Happy Horny Friday, Hope Y’all Are Ready So See Bad Boy!Sanemi Talking You Through Your First Time

𝖘𝖔𝖚𝖑 𝖇𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖉 // 𝖙𝖜𝖔: 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖍𝖊𝖎𝖗

↳ cw: minors dni, dark content. proceed at your own risk. pentrative sex x2, riding, doggy, nothing really crazy here tbh, pregnancy, soft sukuna, human!sukuna, good husband fr. ↳ series masterlist ↳ jjk masterlist

you wake up the next morning enveloped in a warmth of an embrace you’ve never known. the sun was filtered red through the sheer curtain hanging over the window; the air a peaceful kind of quiet. you smile in remembrance, at the ache in your muscles and the realization of your new husband’s hard chest beneath you. he snores, you discover, every gentle breath bringing a little growl from his lips. you stifle a giggle to avoid waking him up. you have to smother out a hiss as you adjust yourself on him for the same reason—two more discoveries coming in tow–well three. you were still naked and impaled by a hard cock. now, you had heard stories of this. the old women of your village spoke of the differences between the male and female anatomy and this was one of the biggest inconveniences of being a man–so you’ve been told. men wake up nearly every morning with erections—simply a blood flow effect. however different from most men, it seems not even your husband could avoid such a problem. 

only, it’s creating a problem for you. he’s so big your hips are sore from keeping them in this position for so long–a sweet ache you know you’ll learn to live with. but besides that, you’re having flashbacks to last night, the glorious feeling of being fucked for the first time. you were so meek and unsure, but now…you feel a bit bolstered. it’s like your hips have a mind of their own, whispering to you that the only way to soothe the pain is by using the muscles. he’s asleep, your conquering king of a man. and surely, if being his wife meant being readily available for him to make use of—then the same would also be true in reverse, right? so you lick your lips, blinking the bleariness of sleep out of your eyes, and then push yourself up to lean back on him; his snoring hitches immediately. your eyes dart to study his face, to see if he’s caught you in your sneaky act. but he doesn’t move, his eyes remain closed and still. you’re safe. you set your brow in determination, getting your knees under you properly. 

your heart thumps loudly in your chest. you swear that will wake him before your movements do. but you can’t deny it’s exhilarating. you know you have nothing to fear even if you do wake him after all; except maybe him taking control for himself and ruining your ability to stand for another day. you’re awkward and unsure with your movements like a newborn fawn, slowly rocking back and forth with your head tossed back. you were still naked from the previous nights’ marriage festivities, as was he. so feeling him raw and bare was no issue, a hand sneaking up to fondle your own chest. little satisfied sighs and breathy moans roll freely, a gorgeous melody for anyone’s ears. 

sukuna, of course, has been awake for nearly an hour at this point. he woke up before even you, still soaking in the reality that he has a beautiful little wife tucked away on his cock. that this wasn’t all some realistic dream or cruel technique of an enemy. he spent every second admiring the way your body inhaled and exhaled; the part of your lips and flutter of your lashes as you slept against his heartbeat. he got to spend forever like this, with mornings like these, your supple body tangled up in his own firm one, your soft breasts resting like pillows beneath you. this was too good to be true. 

when you started to rouse, he quickly feigned sleep. part of him wanted to see if you would admire him in the same way he did you—but you were doing one better. it was growing more and more difficult to fake his slumber, your perfect little body bouncing up and down on him, his eyes cracked just wide enough to see your pouty lips purse with the need to shower him in their kisses; cock twitching inside you with the way your tits bounced with every slam down on his monstrous cock. you lean forward, stifling little whimpers as your pussy hugs and squeezes the very life out of him. your lips find his, and he struggles to stay limp and unresponsive. you whine with need, your dainty fingers tracing the calcified mask on his face. he can’t pretend anymore, kissing you back with the unbridled passion you always get from him. you squeal with a mix of surprise and happiness upon realizing that he’s awake, leaning back with a giggle. 

“good morning, husband.” you greet, a lazy smile with lidded eyes, panting with pleasure. 

“what a good morning indeed, my little wife.” he purrs, his voice sending quivers to your pussy. the deep rasp of it was intoxicating, it almost embarrasses you how responsive your body is to it. his massive hands stabilize the width of your hips, a lazy smirk donning his own features. “go on, my queen. make yourself cum with your husband’s cock.” he insists, fire blazing in those already crimson eyes. 

he has such a way with words. your pussy clamps around him again, fits of spasms causing you to flutter as well as rock your hips. he was sensitive from sheathing himself inside of your cozy cunt all night, and the way you look and sound doesn’t help matters. he knows he only has minute before you both cum, and these are minutes he’ll cherish until he gets to do it again tonight. 

“ryo–men!” you whimper brokenly, the sound of it like a chant to his ears—a name he used to despise hearing upon the lips of others was a treasure coming from you. sukuna was too formal for his wife to use with him, he certainly used your name enough. your head bobs quickly, brows pinching in sheer pleasure. it’s the telltale sign, he’s discovered, that you’re close to cumming beautifully. 

“yes, my precious little lamb, cum for me…” he demands in a tone that declared nothing but his fondness for you. your body shudders forward, jumping to obey his command, everything tightens up; your cunt around his cock, your legs on either side of his thick torso, even your pretty nipples harden up again. then he feels the gush of fluid coat his stiff length before that erupts inside you too. you slump against the comfort of his tattooed chest, purring happily at the feeling of his seed. you are trying to turn that into an heir for him after all. his hearty chuckles bring you back to the present moment, where his hands brace your hips. “what a pleasant way to start my day, little lamb.”

you smile, sitting up to meet his smitten red eyes. “i hope we spend most of our mornings this way.” you nod, just the silky sheet wrapped around your little frame. he arches a brow at that, a lazy grin that still clearly came from this softened morning state of him. 

“most? not all~” he teases, sitting up to pepper kisses to your face; his arms tighten around your back, biceps flexing to hold you taut to his body. this was a version of him that was only for you, you decided, the morning time has nothing to do with it. 

“i think my legs may fall off if i try to do that every morning–” you giggle, the sound so beautifully relaxing to his mind he can do nothing but laugh with you. that’s so foreign, laughing from a place of genuine joy instead of malice or brutal teasing. but it feels good. it feels like something he could get used to in your presence, a delight he could only indulge in with you. you were warm and kind and soft, the antithesis of everything he was. but you were also bold, and fiery, and honest—other traits he values just as much as waking up body on body. you complete him, a total monster, with your good humor and even temper–there is no doubt about it, you are the love of his life. 

and he would do anything to protect you. 

when a knock sounds at the door, he finds himself tucking you behind him with his left arms, staring at the heavy wood to register the energy behind it. he grunts his relief, covering you properly with the other fur blankets of the mattress. 

“you may enter, uraume.” his deep voice thundered , giving you a nod of reassurance as the knob clicks to open. in struts someone in long robes and white hair styled in a bob, red streaks around the center. 

“sukuna-sama,” they bow deeply, tucking their hands inside their sleeves. “good morning. i hope you had a good rest.” you feel something akin to jealousy bubbling in your gut. they bow again. “my queen, i am honored to meet you. i am your humble servant, please send for me should you need anything.” they hum. 

“good, good. get us breakfast.” sukuna smirks, fond of the unsure smile on your face. not only do you love him, but you’ll get jealous over him? and that fact fills him with such pride he doesn’t know what else to do but smirk. oh the surprises you’re showing him daily…

uraume bows once more and exits the room on a mission to get their boss and his new wife something to eat. 

“uraume is an outcast like i was. i have cared for them as my servant since we came across each other. they are loyal–but i can promise there is nothing to worry about, my love.” he says tenderly. you don’t doubt him, you would never doubt him. but his words put you at ease. you nod a few times, twisting to give him another kiss before slipping out of bed to freshen up before the faithful servant returns to see you so disheveled. 

he grabs your cheek before you can escape him completely, “you trust me.” 

your eyes bounce between the mask and his plain eye. “of course i do.” you grin, “i’m just going to get dressed for the day!” you hum, leaning into the warmth that takes up your entire head and face. he smiles softly.

“good, we have a big day ahead of us.” he says, admiring the glow to your skin, the happiness crinkling your eyes. “we’ll have an official coronation by the end of the week. the people from the lands i have conquered will recognize their rulers or die.” he hums, a pleasant lilt to his voice even when he’s saying something vicious like that. “then we’ll focus on the renovations to the castle and building our family.” 

your heart thumps. he has such big plans, all of which include you. he wants to create a life with you, for you. the strongest man on the planet wants you to be the mother of his children and rightful queen in ruling alongside him—something he wants to share with you. he has all the power in the world to make you completely and utterly subservient to him—to take what he wants and not waste his time on anything else. marrying at all spoke volumes, but the genuine love he handles you with is enamoring in and of itself. 

“i can’t wait. planning will be fun. i love to host.” you wiggle your hips, opening your closet to find some robes for the day. he lays on his side and lovingly watches you comb through your hair and wash your face clean. your body is littered with lovebites from the night before, some only reddened from his added attention this morning. you’re so radiant to a point he almost doesn’t want anyone to look at you. but alas, you’re a natural born leader and a queen too perfect to hide away. even if that will manifest his own jealousy. your happiness is his primary goal—something he never thought he would say. 

uraume returns with omurice for the two of you, and eagerly discusses plans about the coronation with you. they will spread the word immediately so that the subjects from far and wide may travel in for the event. and uraume will contact the finest architects to start bringing sukuna’s designs to life. your excitement is palpable by the time you finish breakfast. 

the rest of the week ticks by without much fanfare. the two of you have settled in your makeshift palace—or castle as sukuna has taken to calling it. your life as a married woman is lavish. someone brings you your food and runs your bath water for you, braids your hair as soon as it’s combed through—which your husband insists on doing himself. he dotes on you in all of his spare time, working tirelessly to “welcome” all the travelers into the growing city he was proud to call home. this was his wife’s birthplace, of course he would erect your lives here. 

the night before the coronation, he comes to bed later than usual. “some of these nasty little gremlins talk incessantly–” he complains, finding you in a tight silken nightgown laying atop the sheets. you seemingly know what you do to him. it’s already hard not to destroy your little body, and then you have to go and provoke him–

“i missed you.” you purr, crawling on your knees to the end of the bed. oh the desire burning through his veins is ominous for you. you may have to be crowned seated tomorrow. “i know you were so busy today…let’s unwind?” you sit back on your haunches. he would move mountains to keep you here like this forever. 

his eyes siren in on you, merely a wolf preying on his lamb. “i missed you too, tiny queen.” he stalks forward, pawing at the breadth of your hips, the swells of your breast. “you know just how to make a bothersome day better.” he mutters, tucking his face into the crook of your neck, hot breath fanning over your skin—raising goosebumps in its wake. the simple touch of his hands mixed with the feeling of his voice rumbling against your veins had your eyes shutting to try and tame the yearning stinging in your pussy. “i want to put my children in you.”

a small moan slips past your lips. your black widow technique is suited for it, just an added ability to be fertile since it’s related to animals and mother earth. his promises to breed you only activated a very deep seeded part of you that only he can satisfy. he eases you back, turning you to a position on your knees. you brace yourself, the chill of excitement racing down your spine. his large hand smoothes against the soft pudge of your belly, prompting you to sink in against it in the most perfect arch. 

