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#get over yourself you're not above it
britneyshakespeare · 8 months
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me on a first date: so, do you think richard iii killed his nephews?
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powdermelonkeg · 5 months
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Important rules/tips I've learned as an adult that helped with anxiety
If people are mad at you, it's their responsibility to tell you, not your responsibility to guess
If they're mad at you in secret anyways, they're the ones in the wrong, not you
If people don't like what you're doing, it's their responsibility to tell you
If they say it's fine when it's really not, they're the ones in the wrong, not you
People are allowed to be wrong about you
If they are wrong about you, wait for them to bring it up, because if you try to, you will inevitably overcorrect
Some people are committed to misunderstanding you. You will not win arguments against them. Yes, even if you explain your point of view. They do not care. Drop it
The worst thing that will happen from a first-time offense is being told not to do it again. Maybe with a replacement if you broke something
You can improve relationships and gauge willingness to talk to you by giving compliments. It's like a daily log-in bonus and nobody thinks twice about it
Most things are better after you sleep on them
Most things are better after you have a meal
Most things are better after you shower
Your brain makes up consequences that are irrational. If the worst DOES come to pass and someone acts like they do in your head, they are overreacting, and you are entitled to say "what the fuck"
If your chest hurts after you feel like you've made a social error, that's called rejection-sensitive dysphoria. It means your anxiety is so bad that it's causing you physical pain, which is a good indicator that you're overreacting. Tense yourself, hold it for 20 seconds, let it go, then find a distraction
If you're suddenly angry at someone after you feel like you made a social error, that's also rejection-sensitive dysphoria. You are going to feel annoyed about it for awhile, but being genuinely pissed off is your anxiety trying to find something to blame to take the responsibility off your shoulders, and getting scared because it can't justify itself. Deep breaths, ask yourself how much you ACTUALLY want to be angry at that person, then find a distraction
"Sour grapes" is more healthy for you than stewing. Deciding you don't like someone who's perpetually annoyed with you, won't talk to you, etc. makes letting go of anxiety over them easier
If people don't like you, they will find reasons to be annoyed with you when they otherwise wouldn't. If people do like you, they will find reasons NOT to be annoyed with you when they otherwise would. People do not ping-pong between the two
You DO have to make a conscious choice not to think about something. If you're having trouble circling back to it, say out loud that you're done thinking about it and why. Then find a distraction
When you're upset, part of you is going to want to make false bids for attention (suddenly texting differently, heavy sighs, etc. but when someone asks you about it, you tell them it's nothing). Do not listen to it. You gain nothing from it except more misery
People like to help people they care about. It makes them feel good about themselves
If you think you're insufferable for needing help, see above. Yes, really. They get a serotonin kick from it
If you think you're insufferable for mannerisms you have, you either have to consciously choose not to do them, or accept that they're part of the package that comes with you. Being apologetic about existing does nothing except make you more miserable
If you do things you don't like when you feel meh about it, it makes it easier to do them when you hate it
If you avoid things you don't like when you feel meh about it, it reinforces and magnifies how bad it feels when you hate it
Seriously. Read those last two points again. If you can make yourself make a phone call when you've got nothing to lose, you will slowly lose that panic you get when you have to make a phone call you haven't prepared for. You do have to CONSCIOUSLY take that step
Hobbies that make you care for something get rid of that nagging feeling that you're not doing enough. Go grow some rosemary
If you don't engage with your hobbies regularly, you will feel miserable, and anxiety will spike
Hobbies are things that give you a bit of happiness. They do not have to be organized or named to do that. Go be creative in something. Play with coins. Make up lists. Start a new WIP
No one cares what you look like
If people point out things they don't like about how you look unprompted, they are being rude. You are entitled to say "what the fuck"
People who like you will find you pretty to some degree. Minor things about your appearance go completely unnoticed. Literally, scars and dots and blemishes do not register to someone who likes your company
You looking at yourself in the mirror is 10x more closely than anyone is going to look at you
If you're anxious about your body type, and you're creatively inclined, make/write an oc with that same shape. Give them nice things and make other characters love them. Put them on adventures. You'll start to see yourself in the mirror more kindly
You care about wording and perfect lines/colors way more than anyone who views your work ever will
Sometimes when you're upset, you're going to feel like not eating. Do not do that. Not eating makes you more miserable
Same with things you normally enjoy. Denying yourself helps no one. You are punishing yourself for being sad. Stop it
Both of these will take conscious decision to break the habit of. Make yourself do it anyways, and it will slowly get easier
And again, to reiterate: If someone is mad at you, it is THEIR responsibility to tell you, not your responsibility to guess
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sideeve · 5 months
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⠀⠀⠀“WHAT?! SEX BAN?!”
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﹅ contains ;; gojo satoru , kento nanami , choso kamo , toji fushiguro , ryomen sukuna , geto suguru
﹅ alt title ;; how long the jjk men can withstand the sex ban
﹅ warnings ;; sorta sub!choso , whiny!choso , toji's part is more explicit than the others , this is my first time writing for some of the character so i'm sorry if i didn't describe them well
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GOJO SATORU (3 days)
“are you serious?” gojo groans, slumping forwards. gojo watched in disappointment as you crossed your arms, looking away from him. "you did it so you have to pay." for weeks, you've been trying to tell gojo to separate the colors from the whites while doing laundry. him just wanting to get it over with, he dumped them all in the same load, ruining some of your favorite pieces of clothing.
"baby, please. i won't do it again," he begs, kneeling in front of you. but to no avail, you stood your ground.
it only took him 3 days to convince you to wave your white flag, surrendering to his seduction. "you look good in my shirts." gojo's hands caress your hips as he presses his chest to your back. "i would be in my clothes if you would just listen to me." you huff, "i never said i was disappointed." gojo whispered, his hard-on pressing on your ass.
“please. just drop the ‘sex ban’. i said i was sorry.” his lips make a trail of kisses on your neck. you needed him too. whenever he wasn’t around, you would use your toys, trying to not let gojo know you were sexually needy. but they didn’t work.
RYOMEN SUKUNA (not happening!)
no. just no. it’s funny that you even thought about putting that in motion. sukuna was too desperate for sex but never wanted to admit it.
“no,” he stood above, crossing his arms, making himself seem bigger than you (as if he even needed to do that). “you can’t deprive me of sex, woman.” he grunts. “but i can, kuna. that’s what you fail to realize.” you tut, standing up to walk away.
one of his four arms wraps around your waist, throwing you back on the soft surface. "you're not going through with this." he growls in your ear, crawling go top of you.
how dare you even think such a thing? you were his woman, his twin flame. you were the only person he showed the littlest respect to and you decide to do some foolery like this.
he tugs your shirt over your head, your bra coming next. his rough hands slide over your chest. "such beauty..." he whispers. "i'll make sure you never think of this again.
KENTO NANAMI (it was on accident)
his job was taking him away from you. between being a jujutsu sorcerer and a businessman, he couldn't find time to be a partner for you.
due to the lack of attention you were receiving, you became sexually pent up, having the urge to pleasure yourself at the worst times. the feeling of neglect was creeping up on you. some days, you forgot nanami even lived with you.
"love, i'm home." nanami tugs off his tie, tossing it to the side. "i don't know how long i can take of this." he rubs his temples, deeply sighing as he led himself to your shared bedroom. before his hand touched the cold metal knob, he heard your muffled moans and the squelching of your cunt.
he slowly opens the door, peeking in the room before fully entering. "it seems i've neglected you." he watches as you quickly cover yourself as if he hasn't seen you naked many times. he unbuttons the top of his shirt as he saunters to the edge of the bed, removing the covers off you.
"seems like i have some things to make up for."
CHOSO KAMO (not even a day)
"please." he whines, his head resting on your lap as he looks up at you. ever since you shared your first time with choso, he's been going at it with you like rabid dogs. if he wasn't inside you, his head was squished in between his thighs.
"choso, i need a break." you sigh, trying to remove him from off you. his grip on your legs was tight as he put his face in between your thighs, shaking his head. he was acting like he couldn't survive without your cunt somehow being involved.
"i swear, i'll leave you alone after. just please," he whined. you couldn't resist him for much longer. you hated when he got all whiny like a baby. he was spoiled because of you.
"fine." you undo the tie of your sweatpants before his hands swatted yours away, tugging your pants and panties off. "i promised you." he kisses your inner thigh before his tongue began flicking away.
TOJI FUSHIGURO (mans was balls deep in you the second you said it)
"you really think so?" he darkly chuckles, rubbing himself on you. "toji, i'm sorry. please." you whine, wiggling your ass on his cock. "i don't think you are." he teases, stepping away from you.
you whine, following him. "it was a joke." you press your hand on his chest. "did i laugh?" he tilts his head, smirking at you. you sigh, "toji, i'm sorry." you press yourself against him, your chest touching his.
"fuck." you knew he couldn't resist the feeling of your chest on him. it was like heaven to him. "turn around." he grunts, gripping your hips to turn you around, bending you over.
he easily slid inside of you due to how wet you got over time. "don't say stuff you don't mean, baby." he laughs, thrusting into your backside. it was worth it.
GETO SUGURU (you gave in after implementing it)
you wanted to test geto's limits, giving him an extra nnn moment which made you realize something. it was always you initiating sex. "geto, please. i give up." you whine, following him around the house.
he chuckles, "everyone must deal with their consequences, my love." he turns to you. he plastered a sinister smile, taunting you. he saw how much you needed him but he wasn't caving in until he heard you say it.
"i'll do anything. my hand isn't even working anymore." you simper. it was starting to become frustrating seeing how calm he was about all of this as you were suffering.
"i need you! is that what you wanted to hear?" you shout, earning a grin from him. he walks closer to you, his finger tracing your jawline, "why didn't you say that sooner, love?" he chuckles.
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osaemu · 9 months
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GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ CAN I PUT YOU ON HOLD? ❜❜
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.ೃ࿐ he picks up the phone in the middle of fucking you. NSFW
contents: fem!reader. cunniligus, lil' bit of dirty talk and more... i'm too tired to type it all out </3
author's note: idk personally i wouldn't take that.. but i guess i would if it was satoru. anywaysss enjoy
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satoru's a busy man — balancing his responsibilities as a teacher and as a sorcerer is no easy task, but he finds a way to make it work.
anyone who's known him for longer than a minute can easily tell that satoru's committed to his line of work. as much as he complains about it, the truth is that it's one of his top priorities. maybe even the first one.
and you get a taste of just how devoted satoru is when he picks up the phone in the middle of fucking you. 
"hello?" satoru cooes, eyes focused on your indignant expression as he holds a finger to his lips. "yeah, i'm free to talk. what is it?"
"free to talk?" you mouth at him incredulously. satoru replies with a wink and grins, enjoying the show. you're still pinned underneath him, bedsheets haphazardly strewn across your body, and satoru savors the sight of you all needy and pouty.
"yeah, take your time," satoru says amusedly to whoever's on the other side of the phone after a moment. when you reach up and swat satoru's chest indignantly, he uses his free hand to pin your wrists above your head, a clear warning in his eyes.
after a couple of mhm's and of course's, the conversation still isn't over. your patience is waning — who is satoru to just stop in the middle of fucking you to pick up a phone call and say that he's free to talk?
you try to distract yourself by thinking about the mindblowing sex you were having just minutes ago. the longing, glassy stares; the red scratch marks down satoru's back; and of course you couldn't leave out the words.
"fuck, you're taking me so well, sweetheart." "atta girl, you're a natural slut, aren't ya?" "your pussy was made to be fucked by me, wasn't it?"
how did that turn into "yeah, make sure the higher-ups know about this, otherwise they'll give me hell for it. mhm"?
after another bland minute, satoru rolls off of you and sits up with his back against the headboard, sheets falling to expose everything from his waist up. 
you whine in impatience, glaring at him like a sullen child. satoru basically just edged you — one second you're about to get to best orgasm of your life, the next you're forced to watch your boyfriend chat on the phone nonchalantly as if he wasn't just moaning your name like a slut three minutes earlier.
satoru shoots a glare at you and pats his lap, pressing a finger to his lips as a reminder to stay quiet.
well then, he shouldn't have picked up the phone in the middle of fucking you.
you scoot yourself into his lap, purposefully positioning yourself so that your pussy just barely rubs against the head of satoru's still-dripping cock.
it's so worth it when you hear satoru inhale a sharp breath and start to squirm under you, somehow both trying to push himself inside but also trying to inch himself away. it's like he can't decide, but the way his face flushes red speaks volumes.
his voice is breathier than normal as he squeezes his watery eyes shut. "yeah yeah, that's perfect. you mind if i put y'on hold for a sec? alright, thanks."
you glance over at satoru as he retracts the phone from his ear and puts it on mute. not even a second later, he's back on you, manhandling you into a position where he can comfortably eat your pussy, a cheeky smile on his lips.
"you think you're so fucking funny, don't ya?" satoru cooes, looking up at you as he eats you out sloppily. a mixture of his saliva and your essence drips down his chin, and the lewd sounds slipping from his lips are pornworthy. the wail that slips out of your lips when satoru bites down on your thigh hard enough to leave a mark is anything but appropriate, especially when he presses his lips back to your pussy and laughs in the middle of tonguefucking you.
"fuck, you're so lucky my phone's on mute right now," satoru groans, still buried in between your thighs. "god, if my old man could hear you now—"
"your dad's on the other end of the phone?!" you gasp, swatting satoru's head and frantically reaching over him to check if the phone was actually on mute — knowing satoru, it could've just slipped his mind. intentionally.
satoru scowls, muttering a reminder for you to stay still while he eats his dessert before rolling his eyes and grumbling "what does it matter?"
"uh, that's embarrassing!" you whine. when satoru nudges his nose against you again, you reluctantly spread your thighs for him so he can continue his meal. satoru mumbles a thanks, but he doesn't respond beyond that.
"satoru!"
"what??"
"don't you have to finish your call?"
satoru sticks out his bottom lip, fixing his cerulean eyes on you and pouting. "you were just complaining about the call and now you want me to go back??"
"it's your dad, satoru," you groan, pushing his shoulders away from your legs and ignoring his protests. "you don't get any more pussy until you finish that damn call."
"i hate you."
