#nanami on the brain

[whoskimii]

the room still smelled like sex. faint sweat, your perfume, the deep scent of slick and cum clinging to the tangled sheets. the curtains were half-drawn, moonlight slipping through in silver slats, spilling across kento's bare back where he knelt between your legs — silent, head bent, brows furrowed in concentration.

he hadn’t said much since he came — just a few soft grunts as he pulled out — slow, gentle, offering you an affectionate kiss on the forehead. your swollen pussy was still twitching around nothing, shiny with the thick drip of him starting to seep out. you’d whimpered, overstimulated, but he only shushed you, warm hand pressing flat to your belly. “don’t move sweetheart,” he murmured, voice quiet. “let me see, come on. don’t be shy, it’s jus’ me.”

that was all it took. your shaky legs fell wider apart, thighs trembling with the aftershocks of the orgasm he’d wrung from you not five minutes ago. you were still pulsing, every inch of you soft under the weight of his heavy stare.

kento bent down slightly before he pushed his glasses up his nose. your husband didn’t touch at first — just looked. head tilted, tongue clicking softly behind his teeth — it was enough to make you shy. “look at her,” he muttered. “sensitive, mhm ?”

his thumb brushed down the inside of your thigh, not even close to where you were swollen and leaking. “she took me well. right, honey ?” you whimpered softly as an answer, too sheepish for anything else.

kento scoffed quietly. “cute.” he said simply, shifting lower, close enough to breathe the heat of you.

your face burned, but it was hard to feel embarrassed when your cunt was still glistening with his cum, your thighs damp and sticky, the proof of your pleasure cooling between your legs as your husband inspected the aftermath with precision.

his hands were warm and wide, fingers gently parting you open. “she looks so pretty,” he murmured. “little puffy.”

you keened softly as he traced a finger down the seam of your folds. not pushing in, not teasing. just cataloging. noting the way you clenched, the way slick gathered on his fingertip. “still leaking,” he said absently. “i came deep.” he remarked casually. “you always do, ken...” you breathed.

he glanced up, glasses slipping just slightly, mouth twitching. “you always keep it so well.” the praise landed heavy in your gut. kento leaned forward, exhaled a breath over your abused pussy — watching you twitch. “too much ?” he asked softly. “no,” you whispered. “jus’ sensitive...”

his gaze flicked up again. he smiled faintly, proud, as he ran two fingers up your slit and pressed the pads just slightly to your entrance, gathering more of his release as it seeped out of you in thick, warm drips. “she’s mine,” he murmured. “mhm ? no one else’s.” you nodded, thighs trembling. “uh-huh... always, ken.”

he nodded once. “next time,” he said, slipping his fingers into your mouth without being asked. “you’re keepin’ it in all night.”

the taste hit your tongue — salty, bitter, slick. you moaned softly, lidded eyes fluttering shut before kento kissed the inside of your knee, still watching you. “good girl,” he murmured. “close your legs. let her rest. she worked hard enough tonight.”

[o4i0n]

came across a tiktok where the bride surprises the groom with her ‘spicy’ photos throughout their wedding day and all i can think of is pulling a stunt like that with nanami .. the embarrassingly bright flush that appears in red splotches below his neck that creeps up his ears; the way he blinks at the polaroids you discreetly slip into his clammy hand before he looks at you, then away again as he clears his throat to dismiss his reaction; the flustered smile that quirks up at the corner of his lips as he chuckles because the timing could not be any more perfect (for you, at least. it isn’t for him but he’d let it slide).

the pictures aren’t too explicit—god knows you’ve been more brazen in the past with your now-husband. they’re sensual, tasteful, and you know that they’re just right when kento tries to pull you away to somewhere secluded during the busy moments in between your reception since he told you that your guests can wait a few minutes. you tell him no, not yet, but not without handing him another polaroid.

even if he kind of expected it, he can never truly prepare himself when he flits his eyes down. you’re donned in lingerie that hugs your body in all the right places, and best of all, the set you’re wearing shares the same shade of blue as his signature dress shirt.

he can’t wait for the formalities to end.