“i’ll be nestled in so nicely my little lamb,” he promises, the deep silken baritone of his voice has you clenching, the familiar wetness drooling down your thighs. you’re so easily worked up. but he can’t bring himself to just take from you, his inability to say how much he loves you easily replaced by his need to show it. his hand angles lower, calloused middle finger petting back the hood of your precious clit, your breath catching in your throat. “so deep i’ll cum straight into your womb.” 

just his presence makes your head woozy. that’s before the gentle circles to your swollen bundle, before his strong body pressed against your back had your knees wobbling against the mattress. he found it adorable that your hips moved on their own, grinding into his hand to seek your own pleasure. he loved watching it, loved listening to your little whimpers as you processed just how good a few of his digits could make you feel. “so much cum, drown your poor insides,” he sighs in faux boredom, grinning as you fling your head back with a gasp. “do it, go ahead.” 

and how could you not? the perfect combination of touch and taunts to get you to the precipice. your orgasm shatters your insides, eyes widening at the intensity. that’s a feeling you’ll never entirely get used to no matter how many times sukuna gives it to you. he chuckles fondly, tapping your swelling cunt. you hear the shuffle of fabric and then you feel it; his weighty cockhead dripping against your entrance. “that’s a good little wife, let’s see how many you can handle on my cock…” 

your hands fist the sheets, body going rigid to accommodate his size in this position. it hurts so blisteringly good, lightning sparkling in your vision as he, as promised, prods at your poor cervix, in for a long ride tonight. his hands position themselves on your hips, drawing the fat of your ass along the fat length of him, eliciting wanton moan after wanton moan from you. you stretch your arms out in front of you like a cat, grunting and whining from the way his hips collide with your asscheeks. it’s all you can hear though, even drowning out the sounds of your own moans. he’s drilling you; cramming inches of dick in such a small space he can’t believe you’re real. no wonder he’s so taken with you. he goes impossibly harder–faster, your arms giving out beneath you–face collapsing into the bed. 

“ryo—” your voice is muffled from the sheets, body crumpled up beneath him. oh it’s so hard not to break you entirely—only out of his utter love for you is he able to keep a clear mind, be thankful that you have enamored him so. your hands brace against the headboard, nails scratching at the wood in front of you, vision completely blacked out–the only thing you can think of is how fuzzy you feel all over. 

“cum, i’ll turn you over and keep going.” he growls against your shoulder, looping an arm around your neck to put you in a secured headlock. it’s not choking, but it’s suffocating all the same. the cushion of his strapping bicep makes you drool from both ends, spasming around your husband’s cock for the nth time since you’ve been married. his voice commands such obedience, so domineering in the way that he orders you cum for him. your body physically cannot disobey. 

his grin is devilish once he feels the warm rush, and he stays good on his promise, flipping you to a more comfortable position on your back. “that’s one…” he hums softly, picking up your legs at their bend, pinning them to his hips as he slides back in. you scream out at the added pressure, the stimulation so much to endure at the hands of your passionate husband.

instantly, he’s rocking slowly. you know there’s a plan, a secret bite. he’s hitting you so deep, smacking into your breeding spot each and every time, warming it up to the idea of taking every drop of him. your skin glistens with a thin sheen of sweat, lips swollen and pink from all the chewing on them to quiet yourself. your gorgeous tits bounce to punctuate every thrust–he can’t get enough of you. he puts your legs on his shoulders with a little snarl, nipping at the skin on your neck. 

you’re drifting blissfully in waves of pleasure, barely conscious already. “so beautiful, fucked out, making cream on my dick..” he chuckles into your ear, licking the shell and nipping the lobe before giving you a hungry kiss. it demonstrates his true passion, his genuine worship of his wife. his hips snap a little faster, mouth angled over yours to swallow up all your moans. “so good for her husband. taking me so very well..” 

he ends up drawing four orgasms out of you total. tomorrow he’ll try five—in the name of celebration of course! you’ll officially be king and queen tomorrow. and he intends to keep such festivities going for as long as he can. for once, sukuna has a lot to celebrate. 

the next day, uraume is stretched thin trying to attend to you both. you require the most attention, as your hair and robes are rather intricate and need assistance to put together. but sukuna is impatient and doesn’t like to be separated from you for any length of time, so he insists on changing in the room with you and sitting with you as your hair is braided and weaved. no one would have pegged him as the clingy type—but it does make sense when you think on it past his brute surface. you are the only person he has ever cherished. putting you in danger was something he just simply wasn’t willing to do. problem is, he considers anywhere out of his immediate sight as danger. 

eventually though, you’re dressed like the queen you’re soon to become. sukuna wore simply ravishing black robes, allowing all the color and decor for his beautiful bride. he smiles at you as you step off of the stool in all your glory. 

“you look beautiful in that…you always do.” he says with a nearly dopey expression on his face. he reaches for your hand and tucks it around his bicep, leading you out on the terrace overlooking the crowd. a raucous roar greets the two of you a you come into the scene, red and black flowing fabric swaying with the gentle breeze; highlighting the complexion of your skin and the warmth of your smile. 

a town shaman performs the crowning rite. it’s short and simple, your crowns anything but. while the general consensus of the crowd seems pleasant, you can pick out a few less than satisfied faces out amongst the rest of your new congregation–a hubbub of your old one. sukuna takes your hand once again, standing before everyone on an elevated platform, leaving without another word. no grand speech, no slaughtering to strike fear into their hearts. just the faint smile as he leads you back to the quarters you’ve come to love so much.

you almost expect him to get straight to it, fiddling with the tie on your dress robes, but he helps you with a gentle hand. he’s still in disbelief, honestly. these are dreams he hadn’t even dared to dream before. you make everything better. it’s…shocking. he helps you into your regular nightgown, disrobing on his own. “how does it feel..? to officially be queen–my queen?” he asks as he peels back the covers for you. he seems eager to pick your brain, and you know it’s his way of figuring out how he feels exactly too.

“i feel good. i feel like we have a lot to do, and we have a lot of support and ability to make this a really successful reign, my love.” you smile. laying on your side to look at him. he’s mirroring your posture, reaching out to paw at your hips, bringing you closer, wrapping his frame around yours in a tight hug. “i feel like we’ve already accomplished so much in bringing all these people together!” 

your answer brings a smile to his face. he should have known it would be some optimistic cute utterance like that, you’re genuinely too sweet sometimes. “how about you? how do you feel?” 

“i feel…like i am dreaming.” he replies, nuzzling his nose against yours. the gesture makes your heart swell and heat up. you just spend a few moments gazing at each other. 

“you’re not dreaming.” you whisper between you, fluttering lashes just flirting with him. a grin spreads his cheeks. 

“come here and prove it.” 

he gives you the promised five orgasms that night, and your body is so spent you sleep through most of the next day, spending those remaining daylight hours out in the flower field on a picnic date with your husband. 

the next week was spent hosting the contractors and architects, sitting in on the meetings with your king husband to weigh in on your own designs and choices. it’s fun to see everything laid out so simply, every image and description the two of you have was brought to life. the cobblestone kitchen idea, the long hallways, the wrapping stairs and canopy bed. all of it. 

the week after that, they start construction. it’s been about two and a half months into your marriage–two months have passed already? how could that be?

“m’lady? lunch.” uraume’s voice rips you from your own head. you had yet to drag yourself out of bed this morning. you hadn’t been feeling very well at all the past few days, and the idea of eating whatever that awful smell was had your stomach bubbling. uraume hadn’t even fully entered the room yet, seeing you sneer at your food, they sigh heavily. “what is it, do you not like my cooking all of a sudden?”

your husband got up on schedule to oversee some of the work being done today and was no doubt sending his most loyal servant in to check on you. you really were feeling horrible, if it weren’t for their usefulness you’d have half a mind to be annoyed with sukuna for sending them. you shake your head fervently. 

“no–i dunno, there must be some flu going around, i’m sure it will pass.” you sigh, snuggling the blankets up to your face. 

“let me bring the healer. perhaps she has a tonic to ease your nausea. or perhaps it’s the news you’ve been waiting for, my queen.” they say with a giddy little grin. their reminder has you gasping. 

“yes, please fetch her. do not tell the king until we know for certain, please?” you ask hopefully. it’s always a touch sell to have uraume keep anything away from sukuna. but to your surprise, they nod. this is news that you should break yourself. 

sure enough, uraume returns with the village healer nearly an hour later. sukuna is still tied up with the building plans—you can hear him yelling orders from your bedroom—but you’re actually grateful to be without him for now. you lay down for her and answer her questions about your marriage dates and your last bleeding. 

she feels your stomach, listening with a tool you’ve never seen before. 

“ahh~ seems your servant had the right idea. it seems the queen is pregnant. congratulations.” she bows her head deeply, your eyes filling with tears as you exchange a sweet look with uraume, how special for them to be a part of this moment. 

