And the fact that he just kept rewatching it and rewatching it and rewatching it—all while sitting just a few feet away from you—was making you nervous as hell. You could hear the sound of yourself gagging and spitting on that toy as if it were the real thing playing from his cell quietly.

Then you feel the couch shift a bit, Toji’s hips moving against it as he makes a very lazy attempt at calming himself down.

Eventually, his phone clicks off and he tosses it onto the other couch. Then he looks over at you and sprawls his legs out wider, erection twitching desperately against his thigh.

You’re slow to look at him and open your mouth to say something but, he’s already beating you to the whole speaking thing.

“C’mere,” Toji hums, patting his thighs as his gaze zeros in on your mouth. Then his tongue darts out to wet his lips and you feel yourself shiver when his voice comes out even lower. “Lemme show you what real dick feels like again.”

…..

Okay, yeah, that’s how you end up on your knees in front of him, fingernails scraping at his thighs while he keeps two big hands on the side of your head to hold you still as he fucks his fat cock into your throat.

You and Toji always had a very heavy yet unspoken sexual tension lingering between you so, it didn’t take much convincing to get you like this.

Staring oh-so-prettily up at him as drool spilled past the same lips he had bulging around his thick shaft—you were letting your roommate use you as he saw fit.

And from the moment he pressed play on that video, he wanted nothing more than exactly this.

“Mhmm, feel that weight against your tongue?” Toji grunts in between his thrusts, earning a messy nod of your head in response before he smirks. “Fuck, you feel me back there? Rubbin’ all against that pretty throat, huh?”

His voice is rough with you, filthy words flying out of him like second nature. You’re just left with bruising knees, an aching jaw, and drenched panties while he buries himself deep into your throat.

The fat, mushroom head of his cock thumps against the back of your throat and you gag on him each time—the feeling only spurring him on. That is, up until your hands tighten their grasp on his thighs and you start tugging your mouth back. You mumble something around him but it only makes him ache against your tongue.

“Where’re you goin’? You need a break?” Toji fills in for you, tugging his hips back just to take his dick into his hand and tap the thick of it all messily against your slippery lips. “It’s a lot better than that lil’ toy of yours, ain’t it?”

You’re nodding before you’re thinking, babbling below him with a cockdrunk hum of, “Uhuh..” as a dewy cobweb of spit and precum hangs sexily between him and your mouth.

His cock smacks against the skin of your lip rudely before he scoffs, “Talk to me, baby. Use your words.”

Pouting for just a moment, you let yourself catch your breath and your eyes dote up on his. “Y-Yes, Toji. It’s so much better,” You breathe out right against his saliva coated length.

Your roommate smiles way too proudly at that, “Yeahh? Y’ready for more or do you need t’go practice again?” He teases. Part of him wonders if you’d actually do that—show him in person how you take some pathetic little toy into your mouth just so he can teach you how to do it properly.

You shake your head  in response to him and merely open your mouth again slowly, keeping your glossed eyes up on his and watching the way he groans at the sight of you.

“Look at’cha,” He sighs, finally angling himself back against your tongue and just barely rutting against it. “Hungry for that dick, huh?”

Your tongue laps around the crown of his oozing cock and you move your lips to messily press against it before sucking lightly.

Answering his own question, “Hah, yeahh ya’ are. Go on then,” His hand meets your jaw and he guides your mouth onto him fully, “Take what you need, doll. Get your fill.”

☆ Nanami Kento & Higuruma Hiromi

Being that the three of you live together, it was only right that you're all in the same group chat. Meaning that anything you send in there is obviously seen by both men as soon as a notification comes ringing about.

Now, you're not exactly the most careful nor particular person in the world and you send things on accident to them all the time.

One time Nanami asked you to send a grocery list... you sent a list of sex toy brands you wanted to buy. Another time Higuruma asked you to send him the link to the recipe you used on a dinner he found particularly enjoyable... you sent him a link to your most recently purchased pair of lingerie.

Of course, anytime these "accidents" happened, both men were usually close enough to exchange a glance at one another—shaking their heads at your carelessness and laughing it all off.

But, when you send three video attachments to the group chat one morning—with the intent of showing them videos of the new apartment complex you were out visiting—the last thing the two men expect to open said videos up to is you slutting yourself out on two dildos, moaning out both of their names in the process.

The moment you realize what you'd done, you tried spamming the group chat with apologetic texts, but the only thing you got in response was a simple "its fine" typed out from Nanami. Now, the obvious lack of proper grammar in his text should've been a little off to you but then again—you were in the middle of apartment fishing, and had no time to ponder on it too long.