[nappingmoon]

modern au where your husband nanami is a literature professor and he sits you on his lap while he reads essays and prepares lecture material. he gets so used to the weight of you on his thigh, the warmth of your body against his, that eventually, he finds that he cannot focus without you there.

nanami is a little sheepish when he enters the living room, hemming a little bit in a way that’s very uncharacteristic of your lover. your eyes stray from the show playing on the television, now curiously tracking his small movements. you pause the contents on the tv before greeting him. “hi baby, you okay? how’s grading going?”

nanami’s hand reaches up to adjust his glasses before he releases a little sigh. “not well, my love.” his voice is quiet, the deep timber a comforting sound. he walks into the kitchen as he continues, “I’ve been working on reading these papers, but I find my mind straying far too much.” he finishes his sentence while pouring water into the kettle, placing it then on the stove.

“is that so?” you ask, leaning over the arm of the chair, enjoying, as always, the sight of your lover doing mundane tasks— the domesticity of it never ceasing to affect you, even after years of marriage. “where’s your mind been going?” despite the question, you have an idea and the smile on your face betrays it.

nanami hesitates as retrieves two cups from the cupboard; the beautiful, delicate china a wedding gift that has become the staple for holding your evening teas. “you, darling. though it is becoming apparent that you already knew that, tease.” he grumps at the end without malice.

“I assumed, but I always love to hear it.” you giggle in return. “want me to come keep you company?”

he’s nearly done pouring your teas, steeping the loose leaves in your favorite tea holders. “yes, please. if you’d like, you can watch your show in the room. I just prefer you do it next to me.”

“that’s alright, I was getting bored of it anyways. plus, i’d rather watch that quirk in your eyebrow when you find that your student has used ‘perchance’ incorrectly again.”

“minx.” he chides. “keep making fun of me and i’ll forget to put in your sugar.”

“I yield! I yield,” you laugh, raising your hands high in defeat. “it’s far too bitter without the sugar, I don’t know how you make do.”

the small spoon clinks as he finishes stirring in your honey and sugar, and he lays it down in the sink before picking up the cups, each sitting in their own decorated porcelain plates. you rise from the couch, quickly pressing the ‘off’ button on the remote before padding over to your husband.

you gently nudge your way under his arm, wary of the tea he’s carrying, and nuzzle yourself into him. you walk in tandem to your room approaching the warm glow of his desk lamp. “I don’t need any more sugar; you’re enough for me, sweetness.”

a/n: you can’t just say perchance

[pseudowho]

18+, touch-starved, 'waiting' gentleman Nanami Kento, male masturbation over the clothes

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"But...does this count?" you whispered against Nanami Kento's neck, your hand trailing down to the curved tenting at the front of his tan trousers. He jolted, grunting, involuntarily bucking against your palm.

He was a gentleman; one who waited; one who longed. Certainly not one to turn his back on due diligence, and favouring flowers over fondling. Any girlfriend whom he intended to become his wife, would only be taken by him after a societally appropriate time.

But how long would this be? With you, a day felt like a month; a month, years. With how you smiled against his throat, he knew, from every twitch of his touch-starved body, that even a gentleman may meet his resolve's end sooner than planned.

"It...it counts," Kento choked, his body betraying him to roll his hips and the straining underside of his cock up against your palm. "I...I shouldn't. You deserve-- deserve--"

"...deserve to know the face of your pleasure, before you come inside me?" Kento froze, paralysed by the honesty, the filth of your words. He felt his cock twitch beneath your palm when you spoke again, lower this time. "Yes. Yes, I do. So..."

"I-- I don't-- haaaah," Kento cried, hoarse and breathy, for a twitch almost as bone-deep as one when he spilled himself, shivered through his length. He felt the dribble of pre-cum soak through his trousers; he saw it, too, the sticky fluid staining the pale material to beige. You felt it, too; you saw it, too. Kento knew he was a goner, when you bit your lip beneath dilating pupils.

You cupped your hand around the length of his cock, moulding his boxers and trousers to his shape, and slowly, rhythmically, beginning to jack him off through his clothes. Kento humped up desperately, dishevelled and panting, and touch-starved, so touch-starved--

"Feels good?" you whispered, suckling his throat to leave rose petals on his skin. Kento only groaned; husky, shuddering, coming undone embarrassingly quickly. Touch without touch was so illicit, so debauched, for one so corseted as he.

"Feels...feels...like I'm going to come in my boxers like a boy--" Kento growled, tangling his fingers through your hair to keep your lips on his throat.

"Would that be so bad?" you murmured against his pulse point, your tongue dipping out to taste the desperation off his skin. Your hand sped up, gliding around the length of him.

Your eyes closed to imagine it was his bare cock in your hand, instead. Your eyes closed, to imagine how the shape of him would fit every plush facet of your insides. You shivered; Kento moaned. You felt him hardening even further; felt the ghost of veins, standing proud, winding around his cock like desire paths.

