Random Thoughts On Nanami Kento :

fly on the wall sukuna x f!reader x gojo

synopsis: when your best friend leaves you alone at a party, someone else decides to take his spot

content warning: mdni, DUBCON, BABY TRAPPING, gojo is lowk yandere guys, angst and smut, modern college au, jealousy, drinking, frat parties, sukina being a manwhore, gojo is OBSESSED with you, backshots, unprotected piv sex, creampie, aftercare, pregnancy

"Wanna go find a bedroom?" A pretty giggle and a hand on his bulging bicep, lipstick stuck to his neck and staining his collar. His low laugh, deep and rough.

And none of it was belonged to you.

"Whatever," Sukuna grunted, letting some drunk girl with dyed hair drag him away while you watched from the corner of the couch, sipping on beer and wishing you had said no to coming with him to this stupid frat party.

He was your best friend - that you happened to be desperately in love with.

You weren't delusional. Didn't think him asking you here was a date. Just a way to celebrate your final semester at college, the last few weeks before graduation. But you'd kind of convinced yourself that with a little liquid courage, maybe you'd kiss him. Play it off like a drunk mistake if he hated it and just hope that he didn't.

Your last bits of hope dried up as he disappeared up the stairs.

That was just the way it went.

Sukuna fucked another girl the same way his scowl and chuckles fucked with your feelings. You were used to it after years of crushing and yearning uselessly after him.

You were too busy wallowing in your own self-loathing to notice the guy plopping down next to you on the couch.

"What kind of host would I be to let a pretty girl drink by herself?" A familiar voice leaned over to purr in your ear, poking your cheek just so you'd swat his hand away.

"I'm about to leave, Gojo," You lied, leaning over to set your drink down on his coffee table. A rich and relentless flirt who wasn't used to not getting his way. His parents could probably buy the university if they wanted to, a six-figure job just waiting for him the second he walked off stage with his degree next month.

Sukuna hated him. You were mostly indifferent. He was like a fly buzzing around, landing on you every time you forgot about him. They'd been in a couple fights though, over dumb boy shit, usually, playing the same sport and at all the same parties and clubs.

You were pretty sure any interest Gojo has in you was directly correlated to his desire to piss Sukuna off.

"I need a beer pong partner," He complained, twirling a strand of your hair around his finger.

"I'm sure there's fifty other girls here who'd be happy to," You rolled your eyes, about to push off the couch but forgetting his leg was there, accidentally grabbing his muscled thigh before you ripped your hand away.

"I don't want them," He pouted. "I want you."

The wrong guy felt a lot more like the right one when he was saying stuff like that.

You just wanted someone to like you.

"Fine, but just one game," You reluctantly agreed, gritting your teeth.

And you meant it, alright?

Except when you won, and he picked you up, spinning you around by your waist and peppering your cheeks with kisses while bragging about you to everyone listening about how good his girl was?

Whatever tethered you to your sensibility snapped and you kissed him back. Missing his cheek to plant a messy one on his lips.

And the next thing you knew, you were in his bedroom, your panties and your party dress ripped off, your face buried in a pillow as he delivered the meanest backshots you ever received, his cock slamming into your soaking cunt every three seconds when you stammered out his name.

"F-fuck, oh God, S'toru," You whined, your voice weak and muffled as his hips smacked into your ass again. Everything felt too warm inside, the pleasant fuzz in your chest from earlier turning into a blazing fire.

He abruptly pulled out, massive hands flipping you over, clumsily pushing your plush thighs up to your chest, admiring the connection between you when he shoved his thick cock back in, inch by inch disappearing into your heat.

"So pretty," He hummed, drawing little patterns you were too fucked out to process on your skin with his thumb. "All mine now, yeah?"

You weren't listening. Weren't even sure you were on the same planet anymore. Just lose in the haze of him thrusting inside you, the way his bright eyes held yours hostage, glittering even in the low lamp light, how his sweet cologne disarmed and enchanted you.

"Mhm," You nodded, vaguely aware the biggest dick at school has fucked you dumb on his own stupidly large cock, and not even able to bring yourself to despise it.

You just wanted more of him.

"You wanna be my girl?" He teased, one of his hands sliding down to paint the same patterns over your clit, barely sweeping over it just to make you jolt.

"Pl-please," You pleaded, face scrunching up and lips parting, unsure if you were begging him to make you cum or just make you his.

But he did both.

Massing your sore and needy bud with just enough pressure to push you over the edge, but this time, he was painting your cunt white, cumming right as you cried out, the distinct feeling of something warm and wet leaking down your thighs and onto his sheets before you even finished coming done.

