mwahh 💋

Art from to00fu! ✦.cw : stalking, toxic dynamics, sex

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna seeing you for the first time at that trashy frat party. His eyes are locked on you from across the room, his knuckles white as he grips his red solo cup, completely losing his mind the second he clocks you.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna walking up to you with that cocky, arrogant smirk that usually works every damn time. He tries to pressure you into going upstairs to his room right then and there, but you hit him with such an ice-cold, disgusted look that his ego practically shatters. You just turn your back on him, leaving him standing there looking like a fucking clown.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna trying to save face by circling back with a fresh drink for you, but you don’t even spare him a glance. You step around him like he’s just another piece of trash in the hallway, and he’s left feeling like a total loser, watching your back as you walk away.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna spending the rest of the night pretending to listen to his bros bragging about football, but in reality, he’s tracking your every move. He doesn’t even realize how much of a creep he looks, neck craned awkwardly just to keep you in sight.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna watching you laugh at some other guy’s joke. A sick, stinging envy curls in his chest, making him want to howl.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna waking up the next morning with a pounding head, but he doesn't give a shit about the hangover. You’re the only thing consuming his thoughts.

The police ruled it a suicide. The family and local community demanded an investigation. The police refused to change their ruling.

one day toji was fixing your car, for what? no idea but you know he looks good doing it.

“done staring ma?” you snap out of your traze. “wasn’t staring..” “you were, what do you need?” he pulls something and throws it on the ground his eyes looking down at the inside of your car hood.

you shake your head and he smirks, “think someone is calling you” you hum and nod and flee from the scene to the living room.

it’s your best friend, you answer the phone. “hello?” “heyy girl, we still going to that club?” you hum and peak into the garage from the hallway and whisper. “yeah, not that we’re doing anything bad just.. keep it down.” you chuckle nervously. “toji gets jealous sometimes.. though it’s totally hot-“ “totally not.”

you scoff and roll your eyes. “whatever, it makes it harder for me to go out to party-“ “party?” you groan and hang up when you hear a deep voice, obviously from your fiancé toji.

“no..” he raises his eyebrow and walks up to you and plops down on the couch with a squeak looking up at you. “you leaving me baby?” he squints his eyes his voice deep, his lips poked out, not mad but controlled, he looks so—

you quickly shake your head then he pats his lap and you sit on one thick thigh. his hands rest on your waist “so why you going to a party, ‘n you not telling me bout it?” he looks at you up and down, slowly.

you wince and shrink down, your shoulders tense. “relax ma, I ain’t mad just disappointed.” you look into his eyes, then put your finger on his chin tilting his head up he’s smiling, black marks on his stretched out tank top which absolutely makes him reek of gasoline and on top of that he’s all sweaty. “why do you look so… good.” he smirks and raises eyebrow “what?” “like so.. attractive, when your being assertive, or.. or even fixing my broken down car.”

he scoffs and chuckles and then kisses your collarbone. wrapping your legs around his waist he puts his big rough hands around the nape of your neck pulling you down. your eyes shift quickly, though you’ve been together for over 5 years you still get so nervous.

“because.. I’m toji.” he winks and pulls you in for a kiss his other hand on your waist squeezing. you breathe heavier as he doesn’t let you pull back for air.

your lips sliding off of each other he tilts his head giving him more room to play with you. this kiss feels more like a punishment then just passion, even though his kisses are always so damn passionate.

you whimper and he slows down letting you adjust, making you think that you have control, your nails find his shoulders to dig your nails as you push yourself up further on his lap. he slips his tongue through your already swollen lips, sucking harder he wraps his tongue around yours perfectly not rushed, pulling but definitely not to hard.

your hands wrap his neck feeling his veiny muscular neck, that alone makes you moan. finally he pulls back with a loud pop! and a string of saliva following right after. you gasp for air and breathe heavily “f..fuck” your at a lost of words

“still wanna go to that party?”

you look down and shake your head, he smirks and you nuzzle your face in his neck while he’s rubbing your back. “text her and tell her that then.”

just how you like your men, dominant and submissive.

editors note: we like? 😓 draft has been rotting

my masterlist

simon ghost riley x female reader, 18+

Ghost had never planned to act on the filthy images that flooded his mind whenever you were near. He'd buried those thoughts beneath layers of discipline, telling himself you were off-limits; too young, too bright, with a life stretching ahead of you.