The gentleman was gone, now; the needy remained.

"Don't stop," panted Kento, fucking up into your palm with every smooth masturbatory motion that your hand made around him, "--just--just like that-- don't stop-- I...I'll..."

Trailing your lips from his jaw to his mouth, you pressed a chaste little peck to his lips; but it was when your tongue swiped over his lower lip, that he met his undoing.

Your hand pumped only two more fabric-frictioned long pumps...before Kento held his breath. His jaw dropped in a silent gasp. His hand tightened in your hair, the other pressing dimples into the divot of your waist. And you felt him spill.

Kento moaned with every twitch of his cock, leaping and spurting beneath tan confines. You watched, fascinated, to see him come apart with each bucking spill, each deepening stain that spread beneath his clothes. His face, twisted in divine agony, would be seated into your mind until he took you, pinned and begging his name, for the first time.

"--f-fuck...o-ooohhh f-fuck...p-pathetic...so pathetic--"

"--hot, actually--"

A rough, gravelly cough; a mirthless laugh, with his final weak spatters of cum.

"...you...will be the end of me...I swear on my life..."

Kento opened one slim, brown eye, regarding your gleeful lip-biting with a huff. He had almost pulled himself together...until you dipped down to the cum-stain on his crotch, and fixed your mouth around it, sucking through the saturated fabric and dipping out your tongue to taste him.

Kento whimpered, bucking weakly against your lips, for you had broken him once, and twice, and now thrice, and he wondered how he would ever survive--

"...taste amazing, Kento."

Four times. Kento flipped you beneath him, pinning you to the sofa with sadistic satisfaction at the look of shock on your face.

He blew upwards, wisping commas of blond off his sweaty forehead. He curled one long finger into his tie, loosening it with one violent tug.

"I've had enough of you, madam. If you won't treat me like a gentleman, then I shan't be."

[izhyperfixates]

@mintmatcha reminds me of your foster parent nanami fics

[snail-day]

Back to thinking about biting Suguru. Nothing new there.

It’s always easiest to harass him when you’re both watching a movie, attention span dwindling, your body slowly sinking into his as the minutes drag on. He’s behind you, long and solid and so warm, one heavy arm draped lazily around your waist. The slowness of his evening out breath. His broad, firm chest rising against your back. He’s barely dozing off, messy dark hair tickling your neck, a soft sigh ghosting past your ear. And, unfortunately…

His tits are right there.

Right behind your head. Plush and perfect, like a pillow. The weight of them. The audacity of them.

It’s just too easy to twist around and, well…

Bite.

Except he catches you, of course. With those annoyingly fast reflexes honed from years of training and you being a menace attacking him all the time. His large hand gently but firmly grabs your face mid-lunge, squishing your cheeks together until you’re forced into a pathetic little fishy pout.

A stretched out, teasing grin slowly spreads across his lips - sleepy, sharp, and far too smug. His hair falls into his eyes as he shifts closer so you're beneath him, and there’s something infuriatingly affectionate in the way he watches you squirm.

You can’t help the nervous wriggle, a pathetic whine bubbling in your throat as he holds you close, refusing to let you retreat.

He presses a soft kiss to your squished lips.

“Mmm? Does my baby not like this?” he coos, still holding your face like you’re some silly little creature he has to coddle and scold all at once. His voice dips into a crooning pout as he tilts his head, mirroring your expression for just a second. “Imagine how I feel, getting attacked all the time.”

And then - smugness restored, grin reforming - he brushes his nose against yours and hums, “Maybe I should gag you.” He pretends to think, fingers tapping your cheek. “Maybe then you'd learn your lesson and I'd actually get some peace, mm?”

You should bite him harder next time.

[summikomi]

jjk smau: just a nibble! (you bite them)

ft. gojo, nanami, choso, toji, sukuna, nobara, megumi, yuuji

cw: suggestive content

this is so silly. sorry for the minor disappearance, life got crazy. hopefully more stable uploads from now on!