He got up to clean you, his cock still pretty and pink and swollen as it bobbed with every step, cum and slick coating it as he hurried to grab a washcloth from the attached bathroom. He ran it under warm water, using it to wipe you up, throwing you some of his clothes, a t-shirt and some boxers that were too big before sliding on a pair too and crawling back in bed with you.

You were awkward, cautiously glancing back at him and blinking hard as you pulled his shirt over your head, not sure what other options you really had considering your dress was reduced to scraps in the heat of the moment.

But then he pulled you back against his chest, snuggling you against him like you were a couple and not just, well, whatever you actually were.

"Shouldn't you go back out there?" You mumbled, starting to pull away before his hand tightened on the back of your neck, keeping you in place with a pout.

"Nah," He dismissed. "I'd rather be here."

You didn't know why you stayed, other than the embarrassment of walking out in Gojo's clothes. You'd probably have to creep out in the morning, hoping everyone else was too wasted or hungover to notice, or get him to give you a ride. But that wasn't really an excuse for cuddling back with him, your leg thrown over his and your arms wrapped around his side. Dozing off on his soft mattress, his fingers dancing over your spine and tracing soft shapes soothing you to sleep.

Banging woke you up, someone pounding on his door.

It could've been thirty minutes or three hours, the party reduced to a dull hum in the background, huffing as you buried your face back against Gojo's warm chest.

"Open the fuck up," Sukuna's voice boomed through the door, his fist slamming against the wood veneer like he was hoping to splinter it.

Your blood ran cold.

Gojo was already awake, a crooked smile spreading across his face while he listened to Sukuna shouting your name from the hall.

"Go back to sleep, baby," He murmured softly to you, pressing a kiss to your forehead before untangling your limbs.

He didn't cover you with a blanket though.

You wondered if he wanted Sukuna to see what you looked like wearing his clothes.

You rolled away from the door, pressing your face to the pillow so you wouldn't have to know what sort of face Sukuna made when he found out you betrayed him.

"What's up, man?" Gojo casually greeted, the door swinging open with a creak after he flipped the lock.

"What the fuck-" Sukuna's harsh voice stopped the second he saw you in the bed, curled up in Gojo's shirt and (pretending to be) asleep.

"Is there a problem?" He wryly taunted, and you could just picture his face, the glint in his eyes and the way his white brow would arch up.

"I'll fucking kill you," Sukuna growled.

"Can it wait until tomorrow? Don't wanna wake sleeping beauty up," Gojo mocked.

He didn't wait for Sukuna to reply before slamming the door shut in his face.

You didn't say anything. Just let him pull you back against him. And when you woke up the next morning? He had fresh clothes and breakfast delivered, letting you eat in his bed and insisting he'd have to wash everything anyway.

"Wanna go on a date today?' He asked while you were using his shower, peeking his head through the curtain with an easy smile.

"What?" You blinked, trying to work out if this was just also part of his plan to get back at Sukuna or if he was serious.

"I was thinking the zoo, or maybe that new bakery that opened up?" He proceeded to throw out options like you'd already said yes, and somehow, you found yourself in the passenger seat of his car two hours later with his hand on your thigh and his chatter in your ears about what souvenir he was going to buy you.

Pretending not to feel the weight of your phone in your pocket, switched to do not disturb so you wouldn't have to deal with the hundred texts and calls from Sukuna about you sleeping with the enemy.

Part of you wondered if there wouldn't be any, if he'd just discard and be done with you entirely now.

But when Gojo was grinning and laughing with you, when he touched you and planted kisses all over your skin, you were starting to think it might be a trade worth making.

Except, uh, after a few weeks of the honeymoon period passed and the day your period was supposed to start came and went with it, and a pregnancy test confirmed what you dreaded.

Fuck.

It wasn't until you told him the next day with tears in your eyes that you realized there might be something worse than him not wanting your baby. It was the possibility he planned for it.

"I'm really gonna be a dad?" He grinned, no what-are-we-gonna-do, no how-did-this-happen, not an ounce of regret.

"Satoru, can you be serious for two seconds? This is a big deal," You scolded, but he was already placing your hand on your stomach.

"I am serious," He teased, drawing a heart over our belly button this time. "I'll take care of you and our baby. You wanna tell my parents first? Or should we get eloped?"

You were wrong. He wasn't a fly.

He was a spider.

And you were just the unfortunate bug wrapped up tight in his web.

figured you out

1900 words. pining. possessive behaviour. sexual tension. obsession. light stalking.