He could be your friend. Or better — your LT.

He could ignore the way you reacted when he caught you staring, the way your laughter danced in the air when you found his deadpan humor unexpectedly funny, and the goddamn wet, rhythmic sounds that seeped through the thin wall each night when you thought no one was listening.

It began innocently enough. Almost. One night, drifting toward sleep, the first soft mewls reached him. Your fingers working that tight little cunt, the sound of your desperate whimpers piercing the darkness. He'd pressed his pillow over his ears, trying to drown you out, but the wet squelching sounds and your soft whines painted vivid pictures in his mind. You, naked and writhing, legs spread wide, your slick glistening on your fingers as you plunged them deeper.

His cock had thickened against his thigh, demanding attention. He kicked off the blankets, palming himself through the thin fabric of his boxers. The more you moaned, the harder he gripped, the wet sounds from next door driving him mad. You cried out — a high, broken sound— and his control shattered. He came hard and fast, soaking his boxers like a fucking teenager. He'd had to sneak to the bathroom to clean up before sleep could claim him.

When Simon is too tired to fuck you or not in the mood to spend twenty-seven minutes getting your cunt loose and wet enough to take his monster cock but you're horny and practically humping his leg on the bed, he has you lay on your back and pull your legs up to present.

And then he kneels on the mattress, rubs your puffy slit and thumbs at your swollen clit until you're leaking slick down your ass crack.

"There we fuckin' go, bunny," he murmurs before spitting on your pussy to make a bigger mess; slick and saliva foaming on your skin.

Then he slowly plunges two long, thick fingers into your sopping hole, sometimes three if your pussy is greedy; feeling your inner muscles tighten around him.

And then he fingerfucks you properly until you're squeezing and squelching around his thrusting digits while your pretty whines and helpless moans make his own cock swell in his pants.

There's a rapidly forming damp patch on the front of his sweats; the smell of precum mixing with your musk. Because his cock didn't get the memo tonight, always aching for your pussy.

And when your back bows and you cry out his name, his free hand tightens on your knee to keep your legs apart, all while his tawny eyes stare at your greedy cunt as you come around his fingers, soaking his hand.

He groans shamelessly, easing his finger out before smacking your puffy, twitching cunt until you whine and shake.

"Si, s'too much," you mewl, pushing at his hand yet grinding your hips for more.

neighbour!simon, fem!reader, explicit.

simon was not the type to enjoy moving house. as much as he were used to moving away for long times from long deployments, simon hated it. he hated how moving required picking up what life he'd established, even if it were small. he didn't understand how people could pack their lives up and ship across the country just like that. and plus, being deployed was different. a home was somewhere he could stay in peace, away from the gunfire.

but even he, too, needed a move here and there. wasn't really a must, but he wanted to downsize—he needed something a little smaller than what he had. it's not like he spent all his time there anyways—he was usually on base, and taking care of a bigger apartment was asking too much.

so he packed up, moved a few blocks away, holed up in a little apartment building. the day he moved in, carrying just a few boxes (he didn't have much to begin with), he couldn't help but notice the person right beside his door.

cute. you were wide-eyed and cute. stared at him across the hallway before sheepishly asking him if he minded moving out of your way so you could get to your apartment. lo and behold, you opened the door beside his and slipped in.

simon didn't give it much thought, to be honest. didn't really care how cute you were. he wasn't the type to want anyone, let alone a sweet little bunny. he doubted you could defend yourself if you joined a fistfight with a gun—he needed someone who could protect themselves while he was gone on long deployments.

but you thought differently. walked past his apartment extra times a day, hoping you'd catch him on the way out so you could get a better look at his biceps, or the scar on his cheek, dragging down to his lip. the bear was handsome as hell.

you lengthened your grocery lists, made sure the bags were a tiny bit too heavy, just in case you might see him in the parking lot and ask him for help.

you knocked on his door in the afternoon, shyly looking up at him with those big doe eyes, biting your lip and asking him, "um, sir, do you mind helping? my sink is leaking... and i just don't want to... bother anyone else."

simon had been pissed, the first time he had met you. he always heard some kind of excited prattling from through the thin walls, as you excitedly rambled to a friend. you just talked, and talked, and talked—simon's ears were going to fall off, subject to your loud conversations through the walls.

so maybe, if it shut you up, he'd entertain your silly little requests.

so here he was, under your sink, on his back, his shirt under his head as he'd taken it off.