"love you lots, baby."
satoru sighs dramatically and unmutes the call, not bothering to respond to his dad's questions with answers longer than a word or two. after another minute of this, his dad finally hangs up and satoru lets out an elated cheer.
he turns to you with a mischievous smirk. 
"now, where were we?"
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mahgyu · 11 days
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Choso smut + N$FW audio
• minors do not interact! 
──── Choso was feeling so strange about receiving a blowjob for the first time in his life.
And even though it was a new sensation for him, it was surprising. Choso had restless hands, unsure where to put them, his tongue came out of his mouth, wetting his dry thin lips. Choso's cock felt heavy on your tongue, spreading the drops of pre-cum that gathered above the slit, his skin was hot, essentially burning at your touch. He let out a short moan as he felt your wet silky tongue moving slightly under the head of his penis. You used your hands to anchor yourself, your nails leaving crescent moons on the surface of his thick muscular thighs as you gripped him.
On impulse, Choso entered your flexible mouth with more force, the sudden act causing you to gag, which immediately made Choso concerned when he noticed.
But you were quick to reassure him, smiling wickedly at him while still holding him in your mouth. You then moved your fingers down to his heavy balls, caressing them firmly, eliciting a sudden moan from Choso.
"So you're the type who enjoys choking games, Cho? What a dirty boy you're proving to be, huh?" You tease, smiling even wider when you notice him shrinking back shyly. You resume sucking him, this time faster and squeezing him harder.
"N-no, I didn't mean to do t-that, shit, please, slower" He tries to explain as he struggles not to reach his limit yet. The uncomfortable sensation from the beginning was barely present now as pleasure took over.
"Ah, baby, it's okay. You can fuck my throat if you want" Your voice, sounding so velvety while saying such promiscuous things, left Choso mesmerized.
He murmurs softly and you feel the blockage in your throat open up as Choso's cock reaches deeper, but this time slowly. Your mouth gradually closes around Choso's penis, getting tighter for him with each second as he settles shakily into you.
And Choso settled into your little mouth, moaning louder as he felt your throat around him, pushing himself into you until your nose bumped against his pelvis. His head tilted back and eyes tightly shut, his shoulders rising and falling erratically as he frantically tried to control his breathing.
"A-ah, that's it, so deep" Choso says hoarsely, now allowing himself to stroke your hair. You murmured in acknowledgment, running your nails along his thighs, sending shivers down his skin. Choso's breath caught when your throat vibrated around him, causing you to shift position as your pussy became uncomfortably wet, craving touch.
Choso's grip on your hair tightened, now using it to guide your head down rather than having to push into you. His brows furrowed, lips parting in a soft moan as he guided your mouth up and down along his shaft. Your tongue tracing the veins that slightly protruded on his skin, the salty taste of pre-cum coating your mouth entirely. Drool accumulated at the back of your throat and dribbled from the corners of your mouth each time Choso entered or withdrew. You sucked the saliva and pre-cum that flooded your mouth, causing him to feel your throat tighten around his cock every time you swallowed.
"I knew you liked this, you pervert " You tease again, amused and breathless, while Choso, in turn, has his lips curling into a small satisfied smile as he drifts further into his own pleasure.
ㅤㅤㅤ
Finally, Choso's version!! (I think this needs to be turned up a bit more to be heard better)
Which one do you suggest should be next?
Your interaction is very important to me, reblogs and comments are always welcome 🫶🏻💕
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bi-writes · 15 days
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ok but soulmate au with ghost but it's the fucking opposite of rainbows and sunshine. (18+)
you share his trauma. his stress. his anxiety. you do not know who he is, and yet you know the pain of a thousand punches because it's the only feeling he has ever given you. you know the grueling ache of abandonment and the terrible neglect of abuse and the disgusting amalgamation of all your worst nightmares before you even turn 20. everything that he gives you feels aggressive, like it burns, and he only ever gives you reprieve for so long until you just feel it all over again.
it makes you tired. it makes you sick. at first, as a girl, all you wanted to do was comfort him. you wanted to know who he was so you could kiss the cigarette burns that you feel and soak up the blood you know he bleeds.
but as you age, you begin to hate him. you hate him because he does this to you, he hurts you, doesn't he know that he's hurting you? doesn't he know that everything he feels, you feel tenfold, doesn't he know that the terror and the horror of everything he witnesses weighs down your chest, makes you feel like you're drowning over and over and over again?
for a few years into your adulthood, everything is quiet. you feel little except the ache in his back he never tends to, the creak of his knee joints that he refuses to stretch out. you wish you knew him so you could scold him for it, but you curse at a ghost. sometimes you think about doing something to get back at him--you think about carving a FUCK YOU into your arm, about throwing yourself in front of a bus just so he can fucking understand that his entire life is one fucked-up cycle of pain and misery and horror, but you can't bring yourself to do it.
you can't hurt him. you just can't.
and then, the real pain begins. it brings you to your knees, this pain. you scream, you wail, because it feels like you're being carved from the inside-out. your face burns. your chest heaves. you feel like your ribs are breaking, you can't breathe, you claw at the invisible wounds that your soulmate must be wearing, and you beg him to stop, you beg him to let me go--just fucking die already--please, please, please--
those weeks haunt you. the torture he endures, it is branded to you. you wear no scars, and you never lost any blood, but the phantom flesh that you know is gone follows you in your sleep and never shuts up. it talks, it snarls, it eats at your insides. even when he heals, you are never the same. you wake up from nightmares that you know you share with him. you look over your shoulder for the predators you know he has encountered, and you cry yourself to sleep over the loss of something that you can't even decipher because you have no idea who he is or what he buried to feel this way inside.
he's sick. he's twisted. he's a walking corpse, he has no redeemable qualities, he is selfish and mean and cruel, and you hate him, and if it wasn't for the pain that you would feel, the first thing you would do when you saw him is drive something right through his heart to finally stop the undying infection he spreads to everything that he touches.
you know it is him when you finally meet him. you would know him anywhere; you’d know him just by the scars alone who he is because you remember what it felt like when he got them. when you eye the sleeve of tattoos along his left arm--the fucked, shitty, sunburnt art that made it impossible for you to finish your university exams. the faded, grey circles that line the other, ones you recognize being from the burning cigarettes that you would smell when you closed your eyes. and when he removes his mask briefly, you recognize the scar that cuts above his lip and strikes through his eye--that one left you reeling on the bathroom floor particularly loudly. you thought he might be blind if it wasn't for seeing the darkness of both of his eyes.
you start to cry. you start to cry because as soon as he realizes who you are, as soon as you see that flicker of knowing flash across his eyes, all of the hatred and the anger and the poison that plagued you for all this time vanishes. everything you fought so hard to feel, all the misery you wanted to bestow upon him for making your life a living hell, it's gone.
because the universe is cruel, the universe has done what it has done, and it has made this singular person just for you, and against everything you believe, you know that you love him, and you hate yourself for it, and you hate the universe, too.
you have endured. but maybe you endured so he didn't have to. maybe you endured so that he could have this, the feeling that he feels right now, that feeling of sudden relief.
he slides a large hand over his chest, flinching slightly. he blinks, understanding suddenly that he's feeling your joy, your elation. when you shuffle your way over to him, breaching the conversation the men around him are having, you ignore their confused stares as you fling yourself into his chest.
ghost forces you against him, trapping you to him. he practically chokes, tangling a gloved hand into your hair, and you sob into the warm skin of his neck as he hoists you into his arms, into his lap. you don't pay attention to the curious voices around you, you just bury yourself into him and cry. his body is the evidence of all that has happened to him, and you aren't angry anymore because you're relieved.
he's real. he's alive. he's here. he's okay.
when you pull back to look up at him, you blink away the tears that are falling fast down your face. he stares down equally as intensely, drinking in the sight of those big, wet eyes. when he smooths a big hand down your face, he grumbles when he realizes what you are, how you know him.
he never realized this was what he and his soulmate shared. you in your life had never felt pain like he had--he had no idea what he was doing to you. he had no idea what you were surviving at the same time.
he closes his eyes and rests his forehead against yours, and your lips tremble as you cup his cheeks and hold him close.
it feels wrong to feel this kind of comfort, but he does anyways. he thinks, maybe, that perhaps the only reason he survived was because of you.
because there was someone else, far away, that loved him enough to keep him breathing. even when he thought it was over.
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coqvttes · 8 months
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୨୧― KINKTOBER: ❝DON'T BE GENTLE❞ ― KÖNIG.
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― ꒰ SIZE KINK ✰ KINKTOBER M.LIST ꒱ ―
୨୧˚ synopsis: after begging your gentle giant of a lover, könig to go rough on you, he lets loose tonight and shows you just how strong he really is...
୨୧˚ warnings: nsfw 16+ only, manhandling, size kink, p in v, petnames, degradation, fem!reader, sub!reader, dom!könig, creampie, teasing, hairpulling, dacryphilia?, roughness, spanking, slapping, aftercare, lmk if i forgot anything!
୨୧˚ wc: 1.4k
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your jaw hangs open and your glossy eyes are practically rolling back into your head as he pounds into your sopping cunt mercilessly. plump tits bouncing freely with every harsh thrust of his, causing your thoughts to grow hazy and dumb. his large, rough palms are stretched out on both sides of you, his rough fingers digging into the mattress, keeping you caged beneath his much larger frame.
you try your best to focus on his burly figure above you, but you keep whining as your little cunt struggles to take all of him in. your eyes become squeezed shut, your head turning to the side as you grow lost in the overwhelming pleasure, but you're alerted by the sudden light slap on your cheek. you gasp at the contact and more tears spill from your eyes.
"wan' you to ruin me, könig! don't want you to be gentle", you had pleaded fluttering your lashes at him innocently. and that's how you end up like this. tiny body pinned down on his king-sized bed as he forces his massive dick inside of your needy little cunt. all your little brain can manage to think about is how big he is.
gosh, you've never felt so full with how he's meanly bullying his cock into your drooling cunt with no remorse whatsoever. your shaky little hands gripping onto his huge bulging biceps with so much strength that if were he another man, it would hurt — but no, he's könig of course.
your mind is void of coherent thoughts as all you can manage to do is moan delightedly, accepting all that he gives you. with his strong arms he moves both of your legs up to rest on his shoulders. a high-pitched pornographic moan slips from your lips as you get used to the new angle.
his thick cock hitting all of the sweet spots inside of you, encouraging hot tears to roll down your cheeks. your fingers slide up his toned abdomen, needing to feel anything and everything that's his. he takes in the sight of you beneath him and he almost feels bad for being so rough with you, but he keeps his composure.
with the lewd medley of the headboard banging into the wall, wet squelching, your sweet moans, and obscene skin-on-skin slapping noises, the sounds bouncing off the walls of your bedroom are purely sinful. creating a tune that he doesn't ever want to forget, and neither do you.
your watery innocent eyes plead with his own as if begging him to slow down. but no, the last thing you want him to do right now is slow down. shaky hands reach up to his broad shoulders, trying to hold onto him for purchase and your lips part as you try and push yourself up in a frantic attempt to kiss him.
your body desperately yearning for his gentle touch in contrast to his brutal movements. you're relieved he begins to lean down, his lips merely inches away from your own, but he doesn’t kiss you. you let out a pitiful whine and he almost laughs at you with how pathetic you’re being.
in a single moment, with little effort, he cruelly pulls out of your warmth, flipping you over onto your tummy. you squeal at how easy it is for him to manhandle you around into different positions that suit his liking. you hate to admit that his strength alone turns you on so much. before you can complain to him, he’s pushing into you again, picking up on the brutal pace as if nothing had happened.
"du bettelst immer darum, gefickt zu werden, nicht wahr, kleine schlampe?" he snarls, snapping his hips against yours. (always begging to get fucked aren't you, little slut)
pathetic moans and cries spill from your lips into the sheets as he pounds into you mercilessly, his calloused palms gripping onto your hips so tight you’ll probably have bruises in the morning.
"du magst es, wenn ich dich eine schlampe nenne hm, dirty girl?" his rough movements are relentless as he makes no effort to slow down. (you like it when i call you a slut hm, dirty girl)
your mewls are muffled by the bed and he's having none of it. he raises his hand slightly before bringing it back down, spanking you. you lunge forward from the sensation. he then pulls your head up from the mattress by your hair, but not too hard, he doesn’t want to hurt you.
“say it.” he punctuates each of his words with a harsh thrust.
“y-yes! i love it—mmm!” you blubber out desperately, your hands gripping the sheets beneath you for dear life. he lets go of your hair and you can practically hear his satisfied smirk as his thrusts grow stronger, deeper and faster, rutting into you like an animal. you take it like a good girl, his good girl as if you were made for him. 
he applies just enough pressure with his palm pressing down on your lower back that makes you arch just perfectly. his rough palms kneading into your arse whilst you let him use you as he pleases.
just as you feel your climax approaching, he stops thrusting, hot tears spill down your cheeks as your fists bunch up the sheets beneath you. your weeping cunt clenches around him, dragging a gluttonous groan from his mouth. he leans down, pressing his chest to your back, his lips lingering just by your ear.
“say please, schatz,” you just know he’s grinning evilly behind you and you lose all sense of self-respect, just wanting to cum so bad.
“p-please! wanna cum please, i’ll be good!”
satisfied with your answer he gives you no warning as he slips back into you with ease, the wetness of your cunt sucking him in making it easy for him to thrust into you. you slowly feel your knees starting to give out, but thats not a problem, he holds you up easily and you feel your muscles tensing as you feel your orgasm approaching.
the sounds of his grunting, the squelching noises from your cunt, and the tingling in your core cause your mind to go numb and your body to spasm as you cum around him with a high-pitched cry, collapsing into the bed.
he follows moments after you, driving into you a few more times before his hips stutter as he releases inside of you, making you feel full and warm with him. as you catch your breath, his fingers, now gentle, run up and down your back tenderly in a soothing motion.
“was i too mean to you, schatz?” his voice is different now, it’s genuine and caring. he pulls out of you slowly, gently turning you over so he can see your pretty face. you shake your head and tug him down for a kiss. you sigh into his lips, finally getting a taste of his lips that you'd been yearning for the whole night. 