{Dedicated to @mythblossoms and @spiderlilypetals aka the enablers of my mental instability}

Note: this entire thing is me basically calling out @rose-tinted-kalopsia, @unluckywisher, and @starmocha for setting off a Caleb-sized inferno in my brain and keeping the fire going for weeks now. All of you on my feed combined with the lyrics of this song are entirely to blame so here’s me getting Caleb out of my system (liar) xoxo

The barrier between focus and obsession was glass-thin and shaped like a trigger. One decision, one small flick of a finger away from shattering. 

Obsession was an itch, fleeting, temporary. But focus? Focus was ambition, determination, winning.

That’s why Caleb had always been a creature of restraint, the very picture of self-control. As a boy, when he set his sights on something, he never burned with want. Wanting was purposeless.

Instead he would set his focus on whatever it was — sweets, trinkets, secrets, toys — until he found a way to make it his. Until he carefully maneuvered the object of his desires right into his little grasp. 

Caleb didn’t wish, he didn’t desire.

He conquered. 

Only this time, his focus wasn’t on a conquest. It wasn’t on a mission, or a lab data report, or a secret he could use to his advantage. It wasn’t power or strategy or survival. 

It was you. 

From the very beginning, you’d been the object of his focus. Your affection, your thoughts, your wit, your emotions. Everything that made you tick, he’d picked up and studied like the rarest gem.

And now? Now your fingerprints were sewn permanently into his heart, holding together the thing that beat in his chest. Now, he was light years apart from the boy he’d been, and yet you still gripped it tightly, your hand too small to keep that shriveled and charred, bloody mess together.

But the taste of your laughter, the sound of your skin, the feeling of your scent? Every moment of disorientation you created within him only served to reinforce his lifelong focus on you.

Military training, tests, experimentation chambers, nothing upended the center of his gravity like you.

From the dim hallway, Caleb watched you. His gaze — deep purple with motes of gold, an iris bloom washed in sunset — mapped the coordinates of your smile, measured the radar of your thumping pulse, calculated the precise trajectory of your movements as you fluttered around the small group of Hunters you were meeting with at the Association for a late night UNICORNS debrief.

You’d never understood entirely how you affected him. No one did, he’d made sure of it. Not your mutual friends growing up, not the woman who’d raised you, not the laughing fool you were talking to right now. Not even your Hunter partner across the table from you.

Caleb knew you better. Treated you better. He always had.

It’s because none of them actually took the time to see you, not really. Not like he did. And no matter how far apart you two got, that would never change. 

You were an enigma to them, a cluster of ridges and buttons in a cockpit, unfulfilled in an amateur's grasp. Dormant without expert handling and care. 

But Caleb had long ago solved you — your wants, your vulnerabilities, your secrets, your fears, your weaknesses. He'd seen you bared before him and had figured you out. Down to the very core in your heart.

Even within the darkest depths of the universe, with no sense or feeling, he would know exactly where to trail each of his fingers. How much pressure to apply to every delicate divot. The precise combination and rhythm to elicit a response.

The way he could guide you, command you, the way he could make you take flight for him? It would be… explosive.

The melody of your sudden laughter extinguished the heat that had started to lick its way down his body as he watched you give them the version of yourself they expected. Amiable, innocent, polished. 

As your meeting came to an end and you and your colleagues stood to leave, the shadows shifted around Caleb as he pushed off from the wall he’d been leaning against. Pulling the DAA clearance card that had kept the door behind him open, he took a step into the corridor that would lead to his quiet exit. 

Only he knew where your smile dented into your cheek. Only he knew the cadence of your breaths when you spoke. Only he knew what you looked like when your guard was truly down. When you sighed, cried, hurt, and slept. Only he was worthy of seeing it.

Only Caleb had forged himself into a man worthy of loving you.

The night was thick with fog when he watched you step out of the Hunter’s Association, your shadow dancing across the concrete under the warm glow of the street lamps.

As you parted ways with your colleagues, Caleb studied the elegant line of your throat, the way it expanded and contracted around the hum of your voice.

He knew the exact shape of it by memory, — all those times you'd looked up at him to smile at him, to talk to him, to argue with him — the softness of the delicate skin there, the way it would feel under his palm, under his mouth. Fluttering, warm, alive.

He wasn’t supposed to be here, not away from Skyhaven, not in a darkened alleyway by your workplace where the lamp light barely even reached.

But as the sound of your footsteps ticked over the hum of the city, as each of your movements brought you closer to the corner of the building, to him, the oxygen funneling into his brain seemed to thin, and the rational part of his mind, his focus, took a backseat. 

The sight of you walking toward him was so right, so inevitable that Caleb barely even realized how far out of the shadows he was leaning, how quickly he’d snapped himself back into your orbit. 