“thank you–” you manage with a gasp, absolutely over the moon, needing desperately to see your husband. this was news you’d never be able to keep to yourself for long. uraume seems to know exactly what you’re thinking; offering to fetch him instantly. 

you stand at the foot of your bed, pacing in wait. you have no idea what uraume said to draw him in your direction, and you’re hurrying to think of a good way to share the news. you didn’t have very long, your husband bursting into the room with panicked eyes searching over you. 

“uraume says the healer was here—are you alright?” he says, his lower set of hands reaching for yours. your grin blossoms, betraying every intention you had of playing coy. 

“i’m fine, my love. i’m more than fine. i’m pregnant!” you squeal, the news like someone sucked the air out of his lungs. you squeeze his hands, beautifully happy—contagiously happy. it’s finally real, you’re going to grow the family. you’re making all his dream reality. he blinks at you, wondering if that was just his active imagination. 

“what?” he blinks, bringing you closer, holding your hips, “say it again.” 

“i’m pregnant, sukuna. we’re going to have a baby. a little heir!!” you grin from ear to ear, being scooped up in his strong arms a second later. you’re spinning around the room in a fit of giggles, his touch secure and tight. 

if you thought your husband was clingy before, good luck getting him to leave your side now.

tags: @neon-crow @skypperlegacy @gis4greenandgreenisgre4t @secondos-slut @alltimenogoaway-blog @tragedyofabrokensoul @eiaaasamantha asukahiriko2 @t4naiis @thejujvtsupost @mymelx @maskedpacific @berranurates @enchantingartisanwitch @alastors-radio @gojosukuna2268 @hannas16 @alwaysfreakingout @thepurpleempath

“Fuck, love,” Sanemi cursed, his voice husky as he slowly dragged his cock out before thrusting all the way back in, eliciting a trail of moans from the girl pressed against the counter. She was enveloped in the tight embrace of her husband, who towered over her smaller frame. His strong grip was the only thing keeping her from collapsing to the floor, her knees weak and trembling like jelly.

“Sa-Sanemi! Y-you-your mis-mission!” she stuttered, her words breaking into gasps as Sanemi thrust once more, his cock rubbing against all the right places and hitting that sweet, gummy spot that had her seeing stars.

“I want to have all of you before I head out,” he grunted, his head tilting upwards as her walls clenched tightly around him. The way she took him in so perfectly made him want to pound into her, but he relished the novelty of this new position.

How did they end up like this?

Sanemi had been getting ready for his mission, donning his gear, when a soft humming reached his ears. Curious, he followed the sound to the kitchen and was greeted by an enchanting sight: his wife, lovingly preparing ohagis for him to take on his mission, humming a sweet, unfamiliar tune. She looked so pretty, so precious, and the domestic scene filled him with a warmth that quickly turned into something more primal.

He watched her for a moment, his eyes tracing the gentle sway of her hips and the delicate movements of her hands. Unbeknownst to him, his blood was rushing downward, pooling in his groin, and he felt himself growing hard. This was supposed to be an innocent moment, but his body had other plans.

Y/n didn’t notice Sanemi’s presence until she felt something hard pressing against her clothed ass, making her squeak in surprise. Her cheeks flushed a deep red, and a soft gasp escaped her lips as she realized what it was.

Before she knew it, Sanemi had her pinned against the counter, her kimono bunched up around her waist. His hands were everywhere—on her hips, her waist, her breasts—keeping her anchored to him. Her own hands scrabbled at his muscular arms, seeking purchase as he moved inside her.

“Sanemi,” she whimpered, her voice a mix of pleasure and urgency. “You need to go…”

“Not yet,” he murmured against her ear, his breath hot and ragged. “I need to feel you, to remember this when I’m out there. Let me take care of you first.”

Each thrust was deliberate, designed to elicit the most pleasure from her. Her body responded instinctively, arching back into him, her moans growing louder with each movement. The sounds of their lovemaking filled the kitchen, mingling with the faint smell of the ohagis she had been preparing.

Sanemi’s hands roamed over her body, caressing her skin, memorizing every curve and dip. His love for her was fierce, and he wanted to show her just how much she meant to him before he had to leave. He could feel her tightening around him, her breaths coming in short, sharp bursts.

“Sanemi, please…” she cried out, her voice trembling with the intensity of her impending climax.

Sanemi's hand cupped her jaw, gently tilting her head towards him before his lips crashed onto hers. His tongue invaded her mouth, drawing muffled moans from her as he deepened the kiss. The intensity of his thrusts increased, each one more powerful than the last. At this point, he was practically pounding into her, relentlessly hitting that perfect spot inside her over and over again.

Her fingers dug into his arms, trying to hold on as waves of pleasure coursed through her body. The kitchen echoed with the sounds of their lovemaking, a symphony of flesh meeting flesh, mingled moans, and ragged breaths. Her back was pressed against his muscular chest, her abdomen pinned against the counter. The discomfort only heightened her senses, making every touch and movement feel even more intense.

Sanemi's other hand gripped her hip, pulling her closer with each thrust, his need for her overwhelming. He could feel her tightening around him, her body responding to his with an urgency that matched his own. The friction, the heat, the closeness—it was all too much and not enough at the same time.

His lips left hers, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down her neck, sucking on the delicate skin there, leaving marks that would remind them both of this moment. Her moans turned into whimpers, her head falling back to give him more access as he continued his assault on her senses.

"Sanemi," she gasped, her voice barely a whisper amidst her moans, "I'm so close..."He growled against her neck, his breath hot and heavy. "I know, love. Let go for me. I want to feel you come around me.

"His words, coupled with the relentless pace of his thrusts, pushed her over the edge. Her body tensed, then shuddered violently as her orgasm ripped through her, her walls clenching around him tightly. She cried out his name, her voice breaking as she came undone.

Sanemi felt her release, the way her body milked him for everything he had. With a final, powerful thrust, he let himself go, spilling inside her with a guttural groan. His grip on her tightened as he rode out his own orgasm, the intensity of it leaving him breathless.

They stayed like that for a moment, their bodies trembling and hearts racing, the world around them fading away. Slowly, Sanemi pulled back, looking into her eyes with a mixture of tenderness and possessiveness. He gently kissed her forehead, his hands still cradling her face.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. "I’ll always come back to you."

She nodded, her own eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I love you too, Sanemi. Be safe."

And a fluff thought stemming from bundle of joy just some years after

All I'm cracking up at is this big scary wind hashira, terrifies the lower ranked slayers. Middle of training when they break for lunch, Y/N coming by with their now toddler daughter. Watch the slayers head spin when this lil girl is absolutely delighted to see her dad, running to hug his leg squealing

No, because this has sent me into a spiral.

Imagine Sanemi has the lower-ranked slayers nearly passing out from how brutal his training is, but they're also too scared to actually stop because they know it will just make their day a thousand times worse.

Sanemi is in the middle of laying into one of them because his form was wrongwrongwrong and how can he possibly expect to cut a demon's head off if he can't even hold a fucking sword, when they're interrupted by a shriek of laughter and joy from across the training grounds.

At first, the group of trainees see the Lunar Hashira crossing the dirt towards them, and they think, oh thank god, she's here to save us from Shinazugawa's wrath, she's going to help, thank god, thank god.

But instead she stops, and she's not looking at them, she's looking at the Wind Pillar and the Wind Pillar alone (like hello?? they're here too?? damn), and he stops the entire training session.

Suddenly, a small, white-haired, pink-cheeked miniature human peeks out from behind the Lunar Pillar's leg. She takes one look at the scarred menace who is low-key torturing this poor group of slayers, and she lets out the loudest little shriek of delight and begins toddling towards Shinazugawa as fast as her little chubby legs can carry her because she just learned to walk and now nothing can stop her.

And Shinazugawa smiles, and not in his signature sadistic manner that makes his trainees nearly wet themselves, but he has an actual genuine smile on that scarred face of his. Then, he does something even creepier -- he laughs.

He squats down and opens his arms as this little ball of pudge and snowy hair waddles to him, and he scoops her up and puts her on his shoulders while she claps her little hands together, laughing.

Sanemi then turns back to the group and for half a second, they think maybe Shinazugawa is in a good enough mood to dismiss them for the day because he can't possibly want his little angel to see him all scary and mean and angry, right?

Sanemi does decide he's done with training for the day -- but they're not. Instead, the Lunar Hashira -- his wife -- is stepping in to run them on defensive drills. Most of them haven't trained under the Lunar Hashira, so they breathe a sigh of relief, because surely, surely her training cannot be anywhere near as life-threatening as Shinazugawa's.

The Lunar Hashira looks so kind, so gentle, as she unsheathes her actual fucking weapon and begins using her breathing forms on them (because it's a mostly defensive-style of fighting, but that doesn't mean she doesn't have some very fast, very brutal offensive techniques saved for when she needs them). The slayers are forced to run, to contort their bodies into unimaginable shapes in a desperate attempt to dodge her crescent-shaped attacks. By the time the sun sets, several of them have thrown up, and a couple of them have passed out.

Meanwhile, Sanemi stands off to the sidelines, daughter still balanced on his shoulders, as she oohs and ahhs the display of lights and shapes unfolding before her. She squeals in delight every time her mama makes another pretty crescent moon and is so entranced by the dazzling show before her that she can't hear the screams of the slayers trying desperately avoid getting slashed to pieces.

And Sanemi has never been happier in his entire life.

-------------------------

Sanemi's proudest moment is when his daughter, who just hit speaking age, loudly says "fuck!" in her little, cute voice when she drops her piece of ohagi in the dirt outside their estate one afternoon. Too bad she also said it in front of her mother, and suddenly Sanemi's proudest moment also becomes the moment he learns what true fear is.