"i'll be right back, liebling." pulling away from you, he smiles down at your post-euphoric state. sliding off of the bed, he slips his briefs back on and disappears into the bathroom for a few minutes before returning with a playful grin.
slipping into your warm embrace, he wastes no time in cradling you in his brawny arms. you almost laugh at his switch of character, how he was just moments earlier, fucking your brains out and now he's picking you up in his arms like his sweetheart. supporting you from under your knees and arms, he carries you to the bathroom, you smile fondly at the sight of a warm bath ready just for you.
he carefully lowers you down into the porcelain tub and you exhale contently as your sore body makes contact with the warm temperature of the bathwater along with the sweet smell of your lavender soap, and the gentle touch of könig's palm as he strokes your blushing cheek tenderly.
and after a few heartbeats of watching you bathe, he just can't help himself before getting into the tub behind you, the water splashing everywhere as his much larger body envelopes yours. pulling your bare back flush against his chest, your frame now trapped in his loving embrace. in that moment you just know, he'll always care for you, your one and only könig.
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‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ all works belong to © coqvettes 2023. i do not give permission to claim, translate or copy any of my works. reblogs are appreciated!
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candy69gurl · 26 days
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Hmphh M' Sleeping !!
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PAIRING Step dad!Gojo Satoru x f!reader, Step dad!Toji Fushiguro x f!reader, Step dad!Nanami Kento x f!reader, Step dad!Geto Suguru x f!reader, Step dad!Sukuna x f!reader, Step dad!Shiu Kong x f!reader, Step dad!Hiromi Higuruma x f!reader, Step dad!Kamo Choso x f!reader [seperate]
SYNOPSIS After a long day, when your step dad returns home to find you asleep, looking all innocent and tempting...They are unable to resist touching you!
WARNING stepcest, taboo, somnophilia, non/con (but you like it), pre-established relationship, comfort, nipple sucking playing & pinching, p in v, dirty talks (duh), pussy eating fingering, use of four arms for pleasure (sukuna), cock warming, clit rubbing, soft sex, clit rubbing with cock, blowjob, m!masturbation
NOTE I'm just a girl (with daddy issues) ... Some people may find the contents unpleasant. Simply block and move on; please do not make disparaging remarks about me; if you do, prepare to get trolled by my moots. Please read the warnings and do not do this at home (duh)
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◈ SATORU GOJO
Gojo saunters into the house, a tired smile on his face, "Daddy's home!" he calls out, hoping to hear your voice in response, but, he hears nothing but silence. His footsteps carry him upstairs, concern beginning to creep in as he pushes open your bedroom door.
He pauses in the doorway, taking in the sight before him. The dim light casts shadows across your face, highlighting the soft curves of your lips and the delicate lines of your features. His steps are quiet and careful, almost hesitant, as he approaches you.
He gently brushes a loose strand of hair from your face, feeling the warmth of your skin under his fingertips. His heart skips a beat at your sight, looking so peaceful and innocent. But then he notices something strange - his shirt, the one he wore yesterday, draped over your shoulders, exposing your chest. His gaze drops to the hemline of the shirt, where it pooled above your waist, leaving your stomach bare.
He raises an eyebrow, his amusement warring with his confusion. "Wearing my shirt, huh?" he teases, trying to lighten the mood.
As Gojo continues to tease you, his fingers dance lightly across your lips, tracing the curve of your neckline, and then lower still, to the swell of your breast barely contained by his shirt. Your skin ignites at his touch, sending shivers down your spine. As he leans in further, his warm breath tickles your ear, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin.
"You shouldn't wear my clothes, you know.. They are too big for you," he murmurs, his voice low and sultry, sending heat coursing through your veins. Without warning, his lips close around your nipple, drawing it into his mouth.
"Mmm, you're driving me crazy," he groans, suckling softly. His free hand reaches up to cup the other breast, his thumb grazing its peak. "I can't help myself, you know."
He pulls back slightly, his eyes gleaming with mischief. His hand slides down your body, tracing the edge of his shirt where it meets your shorts, lingering for a moment before moving back up again.
"Is this what you want, hm?"
His voice is thick with desire, his words heavy with innuendo. He doesn't wait for an answer, instead, he dives back in, his lips closing around your nipple once more. This time, he sucks harder, his tongue flicking against the tight bud. You could feel yourself getting wetter, your body responding to his touch despite your sleepy state.
"You're so responsive, always ready for me," he growls, his voice rough and deep. His fingers trail down your stomach, dipping into the indentation of your navel before continuing southwards.
As Gojo continues his exploration, his fingers brush against the thin fabric of your shorts, sliding easily between your legs. He moans softly, feeling how wet and ready you already are for him. He can't believe how responsive you are even in your sleep.
"Oh, baby," he whispers, his voice thick with lust. "You're so fucking wet for me."
His finger slips inside you, slick and smooth. You moan softly, your hips bucking involuntarily, seeking more of his touch. He chuckles low in his throat, loving the way you respond to him.
"So eager, so desperate," he says, his voice filled with satisfaction. "Always wanting me, even in your dreams."
He adds another finger, thrusting slowly but steadily, watching as your chest heaves with each movement. Your breathing becomes ragged, your body writhing beneath his touch.
As Gojo removes his clothing, revealing his hard member, his eyes never leave yours. There's a mix of excitement and mischief in his gaze as he positions himself at your entrance.
"That's right, sleep tight," he whispers, his voice thick with desire. "Let me take care of you."
He can't help but smile as he hears you mumble softly, calling him "Daddy." It sends a thrill of pleasure through him, knowing that you've accepted his presence.
He responds with a low, rumbling laugh, "That's right, baby. Daddy's here." He gently pushes inside, feeling you clench around him. He coos softly, urging you to keep sleeping as he starts to move.
Each thrust is slow and deliberate, designed to awaken your senses without fully awakening you. It feels like a dream, yet at the same time, it feels so real. You can feel every inch of him, every push and pull, and it's driving you wild.
Gojo watches you closely, his expression a mixture of desire and tenderness. He knows you're not fully awake, but he can't resist giving you pleasure, even in your sleep. Each time he moves, he watches your face, gauging your reactions, making sure you're comfortable.
"Daddy's gonna make you feel so good," he promises, his voice gravelly with desire. He picks up the pace, pounding into you, his movements strong and purposeful.
You moan softly, your body responding to his touch even though you're still half-asleep.
Gojo watches you closely, his expression a mix of desire and tenderness. He takes his time, savoring every moment of this intimate connection. With each thrust, he sees the emotions flashing across your face, the pleasure and trust that you're giving him.
"You're so beautiful," he groans, his voice thick with passion. "And mine.. all fucking mine to claim.."
He can't help but speed up, driven by the need to give you as much pleasure as possible.
As Gojo continues to move, you begin to overcome slumber, whispering lazily, "Daddy, I missed you so much." His heart swells with warmth at your words, and he responds with a low, reassuring growl, "I know, baby. I'll make it up to you."
His thrusts grow stronger, more demanding. He nuzzles your neck, leaving a series of tender kisses and love bites, punctuated by gentle nibbles. Then, he sinks his teeth into your skin, marking you with a passionate hickee. His mark is a mixture of pain and pleasure, a testament to the connection between you two.
With each thrust, Gojo can feel your body tightening around him, drawing him deeper inside you. Your moans become louder, more urgent, signaling your impending climax. You cling to him, your fingers digging into his back, your desire mirroring his own.
Finally, you reach your peak, your body convulsing around him, releasing a wave of pleasure that shakes you to your core.
As you continue to tremble in the aftermath of your orgasm, Gojo groans, "Shit, baby, keep squeezing me like that... Ah!" His own release is near, the tension building within him reaching its peak.
Your eyes drift shut, your words slurred as you mumble, "Daddy, m' sleepy." Despite your words, your body continues writhing, still responding to his touch.
Gojo grins, his heart swelling with affection for you. "Alr, baby, just a few more minutes," he promises. His thrusts become more insistent, filling you completely with each powerful stroke.
As he thrusts, he watches the emotions play across your face - pleasure, exhaustion, and contentment. His own release builds, and finally, he feels it burst forth. He groans, pouring himself into you, sealing the bond between you two as you both collapse into each other's arms.
"Sleep, baby," he whispers, cradling you close, protecting you from the world outside. And as your breathing steadies, he knows that nothing will ever come between you two. Nothing and no one.
◈ TOJI FUSHIGURO
The darkness outside is eerily silent as Toji returns home, his eyes scanning the surroundings as he walks, trying to shake off the lingering scent of death. The bloodstained clothing clinging to his body seemed to weigh him down, and his mind racing with thoughts of the deed he have just committed. He needs to wash the evidence off his hands, and there's only one person, he knows he can find solace from- you.
With cat-like steps, Toji creeps into your room, his eyes adjusting to the dim light within.
As Toji approaches the bed, he gently props himself up beside you, careful not to disturb your peaceful slumber. With a soft whisper, he scoops you into a gentle embrace, wrapping his arms around you tightly. The tension in his body begins to dissipate as he inhales deeply, taking in the sweet scent of your sleep-warmed skin.
His lips brush against yours, showering you with tender kisses. "Ah, I missed ya so much," he whispers against your ear, his breath hot and labored. "Just being near you calms my soul." He nuzzles against your shoulder-space,, his lips tracing the contours of your features as he speaks. "Your body is so warm," he murmurs, his voice husky with emotion. "It's intoxicating."
He pulls back slightly, gazing at you with an adoring look. "You can't imagine, how much I love you.." he speaks, his voice trembling with sincerity.
As he speaks, his hand drifts down to cup your breasts, his fingers gently kneading the soft flesh, " Ah I missed these too."
You stir slightly at his touch, your eyelids fluttering, but your deep slumber stops your movement soon.
Your body responds instinctively to his touch, your nipple growing stiff beneath his fingers. Toji's eyes gleam with excitement as he notices, his grip on you tightening ever so slightly.
"S-shit," he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. "You're so responsive, even in your sleep."
Toji wraps his arms around you, his sweaty and bloody scent wafts up to fill your nostrils, carrying with it the heavy weight of his guilt. Despite the overwhelming aroma, your subconscious seems to crave the comfort of his presence, and you exhale deeply, embracing the sensation of being wrapped in his arms.
With a gentle tug, Toji pulls you closer, shifting his position so that you slide onto his chest. Your body molds to his, and you settle into the curve of his torso as if you were sinking into a cloud. Your small frame rests comfortably on his chest, and his arms wrap around you, holding you close. The softness of his clothes provides a makeshift mattress, and you seem to instinctively snuggle deeper into his embrace, your head resting on the crook of his neck.
As Toji's hands move down your body, his fingers deftly sliding your panties off your hips. The fabric whispers against your skin as it's removed, leaving you exposed and vulnerable to his touch. His clothed cock presses against your bare pussy, the friction generating a subtle tremble in your loins. Wetness seeps from your center, staining the fabric of his pants with its warmth.
Despite the sudden intimacy, you remain entranced in a somnambulant state, your body responding instinctively to the stimulation.
"Mmm...ahh..." you mumble sleepily into his neck, your breathing growing heavier as your body trembles with pleasure. Toji's grip on you tightens, his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths.
"Oh, you're so wet," he whispers, his voice husky with desire. "You are making me so hard, mhmm. "
He continues to stroke himself against your pussy, the pressure building with each passing moment. Your sleepy eyes begin to flicker open, but you don't seem to fully register the situation, instead simply reacting to the sensations being inflicted to you.
Toji's fingers wrap around your hips, lifting your ass upward as he frees his swollen cock from his pants. The tip of his penis glints in the dim light of the room, slick with precum. He pauses for a moment, his gaze locked on your sleepy face, before slowly guiding himself into your waiting heat.
As he pushes deeper, his movements deliberate and slow, your sleepy eyes gradually open, taking in the surreal scene unfolding before you. Your pupils dilate as you process the reality of the situation, your breath catching in your throat.
"A-ah!" you moan softly, your voice barely audible above a whisper, as Toji's cock slides deeper into your depths. Your gaze remains fixed on his, a mixture of confusion and arousal etched across your face.
Toji's eyes burn with intensity, his face twisted in a mixture of passion and desperation. "Ohh~ you're so tight," he gasps, his voice strained with effort. "So perfect."
As he withdraws, his cock slips almost entirely out of you, leaving only the swollen head nestled within your entrance. Your muscles contract reflexively, squeezing him.
Toji's grip on your hips tightening as he plunges back into your depths. The motion is slow and deliberate, each thrust building upon the last as he seeks to claim every inch of your body.
"I missed fucking ya, so much," he growls, his teeth bared in a fierce snarl. "I needed ya so badly."
The words are spoken against your ear, his breath hot and rank with the scent of blood and sweat.
As Toji continues to thrust into you, his pace steady and deliberate, your initial moans of pleasure begin to fade away. Your body relaxes, succumbing to the gentle rocking motion, and your eyelids droop once more.
Soft, contented purrs escape your lips, harmonizing with the rhythm of Toji's strokes. Your breath grows deeper and slower, your body swaying in time with his movements. The tension in your limbs eases, replaced by a sense of relaxation and surrender.
Toji's eyes burn with intensity, his gaze locked on your face as he reads your reactions. He slows his pace further, allowing himself to become lost in the sensation of being buried deep within your warmth.
"Ah, yeah... you're so relaxed, aren't ya?" he whispers, his voice low and husky. "You're letting go, giving yourself over to me."
He pauses, his cock still deep within your depths, and gazes down at your face. Your eyelids flutter, your breath slowing further as you continue to purr softly.
"Good girl," he whispers, his voice filled with satisfaction. "You're so good for me."
Toji's hands dart up to your chest, grasping the hem of your top and pulling it upwards. The fabric strains against your skin as he tugs it over your head. His own shirt follows suit, peeling off his torso to reveal his chiseled physique.
Your nipples, previously softened by your sleep, now re-harden as they graze against Toji's chest. He wraps his arms around you, his palms pressed against your back as he draws you in closer. The friction between your nipples and his chest creates a tantalizing sensation, sending shivers down your spine.
"You feel so good against me," he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. "Like you were made for me alone."
Toji's hips pick up speed, his cock bruising your gummy walls as he rocks his body against yours.
As Toji's movements intensify, your hands unconsciously reach up to grasp his hair, tangling your fingers within the dark strands. Your sleepy moans grow louder, your body beginning to tremble with pleasure.