He, the metal, you, the magnet.

The fist of his right arm clenched as he forced himself to stay in place, to stop leaning toward you on the off chance the sweetness of your skin would enter his nose. The connection between you was so physical, pulled so taut, that he almost couldn’t believe you'd never sought to close the distance, that you’d ever accepted his death so easily.

That had always been your biggest mistake, though. Thinking that he’d ever allow something as trivial as mortality to sever what bound you to him. 

He shouldn’t reach for you. He knew that. And yet, as you closed the distance, he stepped closer. Just enough to feel your presence pull against him.

His evol stirred, faint but insistent, brushing against the edges of your space like a ribbon. The pull of you was so familiar, so tangible, he could feel every cell, all the matter that made up your beautiful existence. 

Suddenly, without his permission, his hand shot out, gently enveloping your wrist as you passed.

You spun around, your instincts awakened, and in one fluid motion the barrel of your gun was aimed at his chest. He almost chuckled at the sight, but the intensity on your face kept him quiet.

Your eyes widened, shock and incredulity clicking into place when they finally registered Caleb’s presence. “You…” the sentence withers in your throat.

“Hello, pip,” he said softly, raising a brow at the gun. “Still using that move?”

Your eyes flicked across the contours of his face like a laser, his hair, his cheeks, his eyes, his jaw, no detail escaping your notice before you stuttered, “C-Caleb? Bu— You’re supposed to be…”

He felt a smile tug at the corner of his mouth as the letters of his name curled around your tongue for the first time in what felt like an eternity. “I still might if you don’t put that away,” he said mildly. 

Your grip on the weapon tightened reflexively, but it didn’t lower. Interesting. 

Moving with military-like precision, too quickly for you to counteract it, Caleb’s hand shot out, hitting the gun and dislodging it from your grasp. 

You froze, hooking your gaze into his as he tested the weight of it in his hand, the barrel pointing at your chest for one second, two seconds, three... before he aimed it at the ground.

“Tsk, tsk. So careless.” The soft click of the safety flicking on pierced the air between them. “Someone could’ve gotten hurt, pipsqueak.”

“How did you… how are you…?” there’s a faint tremor in your tone and your eyes turn glassy. 

“Shh,” Caleb stepped closer, close enough to feel your shaky exhale against his throat like a wave of summer air, close enough to reach around you to place your gun back in the holster on your hip. Close enough that his forehead brushed yours. “I missed you too.”

For half a second, he saw your guard slip, your face caught between disbelief and longing. 

And then, like feeling an engine ignite, he knew exactly which of your buttons he’d just flicked. Before the anger even had a chance to crackle across your irises. Before your palms came up to his chest and shoved at it. “I went to your funeral.”

“My funeral, hm?” His body had barely swayed, but his amused, love-drunk smile never wavered when he decided to press another button. “Did you cry for me, then?” 

Caleb’s evol flared, and he had your hands lowered — eyelashes fluttering in surprise, back and palms pinned to the building behind you — before you’d even finished the thought of shoving him again. 

With your hands out of the way, as you struggled against the bindings of his evol, Caleb finally took the chance to cup your face in his hands, cradling it like it was the very nucleus of his life force. 

“Hey. Hey,” he soothed, re-familiarizing himself with the contour of your jaw beneath his fingers. “I’d never leave you in a world without me, pip, you know me better than that.”

“I thought I did,” you gritted out, the confusion and betrayal in your voice slowing your movements. "Now, I'm not so sure."

He took advantage of your hesitation, brushing the bow of his upper lip against the bump of your lower one.

“You do, though,” he reassured.  “Just like I know you. Better than anyone ever could.” Caleb reached out, his knuckles grazing your cheek. “Your anger, your love” His hand went to the steel-chain tag that hung around his neck. “Wants. Needs.” His nose traced the bridge of yours and he reveled in another one of your shaky breaths. “Outside…” His voice roughened, “Inside.”

Just as you quit struggling, just as your confusion fissured and your body turned languid against his, just as you gave in, Caleb released you, taking a step back to enjoy the sight of you trying to find your footing.

“Now you’ll never doubt that I’ll always find you.” His mouth curved into the charismatic smile he was known to flash at his general when he gestured toward the street. “It’s late, pipsqueak. Get yourself home.”

Your chest heaved with what were no doubt a dozen of your favorite insults, but you didn’t voice any of them. Instead, you clenched your jaw, straightened your shoulders, and bit out, “I’m going to— I can’t believe— No, I can’t do this right now. This isn’t over, Caleb.”