Hello yes I may have a jjk smau request for you 👀

Boyfriend texts with Sukuna perhaps plz ? 👁👅👁

⊹˚.⋆ TEXTING YOUR BOYFRIEND - RYOMEN SUKUNA

℘. flora's notes : it feels so good to write and interact with you guys on here, i missed u all<3 thank you for 1.2k and 1.3k loves💓💓 also if you have any requests please send them I'm facing a writer's block😫

℘. to dahlia : baby you've been supporting my acc for a looong time now and you're always so so sweet with your asks, dms and replies, they mean a lot to me thank you for being you<33

℘. infos : cussing (I mean it's sukuna...), legal age gap mentioned (reader is a gen z over the age of 18), female, male, gn reader friendly 💓

m.list | reblog and comment if u enjoyed !

© izukuisbaby. comments appreciated ! although do not modify, translate, copy, claim as your own or repost on any app/platform/social media (this applies to all of my content)💓

No Good Deed Goes Unpunished.(Yandere! Greaser! Sanemi x Reader.)Pt.2

TW: Rape, non-con, dub con, domestic abuse, sexual abuse, misogyny, violence, toxic relationships, mind fuck, Reader doesn’t have good friends, her mom sucks, fuck Kyogo Shinazugawa. Mental health, smoking, drinking, child abuse. reckless driving, murder.

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“Are you ready, doll?”

I have no words for him. I look up at my fiancé’s scarred face, a smile plastered on and all I feel is regret. My cream white wedding dress does nothing to hide my growing bump. My feet feel swollen within the heels they were stuffed into and my make-up was on the verge of being ruined. 

The only thing I feel grateful for is the long white veil covering my face. I don’t want him to see me as I am. All dolled up and pretty as he had carefully planned for all along. I simply nodded as we linked arms and walked down the aisle of the church.

As the organ played

As the mocking birds sang their song

As our feet clicked against the tilted floor

I only had one thing plaguing my mind.

.

Why the fuck didn’t I run while I still had the chance?

Keep reading

just can't get enough

part 2/series masterlist

Pairing; Rookie!Virgin!Leon S Kennedy x fem reader

Summary; Leon's fresh out of the academy and into the Raccoon City police department-and he's still a virgin. Not only that, but he has almost no idea what what sex even is. Then he meets you, and his body starts wanting things. Or, the first 3 stages of Leon Kennedy learning about his body.

Warnings; 18+ minors dni or I'll set nemesis on u! there's dirty thoughts, lottttttta boners, a wet dream, male masturbation, fantasies, porn watching kinda, cold showers, can't remember what else so!

(a/n) uh basically everyone is ooc v sorry bout that, idek what chris is doing in this, leon is 21 and reader is like 20/21? idk lets say everyone is in their 20's yeah? leon is like. utterly clueless in this. like he knows NOTHING! lets also ignore all the biological stuff and how he would have learned abt this beforehand and that he would prosb have more wet dreams in general if he wasn't doing anything like stfu this is just what happened to fall out of my mind- title is Just Can't Get Enough by Depeche Mode

Word Count; just under 8.7k

stage 1

The moment Leon steps into the station, his eyes land on you. Sitting behind the front desk, chatting to a man and laughing as you play with a pen. It’s like something in him locks onto you just then, like his mind fixates on you and suddenly he can’t see anyone else. 

The man showing him around doesn’t notice Leon’s distraction. Simply talks to him about the water coolers and the break room while Leon nods along, humming in agreement at all the right times as he stares across at you now typing away at your computer. 

He can see you’re not a cop, evidenced by the white blouse, silky satin fabric molding over your skin, and the black pencil skirt hugging your figure. He’s never been one to let himself get distracted by a pretty face or fall at a woman’s feet-there’s a reason he excelled at his training while other students became preoccupied after all, but he finds himself distracted nonetheless. 

It makes something in his gut stir, makes it drop strangely and he suddenly needs to be near you. His fingers twitch ever so slightly, envisioning his grip on your waist, before he blinks and realises you’re staring back at him, amused curiosity painted all over your features. 

His cheeks flush instantly, blooming with heat as he bites his bottom lip embarrassedly and fidgets with his gun holster in nervousness. 

His guide sees him not paying the slightest bit of attention and follows his gaze, but instead (thankfully) assumes Leon must be focused on the cop standing a few feet in front of your desk. He’s the classically handsome type, and Leon realises that this is the cop you were talking to only a couple of minutes ago. 

“Oh Chris? He’s accomplished alright, more arrests than anyone here and the highest records for pretty much anything you can name-best in the shooting range as well, until you showed up I guess-”

Leon feels a burst of pride, still partly feeling like he’s in the academy and trying to be the best, accomplish the most. The pride is quickly replaced with embarrassment when he realises that he also selfishly somehow wants you to see that he’s better than this man. That he’s beaten Chris’ record, and that Leon could be the one standing by your desk as you laugh and smile instead of this big burly officer. 

His cheeks flush even more, glowing red as he tries to figure out what the heck is going on with his body and his mind. He’s never been this enamoured by a pretty face before-he appreciated the beauty of some of his fellow cadets, recognised his vague attraction to some classmates, but he can’t remember a time he was ever struck dumb by the sheer presence of someone. An after effect of being raised in a fairly religious and abstinent environment, he supposes. It still makes him feel odd though, makes him wonder why he feels so hot and nervous all of a sudden. What’s even more baffling is why his stomach keeps flipping when you adjust your bra strap, why his gut feels tight when your skirt rides up ever so slightly as you cross your legs. 

Leon’s guide is still talking about Chris, saying what a man he is and how he treats everyone the same, what a perfect officer and all round good friend and coworker he is. Again, Leon questions himself. Why so bothered?? Why suddenly so annoyed about a man I’ve never met and by all accounts seems to be an upstanding citizen?

His brows furrow confusedly when you smile at Chris and wave as he walks past, and his stomach suddenly doesn’t feel so good. The feeling is baffling, he doesn’t even know you. He hasn’t even met you yet, has only stared at you from across the room-and yet you’ve done something to him. You’ve made something happen to his body, given him an odd feeling that he doesn’t know how to get rid of. One that makes his uniform feel two sizes too small and the station feel humid.

As his guide moves on to the bullpen next door he tries to bury the feeling and ignore whatever is happening with his body. It’s more difficult than he anticipates, especially since he doesn’t actually know what’s happening. 

The heat and the tension eases slightly when you’re out of view, but there’s still that tugging feeling within him where his pulse is oddly loud and present and he just craves your presence. How weird. 

The rest of his day is spent meeting his fellow officers and superiors, eating the cake they bought to welcome him and setting up his things at his new desk. The heaviness within him fades after a little while, and you don’t appear again for a few hours so he relaxes again. Focuses on making some friends and familiarising himself with the computer systems instead of what you did to him. 

Chris and a few guys insist on taking him out at the end of the day, want to take him to the bar down the street and get him drunk and get him laid. 

Leon flushes brightly yet again at their words and wonders if you’ll be joining them. Then he immediately scolds himself for thinking so boldly about a woman he wasn’t even introduced to-he doesn’t even know why he has this urge to meet you so badly, doesn’t even know what the feeling in his lower belly was and why he kept thinking about the colour of your bra strap. Inappropriate, Leon. Get a grip and start being respectful, be good, like you were taught. 

He manages to stick with just a couple of beers when they get to the bar-you didn’t join them and he felt something that he couldn’t tell if it was relief or annoyance-and pretend he’s getting tipsy as the other men get drunk. 

With devoted religious parents, he can truthfully say he never really rebelled or experimented. Many kids would go the opposite way and act out, drink and smoke and steal and fuck-Leon often wonders if he should be proud or possibly ashamed that he didn’t particularly go either way. Simply figured out his parents life wasn’t for him and slowly stopped going to church, focused a little more on the end of his high school days and on getting into the academy. 

The only part that bothers him is his lack of…knowledge. 

It pains him that there’s many facets of regular life that he’s almost completely unaware of. Things most people were taught about in school or by their parents just passed him by, weren’t deemed important or were considered sinful by his church and his parents. He’s somewhat made his peace with drinking, though for a few long years he struggled with the onset of shame that would floor him whenever he picked up a drink. 

He’s never gotten drunk. Only slowly works his way through pints as his companions go hell for leather. He’s never had any desire to smoke or steal either, never had any desire to cloud his mind or dull his senses and committing any kind of crime seems outrageous if you’re trying to become an accomplished member of the police force. 

One thing that still baffles him though? 

Sex. 

Even purely just the logistics of it. 

By the time his parents passed and he’d stopped going to church, he was way past the point where most teens learn about sex. And being raised in an abstinent, premarital-sex-is-a-sin, masturbation-is-a-sin household, well, there weren’t many opportunities to learn about such things. 

Other students weren’t exactly telling him in detail what happens when you have sex either, after all why wouldn’t he know?? 

By the time he got to the academy it seemed odd and embarrassing to ask. 

What would he even say?

What’s sex? How do you have sex? How do you get laid? What happens when you have sex???

No, it ended up being easier to just smile and laugh when his fellow cadets joked about ‘hitting it from the back’ and pretend he was just a little more shy than the rest of them, rather than admitting that he has no fucking clue what they meant.

So when Chris asks if he has his eye on any of the women sitting at the bar, he flounders for a second. Buys some time looking around carefully and smiling while he thinks about how much Chris has drunk, whether he’ll remember much of this in the morning. 

Leon furrows his brow and chuckles a little, placates Chris by drinking some more of his pint and then shaking his head a little. 

Shrugs and says, “Too tired for that Redfield, can’t be bothered with that fuss when I’ve got a nice pint here-”

Knows from experience that he’s most likely to be left alone if he makes a demeaning comment about women rather than dodging the question. It settles uncomfortably in him whenever he does it, but is vastly preferable to telling a bunch of grown men that he’s out of the police academy and has still never had sex. That he doesn’t even really know what it is, only pecked a girl on the lips once when he was about six, that he’s never watched any kind of pornographic content and that he doesn’t even know how to go about touching himself. No, much easier to make a little uncomfortable comment and leave it to the other guys to change the subject. 

The evening doesn’t go on for much longer and before many more drinks are consumed Leon finds himself supporting Chris as they all stumble out of the bar. Leon manages to pour him into a cab and shut the door on him as he rolls around in the backseat and scrabbles drunkenly at the car window. 

With a lot of effort, Chris manages to roll it down and hangs his head out, beckoning Leon closer and wearing a wide grin. 