(you'd increased the AC in your room, hoping he'd take his shirt off. sneaky little thing.)

you sat on the counter, uncaring about what he was saying about your sink. he kept talking and talking about the mechanics of it so you could fix it for yourself next time, but you were hooked on the slight rasp of his voice and the way his abs flexed as he tightened your pipes.

then simon was done, and you grabbed his arm as he sat up. you didn't want him to leave, not so soon."sir? can i pay you? um... don't have much money on me to give you, but i could give you something else."

and fuck him, you were so needy. felt your hand on his arm tighten every time he moved as if to leave. simon knew he was falling straight into a trap, and if he was being honest, he's not sure he minded. he sighs, the crease between his brows deepening. "'yer alright, luv. ain't gonna ask y'for anythin'."

you pouted. like a sad, kicked bunny. pouted at him with wide eyes and flattened ears, tail twitching unhappily. "please? stay a bit, let me... um. i can make you something to eat. cookies? i make really good cookies."

simon was really good at dodging negotiation tactics. really good at surviving the harshest forms of torture. but he hadn't been trained to dodge the torture suddenly straining in his pants as he took you in, pretty pink frills on your skirt, your thighs which dissapeared under the fabric. so he stayed, sat there whilst you busied about the kitchen, whipping together some cookies.

when they were done, you presented them to him, real giddy, jumping on your heels. "here, try one."

before he could reach for one, you sat yourself in his lap, right on top of him, offering the cookie to his lips. simon grunts, his hand instinctively moving to grip your hip. "watch y'rself, luv. don' wanna start somethin' you ain't gonna finish."

shame, that you were so confident, really. maybe then you wouldn't have ended up grinding on his lap like a bitch in heat. maybe then he wouldn't have bent you right over the counter, pushing your pretty skirt up to leer at the sopping wet patch of underwear over your cunt. "mh, she's real pretty, eh, luv?"

you were so confident up until you came on his fingers. simon didn't even give you a second to think, his fingers pressing deeper, squishing against your gummy walls. "c'mere, darlin', jus' wanna have some more."

you were losing your mind, hands gripping against the table, cheek mushed to the wood, your ears barely registered the thumping of the chair's legs every time he forced his fingers back into you. then it stops, and before you can whine, the sound of his fly unzipping reaches your ears.

in one smooth stroke of his cock, the rest of your confidence dissipated. the stretch burned, like he was splitting you in half, god, he was too fucking big. "s-sir, sir, it's too big..."

"hush, take it. y'asked for this, bun," he grunts, practically folding you over, his hips forcing against yours, his hand on your jaw. his thumb rubs over the corner of your mouth, swiping up the drool that slips from your mouth.

poor thing. you shouldn't have poked the bear, but you just couldn't help it, could you? craved the way his cock filled you up so good. he was going to ruin you for everyone else.

"ah, m'gonna fill you right up," he grunts out into your ear, heavy breaths puffing against your skin.

"ah, fuck... yes, please. please, sir, want you..." you're cut off by a desperate moan as he thrusts into you heavily, his bodyweight pressing against you. the chain around his neck, dog tags, press into the skin on your back, branding against your skin, leaving a little red mark, pressing his name into you.

when he comes inside you, he huffs, rubbing your clit gently as he pulls out, softening cock resting against your thigh. "good fuckin' girl."

(you may just have to poke the bear a little bit more.)

Whoever (m) x BlackGn!reader

❀~900 words, smut/explicit sexual content(18+), dirty talk, overstimulation, dubcon (just to be safe), degradation, rough sex, pet names/name calling(e.g., slut, sweetheart, and baby), condomless sex (wrap it), etc❀

💌: I like the first version I wrote more... might not be the same next time you see it.