You turned sharply on your heel, your footsteps echoing in the silence as you walked away, steps stiff and uneven. And Caleb watched as the shadows swallowed your figure and you disappeared from view. 

He’d wait, he decided. he could play the long game. He already spent all these months away from you, what were a few more if it helped you realize the raw, unfiltered truth — that he belonged to you. 

And that was the moment the glass barrier shattered, a pulled trigger that splintered his focus into shards of obsession. 

Extra goal unlocked and with that we have completed nanami crushes things 2024

Rafayel and MC's hands

JJK MEN TWITTER LINKS PART 2

Part 1 here M!list here

Note: added yuki and shoko 😗

○ Gojo Satoru ●

Up against the wall

Loves when you ride him

Movie night turned into smth more

○ Geto Suguru ●

He loves ur ass

Perv!geto loves public sex

Geto loves easy access

○ Toji Fushiguro ●

Fingering and fucking your pretty pussy

Morning sex w toji

He enjoys ur pretty cunt

○ Nanami Kento ●

Bent over his lap

Cumming thru ur panties

soft and sensual sex w Nanami (this is a p-hub link) I love it sm please I just had to add

○ Choso Kamo ●

You let him cream pie you

Professional titty sucker

Choso just learned how to finger your pussy

○ Yuki Tsukumo ●

Strap 😗

She eats ur pussy

Slapping ur cunt

○ Shoko Ieiri ●

Fingering ur pussy after a long day

She loves to try new things on you

Rubbing 😽

wrestling your homie

Letters From the Future

A/N: hello hello this is also cross-posted on ao3 so you can check it out there too if you wanna! i don’t know if there’s any demand for bertolt content but if there is i am here to provide. hope you enjoy ;)

Summary: A pile of letters, tied in red ribbon and addressed to her from a man now dead.

Warnings: Angst. Fluff and Angst, meaning fluff on the way but angst on the end. I’ve never written angst so I don’t know if i’m any good at it but it made me sad writing it so maybe that means something

This bad boy is over 12k words. Please set aside the appropriate chunk of time if you would like to read it all in one sitting.

Pairings: Bertolt Hoover/Reader

“Y/n?”

There was no response when Jean knocked on the door. She had been in her room for the last day now, only appearing in brief intervals to accept meager portions of food or take a trip to the communal bathrooms. Everyone who saw her gave her at least ten feet of clearance, as though she were going to combust, as though she were going to sink her teeth into her own hand and transform before their eyes.

“Y/n, I know you’re in there. I have something for you.”

“No, thank you.”

“Too bad. If you don’t open the door, I’m bringing Mikasa to break it down.”

He had wanted to threaten that he would break down the door himself, but Mikasa carried a certain weight around the barracks that he simply could not attain.

Jean balanced the weight of the letters in his hand. There had to be at least two dozen in the pile, likely more, and some of them were several pages long. When he had pulled them out of the wall, they had been wrapped neatly with a red ribbon and kept in a simple leather pouch that tied shut with a drawstring. Bertolt’s other effects were in various states of disrepair, showing signs of water damage, wrinkling, or general wear and tear”

The letters were pristine.

He had taken one look at the letter on top of the pile before averting his gaze. The words were not meant for him. Every single letter was addressed to the same person, who was now in the middle of reluctantly shuffling towards the door before Jean could call in reinforcements to smoke her out.

“What do you want?”

“Don’t be rude. I brought you something,” he reiterated, shoving the pile of letters in her direction before she could refuse them. “Mail for you.”

“My family is dead. No one sends me mail.”

“You’ll want to read these.”

She scrunched her brow but finally accepted the letters and slammed the door in Jean’s face, purposefully ignoring the indignant, “you’re welcome,” that he shouted through the door. She carefully pulled open the red ribbon and let the pile fall out all over her desk. As she scanned the words, it became incredibly obvious why the letters had been given to her and not kept for evidence.

Keep reading

So I had a levi thought and it won't leave me alone.

Cannon, Post War Levi putting you through multiple orgasms until you are a ruined mess with nothing but his injured hand, just to prove he can and that missing 2 fingers isn't enough to stop him from fucking you stupid.

Have a good day <3

18+ MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT tw: mentions of injury, fingerfucking, face sitting, overstimulation, implied breeding kink

Post-war Levi fucks you like he has something to prove.

He doesn't, to be clear. You tell him all the time that you don't see him any differently, or think any less of him, because of the injuries that changed him. But I think that, especially in the early years after the war, he wonders if he's enough for you--if he can satisfy you. Down 2/5ths of a hand, an eye, and most of the use of his legs, he knows that he's not the same man that he used to be. The one you fell in love with.