Meanwhile, your two overworked roommates had been left in your currently shared place of living to fend for themselves against the immediate rise in their cocks that your little video caused.

...And men that sleep in the same apartment together should jerk off to their ditzy roommate together, right? There's a saying about that out there somewhere, right??

Aw, who cares. It's what Nanami and Higuruma end up doing anyway.

They were already standing in the living room together when they'd received the video and first pressed play, and now the explicit sounds of your moans were filtering through their phone speakers as the video looped on repeat.

Over 'n over, the same moans poured out from their screens at different rates—both men playing one of the three different videos at various times and causing the sloppy sounds to overlap.

Nanami's slacks strained against his thickening cock, the fabric doing very little to conceal the rigid outline that insisted on pressing upward. Then there was Higuruma who stood not too far from him, his pants tenting rather obscenely as the head of his cock revealed itself clearly against the material—going as far as dampening to the pre-cum leaking through.

All this over a couple lil' videos sent by you. What a shame.

Nanami finally shot Higuruma a sidelong glance, "You're leaking." He begins in an already deepened tone, "Didn't think the videos would hit you this hard." Then he moved his free hand to adjust himself, palming the bulge a bit roughly just to ease its prominent ache.

It seemed as though in your absence—and with this kind of thing being such a common occurrence—the two grew quite shameless with one another.

Nanami's shaft merely twitches harder under his hand and Higuruma's snorting at him as his eyes flock down to the blond's crotch, "Says the man whose cock is begging to be freed from its restraints. I bet you've been fantasizing about her riding you just like that dildo."

Reaching down, Higuruma feels for his own length through the fabric, a low groan of pleasure escaping him as he squeezes at his dick as if to restrain himself.

All the while your video played on, your mouth heard popping off of one fake cock just to moan whilst you plopped down the other, "Nngh, Kento, harderr—fuck me harder."

God, you must've been really into it the night this was recorded...

The sound of that naturally earns Nanami's eyes back on the phone, finding it endearing how you chose him to ride. Then he watched as your tongue came drooling out to swirl around the tip of your second dildo—the one he assumes you imagined to be Higuruma's—mouth gaping open as you sucked down on it in one go.

Without another word, Nanami's setting his phone down onto the coffee table, propping it up so the screen faced both he and his equally turned on roommate. The sight of you impaled on one toy whilst you gagged around another, pussy stretched wide 'n glistening, ass bouncing in tandem with every throw of your hips, and mouth slobbering in between your gurgly wet moans had the both of them hot all over.

Higuruma followed suit, turning his phone off for a moment so he could focus on the same thing as Nanami. They moved closer to each other, their shoulders brushing together as heat radiated off their bodies.

Nanami's hand found Higuruma's belt with a quickness that'd certainly let you know this wasn't the first time they'd done this had you been present to witness it. Higuruma mirrored the action on his roommate, unbuckling Nanami's belt with fingers just as efficient as his were.

Slacks hit the almost in sync, followed by boxers of two different shades—Nanami's a dark blue and Higuruma's a solid black—then the lawyer's cock sprang free first. It slaps out against his thigh with a leftly curving force, throbbing visibly though its weighty movements.

Nanami's dick followed shortly after, jumping up straight with all its inches, his veins bulging from deft base to weepy tip.

"Hahh, fuck. She's got us both a mess," Nanami muttered, wrapping a hand around his shaft to stroke slowly as his eyes narrowed onto the screen where you were now switching dildo's—the one designated for him slotting into your mouth with the way you fed it to yourself.

The other length of silicone bobbed loosely in between your legs and it had Higuruma mindlessly nodding along to Nanami's recently spoken words, "Moaning our names like that... shit-, I know she'd love seein' us like this." He husks out just as he began fisting his cock in a tightening grip, trying to match the pace of which you sunk down onto that pretty lil' toy of yours.

The size of both dildos was simply incomparable to the real thing but, then again, how could you know that? You'd never seen either of them bare—at least not for long enough to catch their exact lengths.

Though, there has been a time or two you've walked into one of them while they showered...

Jerking off side by side was alright at first, Nanami's strokes soon began to match Higuruma's rhythm and the sounds of wet skin on skin joined in with your recorded gasps. But within a few minutes, that wasn't proving to be enough for the two men.

Nanami's free hand reached over to the nearby laundry basket—the same basket they'd told you time and time again to stop leaving in random areas such as the living room—and snags up a pair of black panties you'd just worn yesterday. A faint scent of your arousal still clings to the fabric.