་༘࿐18+ 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻𝓼 𝓓𝓸 𝓝𝓸𝓽 𝓘𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓽་༘࿐

You try to tilt your hips, a desperate, fluttering movement intended to throw him off—to angle away so he stops hitting that spot, the one that’s got your legs shaking and your brain buzzing with a static charge. ​

But he catches it. Of course he does. ​

"Where you runnin’ to?" he rasps, his voice a low, vibrating growl that shivers through your spine like a physical blow. His fingers—calloused, thick, and mapped with those heavy, prominent veins—dig into the soft meat of your hips, squeezing the skin as he anchors you to the mattress.

"Thought you liked it right there." ​He slams back in, a deliberate, bone-deep thrust that drives his entire weight into that tender, aching spot that’s already got you fucked dumb.

You gasp, your hands scrabbling for something to hold, anything, but he’s relentless. He keeps your hips locked down under the crushing pressure of his palms and grinds into it like he’s trying to ruin you from the inside out.

​The sound of your joining is obscene—a wet, rhythmic slap slap slap of skin meeting skin. The friction has turned the slick heat of your arousal into a thick, creamy lather that smears across your thighs and webs between you with every stroke.

​"You think I didn’t notice? How you squeeze me every time I hit it? Thought you could hide that?" The words are hot and filthy against your neck. "Nah. That spot's mine now. You hear me? I’m gonna keep hitting it until you can’t remember your own name." ​

He pulls back just a fraction, the wet, suctioning plop of the air hitting your joining echoing in the room. He leans back on his heels, a dark, amused smirk etching on his face as he looks down at where he’s buried. The thick, pale cream of your arousal is lathered white against his shaft, dripping in heavy, slow beads onto the rumpled sheets. ​

"Look at that," he coos, his voice dripping with sweet condescension as he reaches down to trace the mess. "Look how messy you are for me. Just a little puddle of need, aren't you? All that talk, and you’re already out of it. Poor thing... you can't help yourself when I'm inside you, can you?"

gulps first time in a while writing smut, please don’t hate…

“You’re doing so well. Fuck, keep your tongue out juuust like that.” Sukuna purred, looking down at you. You were planted on your knees, both hands placed innocently in your lap, gaze locked onto crimson eyes.

For the past hour, he had been teaching you how to give a good blowjob. You were totally fucked out, completely forgotten how you ended up in this situation—especially with a man who had a reputation for having girls running out of the room, bursting into tears.

But you didn’t care about that, and besides, you were getting the hang of it. At first, you didn’t even know what to do with your hands or mouth when his dick was right in front of your face. You wouldn’t admit it, but it scared you. Not because of anything bad, but because of how big it was.

It was as big as your face; it was at least eight inches or more, and you’ve never seen a cock this big- well, at least face to face. You may or may not have watched a bunch of videos of guys jerking off on Twitter, but seeing it in real life. You couldn’t deny that it made you nervous.

Sukuna bit his lip while a tattooed hand gripped your hair tightly; the other hand held the base of his cock, slapping the tip against your flattened tongue. His abs flexed at the sight. Your pupils were blown with lust, and drool was dripping down the side of your chin. You looked like a slut.

What made Sukuna even more turned on by this whole situation was that you were the shy, nerdy girl in his class, and when you first asked him to teach you how to give a blowjob, for the first time in his life, he was stunned.

No one would've thought you would ask something along those lines. But you wanted to learn, plus you also wanted to try it out for the first time. But with the way Sukuna was groaning your name like he was getting the best dick sucking of his life. It seems you may not need this teaching.

"Let's see how pretty you look with my cock on your face. Hm?" You nodded rapidly as your tongue slid back into your mouth. Sukuna smirked, watching as you closed your eyes when he dragged his cock around your face.

“Enjoying this?” You murmured, peeking one eye open to stare up at the pink-haired man. He shrugged, moving his length to the side of your nose.

“I don’t know, am I?” He teased, flashing pearly white teeth. The same grin you always saw when he was being egotistical—you tried your hardest not to roll your eyes.