The sound of your moans sends a wave of excitement coursing through Toji's veins. His eyes blaze with intensity as he gazes down at your face, his grip on your hips tightening as he buries himself deeper within your warmth.
"Ahh, yeah... you're loving this, aren't ya?" he growls, his voice low and husky. Toji's grip on your hips tightens, his fingers digging into your skin as he drives himself deeper into your depths. Your nails dig into his scalp, your hands pulling his hair down as you arch your back cumming all over his cock.
As your walls clamp continuously against his shaft, Toji's climax builds, his movements becoming more erratic and urgent. Your body flexes beneath him, your nails digging deeper into his scalp as you writhe in ecstasy.
With a final, brutal thrust, Toji pulls out of you, his cock spurting forth a stream of semen that splashes against your back. The fluid arcing through the air, coating your skin with its sticky warmth.
"Ahhh, yes!" Toji bellows, his body convulsing with release.
As the adrenaline begins to wear off, Toji's movements slow, his chest heaving with exertion. With a gentle push, he guides you backward onto the bed, careful not to disturb your peaceful slumber.
Once you've settled into the blankets, Toji curls his body around yours, wrapping his arms tightly around your shoulders. His chest presses against your back, his warm breath rustling against the hairs on the back of your neck.
As the silence washes over you, your eyelids drooping with exhaustion, Toji's grip on you tightens, his big fingers intertwining with yours.
◈ NANAMI KENTO
Nanami sighs heavily as he enters the living room, kicking off his shoes and tossing his jacket onto the couch. "Ugh, Gojo..." he mutters under his breath, shaking his head. Working with the strongest jujutsu sorcerer in history isn't exactly easy, especially when the man seems to enjoy pushing his buttons.
After removing his tie and undoing the top buttons of his shirt, Nanami heads towards the bathroom to wash away the stress of the day. As the warm water cascads over his body,
He lets out a small groan of relief. The hot water seeps into his tense muscles, helping ease some of the soreness from his long day at work. He runs his fingers through his wet hair, ridding himself of any product, before rinsing thoroughly.
Stepping out of the shower, wrapped only in a towel, Nanami decides to pay a visit to you in your room before heading to bed.
You were fast asleep, your hair slightly disheveled and your features relaxed, looking almost peaceful.
Nanami approaches your bed softly, watching you sleep. He feels a pang of affection for you, and can't help but lean down to place a kiss on your forehead. Your skin feels warm against his lips, comforting.
Suddenly, your arms wrap around him, trapping him there. At first, he stiffens, surprised by your sudden movement, "What's this?" he asks softly, his voice laced with amusement. "Trying to keep me here?"
As Nanami stands there, caught in your embrace, you pull his head further into your chest. He feels a slight resistance at first, but soon relaxes, letting his cheekbones press gently against your skin.
He balances himself on his two hands, leaning into you and resting his body weight against your chest.
The cold water droplets from Nanami's damp hair fall lightly onto your warm chest, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. You tighten your grip on his head, reveling in the feeling of his body pressed against yours.
Nanami tries to shift and wiggle free from your hold, but quickly realizes that it's futile. With a soft chuckle, he gives up and allows himself to remain in your embrace.
Despite his best efforts to resist, Nanami finds himself becoming increasingly aroused. Your scent fills his nostrils, sending a wave of desire through him. He tries to ignore it, knowing that he should not indulge in such thoughts, especially given your current sleepy state.
But as your warmth envelops him, and your heartbeat syncs with his, it becomes harder and harder for him to fight the urge. He can feel his arousal growing stronger, straining against his towels begging for release.
Nanami lies there, trapped in your embrace, you mumble his name in your sleep. He responds with a muttered curse under his breath, his frustration mounting, knowing he shouldn't, he can't help but reach down and remove the towel that covers his body.
With his arousal growing stronger, he rubs his hardened cock against your thigh, seeking relief. You stir slightly in your sleep, but don't awaken fully. Nanami continues to rub himself against you, the friction sending shivers down his spine.
Feeling guilty for using your body while you're asleep, he whispers a soft apology, "Sorry, baby." Despite the remorse, he can't bring himself to stop. The sensation of your skin against his erection is too intense, too pleasurable.
Nanami continues to move slowly against your thighs, his breathing becoming heavier with each passing moment. He wants nothing more than to bury himself inside you right now, but he knows he can't do that to you while you're asleep.
You unconsciously rub your thighs together, catching Nanami's dick in between. This motion causes his arousal to peak even higher, and when your grip on his head loosens, he takes the opportunity to get off your chest.
He positions himself closer to your core, feeling your wetness through your panties. A low, primal groan escapes his lips, "Shit," he murmurs, unable to contain his excitement any longer.
In one swift motion, Nanami pulls your panties to the side, revealing your swollen bud. Nanami touches you intimately, you keep sleeping, completely unaware of his actions. He watches your face carefully, searching for any sign that you've woken up, but your expression remains peaceful and serene.
Then he starts to rub his dick against your clit, eliciting a soft whimper from your lips. You squirm slightly in your sleep, your body responding to his touch despite your unconscious state.
Burying his face in the crook of your neck, he inhales deeply, taking in your sweet scent. He continues to rub against your sensitive bud, his movements slow and deliberate. He wants to savor this moment, to make sure you feel everything he's feeling. His breaths become ragged and uneven, his body trembling with anticipation.
Eventually, he can't take it anymore. He lifts his head, trailing kisses down your neck and chest, pausing briefly to suck on your clad nipple, causing you to stir in your sleep. You instinctively arch your back, pressing yourself into his touch.
Nanami smiles, pleased with your reaction. He gradually increases the intensity of his movements. Your body jerks in response, and he can feel your arousal building rapidly. Moaning softly against your neck, he can barely contain his own excitement.
Your eyes slowly flutter open on hearing him groaning and whimpering in pleasure. Noticing his movements, you decide to keep quiet, choosing to enjoy the pleasure he brings without interrupting him.
His climax approaches soon, he pulls your top up and finally releases with a loud moan, coating your stomach with his seed. You close your eyes again, relishing the sensation.
Once satisfied, Nanami rests for a moment, still hovering above you. After a few deep breaths, he climbs off of you and settles beside you, wrapping his arm around you protectively. He kisses the top of your head gently, whispering a gentle 'sorry' again. You stir slightly in your sleep, but don't wake up entirely. Instead, you snuggle deeper into his embrace, feeling content and safe in his arms.
As you both lie there, wrapped in each other's arms, Nanami can feel your rhythmic breathing slowly soothing him. The last remnants of his stress and fatigue melt away, replaced by a sense of peace and contentment.
Slowly, he drifts off into a deep sleep, his body finally able to rest after the long day he's had..
◈ GETO SUGURU
Over the years, your relationship with Suguru, who you refer to as your stepfather, had grown complicated. On the surface, he appeared to be a caring and attentive guardian, providing everything you needed. But beneath the façade, you knew that he detested non-sorcerers, including yourself.
You decided to take extra care in ensuring that you didn't provoke him. You maintained a distance, avoiding any actions that might anger him. Despite the knowledge of his disdain, you still loved him dearly and appreciated his efforts to care for you.
Unbeknownst to you, Suguru harbored more than just an affectionate bond for you. He had developed a deep love - almost possessive - towards you, the only non-sorcerer he cared for. This complex emotion manifested itself in a more physical manner than he intended.
As you moved around the house doing chores, you often caught a glimpse of him watching you from a distance. A chill ran down your spine as you felt his eyes on you. You tried to shake off the feeling and continued with your tasks.
Today, he is out again, committing mass slaughter of mankind, but you cannot say anything, you don't have the power to.
Night fell upon the house, and as slumber begins to settle in your eyes, your thoughts drift to Mimiko and Nanako, the two girls Suguru treats like daughters. You envy their close bond with him, wishing for a similar connection of love and care.
But... Somewhere in the dark, shadows dance, and footsteps crept softly across the floorboards. Suguru... His figure moves silently, as though he's haunting the space. His eyes are dark pools of secrets, reflecting the moonlight that trickles through the windows. He approaches your bed with calculated steps, his gaze locked onto you, his eyes dark from the guilt he commited a while ago.
The distance he's kept all these years felt unbearable, and he could no longer suppress his desires. With guilt pressed on his chest, he slips into your room, closing the door softly behind him. Maybe today's the day he will finally show you, how much he loves you in a different way of course. How much different you are than other non sorcerers. The moonlight cast an ethereal glow on his face, revealing the turmoil within him. Swiftly and with great care, he climbs onto the bed, positioning himself beside you.
You stir slightly, sensing a presence in the room, but it's not enough to wake you up. Unaware of his intentions, you remain oblivious to the events unfolding.
Gently, he reaches out pulling down your panties, exposing you to his gaze. His fingers caressing your inner thighs, sending shivers down your spine. The tenderness of his touch contrasted with the sternness he displays towards others, creating an intoxicating mix of emotions within you.
His gaze lingers on the glistening folds between your legs, he takes a deep breath, steeling himself before leaning forward. His lips brushes against your inner thighs, a feather-light touch that sent shivers through your body.
You stir slightly, but sleep keeps its grip on you. You don't wake up, allowing him to continue. His tongue slides against your sensitive nub, causing a wave of sensations to wash over you.
As he pleasures you, his whispers filled the air. "I've waited for so long, Y/N. I can't wait anymore..."
The words are a testament to the torment you both have endured, the passion of him for you that has built up over time. His cravings are no longer hidden, and he allows himself to indulge in the pleasure that you offer.
His every touch, every lick, is a declaration of the love he holds for you. Despite the disgust he feels towards non-sorcerers, you are the ONLY exception. You are his forbidden fruit, the one thing he can't resist.
As his pace quickens, you feel the tension mounting within you. His dirty words echoing in your dreams making you wetter, intertwining with the pleasure he is providing. And though you sleep, your body responds to his touch, yearning for the release that awaits you both.
His mouth never leaves your sensitive flesh, his tongue dancing in a rhythmic pattern that draws you closer to the edge. The cool night air seems to vanish, replaced by a wave of heat that envelops the room.
As he tastes you on his tongue, he can't resist stroking his own erect member. With every movement of his hand, he gets closer to his own release. The friction creating a symphony of sounds that adds to the ambiance. His breath hitches his body tensing, a clear indication that he is nearing his climax.
Meanwhile, your body responds to his touch with fervor. The sensations overwhelming you, pushing you further into the realm of pleasure. Your breaths becomes uneven, your moans soft yet audible.
He keeps stroking himself. His thumb circling your nub, as his tongue delves inside you, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your entire being. His groans blending with your moans, creating a melody filling the once peaceful room.
In that moment, your eyes flutter open, catching sight of the unusual sight before you. There he is, kneeling between your legs, his eyes locking onto you with a strong determination. Seeing him like this, so intimate and vulnerable, sends a jolt of surprise coursing through you.
Unable to process what you're witnessing, you simply stare at him. He offers you a sheepish smile, as if asking for your understanding. Though the situation is confusing and unsettling, the tenderness in his gaze commands you to stay silent. You allow him to continue, surrendering to the waves of pleasure crashing over you.
His movements become more frantic, the intensity increasing as he nears his climax. His moans against your sensitive skin intensify, his efforts to hold back dwindling. The anticipation builds within the room, thick and palpable.
In that moment, curiosity gets the better of you and you muster the courage to ask, "Daddy... do you love me?"
The question hangs heavy between you, as if testing the boundaries of their unspoken agreement. To your surprise, he answers without hesitation.
"Yes, of course I do, darling," he whispers, his voice raw and full of emotion. Before you can process his response, he shifts position. His member now brushes against your slit, the contact sending sparks flying through your body. He kisses your jawline, his lips tender against your skin, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.
The sensation of his kisses and licks combined with the pulsing of your now throbbing clit against his member pushes you over the edge. Shuddering under his touch, your clit pulses wildly against his member, messing all over his cock.
At the same moment, his control snaps. With a guttural roar, he finds his release. Hot streams of liquid paint your stomach, marking you with his essence. The last remnants of his restraint slip away, and he collapses onto you, panting heavily.
In that moment, as your heartbeats synchronize, you're reminded of a certain truth. Despite everything, the love between you and Geto, the complexities that bind you together, remain unbroken.
◈ RYOMEN SUKUNA
Uraume stands before Sukuna, bowing their head in reverence. "My lord, how did it go?"
Sukuna's grin grows wider as he begins to recount his tale. "Ah, Uraume, it was glorious! I slaughtered the humans by the hundreds, reveling in their screams and pleas for mercy. Their fear was intoxicating, and their blood was sweet nectar to my palate." He chuckles to himself, remembering the thrill of the hunt.
As Sukuna finishes his tale, his gaze turns to Uraume. "And where is she?"
Uraume bows their head. "My lord, she is deep asleep, and I did not think it wise to disturb her."
Sukuna's eyes lit up with excitement. "Ah, my little girl is asleep, is she?" Sukuna steps into your room, his eyes adjusting to the darkness. The moonlight filters through the window, casting an eerie glow on the scene before him. His eyes land on you, and he is taken aback by what he sees.
You are lying on the bed, one of your hands buried deep within your panties, your breathing heavy and labored. Your robes are barely containing your body, and Sukuna can see the outline of your breasts underneath. His eyes narrow, and he can sense the desperation emanating from you. He approaches you, his four arms flexing as he moves closer.
As he reaches you, he gently grabs your wrist, pulling your hand out of your panties. Sukuna's eyes remain fixed on you as he gently kisses your forehead. He takes off your robe, and you stir in your sleep as the cool air caresses your skin. He adjusts you in his lap, and your eyes open slowly, his two members pressing against your back.
Sukuna's eyes gleam with excitement as he thrusts one of his members into you. You moan loudly, while your body adjusts to his size. His other member rubs against your asshole, sending shivers down your spine. Two of his hands grasp your hips, holding you in place as he continues to thrust. Your body starts to move with his, and you feel yourself getting closer to climax.
You lean onto his chest, and your breathing becomes slow and steady. The whole day you did nothing but annoy Uraume, now you are resting on Sukuna's chest, while he thrusts inside you. Sukuna's eyes never leave your face, watching you with a mixture of desire and tenderness. His thrusts become slower and more gentle, holding you close to his chest.