Dangling them teasingly in front of Higuruma, Nanami quirks a grin, "Think' she'd mind if we borrowed these?"

Higuruma's cock sobbed from the tip, a weary smirk dragging out across his face. "Nahh, she won't even notice they were used. Wrap 'em around your cock 'n tell me how it feels, won't you?" He requested as he stepped in closer, unintentionally causing their dicks to brush over one another.

Nanami draped your panties over his length, the soft fabric quickly clinging to his skin and soaking up the slick of his pre into its material. Then Higuruma pressed forward to slide his bare cock against the lace-covered one.

The friction was immediate—Nanami's shaft grounding against Higuruma's as your panties added a teasing lil' layer between them, heightening every slide.

Oh, if you walked in and saw this now, you'd probably pass out from the sight. They know you could only dream of seeing and interacting with something so sinful like this.

Higuruma reached over to grip Nanami's hip, pulling tight so that their lengths rubbed fully together, the dampening lace sousing up all that slathered along their skin. Nanami was the first to give a shallow thrust, earning a faint tearing sound from your poor panties as the head of his cock caught on Higuruma's underside just as he rolled himself back.

On the nearly forgotten screen, you were lost in aroused bliss, body arched over as you fucked yourself down harder, whimpering, "Hiro-, mmph! Fuck me full jus' like that."

Their pace quickens to match you, cocks sliding 'n bumping with an increasing sense of urgency. Your panties bunched between them, stretched taut over Nanami's girth and rawly catching at Higuruma's wide tip.

Nanami leans in, his breath hot against Higuruma's ear, "Feel that? Her panties all on my cock, grindin' against yours," He sears, "Fuck, imagine her watching—getting off to the sight of us like this."

The lace drags over Higuruma's frenulum, tugging a rather guttural moan from his throat just as Nanami bucks harder.

To counter the surprising sensation, Higuruma slides a hand up Nanami's back, his fingertips digging in as he counters with a firm little press. "S-Shit, s'too good," He gasps, "Her panties-, you-, fuck... gonna cum if we keep this up."

Their lengths stick 'n slide against one another as they stroke in tandem, precum leaking steadily now and leaving your panties to darken with saturation—each gliding motion occuring smoother-, filthier.

Your video manages to loop again, whimpers and moans echoing louder throughout the room and sending the two of them right over the edge in only a few more minutes. They rutted shamelessly, swollen cocks pulsing and knocking into one another constantly before cum was spilling out of their tips in sync.

Then the apartment door swung open.

Both of their heads turn at the same time—eyes blown wide as sweat ran down from their foreheads.

Batting those pretty eyes of yours, you were quick to extend an accusing finger at where they were connected by lace, "Uhm, are those my panties?"

No shit.

☆ Geto Suguru

You’re met with a pretty picture of his weeping cock almost immediately in response. Even though the initial picture you sent him was an accident, he doesn’t care—almost as if he’d been looking for an excuse to send something like that to you.

He’s just down the hall too, tucked in his room doing God knows what while you sit there with your jaw slack in surprise as you stare at the pornographic image he’d sent to you. Part of you wondered if he genuinely had the picture on standby.

Geto’s dick is gorgeous, unfairly so. You end up sitting there, chewing on your fingernail as you literally admire the sight of his dick thoughtlessly.

He’s got all these staggering inches to him, lengthy fingers wrapped oh-so-tightly around his base, dark raven-shaded happy trail just barely visible from the angle at which the photo was taken, and a profuse blush decorating his handsome face as his head is seen tipped back ever so slightly.

Luckily for you, not only does Geto send you a picture but this image in particular happens to be a live image. You don't even realize until your finger accidentally presses against your screen a bit longer than intended and suddenly a sound hits your ears.

Your roommate who you've been living with for ages now, groans out your name in a raspy baritone that makes your thighs clamp together. You find yourself swallowing profusely, mouth on the verge of drooling as Geto’s thick hand slides upward along his cock and then back down—pearly white cum dribbling past his fat tip just as your name tiptoes past his lips.

You're unsure if you let out a gasp or moan in surprise but a noise of some sort escapes you.

And before you got the chance to come to your senses and realize this was your roommate you were looking at, there was a knock on your door and your heart was jumping out of your chest—phone nearly slipping out of your hand.

"Y-Yes?" You squeak out unintentionally sharply, as if you'd been caught doing something you weren't supposed to be doing.