“Seems like it…”

Sukuna doesn’t respond. Instead, He placed his hand flat around his cock while the other hand that was gripping your hair moved slowly down to your neck, holding onto it tightly. Not enough to cut your airway, but enough where you felt the rough pressure in his grip.

“Shh and be a good girl.” He began to thrust into his hand. It was slow in the beginning, his gaze heavily locked on you. As if he was admiring the way his cock looked, rubbing against your skin.

Sukuna couldn’t deny that this was the kinkiest shit he’s ever done with a girl. All the other times he had fucked someone, it was either too vanilla or the girls wouldn’t be into the stuff he was into. They’d either decline or think he was weird.

But now that he’s thinking about it, he may have found the one for him. Who knew the nerdy girl could be as kinky as he is?

You were completely cock drunk again—mind hazy, your thoughts tangled until they barely made sense anymore. Eyes fluttering shut, your mouth gapped open as you withdrew your tongue, slurping and licking the side of Sukuna's length that was right in front of your mouth.

His massive hand roamed all across your face as he continued to thrust faster against your face. His Eyebrows furrowed—lifting up- while his plump lips parted slightly.

You hollowed your cheeks, and the feeling alone could’ve made Sukuna cum in an instant. You whined against his cock, moving a hand up the front of his leg; the tip of your nails dug into his skin, making him hiss.

It was so messy. Spit all over your face, your hair sticking against the side of your cheek. The sound of him groaning, you slurping all over his dick and your muffled whimpers filled the room. It looked and sounded like something straight out of a porn film, or the kind of scene you’d only expect in a feverish dream.

“Who knew you were such a slut for cock.” He murmured, his voice raspy and filled with lust. You opened your eyes at his degradation. Peering through your lashes, your eyes caught onto his. You didn’t feel any sense of shame. If anything, you felt more turned on.

Without thinking, you moved your hand between your thighs, pushing your panties to the side, not long before you begin to rub slow circles around your clit, the sensation immediately made you whimper against him.

“Fuck, you're so hot,” Sukuna rasped, quickly moving his length from your face—which makes you whine in protest. Holy shit, you were cock drunk for him.

“Hey! Wha… What are you doing?” You questioned, as an eyebrow raised, flopping down both hands on your lap.

He chuckled at your neediness, pumping himself right in your face. Pre-cum spilled out from his pink tip, and you couldn’t help but want to clean up all the salty-sweet slick.

“You look pretty with my cock on your face.” His teeth sank into his swollen bottom lip. “Now I want to see how good you look with my cum on it.”

armed with aprons, mittens and cooking guides galore, house husband nanami kento can handle anything, including his wife's aching body!

slow jazz greets your ears when you walk through the front door, a telltale sign nanami must be baking, swaying his hips to the gentle rhythm.

while he's looking suave, hair parted neatly with the chiikawa hair clip you got him, you're a walking train wreck. mascara smudged and lip liner fading, your husband will surely say something when he sees you.

the shoe rack long forgotten, you kick your heels off in front of the couch. a little trail of clothes follows from the door to the kitchen— blazer, blouse, pencil skirt and work id.

you're left bare in your stockings and undershirt. nanami gets the honor of taking them off.

"long day at work, hm?"

you mope over to him, face finding purchase in the crook of his neck as you groan. he comfortably ignores how your makeup is smudging on his apron.

"i'll take that as a yes," he chuckled.

you stay like that for a while, breathing in his sandalwood and flour scent, swaying together. he never pushes you away on days like these. just lets you sink into him, occasionally talking the days worries away.

he distracts you with cooking recipes, talking your ear off until dinner is in the oven.

only then does he lay you out on the couch, gripping your plush thighs gently. the hard lines around his eyes appear, a slow, analytical look blooming in them. "you look tired," he starts.

you snort. "yeah, go figure."

he gives a mumbled apology. "what i meant was, do you need some help distressing?"