[bekkomi]

modern boys in a stone world chibis

[oceanreveuse]

big beefy men with all their body hair (that they know you love so much) and blowjobs… god specifically blowjobs. he’s watching you struggle to take his length into your throat, gagging and spluttering when your nose buries into his pubes until you pull yourself off, gasping and messy. you nuzzle into his happy trail, rubbing your soft cheek against the coarse hair and he’s literally all heart-eyes for you… not to mention when you busy yourself with his heavy balls oh lawwwd.. (〃ω〃)

[whoskimii]

Nanami + ovulation he would treat us so well while fucking us hard and speaking sweet words <3

i love this request i feel like it's so nanami :3

⋆౨ৎ˚ notes > kento x you. filthy filth! i need me some of that :( he rails you but he's polite with it frfr. tell me if i missed anything!! ^^ ౨ৎ warning : you may have butterflies in your belly while reading this!! 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

your husband was handsome, to say the least. it was an undeniable fact. you were always attracted to him, no matter the time. but when you were ovulating ? don't even get me started.

you were all over him. clawing, pawing at him, you name it. of course he found it sweet. he loved that his pretty little wife could go that crazy over him just from the fact that he was simply existing.

when you were ovulating and he'd come home from work, looking all tired and exhausted, his tie a bit loose and his sleeves rolled up ? that was certainly a valid excuse to practically pounce on him.

it was nearly three in the morning when you came for the fourth time. the fourth time.

your stamina was always higher during your ovulation week but right now ? you were completely fucked out. but he found so pretty, you can't blame him :(

he gently nuzzled your neck with his nose as the tip of his cock literally bullied your sweet spot. "you're so pretty, my love, y'know that ?" the way he spoke and the way he moved created such a contrast that it was almost unbelievable.

he murmured such sweet words into your ear, like you were the most precious thing he had. which was the truth. you truly were his most guarded treasure. but he was also fucking you so nice and deep into the mattress, almost as if you were a cheap whore he found down the street. your husband was such a polyvalent man, and you couldn't deny you loved it.

"surely you can handle a bit more, right ? aw, of course you can..." your senses were all filled with him. literally.

your hearing, your sense of smell and more— literally everything. they were as filled with him as your pussy were. "ken, s'too much..." you mumbled, grabbing his forearms weakly.

one of your legs was hooked around his waist to pull him deeper, as if he wasn't already touching your soul. you could swear, right there and then, that you felt him in your liver. "it's too much, you say ? my love... i know a liar when i see one."

your pretty manicured nails, the ones he paid for, were digging into the sheets. "m'not lying, i swear..." he chuckled. "yeah ? you say you're not lying, mhm ? why's she sucking me in, then ?" you knew what he was referring to. of course you knew.

your pussy. your husband loved talking about it as if it was an individual, who was worthy of respect.

your sloppy little walls were making such lewd sounds, almost the same ones you could hear in many pornographic movies. "s'just... i can't..." you babbled. you were on the verge of cumming and your husband knew that. he intertwined his fingers with you and his other hand slid between your bodies to circle your throbbing little clit.

"you can." he insisted, punctuating his words with yet another harsh thrust. he chuckled as you choked on your own saliva and he pulled his fingers away from your clit, only to stuff your mouth with them. "why don't you suck on my fingers, honey ? just like you suck on my cock. s'been a while since you did, huh ?"

his fingers were coated in your essence as he forced them between your lips. the taste of yourself made your eyes roll back. "yeah, s'been a little while, mhm ? i just keep fucking you, now. maybe i spoil you too much." he kissed your cheek. "m'gonna cum..."

he hummed and gently kissed your forehead. "yeah ? really ? go ahead, baby..." he whispered, one of his hands playing with your nipple. he pushed your knees to your chest and you moaned loudly. "go ahead." he repeated. "i love watching you come."

his words, mixed with the way he was playing with you so freely, made you cum. "ken !" you gasped as you clenched around him tightly. "fuck, that's it..." he didn't stop, even as you were climaxing for the fifth time that night.

the way your messy cunt tightened around him made him cum right after you. he buried his face in your neck as your fingers tangled with his blonde strands. "i love you..." he murmured.

as he finally came to a stop, he collapsed on top of you, chest to chest. he gave your lips a sweet, short kiss before caressing your cheek. "you want to rest, my love ? it's already three." at your weak little nod, he smiled. "let me just clean you up a little." he pulled out slowly.

he just fucked you nice and hard, and now he was treating you like a fragile little doll.

yeah, your husband was truly a polyvalent man.

<33 do you guys like it ?