You start drifting off to sleep again, mumbling softly, "I missed you, daddy." Sukuna's heart skips a beat, and he smiles. He whispers back, "I missed you too, brat." His member continue to move slowly inside you, while you fall asleep in his embrace.
Suddenly, you feel Sukuna's big abdominal tongue stroking your tummy. It's soft and warm, and it sends shivers down your spine. You jolt awake again, moaning in pleasure as Sukuna's member continue to move inside you. Your body begins to respond to his touch, and you feel yourself getting even wetter. Sukuna's eyes gleam with excitement as he watches you squirm under his ministrations. His tongue continues to stroke your tummy, and you wrap your legs around his waist, trying to pull him deeper inside you.
"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Sukuna says, his voice low and husky.
You nod, unable to form words. All you can do is moan and squirm against him, desperately moving your hips for release.
"I knew you'd like that," Sukuna says, his smile widening. "You always did enjoy my special touches."
His tongue continues to slide against your stomach, moving in slow circles. You feel yourself getting closer to orgasm.
As you approach orgasm, Sukuna suddenly pulls out his member and inserts another one into you. You gasp in surprise, feeling the sudden change in pressure. But Sukuna doesn't stop there - he begins to grind the first member between your abdomen and his own abdominal tongue, creating a sensation unlike any you've ever experienced before.
You writhe beneath him, your body trembling with anticipation. The combination of sensations is almost too much to bear, and yet...you crave more. You feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your senses heightened to the point.
Just as you're about to reach your peak, Sukuna's other two hands come into play, fondling your breasts and tweaking your nipples. You mewl in pleasure, your body bucking against his.
And then...he pinches your nipples.
It's too much. You explode into orgasm, your walls tightening around his member as you squirt all over him. His own climax hits him, his dick slipping out of you, and you feel the warmth of his fluid splashing across your face and his chest. You collapse against him, panting heavily.
Sukuna chuckles lowly, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Hmmm.. You did great," he says, his voice rough with desire. His abdomen tongue gives a long lick on your oversensitive clit, you shudder against him, whining and panting.
After your orgasm, you drift off to sleep, your body still twitching occasionally as you fall into a deep slumber. Sukuna, however, does not join you. He sits there, his chest heaving slightly, his eyes never leaving your sleeping face. He smirks, satisfied with the sight of you sleeping peacefully after the intense moment you just shared.
As the night wears on, he lays you on the bed and stands up, stretching his muscular frame. His members are still slick with your juices, glistening in the moonlight. Sukuna walks out of the room, leaving you alone in the dimly lit chamber.
He pauses at the doorway, to gaze at your sleeping body before speaking softly," Uraume will be coming soon to check on you." The sound of the door creaking shut, soon audible. You're left alone in the silence, your body still humming from the intense experience, your breath coming out in short spurts. Wave of slumber washes over you, and you snuggle into the bedding, your mind replaying the moments of you and your step daddy together <3
◈ SHIU KONG
As you lay in bed, half-asleep, you could hear the distant sound of the front door creaking open. The sound of footsteps made its way up the stairs, and you knew your stepdad was home from another long day at work.
Stepping lightly onto the floorboards to avoid making any noise, Shiu tiptoes towards your bedroom door, catching a glimpse of you in your sleep. You are sprawled out on the bed, fast asleep, lips slightly parted, your chest gently rising and falling with each breath.
He hesitates for a moment, considering whether to wake you or simply watch you from afar. His gaze lingered on your lips, imagining how soft they would feel under his own.
Shiu finally makes his decision, pushing the door open just wide enough to slip inside. He walks towards your bed, and leans down, brushing his lips against your cheek, a faint smile on his face as he whispers softly, "Hey, kiddo, how are you doing?"
You could feel the stubble of his moustache against your skin and catch the distinct smell of his cigarette smoke.
Your response to his presence ,barely audible - a soft, almost imperceptible purr. Your hand reaches out unconsciously, gripping his hair gently, holding onto him for a brief moment, acknowledging his presence.. This small display of affection catches Shiu off guard, causing a warm feeling in his chest. He reluctantly pulls away, ready to leave your room.
But as he turns to go, he can't help but notice the way you lick your lips and bite your bottom lip in your sleep, an innocent gesture that sent a wave of desire through him. It's more than he could handle..
As he watches you, he notices your lips tremble slightly, adding another layer of complexity to the situation. Something about this sight compels him to trace the edge of your lip with his fingertip, watching as it responds to his touch.
His thumb brushes against your bottom lip, sending shivers down your spine. Before either of you can stop it, he slips his finger into your mouth, feeling the warmth and softness enveloping his digit.
His breath hitches at the sensation of your warm mouth around his finger, desire coursing through him like an electric current. This intimate act is both enticing and unsettling, causing him to harden despite his relationship to you. The lingering stress from his work melts away, replaced by a raw, primal need.
Feeling his erection growing stronger under his trousers, Shiu struggles to maintain control. This unexpected turn of events, coupled with the stress of his demanding job, has left him caught between desire and duty.
His finger slides in and out of your mouth, eliciting small moans from you in your sleep. Each movement brings him closer to losing control, yet he finds himself unable to look away. His chest rises and falls rapidly, every deep breath fueling the fire within him.
With great difficulty, he pulls his finger from your mouth, his eyes never leaving yours. He can't deny the arousal pooling within him, but he also understands the gravity of what just happened. The line between duty and desire has been blurred.
Shiu swallows hard, acknowledging the evidence of his arousal pressing against his trousers. His mind races, torn between relief and embarrassment. His thoughts jump from the implications of his reaction to the fact that your saliva still coats his finger.
Without warning, he reaches into his trousers, using the slippery digit to stroke himself through his boxers. The sensation is intense, made all the more potent by the imagination of your lips wrapped around it.
His fingers glide over his erection, matching the rhythm of your breathing. The contrast between your innocent slumber and his explicit actions adds an element of taboo.
"I shouldn't be doing this," he whispers hoarsely, his voice raspy with desire. Despite his words, he continues to stroke himself, drawing circles around the head of his penis.
His gaze lingers on your face, searching for understanding or forgiveness. The lines of anxiety etched into his own face soften slightly as he watches you sleep, oblivious to the turmoil unfolding next to you.
"But I can't... I can't stop." He murmurs, speeding up the pace of his movements.
Unable to resist any longer, Shiu climbs onto the bed, positioning himself above you. He rubs the tip of his erection with your cheek, the moisture from earlier creating a slick surface on it.
As he presses down, your lips part involuntarily, the head of his penis slipping past them effortlessly. You adjust instinctively, your tongue darting out to taste him. It's an erotic dance of sorts, with both of you responding to primal urges without conscious thought.
His hips rock slowly, guiding you around his body. The sensation is foreign yet exhilarating; he can feel your warm mouth engulfing him inch by inch. He winces slightly, a low groan escaping him.
Despite his efforts to remain silent, the sound reverberates throughout the room, filling the space with a heavy silence. He stares at the ceiling, his heart pounding wildly, desperate not to wake you.
Your sleeping form moves unconsciously, your throat bobbing over its shaft as you continue to explore its length. His grip tightens reflexively, your actions pushing him closer to release.
"Oh God..." he breathes out, his breath ragged.
The intensity builds, and without realising it, he begins thrusting into your waiting mouth, moving faster and harder. His moans become louder, no longer containing the growing passion within him.
Despite his efforts to be discreet, the sounds carry across the room. They're uneven, bordering on frantic, painting a picture of unrestrained desire.
In the midst of it all, you finally wake up from your sleep. Your eyes flutter open, blinking rapidly in the dim light. The scene before you is shocking, but it doesn't deter you. Instead, you wrap your lips more firmly around him, sucking harder.
He jolts upright, eyes flying open wide, when he registers your consciousness. He freezes momentarily before resuming his erratic thrusts. Apologies echo softly in your ear, muffled by your actions. In spite of everything, you continue to serve him, your teeth grazing his shaft gently.
His apologies dissolve into pleas as he grasps your hair, tugging lightly. "Daddy needs your warm mouth so bad. Please forgive me." His words are thick with emotion, betraying the turmoil within him.
Your sleepy eyes flutter again, meeting his pleading ones. Your slow, drowsy movements were replaced by increased suction, setting a rhythm that matches his movement.
He releases it into your mouth suddenly, cum spilling hot and thick into your throat. A strangled cry escapes him, his entire body shaking with release. As he comes down from the high, he pulls out of your mouth, giving you time to adjust.
Gently, he scoops you into his arms, cradling you tightly against his chest. His heart pounds heavily in his chest, guilt and gratitude battling for dominance.
"I'm... I'm so sorry," he mumbles, closing his eyes tightly. "Thank you, Y/N." His words are mumbled into your hair, an admission of relief and regret.
You hug him tightly, whispering "It's okay. No problem" into his shirt. His scent surrounds you, grounding you in the surreal experience.
As the adrenaline fades, he drifts off to sleep, holding you close. For now, at least, everything seems to fall into place.
◈ HIGURUMA HIROMI
Hiromi spends long hours at work, tirelessly chasing justice for his clients. He's known for taking on challenging cases others might deem hopeless, often putting in extra hours to ensure he leaves no stone unturned in his pursuit of truth. As a result, he rarely has time to spare for anything else, leaving little room for leisure or relaxation.
When he isn't in court or meeting with clients, he's buried in mountains of paperwork, pouring over every detail meticulously. Even at home, you often find him poring over files or discussing strategy with colleagues late into the night. His dedication to his profession knows no bounds, and it shows in the relentless pace he maintains daily.
Thus, instead of finding his little girl sleeping in her room, he arrives home to find her curled up on his bed. What could you do? You missed him so much; it's like you rarely get to see him.
"You shouldn't be here," he repeats, his voice low but firm. A mix of worry and disapproval fills his eyes as he gazes down at you. "Why aren't you in your own room?"
His fingers brush gently against your cheek, the touch surprisingly tender despite the seriousness of his tone. He seems concerned for your safety and comfort, wondering why you chose to sleep here instead of your own room. His brow furrows further in confusion and concern.
You shift slightly, reaching out in your sleep and grasping his hand, pulling it closer to your breasts. The words "please stay with me" escape your lips, soft and uncertain. Your action catches him off guard, and for a moment, he stands frozen, his heart pounding loudly in his ears.
His eyes flicker between your face and his hand, now resting lightly upon your breast. This unexpected contact sends a wave of heat rushing through him, confusion mingling with arousal. He tries to process the sudden shift in dynamics between the two of you.
Very slowly, he removes his hand from your breast, feeling each curve beneath his palm before reluctantly withdrawing it. His gaze lingers on your face, turbulent with a myriad of complex emotions - part protectiveness, part confusion, and undeniably lust.
"My sweet girl..." he murmurs, running a hand through your hair, "I am here now.."
Hiromi hesitates, then carefully lies down beside you, wrapping his arms around you gently. Despite the shock of your actions, he can't deny the vulnerability in your request for his presence. His heart rate slows as he holds you, feeling your warm breath against his chest.
For several minutes, he simply lies there, stroking your hair and whispering soothing words into your ear. Then, he starts kissing your cheeks, then your neck, providing comfort through touch and warmth. Each kiss is deliberate and slow, filled with affection and care
As his lips trace along your skin, you feel a surge of warmth spreading across your body. You cling tighter to him, not wanting him to leave.
Hiromi pauses, his lips hovering above your collarbone. "I am here, don't worry" he promises softly, his voice husky with unspoken desire.
With careful fingers, he lifts one of your legs and places it across his hips, using the other hand to massage your calf gently. As he works his way up, he notices the dampness of your shorts, the fabric clinging to your thigh. His heart skips a beat, and he freezes mid-stroke.
Swallowing hard, he leans closer to your ear, his voice barely audible. "Why...are you wet, sweetheart?" His tone is cautious, a mix of curiosity and concern. He's unsure how to interpret this new development, but the tenderness in his voice remains unchanged. He's still trying to provide comfort, yet his mind races with questions and uncertainty.
"Is everything okay?" he asks softly, his fingers tracing delicate circles on your inner thigh, hesitant yet unable to resist touching you. He needs answers, but more importantly, he needs to make sure you're safe.
Your silence hangs heavy in the room, the weight of the situation palpable between you both.
In response to your silent plea, you scoot closer to him, pressing your damp core against his half-hard dick. The friction is deliberate, seeking relief or perhaps some form of comfort. As you move against him, he starts to stiffen, feeling your insistence through his clothing. The friction ignites a fire within him, the sensation sending waves of pleasure coursing through his body. His breath hitches, and he grips your waist tightly, struggling to contain his reaction.
His mind swirls with conflicting thoughts - desire, confusion, guilt. This unexpected turn of events leaves him speechless, torn between stopping you and giving in to his primal urges.
Despite the unexpected turn of events, he doesn't push you away. Instead, he wraps his arm around you more tightly, guiding your movement subtly, matching your rhythm.
Hiromi's voice is hoarse when he speaks, his words thick with emotion. "Are you...in heat?"
Hiromi's question hangs in the air, heavy with implications. In response, you hum softly in your sleep, the sound both affirmative and inviting. It confuses and excites him simultaneously.
With a deep breath, he reaches for your shorts, slowly peeling them down along with your panties. Your wet core is exposed to the cool air, glistening under the faint light. He stares at it for a moment, conflicted but undeniably turned on.
With trembling hands, he pulls you closer, his tongue darting out to lick at your clit. The salty taste of your arousal electrifies him, and he groans quietly against you.
As he continues to pleasure you, you moan sleepily, bucking your hips for more friction. His movements become more confident, his tongue exploring every inch of your swollen flesh. He watches your reactions closely, amazed by the powerful effect his touches seem to have on you.
"Oh god, Y/N..." he breathes out, his voice thick with desire. "You're so wet..."
His fingers dig into your hips as he continues his tongue invasion, your moans growing louder with each pass of his tongue. He can't believe how responsive you are while you are sleeping, your body arching beneath him willingly.
Hiromi's brings his fingers to your folds, his fingers slide effortlessly into your wet heat, causing your eyes to flutter open in surprise. You gasp softly, your muscles clenching around his digits as he pushes deeper.