"distressing" could mean a lot of things to nanami kento; running a bath, doing extra chores, ordering take out. anything to quell his dutiful wife's pains.

today, it meant emptying that sweet brain of yours completely.

being pregnant with toji’s baby made you wetter cw: nsfw ⸝⸝ pregnant s​e​ ​x

you were only in your second trimester, but toji insisted that you stayed at home. he didn’t want to impose any risks on your child.

so all you did at home was clean, cook, and watch TV. it was nice for the first week, but after that, you were bored out of your mind.

nights like this where he came home extra late made it even worse. especially when you were needy.

“toji, i missed you.” you buried your head in his chest the second he walked in. 

he chuckled. “missed you too baby,” he said. he tried to move to put his stuff down but you wouldn’t let him.

“hmm? someone needy?” he smirked, his lips brushing against yours.

you nodded eagerly, way past the point of words.

he kissed you hungrily like you were his oxygen. his large hands cupped your cheeks and he led you all the way to your shared bedroom.

“jesus christ,” he muttered when he ripped off your panties.

“you’re soaked. is it the hormones?”

you nodded sheepishly, and he grinned at you.

“i don’t even think i need to prep you,” he swiftly pushed two fingers inside you. you whined and he kissed your cheek.

“patience baby.”

he curled his fingers and you moaned, gripping his bicep.

“tojiiii.”

“i got you, don’t worry,” he whispered.

you rocked your hips absentmindedly, fucking yourself with his fingers. he watched you silently, occasionally curling them.

“i think you’re ready.”

you helped him out of his pants and boxers. his cock sprung out: hard, flushed pink, and leaking of precum.

you licked your lips in anticipation and spread your legs a little more.

“someone’s eager,” he teased, pressing his tip at your entrance and spreading your slick everywhere.

“you look so pretty like this,” he muttered, “belly all swollen, glowing, pregnant with my baby. you even got your legs wide open like you want me to breed you all over again.” 

“toji, stop being a fucking tea—”

he slammed into you without warning. you were so full. his thick cock bullied your walls as he rocked slowly inside you.

“mmm, being pregnant with my baby has you soaked huh?”

you couldn’t think straight. he stretched you out so good all you could do was nod.

his balls slapped against your ass with each thrust, hitting your g spot. you were close. he was balls deep inside, fucking you without any plans of stopping.

“you’re close sweetheart? let go f’me.” at his command, you gushed all over his cock and he groaned your name.

he was soaked from his abs down. you felt his cock twitch and he followed after you, his seed spilling inside you.

“again,” you begged.

he grabbed you by your thighs and pulled you closer to him. you wrapped your legs around his neck. somehow, at this angle, he was even deeper. your thighs shook and he fucked you hard and fast, chasing the high once again. he teased your nipples with his fingers and whispered filthy things.

“pussy’s s’good, baby”

“greedy girl, just desperate for my cum.”

“need you to cream all over my cock one more time pretty.” 

“sooo tight f’me mama.”

by now, you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve come.

the room was hot and smelled like sex, and the sound of skin slapping were the only things keeping you from tapping you out. 

that and toji’s voice lingering in your ear.

“c’mon baby, you’re not giving up now, are you?”

you shook your head.

“i know that’s right. come for daddy, just one more time.”

it was safe to say he didn’t actually mean just one more.

your friends always lower their voices when they ask, leaning over the cafe table with a nagging sense of concern, eyes tracking the faint, reddish-purple blooms peeking out from the collar of your shirt.

"is everything okay at home?"

"is he... violent to you?"

they whisper, because to strangers, ryōmen sukuna is a guy that could break someone in two just for breathing wrong. they look at his mountainous physique and immediately assume he’s striking you—that the wine-stained rose traces under your clothes are from hands raised in anger, because what else does a monster do with his strength?

you just stay quiet, pulling your sleeves down, given that you can't exactly tell them that the truth is so much more embarrassing.

because how do you explain that these deep, hand-shaped marks come from him getting a sudden, overwhelming rush of affection while you are just... existing?

the second you walk through the front door, he doesn't even let you take off your shoes before his thickset arms are securing your body against him. his face is entirely vacant, his expression as deadpan as if he were reviewing a tedious financial ledger while hauling you impossibly close; the desperate zeal of his hug making your lungs burn for every silver of air

“i missed you, baby,” the words are an incredibly sweet confession—completely at odds with his flat, menacing demeanor as he buries his face into the crook of your neck.

sukuna possesses absolutely no concept of his own magnitude, and when these sudden surges of intense adoration overtake him, his massive hands just react by pure instinct. his thick fingers dig deep into the meat of your arms, squeezing and kneading the flesh while he stares down at you with his crimson eyes tracing heart shapes. it is pure agony for your skin, a sharp ache that you know will turn into dark blooms by tomorrow.