“Dude-dude you should-you gotta go back in there-you see the-that blonde chick at the-at the bar? Yeah-yeah man you gotta-dudeee you gotta check that shit out! First day at the station man! Gotta-gotta go-gotta get your dick wet, rookie!”

Leon holds back a laugh when the cab starts driving away and ‘rookie’ is dragged out as Chris’s head gets pulled backward, leaving a ‘rookieeeeeeeeee’ echoing around the busy street. 

His walk home is relatively uneventful, just thinking over the events of the day and his new colleagues. It’s an odd feeling, knowing he’s just met men who will depend on him to save their lives at some point, and that he might rely on to save his one day. At least they’re amiable, he thinks, at least they seem like fun and he’s gotten along with them so far. And at least no one realised how naive he is. 

The only spanner in the works was you. 

He still doesn’t know what exactly happened to his body when he saw you, it wasn’t like when he saw criminals or perps and instinctively knew they were no good, and it wasn’t like when he saw men like Chris and thought they’d make suitable friends. It was just…something else. 

-

Leon’s sober again by the time he reaches his apartment, the limited two pints and cold night breeze working fast. 

He methodically goes about his routine, dropping keys into the bowl by the door, towing his shoes into the rack, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, walking to his room and slowly stripping his watch, holster and badge off onto the dresser. 

And still, he thinks of you.

First day at his new job, fresh out the academy, new friends, new apartment-and you’re on his mind. 

He starts his shower and lets it run for a few minutes, holding his hand under it briefly before turning the temperature dial to his preferred. Loosening his tie, his mind wanders back to the way you leaned back in your chair. How he’d seen you stretch your arms a little around the back of your chair as you’d frowned at your computer screen. It makes him frown, the memory making his heart beat a fraction faster just like it had when he’d seen it. 

As he unbuttons his shirt he thinks of yours. The white fabric, sleek satin flowing over your figure and shifting with every slight movement. It occurs to him with a jolt that he took in much more about you than he thought he did at the time. He hadn't realised he’d paid so much attention to the way the sleeves were rolled up and sitting comfortably above your elbows. But now, his gut feels tight again as he remembers the colour of your bra ghosting through your blouse, just barely there but apparently visible enough to do something to him. 

His shirt is thrown into the corner of his bathroom with a little more force than usual, frustration pawing at him as he tries to decipher what he’s feeling. When his fly is undone he pulls his socks off and shucks his trousers and underwear down in one, wincing as the material brushes past his cock. It slaps up against his stomach, obscenely red and sensitive as the tip brushes his abdomen-Leon sucks in a sharp breath and scrapes his hand through his hair at the feeling. 

Breathing out slowly, he steps into his shower and winces again when the water hits him and makes his cock twitch. He ignores it though, just picks up his shampoo and tips his head into the stream of water to rinse his hair thoroughly. 

Unsurprisingly, his mind drifts again. 

He absentmindedly spreads body wash over his torso and under his arms as he thinks about your smile. How you’d appeared as though you were trying to hide it while Chris talked, like you were trying not to let on how amusing he was being. It was a sweet sight, he remembers. Knuckles resting against your jaw as you pressed your lips together and spun a little to each side in your chair. 

Consumed by his memories, Leon doesn’t notice he’s been washing his bicep for a full minute. He just stares at the tiles opposite as his hand scrubs back and forth methodically, yet in his mind his eyes are drifting over your hidden smile and down to your crossed legs. 

The image of your supple skin below the hem of your skirt is crystal clear in his mind, and his cock jumps again as he relives the moment the material rode up when you moved. 

He sucks in another breath at the sensation and his hands drift down his stomach to his lower belly, scratching gently along his happy trail. Leon thinks back to the one and only time he was ever remotely educated about…relations, and turns in the shower to rinse away the suds from his body. 

It was a short affair, an encounter which pretty much consisted of being told that he’d meet a nice young woman, marry, and conceive beautiful babies. He was told that he and his wife would have sex the night they married, that that would be his first time unless he wished to commit a great sin. There was a brief comment-more an allusion than anything-about using his…privates, before they laughed and said “Well, you’ll know what to do when it happens!” 

The sentiment hasn’t been particularly helpful, Leon thinks as he remembers the countless comments he’s just had to smile and laugh at, nod and brush off because he doesn’t know what people are talking about. All the times he’s opted out from drinking games, trivial ‘never have I ever’ rounds because he’s done nothing. He’d chosen to stay away from encounters like that after he’d sat through a game where he’d just looked confusedly around at people putting fingers down for things like ‘choking’ and ‘bareback’. 

What the hell either of those things had to do with sex, he’d never found out. 

Leon had only survived that evening by bowing out early, excusing himself with the lie of too much alcohol and the pretence of ‘don’t kiss and tell’. Which is how he survived most of his academy years, actually-sadly. 

Leon blinks and pulls out of his memories. Tipping his head down, he tries to focus on the rivulets of water streaming over his cheeks and running off his jaw, rather than the pulse he feels in his member. His hands lift momentarily and pause a few inches away from his stomach, trembling ever so slightly as he debates what to do. 

The urge to put his hands on himself has never been very strong with him, his body has never ached this much before-it’s always been slightly bothersome when this happens but relatively easy to ignore. Besides, he didn’t even know what to do; much simpler to just wait out whatever the feeling was in his gut. 

Tonight though, he can just feel so much. It feels as though he’s on fire, like his heart is beating in every part of his body and like something is going to happen. 

After what feels like a painfully prolonged amount of time-though is only a few seconds-his hands fall to his hips, rubbing nervously over bone and still shaking as he thinks of your fingers sliding under the strap of your bra. 

When he’d seen it you’d been pulling it back up your shoulder, but before Leon knows it his mind conjures up the image of you pulling it down, down over your arm and slipping your hand from it. 

With a gasp he jerks his hands away and grabs the temperature dial, wrenching it to the coldest it can manage. He immediately flinches at the freezing water before closing his eyes and letting it wash over him, knowing this always helps him feel normal again. Gets rid of the strange throbbing that pulses through his body when he wakes up like this sometimes. 

When he steps out of the shower and towels himself off, there’s an oddly bereft feeling in him as though his body is craving something. Leon swallows down the uncomfortable feeling and tugs some briefs on before going about his nightly routine and sliding under his covers. 

He doesn’t sleep for hours, tossing and turning under the covers while his skin feels sensitive and uncomfortable, like he’s not wearing it right, like his body can’t sort itself out. He slips into unconsciousness in the early hours of the morning, mind exhausted and body strung out-you still manage to throw a wrench into his mind yet again, making him think of your hidden smile right before he falls under the blanket of sleep. 

-

stage 2

Leon wakes up with a moan on his lips, spilling out as his thighs flex and his hands fist in his sheets. 

His eyes shoot open immediately and he gasps at the onslaught of sensations he can feel. Abdomen tight, gut twisting, hips jerking and toes curling. The most prominent thing he feels, however, is the tip of his cock caught between his stomach and the waistband of his briefs. It’s red and angry, swollen with need and almost weeping onto his abdomen. 

Leon plunges a hand into his hair and uses the other to rip the covers off of his body-they’re soaked in sweat anyway. His briefs are grey and he suddenly wishes he’d put on black ones so he couldn’t see the small wet patch of something growing by the top. His hands tremble like they did in the shower the night before, and as he goes to move his leg he whimpers, feeling the material chafe along his sensitive shaft. 

It hits him a little just then, makes his eyes well up as he tries to reconcile with the fact that he doesn’t even know what’s happening to his own body, the fact that he’s never felt so much, how it’s too much and not enough and his body craves more but he’s so scared of what will happen if he moves again. The sensation borders on painful, body so strung out every movement feels a thousand times more. 

With a muffled sob he pushes his head back into his pillow and squeezes his eyes shut, trying to stay as still as he can until it all just goes away-until his body stops throbbing. 

It’s a painful few minutes, hiccups escaping every so often as his hips reflexively move and he has to bite his lip to stop more sobs spilling out, but eventually his body calms somewhat, he softens a little and can manage to slide off his bed and stumble to his bathroom. He turns on his shower and sets it to freezing immediately before leaning on the counter and braving a look at himself in the mirror above his sink. 

The reflection makes him flinch a little. There’s a splotchy red flush spreading across his chest and up his neck, painting his cheeks alarmingly. Eyes red as well, pink rimmed and slightly bloodshot with heavy waterlines still-some of his hair sticks up in odd directions but Leon’s gaze is stuck to his abdomen. 

It floors him for a minute as he stares at himself, lips parted in surprise at his own appearance. 

There’s a dark splotch on the waistband of his grey briefs, uncomfortably wet against the tip of his cock. His eyes are glued to the space just above though. A dribble of something decorates his skin, pearly white and slipping slowly down to seep into his briefs. 

He swallows uncomfortably as he thinks back to his teenage years, back to the few rare mornings where he woke up almost like this-skin painted with something he doesn’t know and mind hazy with some sort of endorphin rush. 

He’d never asked anyone about what it was, never googled and tried never to think about it again. 

Was it meant to happen? Was it normal? Should it happen more often? Never? Did all guys do it? Was it needed? Did it happen during sex? 

Questions he figured he’d never get the answer to. 

His cock is still half hard and pressing weightily against the fabric of his underwear, but he ignores it in favour of slowly lifting his hand toward his stomach. Involuntarily his eyes narrow a little, squinting so he doesn’t have to watch clearly what he’s doing. Tentatively, he presses one fingertip into the puddle on his skin and instantly retracts it. 

His gaze hesitantly drops down, as though he thinks his reflection is lying to him somehow. Vaguely, his mind registers that his hand is trembling yet again, but he can’t see anything apart from the liquid collected on his index finger. 

Pressing his lips together, he turns the tap on and runs the water over his finger, washing away the evidence of his morning. 

He peels his briefs off delicately, wincing all the while at his sensitivity and throwing them in his hamper before stepping into his cold shower. He starts shivering as soon as the water hits him, and briefly wonders if this is how it’ll be from now on. If something happened when he met you and now he won’t be able to control his body. It seems as though that’s the way it’s going. 