He smiles to himself, his fingers curling upward to stroke the front wall of your pussy. You let out a sleepy moan, your hips rocking instinctively against his hand.
Without hesitation, he withdraws his fingers, bringing them to his pants to lubricate his already-erect shaft. The motion is swift and efficient, his eyes never leaving clenching hole as he frees his hardness.
Hiromi plunges his tongue into your hole, his strokes becoming more urgent as he stimulates both your pussy and himself. The sensations are overwhelming, and you moan softly, your eyes half-opening to meet his gaze.
Hiromi's eyes lock onto yours, his pupils dilated with desire. He's mesmerized by your sleepy, aroused state, his fingers tightening around his shaft as he continues to pleasure you. The sight of you, responding to his touch like this is both thrilling and confusing, but he can't seem to stop.
Your hand wraps around his hair, gently pulling his head closer to your center. The pressure forces his nose against your clit, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. Your breathing becomes labored, your moans growing louder as you rock your hips against his face.
Hiromi's eyes flutter closed, his nostrils flaring as he inhales deeply, drinking in your scent. He's completely absorbed in the moment, his senses overwhelmed by the intimacy of the act. His fingers continue to stroke his erection, his movements becoming more frenzied as he chases your release.
His tongue darts out, tasting the sweet nectar of your arousal. He sucks gently on your clit, his fingers pumping his erection in time with the motions of his mouth. The combination of sensations is intoxicating, and you feel yourself teetering on the edge of climax.
The pressure builds to a crescendo, and you shatter around his tongue, crying out in ecstasy. Your walls contract, trying milking his tongue for every last drop of pleasure. He licks and suckles, coaxing out every last tremor from your climax.
As you ride the aftershocks, he brings his cock closer, rubbing the tip against your still-sensitive clit. He moans loudly, his hips jerking in response to the stimulation. The sensation is too much for him to handle, and he releases on your thighs, coating your skin with his seed. The pleasure is intense and sharper than any legal victory he's ever experienced.
After his release, Hiromi takes a few deep breaths, his body trembling with exhaustion. He collapses next to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your head.
◈ CHOSO KAMO
The sound of moans and the mention of his name stop Choso in his tracks like a bullet hitting a target. His heart races and his breath hitches. Is this real? Could it really be you, making those sweet noises?
He slowly moves closer to the door, trying to listen better. The sound comes again, "Choso.. mhm- daddy." it seems softer this time, almost like you need him. His cock grows hard in response, throbbing painfully against his pants. He's never thought of you this way before, but now the image of you, pleasuring yourself while calling out his name, is burned into his mind. His dick twitches in his pants, straining against the fabric. He looks down, seeing a wet spot forming there.
"This isn't right, you're not supposed to want your stepdaughter like this." But the taboo nature of it only makes the desire grow stronger. Slowly, he reaches down and adjusts himself through his pants, trying to ease the pressure building up.
Choso hesitates at the door, frozen like a deer caught in headlights. This wasn't how things were supposed to go. You're asleep, peaceful and innocent looking. Your cheeks are flushed against the pillow, and another pillow is nestled between your thighs, mimicking the motion of being fucked moving gently as you make soft, sleepy moans.
With a deep breath, he steps into the room, shutting the door gently behind him. He approaches your bed, looking down at you as you sleep. The sight of you, even in sleep, is arousing. Your face squeezed on to the pillow, those soft moans escaping from your lips. He feels like he shouldn't be here, watching you, but he can't help it. As much as he tries to fight it, he can't deny his curiosity.
"I am here baby, do you need anything?," Choso asks quietly, his voice barely audible.
His eyes trace over your form, taking in the sight of you. The gentle rise and fall of your chest, the way your thighs clamp around the pillow. He swallows thickly, feeling the heat rush to his face. He should leave, shouldn't he? But he can't seem to tear his gaze away from you.
"Hey.. Is everything alright?" he asks again, his voice barely above a whisper. He wants to reach out, to touch you, to make sure you're alright. But he knows that would be wrong. Still, he can't stop himself from reaching out, lightly brushing a stray lock of hair from your face.
You reply in your drowsy state ,"N-need Cho daddy so bad", Choso's breath catches in his throat. He had heard you correctly. You need him, Daddy, so bad. Heat floods his cheeks, but he can't look away. You move restlessly in your sleep, your legs shifting apart slightly. His eyes follow the movement, catching sight of your dampened panties.
He swallows hard, his voice rough as he asks, "Do you need my help with this?"
Your response is a soft hum, and he sees your lips part slightly. You're so vulnerable, so exposed in your slumber. Choso's hand trembles as he reaches out, gently pulling your panties down, revealing your glistening slit. He takes a moment to admire the sight, the wetness glistening in the moonlight filtering through the window. His cock throbs painfully at the sight, aching to be inside you.
"Baby, do you want me to help you feel better?" he whispers, his voice shaking. He knows this is wrong, but he can't resist the temptation any longer.
Slowly, Choso slides his finger into you, marveling at how tight and wet you are. He can't believe this is happening. You're so responsive, even in your sleep. He pulls back his finger, coated in your wetness, and brings it to his mouth. Tasting you sends a thrill through him.
Undressing hastily, he discards his pants and boxers, revealing his erection. It's throbbing, desperate for release. He positions himself above you and gently circles your clit, eliciting a soft moan from your lips. Your eyes start to open, but you're still lost in the haze of sleepiness. You nuzzle your face into the pillow, a soft whimper escaping you as he begins to thrust into you.
"Shhh, it's okay, baby," he murmurs, trying to calm you. "Just enjoy it. Let me take care of you."
Your eyes focus on him, wide with confusion and desire. "Daddy..." you mumble, not quite understanding what's happening.
"It's okay, just relax," he says, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. "I'm going to make you feel good."
He continues to thrust into you slowly, gently at first, letting your body adjust to him. Your moans become louder, more distinct, as he increases the pace. You arch your back, meeting his thrusts, your hands gripping the sheets tightly.
As he fucks you, you start to come alive. Your hips buck against him, urging him deeper. You're so responsive, so eager. He can tell you're close, your breaths quickening, your nails digging into the sheets.
"That's it, baby," he whispers, his voice ragged. "Let go for me."
You let out a cry, your orgasm washing over you. Your inner walls clench around him, milking him as you climax. Choso groans, unable to hold back anymore, he quickly pulls out of you, watching as you collapse back onto the bed, gasping for air. He can't wait any longer; his release is imminent. He strokes himself a few times, aiming for your back.
A hot stream of cum lands on your skin, followed by another. He keeps cumming, covering your back in his seed. His breath hitches as he finishes, collapsing next to you. His heart pounds in his chest, his breaths shallow.
"Sorry, I'm sorry," he mutters continuously.
You turn to face him, your eyes full of gratitude. "Thank you, Daddy," you say softly, reaching out to touch his face. "That felt so good."
Without waiting for a response, you wrap your arms around him, pulling him close. He protests weakly, but he doesn't struggle. You snuggle against him, feeling his heartbeat under your ear.
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kenntolog · 30 days
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an: heh it was very cute to write i hope you like it!! read more here!!
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cool boyfriend sukuna buys his loser girlfriend a rich berry red lipstick <33
you don't even understand where that came from, looking at the small package with a confused face before you look up at sukuna for answers.
"i thought it'd suit you so I bought it." he says with a small smirk, gazing down at you with a fondness in his eyes. "put it on, c'mon."
as you carefully apply the lipstick, you can't help but think about how thoughtful sukuna must've been when choosing because it suits you very well. the smile hiding in the quivering corners of your lips just proves that it makes you feel flattered and very happy to be considered by your boyfriend.
he's very impatient though, rushing you and hanging over your head as he watches you glide the lipstick over the plushness of your lips like a kid would watch a cartoon with zero understanding of what is happening on the screen. you finish and put away your phone you used as a mirror, turning to face him with a shy, nervous look.
sukuna stares at you blankly for a few seconds before his hands gently tug off his your hoodie, leaving you only in a small top with thin straps. after that, he threads his fingers through your hair and tousles it around before stopping at a side-part. finally, one of his palms cups your cheek and his thumb wipes off some excess lipstick from your bottom lip, smudging it unintentionally.
his eyes are very appreciative after that, you observe as you wait for him to say something with a baited breath. his fingers get lost in his own hair aas he pulls at it slightly, his expression softening momentarily as his smirk stretches further.
"look at you, loser," sukuna tucks a strand of hair behind your ear before grabbing you jaw and shaking your head from side to side as you whine, "aren't you just the prettiest girl, hm?"
you cover your face with your hands, falling backwards on the bed as you try to suppress the wide smile spreading on your lips. no matter how many times he tells you that you are the most beautiful girl in the whole world you will always have your cheeks hurting afterwards from the happiest smile with shyness rooted in it and your heartbeat spiking up to abnormal speed.
he crawls to hang on top of you, hands on both sides of your head as he smirks down at you.
"now kiss me."
"huh?"
"here," he points to his collarbone.
you look at him unsurely, "it'll leave a stain tho, 'kuna~"
"'s the point. go on."
you lean in and plant a smooch on the spot, right above the neckline of his tee. something inside of you ignites at the sight of it; you know that no one will see him in this state and it makes you feel whole, how you can have him all to yourself. the fire inside of you must reflect in your eyes because sukuna can sense the way you feel too easily as he points at his neck now.
"here too."
you happily oblige, going as far as covering most of his neck with stains. it even gets to the point where sukuna clumsily reapplies your lipstick for you, shushing down your giggles and cursing you for getting in the way of his work with your sweet smile. you kiss his jaw, his cheeks, his nose, his temples, his forehead, between his brows, his chin — anywhere, but his lips, which prompts him to cup your jaw and seal your lips together.
you can never get used to his kisses; always so passionate because sukuna puts his everything into making your mind go blank, and it's never easy to match the pace he sets although you're always eager to try. so sweet, so full of love and lust, it's one of the best feelings for you: his devilish mouth excited to explore each and every cavern of yours.
"you missed here, baby," he mumbles into your mouth and you pull away, both of you panting heatedly.
"sorry, 'kuna."
"you can make it up to me, don't worry."
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slvttyplum · 30 days
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having sex with toji made you shy, to the point where you were covering up your face and moans, trying not to embarrass yourself, and clenching up from his every touch. toji didn't like that; he liked when you got out of control, where you were clinging onto him and telling him what pace to go, how to do something, and where to touch you, your loud moans slipping through the cracks of your bedroom door.
he wanted that and more. he didn't want you to cover your beautiful face and try to suppress your moans; it made him feel weird, like he was having sex with the mattress beneath him. he wanted you to be loud and tell him what to do, so in order for you to do that, he would put you on top so that you had no choice but to take control and not cover up your face. 
as much as he wanted to take control and slam his hips into you and push into your sweet spot to the point you're clinging and squirting on his dick, he just couldn't bear to be shy while he was beating your pussy in; it wasn't ideal for him, so this is all he could do: have you take control.
it obviously worked because once your hips got rolling and your hands were sat on top of his chest, there was no stopping you; all you needed was a little bit of motivation and his dick poking your sweet spot repeatedly for you to finally give up the shy girl act.
he knew that once you got on top, there was no stopping you, your ass bouncing on top of him while you moaned in his ear and blabbered in his ear about how good you felt. you would get so high on pleasure that drool was falling out, and you were saying all kinds of shit and didn't recall anything the next day. 
he saw the potential you had whenever you were on top of him, bouncing on his dick with no plans of stopping, so he wanted you to keep going so that you wouldn't be covering up your face while he dug you out. taking your hands and putting them above you as he kissed you, his tongue filling your mouth, low moans sliding into his mouth making him smile, only making his dick fill out your pussy more. 
"keep going, baby; there you go." watching how you slid up and down on his dick while your head was hanging back and one of your hands on his chest lightly pressing down as you lifted your hips and the other rubbing over your breast lightly grazing over your nipples. the pleasure was so overwhelming that covering your face or suppressing your moans were out of the question; you had no choice but to moan and throw your head back. 
once toji realized just what he had to do to make you not cover up your face or hold in your moans, he would just turn around and put you on top of him and push his hips into you, so that he would get control again while there was no place for you to run or cover your face up. when you were on top, it was easier for his dick to poke your sweet spot back and forth with no breaks, so the pleasure was more overwhelming.
as much as you wanted to freeze up and hide your face, you just couldn't; the overall hold his dick had on you was too much for you to ignore or try to push off. your body knew what you really wanted, what you craved and ached for, and what had your pussy clenching around him to orgasm.
both your body and toji worked together to betray you, but god, did you thank them for this? when you were covering up your face and moaning, you couldn't focus on the pleasure. you were so worried about covering up everything that you didn't have time to submerge yourself in the pleasure toji was giving you, and he couldn't have that.
once he started having you on top of him, the habit of covering yourself up along with your moans faded away. he could flip you in all kinds of positions and have you begging for more. toji made sure he saw your every expression when he was inside of you.
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earthtooz · 9 months
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x : NOT JEALOUS ! :*+゚
in which: alhaitham isn't jealous, he doesn't get jealous, so what is this suffocating feeling in his chest that only happens when you're talking to another man that isn't him?
warnings: 5.4k words, jealous!alhaitham x gn!reader who has loads of rizz, university!au, fluff with angst but happy ending, pining!alhaitham who doesn't realise that he loves you, kaveh is there, mention of cyno, ooc at some bits?, swearing, alhaitham is a little bit of an asshole at some parts sawry. he's bad with feelings.
a/n: inspired by @danijaci's jealous jealous boy comic with alhaitham! hi dani if you're reading this pls don't perceive me... hides... but i hope you all like it :,)
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Alhaitham isn’t jealous. 
The uncomfortable feeling obstructing itself in his throat is just because he’s beginning to develop a sore throat- that’s all. It is flu season after all, who knows what kind of bacteria are in the air? Ones capable of lathing an uncomfortable oil that burns inside his chest, the smog crowding its way into his heart, sickening him to his core as Alhaitham can’t help but eavesdrop on the conversation happening beside him.
“I’m free friday,” a voice besides you confirms.
“Okay!” you cheer, sounding a little too happy for Alhaitham’s liking. After all, it’s 9 am, who has this much energy in the morning? “lets do Friday then!”