And you're still young. You made it through the war unharmed in most of the ways that matter, and he knows you have a long life ahead of you that was never promised before the war. Any path is yours if you choose to take it.

Levi wonders, as he is, is it right to hold you back?

Levi has never been a selfish man. He's taken only what he needs to survive. Done the things he's done to keep the people around him, and humanity, safe. But now, he chooses something for himself. Chooses to hold you tighter, to keep you close, because he needs to. Because he wants you more than he's ever wanted anything.

Levi never stops after only making you cum once. It's not enough to only watch you fall apart under his careful ministrations a single time. He's methodical and insatiable--addicted to the sight of you: breaths ragged, skin dewy with perspiration, lips swollen and parted and kiss bruised, lost in the throes of pleasure. Pleasure he caused.

He learns how to make use of his injured hand: thumb on your clit, two remaining fingers bullying their way inside of you--crooking in just the right way that has you writhing. He gets good at it. Then great at it. Practice makes perfect, and Levi is nothing if not a man committed to his craft.

You're barely past the first high he'd brought you to when he's pulling you up towards him, angling your hips over his face where his head rests propped up against the pillows at the top of the bed.

His bed. Your bed. Something shared between the two of you, an intimate space you both come to at the end of each blissfully uneventful day.

You always hesitate for a moment, hands braced against the headboard or the wall, worried that you shouldn't let yourself drop down and asking if he's sure. His only answer is to pull your hips down flush against his face, his eyes (eye) remaining unwaveringly on yours the entire time.

And once you've cum again, crying out to him with your hands tangled in his hair, he'll finally fuck you. Watch you bounce up and down on his aching, neglected cock after so long. Indulge his primal, deep seated need to be inside of you--to fill you.

And maybe this time will be the time that finally takes. That finally brings something into the world that's half him and half you--a fantasy he's never allowed himself the indulgence of aspiring for until now. Maybe this will be the night that has you growing round and glowing, a little swell of your tummy a symbol to the world that even if Levi's not the man he used to be, he's still capable of this.

And if it isn't?

Well he'll keep trying until it does.

Practice makes perfect, after all.

And he's got nothing but time.

call me baby

pairing: choso x reader

contains: fem reader, pussy rubbing, panty-fucking, cream pie, dirty talk, sensitive!Choso

note: someone sent an ask for this w/ gojo or geto… but i couldn’t stop thinking abt it w/ choso…

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

"What should I do?" You asked Choso quietly as he slid his large thighs under yours, gripping the fat of your thighs to pull you closer to him so his erect cock was pressed right against your clothed cunt, only clad in your panties, which had started to become sheer where your hole was pressed against it from how much you were leaking. 

"Just... lay there and don't move, let me do all the work," Choso said, a blush spread across his porcelain face as his eyes stayed trained on your cunt which pulsed and throbbed under his gaze. "The girl in the video sounded like this felt good for her, let me know otherwise please." He added, his eyes flitting up to yours so he could see you nod in acknowledgment at his words.

Once Choso saw you nod, he dropped his gaze back down to your cunt. He grabbed the base of his dripping cock in one hand and pressed it against your clothed cunt, rubbing the head of his leaky dick up and down your pussy. Your stomach clenched each time he rubbed the fat tip against your clit, the stimulation making your toes curl.

Choso kept looking up at your expression to gauge whether or not this was feeling good for you. He licked his lips as he watched you stare where the two of you were connected with a slack jaw, your lips making a pretty o shape as you stared at his thick cock rubbing against you.

"I can feel how wet you are through your panties, it's so cute," Choso mumbled, his voice coming out less confident than he would've liked. You swallowed hard, feeling your face suddenly grow hotter at his words. "You're dripping too y'know... that's not all me." You said, your face screwing in pleasure when he pressed his fat tip harder against you, pushing it right under your clit.

Choso blushed deeper, his cock twitching at your words. "You're right, I just like doing this with you so much." He said honestly, giving himself a couple of quick strokes along his shaft to calm himself down. You smiled at that, your hand reaching down to place itself over his, which gripped your upper thigh in support. "I like doing this with you too Cho." You replied, tilting your head at him.

Choso moved his hand down his cock so he was gripping his length about halfway. He pressed his cock against your clit and started thrusting against you, wetting the already wet spot there even more. He used his hand like a pocket pussy as he thrust into it, making sure each time he thrust forward against you that his head was pressing right against your clit.

"Does that feel good?" Choso asked, his eyes looking up to your face for approval. You gasped and whined quietly each time his bulbous head pressed against your clit, stimulating it just right. "Y-yeah, keep going, Cho." You nodded, retracting your hand from his to join the other and slide underneath your shirt to massage your tits.