It’s a somewhat pitiful couple of minutes, just standing there in the freezing water as he waits for his body to relax fully. After a short while he turns the temperature up-but still just stands there. Eyes closed, head hanging down and hands resting on the tiles in front of him. 

-

He doesn’t see you today.

A wave of relief washes over him when you’re not on the front desk as he walks in, followed immediately by a wave of curiosity and anxiousness. 

Are you just not at your desk? Are you not in the building at all? Are you sick? Weirded out by Leon staring at you yesterday?? Oh god what if it was him-

He does his best to banish all thoughts about you as he sits down at his desk and grins at Chris-who’s slumped back in his chair, sunglasses propped crookedly onto his face and snoring lightly. Hiding his smile, Leon opens and slams a desk drawer shut, watching Chris bolt upright and wince as his glasses topple off his nose and clatter to the floor. 

“Rough night?”

For a second all he receives is a groan in response before Chris looks his way, frowning and squinting at him. 

“How-you’re not dead. Why aren’t you dead like the rest of us rookie? Traitor-” 

His smile falters for a split second as he remembers last night and this morning's showers, before shrugging at him and grinning again. 

“First day on the job? Thought it might be best not to kill myself with alcohol poisoning. You do you though, it was pretty impressive to be fair Redfield-”

Chris just groans again, takes a full minute to reach down and pick up his sunglasses before sighing and slipping them back on-upside down. 

“Yeah yeah, whatever rookie-might have liver failure but I got a girls number so ain’t it worth it-”

He falls back asleep in his chair almost immediately after he finished speaking and Leon finds himself glad, relieved that he doesn’t get asked about any women or numbers or getting laid or more things he doesn’t have the first clue about. 

An uneventful few hours go by, but he meets Jill and gets given a shit ton of paperwork so he can ‘get used to the computers’. The man who gives him the stacks of files looks disappointedly at the evidently hungover officers dotted around the room before he tells Leon this, who he takes one more look at Chris (who’s elbow slips off the arm of his chair and makes his head thwack down onto the wood, before he gives up and falls asleep there instead) and chooses to just take the papers. 

About an hour later he’s made some decent progress, but gets jerked out of his focused trance when he hears a yelled ‘MORNING CHRIS!’ come from the opposite end of the room. 

The pen he’s using jerks up out of his hand onto the floor and his face takes less than two seconds to flush bright red again. 

You. 

You again. 

You making his cheeks flare with heat, heart stutter and gut tighten. What have you done to me?

He can’t help staring as you stroll into the room, evidently stifling a laugh at Chris’ dishevelled state and holding a stack of files in your arms. You’re wearing the skirt and the blouse again, but the bra Leon can ever so slightly see behind the white fabric is a different colour to yesterday. 

He wishes he hadn’t seen that because his pulse picks up the instant that registers in his mind. It gets worse still when you stop to talk to Chris and rest the files on your hip gently, leaning to one side slightly and accentuating your figure. 

Leon swallows before looking back down at his papers. But the outline of your body is printed on his eyes like he’s looked at a light bulb for too long and he can’t resist looking back up at you. 

His heartbeat quickens dangerously and his uniform feels hot all of a sudden when you look up, catching his eye and smiling as you make your way to his desk. With a thump, you drop your files onto the stack next to him. 

Leon hesitates when lifting his face to yours because he just knows how bright his cheeks are, he can feel the heat and is sure you’re about to be set alight from it. After a few seconds he does so-and finds himself struck dumb yet again by the sight of you smiling. Except this time his jaw goes a little slack because you’re smiling at him. Not at Chris, not at Jill, not anyone else. You’re smiling directly at him, just for him. Not a polite society smile either-a genuine warm expression that makes him realise how dry his lips are. His tongue darts out to wet them as he tries to think of what to say to you, but then you’re bending and picking up the pen he’d accidentally thrown into the air when you walked in. 

Still silent, he reaches to take it when you hold it out to him-smiling all the while god help him-and his fingers brush yours. Unexpectedly, his cock twitches behind his zipper and he has to work quickly to school his features. 

And then you offer him a soft ‘nice to meet you, Leon, let me know if you need anything-’ before walking back the way you came and leaving him sweating with a dry throat, red cheeks and uncomfortable tightness in his uniform trousers. 

“Pretty ain’t she?”

Chris’ words shock him out of his trance and make him splutter a little as he tries to think of an answer. 

He struggles somewhat, because his mind is distracted by the fact that yes, that’s what it is-he thinks you’re pretty. Really pretty, some kind of pretty he hasn’t seen before. 

With the other cadets and students he’d spent the last few years with, he appreciated their looks sometimes, could recognise their beauty but was never exactly attracted to them per se. Never really had a desire to act on anything or try something new-and now, for what he thinks is the first time in memory, he finds you really pretty and wants to do something about it. What that something is, he’s unsure. Unfortunate, yet not surprising. Sadly. 

He gives Chris a vague ‘mhm’ in response as he looks back down at his desk, attempting to focus back on his paperwork but failing.

“Don’t give me that rookie, know you were thinking it. We’ve all tried-”

That makes his head shoot up again, eyes widening as he looks at Chris (unsuccessfully) holding back a smirk. His heart speeds up slightly and he thinks quickly-does that mean you’re with someone? Is another officer appreciating your pretty smiles and seeing them more than Leon ever will?

“Everyone’s-what? You’ve all what?”

Chris laughs at that, bold and loud as he slips his sunglasses up onto the top of his head.

“Oh don’t look all innocent and wide eyed like you weren’t thinking of it mate-but yeah everyone has-”

He sighs as he finishes speaking before turning his head and muttering a little, “Everyone says that dude on the desk over there got closest but it was me I’m tellin ya-”

It makes Leon’s stomach flip uncomfortably, the thought of you and Chris together. He suddenly feels a little sick, when he imagines you sending sweet smiles to him, perching on Chris’ desk and letting him see more than just ghost of your bra through your shirt-

Leon blinks himself out of his spiral, gasping quietly with his second unsettling realisation of the morning. That he wants to see more of you, see what others haven’t. 

He curses himself when he sees that his hands are trembling again, overwhelmed by the connections his mind makes-that he knows you need to be attracted to someone to have sex with them, and you need to be somewhat nude. That he is attracted to you and wants to see more of your body. His leg jogs under his desk a little, bumping against the wood every so often.

He’s felt pent up before, felt like he was about to burst with energy and like he just had to do something-but he’s never felt like this before. It confuses him somewhat, the heady mix between that and of the overwhelming need he felt this morning. Shakily, he picks up his pen again and prays he won’t see you for the rest of the day, in case he loses the rest of his sanity at one glimpse of your smile.

-

Days pass almost the same way.

He wakes up sweating and gasping, unable to move because he doesn’t know what will happen. He takes a cold shower, finds himself unable to look at his own reflection. He goes to work and can’t decide whether he wants to watch you work all day or if he hopes he won’t see you at all. 

And each day ends with him going back to his apartment and wishing he spent more time with you, that he talked to you and saw your smile and the blouse you wear and the face you make when Chris tells a bad joke. You’ve consumed so much of him, make him think of you when he sees certain characters on TV, make him picture the way you frown at your computer when he picks up his laptop.

After a couple of weeks of this, of feeling his entire body pulse and heat with the smallest comment from you, he wakes in the middle of the night.

A quick look to his left tells him it’s just gone three in the morning and he wonders why he even woke at all. His neighbours aren’t playing loud music as they have an annoying habit of doing, there’s no motorbikes outside, not an intruder or even something falling over in his flat. He furrows his brow and moves to slide out from under his covers.

He barely makes it a centimetre before a whimper is forced out of him though, suddenly all too aware of the sticky mess saturating his briefs. His head is thrown back against his pillows as he gasps, letting his hips jerk up instinctively before forcing them back down to the bed.

Leon snakes a hand under the covers and over his stomach, but he hesitates when he reaches his abdomen. His skin is wet and coated in something, much like the morning after he met you-but it’s everywhere, covering his toned muscle and soaking his underwear. He pulls the sheets back and winces at the sight, wet patch covering the front of his briefs and stomach painted with a glistening sheen of something, smeared ropes all over his skin.

Absentmindedly, he registers the cloud of pleasure that hangs over his thoughts, the immense satisfaction flowing through his body. The fabric of his underwear is plastered wetly to the outline of his shaft and he reaches down again to brush his fingers over it. He accidentally traces the thick vein on the underside of his member and whimpers again, thighs trembling at the slightest bit of stimulation. 

He remembers his teen years and the few times this happened to him. He’d just brushed it off back then, taken a shower and forgotten all about it. But now he can’t. 

He can’t because all he can think of is that he’s pretty sure he was dreaming of you just before he woke up.

In his mind is the vague image of you without your blouse, lying back on his bed and teasing the cups of your bra with your fingertips. The thought makes his cock twitch and his breath hitches as the tip brushes the sodden material. His mouth drops open as he gently pulls the material away and tugs it down to his thighs, and he thinks of the pleasure he felt when he woke, unable to stop lowering his hand and rubbing his thumb over the sensitive head of his dick.

Something in his gut tightens and he lets out a broken moan when his member twitches at his touch, the tip leaking onto his skin again and adding to the mess he’s already made. 

He stumbles into his bathroom and almost falls into a cold shower, not knowing what to do apart from this. 

It feels a little like the only respite he has these days, the only thing that has managed to return his body to normal over the past couple of weeks. 

He doesn’t sleep very well for the next few hours, wondering what the next day will bring when he sees you.

-

stage 3

Leon feels his heart beat faster the moment he steps inside the station, but you’re not behind your desk. 

He reluctantly acknowledges the pang of disappointment he feels and shakes his head lightly as he walks to his desk, trying to rid himself of the distraction you inevitably cause. When he sits down he must have a frown on his face because Chris takes one look at him and tells him you had to accompany the captain somewhere-Leon feigns disinterest as he clears his throat and logs into his computer for the morning, but his fellow officer just raises his eyebrows and turns back to his own files. 