⋆˚࿔ kimi 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

[wttcsms]

thinking about character who’s hot, an actual gentleman, successful — he’s the whole package, honestly. he even cares more about getting his girlfriends off than focusing on his own pleasure. he’s perfect! he doesn’t argue with his girlfriends, he never loses his patience with them, and he’s loyally devoted to them. his perfection is the actual problem, though. all of his girlfriends have broken up with him because he’s just too perfect. his collected exterior never chips, never breaks. no one gets under his skin. no one has ever made him want to lose control, to just give into his desires and wants. what he desires, what he wants, is to be free to be absolutely insane about his lover. he wants an all-consuming, passionate type of love, and he wants to give into carnal pleasure and fuck his girl like a wild animal.

but again, he’s perfect, sweet, gentlemanly character. he can’t give into his base desires; he’s not a barbarian. besides, none of his previous girlfriends have ever tested his boundaries, never made him feel like he was losing his grip on his self control.

until you. sweet, young, kind you. the new assistant working for the company. you’re shy and inexperienced about a lot of things, but you’re not like him. you’re genuinely good. you’re just so cute and soft, it’s a wonder how the world hasn’t squashed you yet. not like he’d let that happen.

and from the minute he met you, every fiber of his being felt like it was being electrified. one conversation with you, shared glances from across the hallway, and his carefully constructed self restraint is crumbling. what he desires, what he wants, what he needs, is you.

(tl;dr: he’s the hunter trying to control himself, to keep you safe, and you’re willing prey.)

[iwannabeanelfyaknow]

5️⃣7️⃣

[bunnyboyjuice]

Nanami was a big man. His body filled out in all the right places. His burly thighs bulging in his khakis, his muscular arms struggling underneath that white button up shirt. Especially when he wore his suspenders that squeezed his back keeping his blade taut against his muscular form. It was a sight for sore eyes to watch your husband undress at night coming home from work. His muscualr but still soft body looking like a delicious meal just for you. Hearing him sigh as he unbuttons his uncomfortable slacks and dropping his shirt to the floor making your eyes rove over his pecs and tummy with need. It drove you wild watching his large fingers skillfully undo his tie.

While on the other hand Nanami knew what to do with all of his hefty body which was pin you down and treat you right. Those nights his muscular biceps where at either side of your head caging you between him and the bed while his hip piston that girthy cock in and out of you. His grunts and groans filled air as he rutted in and out of your plump pussy. The creaking and groaning in rhythmic time as your moans filling up the room in a lewd harmony. Nanami’s big hands now trailing to your waist holding you.

White dots fill your vision as your toes curl you moans getting louder and louder your pussy gushing as you could felt Nanami’s cock kissing your gummy walls. Nanami moaned louder his thrust getting sloppier by the second the pace getting more and more uneven until his warm sticky seed filled you up.

Nanami gazed down at you his soft hazel eyes so full of love for you as he pressed a kiss to your soft pillowy lips. As he pulled out and he walked away to get a warm towel to clean you up with. Another thing you could appreciate about Nanami’s size was the way his warmth enveloped you. His large polar bear arms swaddling you as he scooped you up pulling you closer to him in bed before lay the covers over both of you. It made you feel safe and warm.

[gojoed]

"oh my god satoru you look so cute here!"

"wait wait wait, don't look at those!"

you were currently holding a picture of satoru in your hands. it's nothing you haven't done before, going to the corner store and flipping through recently printed pictures of you and your friends after waiting a week for them to develop.

but this time you weren't holding snapshots of suguru having permanent marker on his face while sleeping or ridiculous photos of satoru and shoko grabbing onto each others hair, fighting over who gets to get the last snack from their stash. this time you held a photo of satoru, except younger. exponentially younger. as in, you just got your hands on a photo of satoru the moment he was born. literally.

like every other newborn he had that faint pink shade on his soft skin, button nose, and little hands that had the chubbiest of fingers. you swore you fell in love all over again with him.

the grown up version of the baby however did not feel the same. he didn't think a visit to his family's prestigious estate would lead to you seeing the one photo he would rather die than having any one of his friends see. he'd rather have you take a photo of him falling flat on his face on a pile of garbage actually.

how you came across that photo of him, he has no idea. you both were currently residing in his old bedroom, laid down on the old tatami mats that still smelled new. all he remembers is you getting up to look for something within the old cabinets of his room before you exclaimed about your recent discovery.

"oh there's more, lemme see."

"nononononono, no! you've already seen enough!"

satoru tried desperately to snatch the small box of photos that was now on the floor. seriously who put this here?? — maybe his mother heard of how he was bringing you along for the weekend and planted a little surprise for you to find. he was unsuccessful, again, as you seemed to be faster than the strongest now since the box was now sitting on your lap �� the stack of photos now in your hands as you flipped through them one by one.