Choso pouted at your blissful expression as he took in your words, all the while he kept rubbing his cock along your pussy, further wetting your panties and making them almost completely sheer. "Good." Choso nodded back, swallowing whatever saliva was in his dry mouth before he looked back down to your cunt. Choso then pulled your sticky panties away from your pussy, revealing a sliver of your bare folds to his greedy eyes before he slipped his cock against you and covered his tip with your panties.

He testingly rubbed his cock along your wet folds, the head of his cock brushing past your clit and poking through your panties right above it, the pink material of your panties that was covering his cock making it look so cute. "So warm..." Choso whispered, choked gasped and moans falling from his lips as he slowly thrust his cock back and forth along your pussy, letting the folds of your cunt hug the underside of his dick.

He placed both of his hands on your thighs and pelvis, his hands almost forming a triangle in the middle as he used his thumbs to press his cock against your pussy, letting him pick up his pace now that he had his cock secured by his thumbs to make sure the head of his cock would rub your stiff bud no matter how fast he went. 

"C-choso-" You gasped, a little louder now as he rubbed against you with more vigor. You squeezed your tits under your shirt, your lithe fingers playing with the stiff nipples for extra stimulation as your body shook and slid along the bed with each thrust. "Let me see." He said vaguely, his eyebrows furrowing as he fucked his cock against your pussy. You tilted your head at him, confused at what he was referring to.

"Y-you're playing with your chest. I want to see, can I?" Choso elaborated, his honest words making you feel hot all over. You nodded before releasing your breasts, your hand slipping out under the shirt to push it over your chest, the fabric bundling by your collarbones as your tits were revealed to his greedy eyes.

"So pretty, touch them again, I wanna watch you touch them," Choso begged, his words coming out more desperate the longer he rubbed his cock against your folds. This felt so much better than he expected. The man in the video was silent so he wasn't sure how good it would feel for him but now that he was actually doing it, he had no idea how he stayed so quiet. Choso was a gasping and groaning mess, much unlike the man in the video--his cock was always quite sensitive though. 

Obeying his wish, you grabbed your tits once more, massaging them in your hands as you alternated between pinching your nipples and squeezing the fat of them together. Choso's brain nearly short-circuited as he watched the fat of your tits squish between your fingers--he wished so badly he was the one touching them instead. "God, they're so pretty, I love your tits." Choso groaned, his thrusts against your cunt becoming more erratic, making your body jerk forward from the intense stimulation. 

"F-fuck, t-thank you, baby." You whined, your hips absentmindedly bucking against his. Choso felt all of the blood run to his cock at the nickname, he swore his heart skipped a beat. "B-baby?" Choso repeated, his eyes flitting between your cunt, which was now meeting his thrusts, and your face, which was screwed in pleasure from his doing. 

"Yeah, I called you baby, is that okay?" You asked, smiling at the way he pouted when you repeated the pet name. Choso nodded, his lips pressing together and folding in on themselves as his head tipped back, revealing the muscles in his neck. "I-I think it's going to make me cum." Choso groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head as his head was tipped back. 

"A-ah- what is?" You asked through a moan when the two of you fell into the perfect pace, your hips humping upwards each time he thrust against you, his leaky head rubbing your clit perfectly. "That name, I like when you call me that." He answered, his chin falling back down as his eyes locked onto your cunt and your hips that were eagerly meeting his thrusts as you worked yourselves towards your orgasms. 

"You're so cute Choso." You smiled, the expression quickly getting wiped off your face as he hit a particularly sensitive spot, your orgasm building steadily in your pelvis. "I-it's not just that. You're so warm, and wet, and your face is so cute when my dick touches you right here." Choso said, emphasizing his words with a stronger thrust against your clit. 

"And you sound s-so cute, y-you're gonna make me cum." He said, his thrusts losing their rhythm. You were whining at his words, your eyes fluttering back in your head as you let his wet cock work you over perfectly. Your hands squeezed your tits harder to stabilize yourself as you felt yourself right on the edge of your orgasm. Everything was so slippery, the wetness between the two of you had completely ruined your panties, and they were soaked through from your fluids.

"G-god Choso, I-i'm close." You whined, your eyes fluttering back in your head as your head tipped back against the sheets, rolling around as you braced yourself for such an intense orgasm. "M-me too, fuck me too." He chimed in as he forced his eyes to stay forward in their sockets so he wouldn't miss a thing, he needed to see your face when you came. 