“Sounds good, I’ll see you then. Bye Y/n.”
“Bye, see you!” Alhaitham watches from the corner of his eye as you wave to the random stranger you’ve decided to associate yourself with before finally taking the seat beside him with a sigh. 
He doesn’t say anything to you, feeling your eyes glance at him expectantly as he stares stubbornly at the lecture board instead of acknowledging you or the jumble of feelings clogging up his diaphragm. 
“Hello, you,” You lean over slightly, careful to not invade his personal space whilst waving at him, hoping to catch his attention. He glances at you, nodding in greeting before returning to his book, the pages and rows of words only fuelling his unease he suddenly felt. He doesn’t even know where he left off, the book’s events a blur in Alhaitham’s mind.
How bothersome. What’s happening to him?
“Talkative today, aren’t you?” Your tone is playful despite his cold attitude and Alhaitham sneaks another look in your direction, noting the way your lips curve upwards. “So, how are you?” 
“I’m fine,” he murmurs, inserting a bookmark between the pages before slamming it shut, an indicator that you could keep conversing with him.
“Cool.” You tap your nails on the desks of the lecture hall. “Oh, I finished my essay the other day.”
“The one for your elective?”
You hum in agreement, “I hope I never get it back. Submitted it ten minutes before the due date.”
“You know you wouldn’t have been stressed over it if you just started it earlier-”
“I know, I know,” you huff, “spare your productivity lectures for another time, I’ll be needing them later in the semester.” The grey-haired shakes his head as you laugh, but his gaze returns to the front cover of his book as he solemnly thinks about the interaction you had with another man, right in front of him. 
(What right did he have to see you smiling so earnestly like that?)
“Who was that?” Alhaitham coughs out, barely choking down his pride in time to make space for the question.
You murmur some guy’s name that he doesn’t bother to remember. “He’s a friend of mine in the same discussion group for this course and we decided to do the assignment together. He bumped into me on the way in so we were just planning when to meet to do the research.”
“Oh.” Your answer doesn’t calm the churning in Alhaitham’s gut. Not even one bit, in fact, it makes it worse. 
But it’s not jealousy, Alhaitham doesn’t get jealous because he’s above petty feelings of inadequacy. He’s merely concerned for you, worried for your brainpower by the end of the project because your partner seems less-than-incompetent. If you’d picked someone like Alhaitham (or better yet, just picked Alhaitham), you would’ve aced the class without even blinking an eye. 
(The two of you are friends, so why didn’t you pick him? It’s literally been proven that the two of you are compatible working together since you were both executives of Sumeru’s Cultural Society, and amidst all of the activities the club has run, you’ve collaborated many times to make each event run flawlessly. So why not him? Why would you pick another man over him?)
“You know you could have picked me, I wouldn’t mind working on the assignment with you,” he grumbles, words soft but very clear.
Alhaitham misses the way your eyes widen in shock as apologies scramble out of your mouth. “I’m sorry! I automatically assumed that you wanted to work on it by yourself. Next time I’ll ask you.” 
The lecture begins before he could say anything in return and like a robot, he sets his thoughts aside and begins listening, notes document up and cursor blinking at the ready.
A mundane two hours pass by, one powerpoint slide after powerpoint slide before the lecture is finally over, much to your pleasure. Alhaitham notices the way you eagerly jump out of your seat to stretch, grabbing your bag. On the other hand, your grey-haired accomplice takes his time in packing up, forcing you to wait for him.
“Would you like to get some coffee before the meeting?” You ask.
“Sure, we can find a seat there and join it together,” he adds and you beam at him, expression bright and so enchanting that it makes him forget about all the perplexities he felt before the lecture. 
The two of you make your way to one of the many campus cafés where you practically wrestled Alhaitham to stop him from paying for both your orders (losing in the end) before sitting at a booth, your laptop set up with a pair of Alhaitham’s earphones shared between you. The meeting begins to fill up with almost all committee members, even Kaveh, who resides in his room of his and Alhaitham’s shared flat. Upon noticing him, you go to text him, with the grey-haired peeking over your shoulder from time to time to see your conversation- not that he cares that much.
(Perhaps if Kaveh glanced up from his phone, then he’d see how close Alhaitham had gotten with you, breaching the distance that he prefers to keep around others. He’d also notice the headphone sharing despite how he generally tends to keep them out of anyone else’s hands.)
You’re tasked with the role of taking notes for the meeting since Alhaitham, in your opinion, is not at all a reliable scribe. His notes tend to just include vital information and never what everyone else needs to know, yet each time you scold him for it, his unbothered expression never falters, waving your complaints off with a shrug. 
“Hey, Kaveh and I are going to go for lunch tomorrow after our classes. Care to join?” You ask, smiling at him hopefully as your messages with Kaveh sit open on your screen. Alhaitham doesn’t think twice before agreeing. 
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
“It looks like it’s about to rain,” you murmur, pulling out a chair as Alhaitham and Kaveh take their seats opposite you. 
“So it does,” Alhaitham notes, not caring to look too long out the window before returning his gaze to you. “You have an umbrella, right?”
“I, uh, didn’t think I needed one today.”
“Do you not check the weather before you leave?”
“Not everyone’s like you, Alhaitham.” Kaveh teases. “It’s no problem, Y/n, if it rains I can walk you back to your dorm.”
“Only if you are okay with it,” you insist, “I have no problem walking home in the rain. I love the rain.”
Alhaitham intervenes with a raise of his hand. “Nonsense, you’ll catch a cold. We’ll walk you home.”
A soft but genuine ‘thank you’ slips from your lips, neither of you wiser to the way Kaveh eyes his roommate suspiciously, not missing the use of ‘we’ in his sentence and the implications the collective pronoun has. For it meant that Alhaitham is willing to take precious time out of his day to perform an act for someone that he is not indebted to do. Not that Alhaitham is inherently selfish, per se, but he is a man of routine. He wakes up every morning and takes five minutes to scribble on his stupid whiteboard in the kitchen what he has to do for the day and strictly abides by it, not even straying two minutes off schedule.
Willingly volunteering his minutes? Kaveh finds that suspicious. 
“So, how’s your architecture assignment, Kaveh?” You ask, breaking the blond from his daze whilst Alhaitham pours glasses of water for the table, starting with your cup. 
“A nightmare,” he sighs, sinking into his chair. “I still have so much to do, you know my professor didn’t like my blueprint? How ridiculous! I hope that man steps in a puddle and wets his sock.”
The grey-haired pipes up with a remark. “I can’t wait for it to be done, our living room is a mess right now.” 
“Hey, I am the one that cleans that living room, thank you very much. Your bookshelf is still a mess even though I’ve asked you to clean it five times.”
“If it bothers you so much then why don’t you do it yourself?”
“I’m the only one who-”
“-I’m going to go to the bathroom,” you murmur, cutting the conversation before shuffling out of your chair, seemingly eager to do so.
Kaveh turns to the grey-haired again, “and you just scared away Y/n.”
“Sorry no one wants to hear about your architecture project.”
“Y/n literally asked, asshole.”
A rebuttal sits on the tip of Alhaitham’s tongue- as it always does when it comes to bickering with his roommate, but it dies out when an intruder comes to the table. “Excuse me, I hate to interrupt,” he begins, “but the person who just got up, is that your friend?”
“Yeah, why do you ask?”
“Oh, I just wanted to drop this off, mind passing it over for me?” The piece of paper he was holding lands in Kaveh’s hand. “Thanks, bro.” Is all he says before strolling away, out of sight but definitely not out of mind.
The blond does not hesitate to open it up, chuckling in amusement when reading the content. “’Hey you’re cute, here’s my number’ it says. What a bitch! You didn’t like his vibes either, right, Alhaitham?”
“Hold on, what does the note say?”
Grabbing (snatching) it from Kaveh, the grey-haired has half a mind to rip the note apart, a certain sense of distaste washing over him that intensifies the long he stares at the guy’s handwriting. His eye is twitching. Why is his eye twitching?
“Hey!” He hears Kaveh call. “Don’t scrunch it, that’s Y/n’s-“
Alhaitham stuffs the ball of paper into his bag where he’ll recycle it later even though something irrational within him tells him to burn it. “Y/n won’t miss it. You said it yourself, he’s a bitch.”
“Sure, but why are you doing-“
“Hey!” You interrupt, sliding back into your chair with a grin on your face. “So, what did I miss?”
“Nothing,” the grey-haired murmurs, assuming his crossed-arm position. Kaveh side eyes his roommate before agreeing with a hum. “Let’s order something now. We want to beat the rain, right?”
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
This meeting for the Sumeru Society might have been one of the most important ones of the year thus far, with almost every committee member expected to attend. After all, the annual ball was a big event that always had the largest turnout, and the amount of planning that goes into it to ensure its success is almost triple that of its other events.
So why weren’t you here?
“Why did you leave the meeting early on Friday?” Alhaitham asks as soon as he sees you.
You pause briefly, eyes widening and eyebrows raising. It must have been the way that Alhaitham’s voice raised a pitch towards the end of the question, demonstrating a nervous break in character that was not at all typical. Cool and collected would be the defining words to describe Alhaitham, as well as someone who does not care for the menial activities of others, so what is he doing asking you? And why does he care so much?
“I, uh, had dinner with someone,” you confess, continuing to grab your books and laptop, missing the way his features contort into something un-cool, and very un-Alhaitham.
“Whom?”
You murmur the name of some other guy, who he vaguely recalls to be your project partner.
“What?” Alhaitham snaps.
“I didn’t think missing out on some of the meeting would be a big deal! I got another committee member to explain what I missed,” you justified. “Besides, there’s no big events going on right now, so I thought-”
“-That you could abandon your tasks and go have fun with someone else?”
Alhaitham’s not really sure why he said that. He’s not angry that you skipped a meeting; there are larger things in the world to worry about, he’s angry because you spent time with another guy that wasn’t him.Why not go to dinner with him instead? He spends it every night with Kaveh, and you are far more favourable than Kaveh.  
“Is it really something to get mad over? I already told you, I got the meeting notes and everything-”
“-You’re an executive of the society, Y/n, more is expected from you.”
“Seriously?” you ask, “how come you didn’t bat an eye when the vice president wasn’t there the other day?”
“Because she was sick.” 
“Okay, fine! what about the subcommittee? they’re not always there either!” 
“They’re subcom. Whether they miss a meeting or not is not crucial.”
“So, it’s just my business that you care about?” You ask, eyebrows furrowed, disbelief clouding over your expression like a mask.
Again, Alhaitham doesn’t know where these punches are coming from and why he’s throwing them against you so viciously, but his heart is tightening defensively with a burning emotion that he’s been feeling more and more recently, and his first instinct is to lash out, to protect himself from it.
Perhaps it’s because foreign things that he can’t understand terrify him and you, all you ever do is make him feel things that he’s never felt before and he can’t understand why. 
“You’re not that special.”
A flash of hurt gleams in your eyes and Alhaitham knows now that he’s royally fucked up. “You’re an ass,” you grumble, about to walk away when he intercepts.
“Listen to me!”
“Fuck off!” 
“Y/n-”
You’re gone before he can get another word out, retreating figure stomping away whilst his chest weaves into knots; something that no amount of deep breathing can calm. It doesn’t help that the minute he returns home, Kaveh is onto him like some sort of parasite, curious over the tense air surrounding his normally-composed roommate. 
“Hey, welcome home- whoa, what’s gotten into you?” The blond asks.
“None of your business,” Alhaitham grumbles through gritted teeth, taking his shoes off and throwing them aside haphazardly. Kaveh doesn’t miss the way Alhaitham’s jaw is clenched, or the strain in his hand when he brings up a hand to run through his hair, or the very subtle and minute twitch in his cheek.
The blond ignores all signs that he wants to be left alone, and instead, follows the grey-haired to his room after he swung the door open. 
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on, let’s talk about this-”
“Talk about what?” Alhaitham growls.
“Who pissed in your black coffee today?” 
“No one. Now get lost.” 
“Aw, come on, you know what they say. Getting things off your chest is always beneficial.”
“There’s nothing on my chest, go away.”
“You sure? no stress, no deadlines, no love interest making you tear your hair out-”
“-No, no, none of those!”
“Then what?”
Alhaitham steadies himself by resting his elbows on his thighs, hands clasped together as he exhales loudly. “I got pissed and took it out on Y/n, who’s mad at me now.”
“Huh? Why so annoyed?”
“Because Y/n went to dinner with another man.”
It’s silent for a while. The sassy quip that he expects from Kaveh does not happen. Instead, the blond merely smiles, a satisfied, knowing grin that slightly irks him. “You know, I’ve been waiting for the day you realise you have feelings for Y/n.” 
“What? Where did you get that conclusion from?” Alhaitham sits up straighter. There are a lot of things he knows, and he knows for sure that he does not like you in any way beyond platonic. He doesn’t have any time to spare for love. There are scholarships he still needs to apply for, internships to be interviewed for, research projects to submit- nowhere amongst the minute hand of the clock is there space for love. 
“Oh come on,” Kaveh sits down on the bed beside his roommate, leaning back on his hands. “You’re not as smooth as you hope to be sometimes.”
“I’m serious, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Y’know the sooner you accept you have feelings for Y/n, the easier life will be.”
“Life is already easy and there is no sooner because I don’t like Y/n like that. Now get lost. I have stuff I need to finish.”
Kaveh shrugs, standing up with a soft ‘suit yourself’, taking seven steps before he’s out of the room. Alhaitham lets out a sigh that has lodged itself in his throat for too long, and the feeling of reprieve he gets is short-lived before he’s flooded with a certain tightness again. Maybe he did have a weight on his chest after all, not that he’d ever admit it to himself or Kaveh.
He gets up from his made bed with a grunt and decides to push aside all distractions. Time is unforgiving, and if doesn’t finish his assignment by this Friday then he’ll be a little less than pleased.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Alhaitham feels like he can’t breathe. 
You’re sitting alone at a library desk, all focused and concentrated on your laptop screen with your headphones on, blocking out any outside voice as you type away. He wonders if he should say hi, maybe try apologising for the way he acted last Monday- who is this guy that’s approaching you and why does he look so familiar? 
And why are you smiling so happily?