“my pretty girl,” he mumbles, his lips caressing your skin in messy nuzzles before he sinks his sharp teeth down on your shoulder in a brutal display of fondness that makes you whine and arch into his chest; yet he gives your body no room to escape the extreme weight of his affection. his lower hands come up to cup your face, big thumbs pressing into your cheeks to hold you still while he overindulges in your scent.

"please." you plead, hips circling gently, left eye twitching as his cock hits so deep that it makes you see and feel stars. it hurts so good — your body not used to sitting its full weight over nanami's length. he's pressing against your cervix, making it nearly impossible to gain the strength to actually ride him like you know you can.

still, that's not why you're begging. you don't care if he shows you mercy, but you just know that you need more. "hit me. slap me, please."

"what?" his voice is shot — deep and heavy in his throat as he licks over his lips in passing. his red-bloomed chest rises and falls with a vengeance, pink nipples shaded a deeper hue of red as your manicured claws dig and grasp at his hard pecs.

"mmm— i need it."

"no, you don't, and you sound crazy."

"noooooo," you let your head hang heavy between your shoulders, hair everywhere, and falling into your blurry gaze. his thick, strong hands are tight on your hips, digging bruising wells into the gathered flesh. it's as far as he'll go — the most pressure he's willing to give you. "just once. on the cheek."

"i would never," he bites like it's his final prayer, aiding you with a buck of his hips. his fingers dip deeper as they bear your weight, giving him just enough space to make you really feel it.

"please! b-but i'm begging,"

"absolutely not."

"it's the only way i can c—

"no, it's not. i'm not a fool,"

you finally break, tears slipping down your cheeks as he fucks into you with shallow thrusts. the room is hazed over in lust and sweat, but you're so close to your peak, yet so far. he can go on and on like this — never losing stamina, waiting until you come undone before he even has the nerve to think about his own release.

only, something is different this time. your touch is strong and sure of itself, eyes screwed shut as you try to hold back. you can't for much longer, and he can see as much.

with one final, broken plea, you turn fists in his skin, bearing your teeth as you seethe down at him. "fucking hit me."

"is this what you want?" finally, he's giving in — his eyes crazed and bloodshot as his thrusts grow mean, almost like he's punishing you with his animalistic need. the sound of skin slapping skin is deadly and heated, bouncing off the walls and the ceiling before making its way back to you. every breath is measured and shaking, every gaze on fire as your wet cunt closes in on him, shuddering dangerously, squeezing around him like you never want him to leave.

"giveittome," it's all one word — jumbled and messy, sticking to your lips like dripping honey. it's a stare-off, one that you two would never speak of again, yet dream of every single night. "what? are you not man enough?"

he doesn't speak — not that it would give you a further clue to his state of mind. nanami never lets himself get too worked up when you poke his nerve, but something about this sensation... you're squeezing down on his cock, naked skin a sea of wonder as your breasts rise and fall in heated breaths.

he reaches up from his hold on your waist, veiny hand snaking around your neck where he presses just slightly. "I think you know the answer to that," he bites, heart racing as he slaps an open palm across your cheek, sending your head to the side against the surprisingly heavy force.

the pain is searing and its immediate, making your cunt flutter something mean against him — clamping down so hard that he can't move without drawing a painful breath.

"yeah? mhm, like that?" he grunts, shoving two fingers in your cheek to yank your head back to where he can see your dripping, wrecked gaze. with a pop, they withdraw, and dripping with your own spit, he slaps you again, across the same tingling cheek, biting his lip when your back arches and vision whites out.

he watches you cum like that, harder than you ever have before, and wonders.... why didn't he do this sooner?