"I-inside baby, cum inside please, I need it." You begged as something came over you last second. You think you might die if he didn't fill you up right now. Choso's dick twitched at the name, he wanted to ask if you were sure but the use of the pet name shortened the time before he was about to cum in half, so he trusted your words as he heard them.

"O-okay, shit, I'm gonna cum inside you." Choso groaned, his head nodding rapidly at your words. He pressed his thumbs down against his cock, the appendage sliding down your cunt and finding your entrance as it slipped in with ease, thanks to how wet the both of you were. Choso's thumb replaced his cock as he rubbed small circles over it as he quickly started a sloppy pace and fucked into your heat with reckless abandon, his tip hitting your g-spot with every thrust and effectively pushing you over the edge.

Your hand shot down to the sides of your body as your fingers gripped the sheets tightly. Choso watched as your eyes screwed shut and your mouth fell open in a silent scream before you were spasming all over his cock. "Shit- so tight-" he moaned as he felt your walls squeeze around him ten times tighter as you came.  

You looked so cute, your face screwed in pleasure, your body jerking uncontrollably, the feeling of your cum dripping out around his cock that was plugging you up. Your moans were like music to his ears, his cock pulsed with the need for his release before he was stilling inside you, his thumb still working sloppily over your clit as he continued to work you through your orgasm as he came.

"Cumming- fuck- c-cumming-" Choso groaned as he released rope after rope into your already sopping wet cunt. You whined in oversensitivity as he continued to roll his hips against yours, fucking you full of his cum. The veins in Choso's neck bulged out as he came with such intensity, his cock throbbing as he filled you to the brim with his seed. "Fuck, thank you, baby, thank you." You whined weakly, gasping against the sheets as Choso rode out the last waves of his orgasm inside your cunt, letting your walls milk him of all he was worth.

Choso flopped forward, keeping his softening cock inside you as he laid all of his body weight on top of you. You groaned dramatically as he semi-crushed you with the weight of his very muscly body, but the feeling of the warmth from his skin seeping into yours prevented you from saying anything. Your hands reached up to wrap around his back, your nails softly scratching along his soft skin as he groaned into your neck in appreciation, trying to recover after such an intense orgasm.

"Was that okay for you..." Choso had the audacity to ask as he buried his head in your neck, his warm breath tickling the skin of your neck when he spoke. "That was perfect Choso, you always make me feel so good," you said, holding back a giggle as you continued raking your nails over his skin. "We should probably clean up soon though." You added after a couple of seconds.

"Five more minutes... this feels good," Choso mumbled, his words almost coming out incoherent from the sleepiness in his voice. Choso's love for the simplicity of things like back scratching filled you with so much love you wanted to explode. You knew 5 minutes would turn into 2 hours, but you couldn't find yourself to care much when you heard him start to practically purr into your neck.

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄

headcanons about kento nanami being insanely protective over you, his sweet wife . . . ♡

Typically, Nanami is a calm, cool, and collected individual. However, that changes drastically if someone’s bothering you.

Be it an annoying cashier or a first grade curse, no one messes with Mrs. Nanami.

For ordinary, aggravating people, all it takes is them seeing that muscular, pissed-off man approaching, and they run off as fast as they can.

Nanami trained for hours upon hours to become stronger in order to protect you, which is how he managed to become so buff.

If you’re a sorcerer as well, Nanami insists upon the two of you doing as many missions together as possible.

He’s not a whiny kid, so he won’t throw a fit if he can’t be right by your side, but he’ll definitely try to negotiate with the higher-ups at every given opportunity about it.

He knows you’re strong and that you can handle yourself, he knows that you don’t need his protection, but he still wants to be there for you.

He’d die for you without a second thought. Jump in harm’s way as a human shield without any care in regards to his own life.

Nanami is naturally insanely strong, of course, but if an enemy hurts you, even if it’s just a small scratch, he becomes an entirely different person.

He once slammed someone through several walls for kicking you in the stomach. They died instantly. And Nanami gently and carefully inspected your bruises after.

He does worry that he’ll somehow hurt you on accident, both directly and indirectly. He’s afraid that he’ll accidentally hurt you whenever he touches you, or that something bad will happen to you if he accidentally makes a mistake while on a mission.

Not only does your dear husband protect you from other people, but he’ll protect you from weather, dangerous objects, etc.

If it’s raining, he won’t hesitate to snatch off his jacket and put it over your head if you both forgot to bring an umbrella. He’ll also carry you across unavoidable puddles without you even asking.

If he notices a loose nail sticking out somewhere or a wobbly chair, he fixes it immediately just to make sure that you won’t get hurt.

When fighting, he might remove his tie. He might remove his jacket. But he will never remove his ring.