Given that you’re not there, Leon makes it through the rest of the work day without any trouble. Except for one incident. 

Unsurprisingly, it involves sex. 

It happens when he’s in the break room, using the battered coffee machine and soon wishing it worked a whole lot quicker. But it refuses to listen to his silent pleas and churns slowly, makes Leon wait for his drink while he listens to an officer-he might have been called Dave?-talk about what he did on his weekend. 

Well, more like who he did. 

Leon opens the cupboard above him, hiding his head from the officers, but his hand hesitates when he goes to grab a coffee cup. 

“Man you should’ve seen this girl-pornstar tits I’m tellin’ you-”

His eyes widen as he slowly grabs a mug. 

“No fuckin way don’t believe you-you’re always makin shit up like this-”

“I’m serious this time, god it was insane-coulda stared at those tits all day and I’d die a happy man-”

“You just stared at her? Little guy fall short did he?”

Leon closes the cupboard and sees the first guy whacking his friend on the bicep, and turns the words over in his mind, trying to figure out what they mean. 

“Course I fucked her, man-can’t see a mouth and an ass like that and be expected to not stick my dick in one of ‘em-”

Her mouth?!? Why would that happen what does her mouth have to do with it?

The other officer throws his head back, laughing loudly. 

“Aight aight, she fuck like a pornstar too then?”

Maybe this would be easier to follow if I’d seen porn. Should I? Oh god am I going to watch porn?!?

“Fuck man you bet your ass she did-you ever back shot a girl? When I pul-” 

“Oh gross man I don’t need to know about your jizz get the fuck outta here-”

They both walk out of the break room laughing and muttering to each other while Leon stands at the counter, slowly stirring his coffee. 

As he walks back to his desk, he feels a little as though he’s in some sort of daze. His mind keeps overturning what he heard, just confusedly cycling through ‘backshot’ ‘pornstar tits’ ‘little guy fall short’ and ‘jizz’. He didn’t think he’d heard so many things he was unaware the meaning of since he’d been in school. 

And it’s not like he has a teacher to ask about why he’d put his dick in someone’s mouth.

But. 

There is porn. 

His cheeks heat a little as thinks about it, and he realises he’s been staring at the wall for a few minutes. Blinking, he comes back to himself and tries to carry on with his paperwork. 

The rest of the day isn’t very productive though, as he spends it all distracted by the thought that he’s made up his mind. He’s going to watch porn, for the first time ever, tonight. 

-

When he gets home he’s jittery, like he drank too much coffee-even though he only made the one cup and then was so distracted he forgot to drink it. 

He’s torn by the urge to grab his laptop and finally learn what he should have years ago, or to try and relax first. Make dinner, have a shower, watch some tv and then…experiment. 

Leon makes dinner first and settles onto his couch to watch some tv, but unsurprisingly finds himself unable to focus for very long. His eyes keep darting to the side, flicking to where his laptop lays on the sofa beside him. A few minutes after he finishes eating, he swears quietly and gives in, grabs his laptop and tugs it onto his lap. 

He watches the tv for a few seconds before steeling himself and opening up the browser. 

Slowly, he types,

porn

And presses enter. 

He squints at his screen slightly to dampen whatever he’s about to see, and hesitantly scrolls through the page of search results. Sighing and going back to the top, he settles further into his sofa as he reads. 

pornhub

The mouse hovers over the first result. 

That’s what guys use, right?? I swear I’ve heard people mention pornhub?

With a click, he’s suddenly taken to a black background and dozens of thumbnails for various videos. 

As soon as he looks at the first one, he jerks his hands away from the keyboard and feels his eyes widen, cheeks flushing once again as he takes in the image of a woman with her mouth wide open, tongue hanging out and just the tip of a man’s cock in view, laying on the flat of it. Leon’s cock throbs painfully in his sweats, aching and pulsing as he stares at his screen. 

Clearing his throat, he tentatively looks along to the next thumbnail-an image of a woman lying back on a bed, legs spread open and exposing herself. His cock twitches as he looks at the space between her thighs, hardening rapidly as he realises that whatever coated his stomach that morning is…leaking out of her. 

A pop up flashes up on the screen, asking if he wants like minded singles in his area (anna is only 3 miles away and wants to do sex with you!) and it jerks Leon out of his trance. With a start, he shuts his laptop and shoves it onto the coffee table in front of him, leaning back and breathing heavily. His sweatpants are tented, bulge showing prominently and a small patch is dark grey, as though a droplet of something has landed on it-or soaked into it. 

He reaches a hand down, knowing exactly what’s going to happen. As expected, the moment his fingers brush over his bulge, his hips buck up and he tries to stifle the whimper that crawls up his throat. 

Dropping his hand back to the couch, he grabs his laptop again and opens it, keeping his gaze squarely focused on the top of the screen where he presses the back arrow to return to the search bar-and away from the images that make him tremble and throb. 

He decides it might be easier to take it a little slower, to actually learn some things before plunging into the deep end. Which is why he finds himself typing ‘how to touch-’. He quickly backspaces and deletes it though, scoffing at the idea that he’d have to look at some sort of sex-ed for kids/teenagers. 

Then he frowns, and realises he probably actually knows less than the average teenager. Sighing again, he types. 

how to touch myself

Wincing at his ignorance and the phrasing of his search, he presses enter and tucks a leg under himself to scroll comfortably. 

Most articles he finds are for people with vaginas and he attempts to ignore the constant ache in his member every time he reads something about a woman pleasuring herself. After a few minutes of browsing, he finds an article that seems to have what he needs. 

It’s rather clinical to begin with, but he supposes it’s what he needs, given that he barely even knows what happened this morning let alone how to touch himself when he’s conscious. 

From the first few paragraphs, he learns about orgasms and that he ‘came’ while he was asleep-also called a wet dream! He learns that it happens to teenagers a decent amount and ‘is nothing to be ashamed of!’ which immediately tells him that most people are embarrassed, and therefore makes him feel ashamed anyway. 

He learns all the clinical technical words for things, feeling slightly overwhelmed by all of it-and he also finds out about some slang and more casual words for things. He finally reads what the word ‘jizz’ means, and thinks back to earlier in the day, trying to figure out what the men were talking about. 

Clearing his mind once more, he looks back to his screen and keeps reading-next the article details how different people find different things erotic, how he might like to be touched in different places, he might not like to be touched at all, he might like someone else to touch him. It’s rather impressive, the way his mind only takes a split second to picture you. He thinks of when you handed him his pen and your fingers brushed his, the brief sensation of your skin against his and he decides just then, thinks firmly that yes, yes he does want to be touched by someone else. He really wants to be touched by someone, and he really wants it to be you. 

His mind drifts for a minute, eyes almost glazed over as he wonders what it would be like. It’s so fucking intense already when he wakes up already hard, or when he trails his fingers over himself, and he can barely even imagine what it might be like with your hands instead of his. Your smile directed at him as your fingers trace over the sensitive veins on his cock. With a quick glance down, he sees the wet patch on his sweatpants has grown slightly bigger, and he turns back to his laptop. 

After a few more minutes reading, he also learns that it will likely feel better lubricated with…something. The article suggests lube, spit, lotion-or, if he’s with a partner, their bodily fluids. Leon grimaces at that, before thinking back to the first articles he flicked through and remembering what will happen if he’s with a woman and, somehow, manages to arouse them. Even though he’s alone, he lets out a small ‘oh’ and hunches further over his laptop, still attempting to ignore how hard he is. 

Reading on, he learns a little about how to use his hands on himself, how sensitive his balls can be, that he can play with his nipples if he likes-by the time he reaches the part about trying anal his head is swimming from the overload of knowledge and he closes the tab, leaning back into the cushions and staring across at the tv. It’s playing some cooking show, but he wouldn’t be able to focus on the chef chopping spring onions if he had a gun to his head. 

By now, the way his cock is throbbing is almost unbearable, constantly jumping behind the material of his sweats and leaking obscenely from the tip-something he now knows is called precum, as a matter of fact. 

Slowly, but with a racing heart, he places his laptop on the table and leans back once more, fisting one hand in a cushion next to him. His left hand tugs at the strings on his sweats and he undoes the bow, slipping his fingertips into the waistband before pausing and thinking it’ll feel better with his right hand. 

He swaps the cushion over to have something to grip, and pushes his right hand into his trousers. 

The second he touches his member he lets out a moan, long and loud and he trails off into a gasp. Slightly clumsily, he wraps his hand around his shaft and whimpers out a quiet ‘fuck’ at the intense feeling-hastily, his hips buck up to fuck himself into his grip. 

The wave of pleasure he felt this morning rushes up at him again and he pulls his hand from his sweatpants, panting and looking down to where the flushed head of his cock peeks out under the waistband. Precum beads at the tip and he watches intently as it drips onto his abdomen, gradually sliding into the v of his hips. He briefly thinks back to the article, to how it said it might feel better with something to help him along, and he raises his right hand a little, spits in his palm and pushes it back into his sweats. 

The feeling makes him whimper and jerk again, thighs trembling and eyes squeezing shut as he spreads his spit along his cock. He flattens his hand out and slides his palm along the underside of his shaft, feeling the veins against his skin and how the heel of his thumb brushes against his weeping tip every so often. 

It barely takes twenty seconds before he’s letting out a stream of moans, whiny ‘oh oh oh’s echoing around his apartment, accompanied by the lewd squelchy noise of his spit and precum mixing. 

It almost hurts, how much he feels right now, the onslaught of pleasure that’s suddenly hitting him after all this time-and the fact that he knows now, he knows what to do and what’s going to happen, he knows he’s trying to make himself come, that god willing one day someone will do this to him, that he might be able to come inside someone-

Fleetingly, his mind pictures the woman from the second thumbnail with her legs open and come dripping out of her-but it’s you suddenly. Your face contorted in pleasure and your legs he’s seen peeking out from under your skirt, and it’s his come, his warm seed spilling from you because he’s just fucked you, just had his cock inside you and it just happens, his eyes fly open and his lips part as he moans obscenely loud. It echoes off his walls, high pitched and whiny again as he feels his cock throb, ropes of come splattering across his stomach and over his fingers. 