Taking your response as a nod to enter, your room door swings open and in walks that roommate of yours. Shutting the door behind him with a soft click and wearing the smuggest grin ever, Geto’s violet eyes fall onto you instantly and he already looks feral.

You gulp, "Suguru-"

"Strip." He breathes out heavily, hands already working his shirt up and over his head before he flings it elsewhere. Your eyes only get the chance to rake down his body for a second before you spot his fully hard cock straining against his sweats.

As for his little command, that was roughly what led you to the position you’re in now. Nails scraping at his back as if a silent plea for mercy, legs flailing around his waist, body folded and stretched to his desired position, and the puffy lips of your cunt spread so skillfully around the heavy thickness of his cock.

You don’t really remember how you went from accidentally sending him an explicit picture to this but even if you wanted to complain, you were too busy breathing out sweet moans of his name into his ear for you to care. 

“Suguruu,” Pours out your lips in a syrupy sweet tone that he groans at, all as he stretches you so wide and messy on his dick.

Grunting, “Fuuuck, y’know how long I, hah, wanted to do this?” Geto admits heavily, hips snapping, “Thought about it so many times—you takin’ every inch of me like this. Mgh.. feels even better than I imagined.”

Your brows are pushed together all cutely and you think your breath hitches at his little admission, peering up at him all softly with a stammer of, “You t-thought about this, Sugu?”

Nodding almost drunkenly, “Uhuh, every fuckin’ night. Dreamt of havin’ you spread open f’me like this.” Geto purrs out honestly. Then he leans up a little and glances down, watching your pussy swallow his bulging inches with such greed he can hardly even comprehend. “Oh fuck, look at her. She’s so sloppy f’me, crying all over that cock like she’s been waiting for this too.”

Your lashes flutter at the implication alone, “Hnngh-, I-I haven’t-“

“Oh don’t lie, princess. It’s okay if you thought about it a few times." Geto's cooing out to you all of a sudden, as if he wanted there to be truth in the statement. Voice breath and thrusts growing heavier, "Especially if you were thinkin’ about this while you took that... mgh, slutty lil’ picture—all arched over ‘n soaked..” 

“Sugu," You whine bashfully at him, catching the way his lust-struck eyes flock back up to your face before he flashes a painfully sinful smile at you.

“Gorgeous girl,” He heaves, moving a hand to your lower abdomen just to apply a heat of pressure and make sure you feel his curved cock pepper your sweet spot with nasty jabs, “Wanna have you arched over jus’ like in that picture after this. Hah, yeahhh, wanna’ watch you spread that needy pussy open just for me.”

“Ohmygod-, S-Suguru,” You're eyes are rolling back and although he's not sure if that's because of his words or the way he was letting you get a stuffing feel of his cock—he bites his lip at the sound.

Talking a bit softer to you now, “Ohh, you like this, huh?” Geto asks as he keeps that one hand in place and moves the other to the underside of your thigh and stretches you wider for him.

“Mhmm,” You hum between your moaning in response. It should be a crime for your roommate to be fucking you this good. Perhaps you should have gone to him for this sooner.

You always had an inkling he was a freak in bed but actually experiencing it was making you cream around his cock over and over again—it was almost like he knew your body better than you did.

“‘Course you do,” Geto adds on as he leans up again. Then he's shooting a fat and heavy wad of spit down to your clit, swiping his thumb down to swat at the needy bud, “I knew my pretty lil’ roommate had a slutty side to her.”

Your back arches up just a bit and your words come out almost all in one breath, “Y-You’re just as bad."

Cocking his head to the side now, Geto smiles again, “Think so?”

Now he was determined to fuck you to tears just because you said that. His thumbing picks up and he was spelling his first name out against your dripping clit, his weight starting to press down against you before he hooks an arm under your leg and starts pulling you to meet his thrusts.

“Uhuh,” Is all you could babble out in response to him, nodding so stupidly that you'd be embarrassed right now if you weren't too busy cumming again.

Geto feels it but instead of bringing attention to the nth orgasm he's brought you to, he groans, “I can be worse."

To which you whine prettily enough for him to nearly blow his load into you right then and there, “Mmgh, f-fuck, you want that don’t you? Want me to talk you to filth?” He breathes out softly.

You're nodding again, hands coming up to grab and scratch at any part of his skin you could reach. Each time your nails graze him, he lets out a low hiss as if he wanted more.

Then Geto leans down one last time, rolling his hips down into yours and rubbing the blushing head of his cock all sloppily against your walls before whispering, “Well, s’long as you promise to let me take your next slutty picture, sure.”

perm multi tags (1/2):

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