"you used to wear such cute things too! look at that, it's a little onesie with a duck pattern!"

satoru was now internally screaming, his ears blowing out steam now from embarrassment. they must be, since he could feel his face rise in temperature faster than ever, he might even be a new shade of scarlet now. he's resorted now to lying face first on the floor, burying his face in his arms trying to shield himself from your commentary.

he didn't budge when you poked him with your fingers, trying to show him photos of his even younger self. satoru won't deny it, he was cute as a baby. the cutest even (his ego was whispering that) — but to have you witness him in all his newborn glory? that was too much for him. now his image was shattered (the one he created in his head), you won't look at him the same anymore. you'll only think the words cute and adorable, and so on after this. no more comments on how hot he was, how undeniably attractive his smile was.

satoru gojo, was indefinitely, ruined.

that was at least his way of thinking. you were internally dying on the inside.

to think that at such a young age, satoru still held the most striking pair of eyes you've ever seen. even as a baby you could see that he held the heavens and even the depths of hell in them. you can see why many people whispered how his birth had changed everything in the jujutsu world.

but even so, you couldn't bring yourself to care about those old rumors. right now, you were focusing on just how cute he used to look, back when he was just a couple of pounds and was drowning in innocence that any baby had.

"hey satoru?"

"..mm?", well at least you got a reaction.

"who took these photos anyway?"

you had to wait a few seconds until you heard him shuffle, moving on all fours before sitting up and placing himself right next to you. the embarrassment had died down, just a bit. there was still evident pink on his neck, ears, and cheeks.

"it was mostly just my mom and the maids. they were the ones who always dressed me up too."

that made you smile, the image of a fussy satoru not wanting to put baby gloves on with a matching outfit — it was too good not to imagine. a few moments passed before satoru carefully snatched a handful of photos from you. you were about to protest when he began telling you the story behind each of them, or well, the ones he could remember.

maybe you seeing him like that wasn't so bad after all.

p.s., now he's totally gonna send some of these to the group chat. bet he was a cuter looking baby than suguru and shoko anyway.

[snail-day]

Woof based off of this post original art by ldoll_itk on twitter. TW: Yandere, Stalking

Police Dog Hybrid!Nanami wears a muzzle, not because he’s dangerous, he insists, but because society still hasn’t quite learned how to trust hybrids like him. It’s a regulation. Protocol. A precaution, they say. And when he introduces himself to you, all golden-blond and broad-shouldered in that snug uniform, he swears he doesn’t need it. “I’ve never gone feral,” he mutters lowly, voice gravelly behind the metal cage, those shepherd-like ears flicking back in embarrassment as they try to disappear into his hair.

He tries not to inhale too deep the first time you speak to him. But it’s impossible. Your scent hits him like a blow to the chest, a blessed scent. Warm, sweet, maddeningly human. Did non-hybrids always smell this good? This soft? He’s salivating before he even realizes it, tongue pressed firmly to the roof of his mouth, the muzzle suddenly feels tighter. Annoying.

Police Dog Hybrid! Nanami who gets a little too invested in your routine. A little too curious about who you’re seeing, what you’re doing, why your scent is carrying traces of someone else. He starts trailing behind you on patrol even when it’s not his shift. Sniffing. Growling under his breath. He can’t help it; he’s a tracking breed, and you’re his new favorite target.

He shows up at your apartment in the middle of the night, standing over your bed while you sleep, the dim hallway light glinting off the metal of his muzzle. He’s drooling. Saliva dripping onto your sheets as he leans closer, tail swaying slowly behind him. “Don’t be scared,” he murmurs, voice muffled through the cage, “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

No. He’s here to take care of you.

He’s got a stable job, a pension, and instincts hardwired to protect. And really, he’s the biggest, strongest man in your life right now. So maybe you should stop looking for something else.

[madamechrissy]

I wanna write a hurt/no comfort cheating oneshot so bad!!! One that will upset everyone 😭😭😭 like modern arranged gojo is a whore, has a mistress etc, so reader fucks her boss Nanami feeling unwanted for YEARS. (Gojo just fucks her for having a baby but prefers his girl) and like Nanami falls in love with her and gives perfect backshots 😌😌 so she ends up backing away and turns down gojo!!! So gojo loses it and actually wants her bc he's dumb asf, but it's too late and reader ends up fucking nanami and coming home with marks!!! And she ends up with Nanami and gojo ends up alone sad????

Thats my brain talk me out of it 😭😭🤣 can I even do hurt no comfort? (I guess reader would get comfort from Nanami’s dick ✨️)