Without thinking he moves his hand again, sliding his palm wetly over his length once more before gasping and pulling it away, unused to the stimulation. 

Leon lays there, panting, for a few long minutes before he can even bring himself to lift his head up. What he sees makes his eyes widen-his abdomen and his hand and the top of his sweats coated in his own come, just like this morning but he made it happen this time. He touched himself for the first time, touched his dick and and knew what he was doing and knew what he was making happen, and to the thought of you no less. 

A burst of shame fills him as he remembers how he thought of you, before he tries to banish it and take things one at a time. First-a shower is in order. 

He stumbles when he pushes himself off the sofa, stabilising himself on the arm of it as he winces at the material chafing his length. With slow steps he manages to get to his bathroom and into the shower, smiling a little when he realises he won’t have to have cold showers every morning and evening now-he can just…touch himself. He knows how to now, and, quite frankly, he already feels a little desperate for the rush of pleasure it gave him again. 

When he gets out and towels himself off a few minutes later he’s still smiling somewhat, until he remembers he’ll see you tomorrow. He’s going to have to work in the same space as you for hours and hours, all while knowing the pleasure he can so easily give himself to the thought of you. 

It’s gonna be a long day, that’s for sure.

part 2

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Finding loads of new oneshots of your fav is like buying a new bag of chips, you eat the chips till you ran out 💔

i want slow kisses and slow thrusting until it gets so wet and sticky and messy between us that he’s smiling between each kiss because he can hear it

Sasuke x fem! reader, where sasuke is pussy drunk, breeding kink involved.

sure! I hope this is good enough!

Sasuke Uchiha x reader

Rated: smut AF

Warning: smut, creampie, slight breeding kink, pussy drunk Sasuke, oral F reviving. no us of Y/N, pet names.

word count: 1907

smut below

Three months Sasuke was gone. He had a habit of disappearing then reappearing whenever he felt like it. Just long enough to keep you waiting up at night for him. But after a while you slowly start to become content without the man knocking on your door in the middle of the night.

Coming so content without him that tonight you didn't hear the soft knocking coming from the front door. Sound asleep in bed with your door shut you were blissfully ignorant to the man standing outside your home who was becoming impatient with waiting. Not pleased with being greeted he easily got the door opened and locked it behind himself as he entered your dark apartment.

The lights were out and there was no sound coming from the bedroom. Slowly he made his way to your room, throwing his shirt over his head he opened your bedroom door. Sasuke's shadowy form filled the doorway as he saw you lying peacefully in bed asleep. He let out a huff, how was it you were able to sleep so peaceful without him there? He walked to the end of the bed and slowly pulled the covers off of you, but you hardly even stirred in your sleep. He watched you for a moment, laying on your back and legs parted slightly. Your breasts popping out of your tight tank top and shorts that hugged your thighs just right.

Sasuke's cock twitched in his pants. You were beautiful to him and he wanted with every chance he could get to drown in your pussy.

He leaned down onto the bed and snaked his way up your body, First he needed you awake. He gently pushed his nose in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent he's missed for three months. He peppers the side of your neck with light kisses as one hand goes to rub small circles on your hip, the other holds himself above you. His kissing becomes sloppier and he begins to lightly nip at your soft flesh. He puts pressure on your core as he presses himself against you, his cock hardening at the minimal contact.

You shift under him, a soft huff leaving your barely parted lips and your eyes start to flutter open. You let out a gasp when his hips buck into your core. “Sasuke?” You croak out.

“Sorry did I wake you?” He says, continuing to kiss up your jaw tell his face was hovering above your own. Finally able to see fully, or as much as you could with the moonlight being the only source of light in the room. Sasuke’s eyes were dark as he looked over your body. The hand from your hip came up to cup your left breast. He let out a soft gasp as he pinched your nipple through the fabric. “I hope you’ve been well since I've been away?” He speaks nonchalantly as he continues to fondle your breasts and grind against your core.

“Fine, it's been a while this time.” You state, with a pout in your tone. Sasuke hums in acknowledgment, it had been awhile this time. “Now you come back and you're already between my legs?” You attempt to give him a pointed look, not even knowing how much of your face he could make out.

He got the jist of it at the very least, it didn't sway his mind in the slightest of having your body in his dick all night however. “I know baby, I'm really sorry.” He attempted sincerity. “But you know I need you, always you in every sense of the word.” he says in your ear, causing a shiver to run down your spine. Sasuke knew what to say to make you forget your worries about him at the moment. Forget so much you didn't even notice his hand slide down between your legs to tell his hand was resting outside of your shorts and he was gently rubbing your pussy with one finger. “C’mon be my sweet girl” His hot breath fans the side of your neck.

“Three weeks.” you blurted out, causing sasuke to stop and look back to you for an explanation. “Three weeks you have to stay this time. Since you were gone for three months.” You stated firmly. “And if you don't, then stay away for another three months.” you added.

A grin grew on Sasuke’s face. “Three weeks it is.” With that he was at your neck again, biting and sucking with desire now. His hand slipped into your shorts and the grin on his face grew wider when he felt how wet you already were. “Sure you weren’t waiting for me baby?” He teases.

He pulled his hand from your shorts and sat up between your legs. He looked you in the eyes as he pulled your shorts and panties off and through them to the darkened ground. With both hands he spread your legs and lowered his body so his head was right at your pussy. “Sasuke, what are you doing?” you asked surprised, normally he just wanted to fuck you the first night he got back then go to sleep, it was the morning that he began doting on your needs.

Ignoring your question with a flat lick through the core of your pussy Sasuke hummed in contentment as he tasted your sweet juices. His mind was blurring at the thought of devouring your cunt, He began to suck your clit and lick it softly. Your moans were like music to his ears, his sweet girls whimpering as he added a finger into your tight hole. You gasp and throw your head back against the pillows as he pumps it in and out.

“You taste so good, baby.” Sasuke spoke between long licks. “Dripping down my hand you're so wet.” He slid another finger into your hole and sucked your clit between his soft lips. One of your hands made its way to the top of his head where you gripped a fair amount of his hair and attempted at not pushing his head deeper into your cunt. His free arm wrapped around your leg to pull you closer.

His fingers fucked your pussy at just the right angle and his mouth sucked your clit just right enough to send you over the edge. “Sasuke! Im gunna! You're gonna make me cum!” you cried out, tugging on his hair.

Sasuke grunted and continued his pace to get you to your high. He felt your walls clench around his fingers and your sweet juices flow out of your dripping pussy. He grinded his hard cock into the bed. He could feel the mess of precum he's already made.

Once he felt you coming down and catching your breath he pulled his fingers slowly out of you, watching the trail of fluid connect his hand to your glistening pussy. He sunk his head back down and lapped at your pussy, tongue sliding into your hole to collect more juices. You tugged on his hair to get him to stop. “Too much Sasuke, sensitive.” You whimper out.

He pulled off of you and licked his lips and whipped the rest off with the back of his clean hand. “You taste so sweet baby, you make my dick so hard just tasting it.” He sits up and you can see his cock clearly struggling against his pants. He slid them down and the precum dripped from the swollen head of his cock. “Ready for my cock baby?” he says as he hovers over you, the tip of his cock running through your pussy folds.

You shake your head yes and spread your legs further apart. “Please Sasuke.” you begged.

Slowly he sank himself into you, he gave you time to adjust to his size but as soon as his gentle rocking had you moaning and relaxed he started a relentless pace, bottoming out in you with almost every thrust. Your arms came up to rest around his neck to keep yourself anchored with each pounding thrust.

“So fucking tight, pussy is sucking me in.” Sasuke spoke through gritted teeth.

Your eyes had a hard time staying open, with how deep he was fucking you and with his size you felt so full and hot. You could hear his cock slipping in and out and the sounds of your fluids mixing inside of you.

Sasuke reached under you and hooked both of your legs over his shoulders, pressing you down into the mattress so his dick could reach the deepest parts of you. “My pussy, my pretty baby.” he says into the crook of your neck as he pounds into you. You let out a strangled moan when sasuke brought a hand between your legs and rubbed fast circles on your with his thumb. “Tell me baby, this is my pussy, it belongs to be right?” He asks, eyes glossed over with need.

You could barely focus but you managed to mumble a few words. “All yours, all Sasukes.” Was all you could manage. Brain fogged over with how deep Sasuke was and how good he was making you feel.

Happy with your answer he kept his pace steady as he sucked and bit at the already abused skin on your neck. His hips snapped into your so fast and hard you were only catching gasps of breath with each thrust. Your body was starting to shake around him. “Gonna cum baby? If you do, I'll fill your pussy full with my warm cum, just take me cock and cum all over it sweet girl.” Sasuke encouraged you.

You gasped out as his thumb pushed firmer circles on your clit while Sasuke angled himself just right to hit your sweet spot that had your eyes screwing shut and your hold on him tightened. “Sasuke!” you cried out in warning.

“I know baby girl I know, cum for me please, u need to feel you.” He says before claiming your mouth with his own, instantly slipping his tongue into your mouth and explored as you came around his cock. Your whimpers drowned out as sasuke claimed your mouth, only to pull away a moment later when he felt himself about to explode, he dipped his head into the crook of your neck, his soft groans and grunts filled your ears. A few hard deep thrust and he was holding himself deep in you as his hot seed spilled into your womb and filling your whole pussy with how much cum he had. “Fuck, such a good girl while i empty myself in your pretty pussy.” He praised, pulling out and letting your legs fall to the sides.

You both took a moment to catch your breaths. The sun was coming up now and the sunlight was shining directly at your exposed body, legs open and pussy shining. “Sasuke, that was a lot more than most nights you come home.” He joked, finally catching your breath.

Sasuke smiled at you. “I just missed you, all of you.” He noticed his cum leaking out of your pussy, frowning he held his now soft cock and collected the dripping juiced and slid his cock back into you, you shuddered at the feeling. “Don't want to waste it.” He teased, pulling back out and admiring your fucked out form. “Sleep now, we will continue this in the morning.”

And you did, over and over.

kakashi hands.