You beckon to the seat beside you and the guy readily complies, taking the chair beside you like he belonged there, like there weren’t other candidates that should be there instead (he’s not talking about himself. definitely not).
He hands you one of two coffee cups he’s holding. What kind of right does this guy have to give you a coffee? Does he even know your order?
He feels like a bit of creep keenly watching you interact with someone else from a balcony of the library, but the book and laptop in front of him lies forgotten, and in a rare moment of weakness, Alhaitham can’t find it in himself to return to his tasks, pursuit of knowledge momentarily forgotten. He can’t push aside the bile that threatens to rise, he can’t loosen his grip on the couch’s armrest, and he can’t blink for a second in fear of losing you from his sight.
(You’re laughing. Why are you laughing? How can you look so pretty laughing and why doesn’t he ever get to make you laugh like this?)
Alhaitham is losing his damn mind. So much so that the first thing he does when he sees you again is corner you. 
“You shouldn’t talk to that guy anymore.”
You’re backed against the brick walls of the time-worn building that your shared lecture always takes place in, and Alhaitham, spotting you like a hawk, put you in this precarious position as soon as the two hours were over. 
He can’t breathe. It’s been almost three weeks since you last spoke to him and you’re staring up at him like you’ve done nothing wrong, blinking once and twice at his uncharacteristic display of subtle aggression. 
“Who?” you mutter, shaking your head to try and grasp reality once again. you hug your laptop closer to your body. “What’s this about?”
“I said you shouldn’t talk to that guy anymore.” 
“What guy?” 
“Your project partner.”
“Really?” you mutter in disbelief.
He nods, teal eyes shining at you firmly. “Really. The project’s over, you don’t need to talk to him anymore.” 
“I don’t recall ever giving you the right to dictate who gets to be in my life or not, just like how you can’t tell me what to do with my time.” 
“I’m looking out for you, so stop trying to make me sound tyrannical.” 
Your mouth hangs open as you furrow your eyebrows, growing more and more frustrated with each second. So much for thinking that he wanted to resolve the awkwardness between the two of you. “I’m not even going to argue with you,” you murmur a quick ‘jerk’ under your breath before brushing past him. 
Alhaitham, however, is not willing to let you go as easily as you wish, quick to chase after you. Not that you go far anyways, turning around to face him again in the spaciousness of the vacant hallway. “Why do you care?” You ask, exasperated. “You’re Alhaitham, you don’t let trivial things like who I hangout with bother you, you’re cool and collected and rational, and I just don’t understand why you’re acting like this.”
He doesn’t understand either, not the erratic beating of his heart, the stubbornness of his mind, nor this undisputable urge to keep you all to himself. Is it normal to want to hide someone for selfish reasons?
Trailing off, Alhaitham is slightly humiliated that for the first time in his life, someone has witnessed him coming short of an answer. No logical conclusion, no explanation, not even a satisfying quip, just plain, suffocating silence.
“Right. When you do have an answer, let me know.” You walk away.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Your last rebuttal still weighs heavily on Alhaitham’s mind, even two days later as he and Kaveh are seated for a lecture in a shared course. His thoughts are scrambled like never before, the messiness of it all making him feel uneasy because for once, he doesn’t have an appropriate answer to a question.
Why was he acting like a temperamental teenager? What you did with your life was up to you, and indeed he has no right trying to change that. More importantly, why was it so hard to apologise for the stuff he said-
“So, how’s everything between you and Y/n?” 
Kaveh turns to him with widened eyes whilst Alhaitham’s poker face doesn’t move an inch, deceivingly apathetic.
“Good, we’ve been hanging out a lot more recently,” the other guy says, who Alhaitham quickly recognises to be your project partner and distaste rises in his stomach like bile. 
“Aye, good for you, man! So when are you going to ask Y/n out?”
“No way, bro, not yet. I’m such a wimp, but I hope I grow the balls to ask soon because I really like-”
“-looks like you got some competition!” The blond nudges Alhaitham, and if it were anyone else, they would not have glanced twice at the grey-haired who seemed unmoving and uninterested. However, Kaveh is not anyone else because he noticed the darkened look in Alhaitham’s eyes instantly, anger seeping into his composed gaze as his nose scrunches in disgust. 
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
“So, you and Alhaitham still aren’t talking?” Kaveh asks, leaning on the table of the restaurant with curious ears, hoping that he can grab some answers out of you as to why there was a stalemate between you and his roommate.
“Nope,” you sigh. 
“Why not?”
“I’m just-” you pinch the bridge of your nose, “I’m just waiting on an apology from him.”
“An apology? Why? What did he say?”
“He didn’t tell you?”
“You know how he is. Always insufferably secretive, so no, I don’t know anything that happened.” 
“Alhaitham just said some hurtful things to me, and he was being weird when I told him I was going to dinner with a friend of mine. Just kept being in my business.”
“Really?” The architecture student quirks a brow, confusion plastered on his face. “That’s not like Alhaitham at all.”
“I know, right? He kept trying to be like ‘don’t hang out with him’ and ridiculed me for not playing my part as an executive of the Sumeru society,” you complained, “like sorry I have other things I want to do.”
Kaveh nods in understanding as the conversation briefly stops when the waiter comes to drop off utensils at your table. As soon as they were gone, however, you begin again.
“And even though he was all up in my business, trying to tell me what not to do, he then said that I wasn’t special, which is so confusing because like-”
“-hold on. Alhaitham said that you weren’t special?” You nod at his parroted claim. “To him?” 
“Yeah. Stung like shit when he said that, especially since I thought we were friends but guess not,” you murmur sadly, fiddling with the fork.
Later that night, almost immediately after meeting you over dinner, Kaveh barges into his roommate’s room, not even changing out of his outside clothes. The sudden intrusion shocks Alhaitham who was busy typing on a document, textbook splayed open beneath him but momentarily forgotten as the blond takes a seat on the bed.
“What the- not even a hello?” The grey-haired asks, confused by this uncharacteristic silence of Kaveh’s. It’s pretty normal for the blond to barge into his room without notice, but it was not normal for him to be so quiet, practically brooding on the mattress. “Whatever. Where have you been? Have you eaten yet, because I made-”
“When will you just confess to Y/n?”
The mention of your name causes a spike in Alhaitham’s heartbeat and he swivels around instantly, attention fully directed towards his roommate. “Where is this coming from?”
“Y/n told me everything that happened between you two by the way-”
“-what, when?”
“Tonight, we just met for dinner.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“What would you have done if you knew? Showed up and made things worse?” He doesn’t say anything in retaliation, merely shutting his mouth and furrowing his eyebrows. “Why did you say that Y/n wasn’t special to you?” 
“I didn’t,” Alhaitham sighs, very loud and very perplexed. “I didn’t mean for it to come out the way it did.”
“Don’t you miss Y/n? You two used to hangout so often.”
“I do, of course I do!” He exclaims, burrowing his face in his hands. 
“So why aren’t you apologising?” 
“Because whenever I’m around Y/n, I’m not who I normally am,” he mutters, “especially everything whenever that project partner is around-”
“Jealous, much?”
“I’m not jealous.”
“Oh come on, you’re ridiculous. Stop pushing away your feelings and just be honest with yourself, Alhaitham! Y/n is not just a friend to you and you know it.”
“But, we are just friends-”
“So you mean to tell me that if I hung out with someone else- like if I hung out with Cyno, you would be pissed?”
“What? No, of course not.”
“Then why is it different with Y/n?” Once again, Alhaitham doesn’t have an answer to the question, sitting as still as a statue hunched over his desk. “Fine, I’ll spell it out to you. You like Y/n, more than just a friend!”
The silence leftover from Kaveh’s outburst is tense and full as the grey-haired lets the words sink in. 
“I’ll let you think about it,” the blond murmurs, voice softening dramatically as he stalks out of the room. Before he closes the door, however, he leaves a few final words. “Just- be honest with yourself, Alhaitham, and I wouldn’t delay trying to talk to Y/n.”
A sharp click rings through the room.
Alhaitham is no stranger to being alone, for who needs the company of others when you are happiest by yourself? Yet, in the weeks that you have not been speaking to him, a cardinal urge as been growing each and each day, wanting him to do something so atypical of him: to reach out and make the first move. Every passing day doesn’t lessen the thoughts that plague his mind, rather, they make him more and more impatient, because what if you get swept away by your project partner? 
(What if he’ll be too late? What if you won’t know of these powerful emotions that are steering through the storm in his heart? What if you won’t know just how badly he was been wanting you- wanting to see you, wanting to apologise, wanting to see you beam at him like you always would.
What if you won’t know that he adores you, especially now that he’s figured it out?).
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
A rain droplet falls and lands on your nose, another lands on your forehead, then another lands on your lip then more and more keep falling from the cloudy sky, falling through the leaves and landing on the bench you were currently sitting on. Goodness, you should have checked the weather before leaving your dorm. Why was it now out of all times that it had to rain, what would Alhaitham think after he finally decided to reach out to talk?
Taking your phone out to message the grey-haired about relocating, an umbrella is suddenly held over you, stopping the gentle drizzle from falling onto you. Looking up, you’re greeted by a familiar face that you have been missing too much recently.
“Hello, you,” you breathe, voice gentle and quiet and Alhaitham feels like he can finally breathe after so long, the scent of rain washing away all perplexion.
He nods at you in greeting before offering you the bouquet of flowers he was holding. A gorgeous arrangement of pink of white stare prettily at you and a man even more gorgeous expects you to accept it.
“For me?” You ask.
“For you.”
“Thank you, they’re so beautiful,” you take his gift with gentle hands, holding it close to your chest. 
“I want to apologise,” he firmly states, getting straight to the point; very Alhaitham of him. “For treating you the way I have been recently.”
You beam at him, so bright and so gorgeous that it renders him speechless, a feat pretty difficult when it comes to someone like Alhaitham who has a whole dictionary of words, in multiple languages too. Somehow, they all flock out of his mind the second you smile at him.  
“I accept your apology, thank you for reaching out, must have been hard for someone like you, huh?” You tease, standing up from the bench.
“Well, I had do for someone as special as you.” The grey-haired’s voice is deceivingly confident and assured, but you know better, especially when he looks away to hide his expression with his neatly styled bangs. 
“No need for the flattery, you know, I’ve already forgiven you.” There’s a moment of silence that occupies the air, caused by Alhaitham’s hesitation as he fishes his brain for the courage to ask you out. You speak before he can get a word out, however. “I got asked out the other day.”
“By your groupmate?”
“He has a name, you know, but, yeah. I rejected him, though,” you laugh awkwardly, almost like you were trying to cope with it by playing it off. “Did you know that he would do that?” 
“Yes. I did.”
“Is that why you were so adamant on me not hanging out with him?”
“I guess you could say that. We can talk more about it another time,” he tells you, voice gentle and caring to mask the subtle hit of jealousy he feels in his chest, scolding himself for letting someone else confess to you before him. However, it’s a minute sensation in comparison to the triumph Alhaitham feels knowing that you rejected the other party. 
“We have a lot to talk about, don’t we?”
“We do, but I want to ask you something first.” 
You nod, hugging the bouquet closer to your chest, anticipation heavy in the air as you spur him to continue. 
“If I asked you out, would you reject me too?”
A mere second passes by where you don’t respond, yet the second stretches out to what feels like eternity as Alhaitham’s stomach churns. Patience is something he doesn’t lack, but how can he be patient when his heart wants you so bad? 
Then, you take his hand, and the heavens sing at the feeling of your hand in his. “I wouldn’t, but are you asking me out?”
“Are you free right now?”
“I am. Why?”
“Let’s go out then. On a date.”
“I'd love to.” You rise up to place a lingering kiss on his cheek, one that has his heart racing with joy rather than frustration.
The smile you earn is gentle, shy, but says more than Alhaitham's words ever can.
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© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
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dashofghost · 3 months
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PRACTICE
or, simon riley has a big dick. that's all. mdni.
"Are you sure?" Simon asks, for maybe the fourth time. You pull him down for a kiss, tangling your hands in his grown out buzz-cut. His lips are chapped and familiar against yours, moving in a well-rehearsed dance.
"If you don't fuck me right now, Simon Riley, I will chop your dick off," you tease, pulling him closer. He chuckles, wrapping his huge hands around your thighs, pulling them open. He watches, lip caught between his teeth, as you flutter and clench around nothing, slick coating your inner thighs.
"Tap out if it gets too much?" he confirms, but it's more like he's asking himself, smearing slick over your folds and your opening. You nod, looping your arms around his neck as he braces himself on his forearms above you.
"Si," you gasp as he pushes himself in. He knocks the air from your lungs, the vein under his tip rubbing against you. You arch your back up as you feel yourself stretch around him.
"Oh, oh god," Simon groans, hands landing on your thighs to ground himself. He pulls them apart, head falling back as he watches his your hole swallow him.
"Si, it's big," you whine, feeling the dull, pleasurable ache between your thighs grow. Simon rubs messy circles on your clit, pressing an apologetic kiss to your temple.
"I know, 'm sorry angel, just a little bit to go," he soothes, wiping away a stray tear from the corner of your eye. He pushes himself in to the hilt and watches stars dance in his vision. He's gasping for air, completely lost in pleasure.
His hands are shaking a little as he pulls your thighs up, locking them around his waist. You whimper at the new position, nails clawing down his back. Simon's head drops into the crook of your shoulder, gasping in your ear.
"Si, think I'm gonna-"
"I know," he groans into your neck, "I know, I can fuckin feel it sweetheart, you're so fuckin perfect-"
You cum with a whine, and it takes everything, all those years of military training, to stop Simon from cumming right then. He's pretty sure he's drawn blood from his bottom lip. He doesn't care.
As the aftershocks wash over you, he pulls out just a tiny bit, before rolling his hips back into you, and it's euphoria. He's only done it three times before you're writhing underneath him, leaving crescent-moon marks on his biceps.
"More, Si, I need more, I need it," you beg, tightening the grip on his arms. Simon's head is spinning, he doesn't know if it's the creamy ring of cum at the base of his cock or the fact that you just fucking came that does it to him, but he knows he won't last.
"Greedy fucking girl," he groans, crashing his hips into yours. The slick sounds that emanate from where your bodies meet fill the room, and Simon shouldn't find them hot but he does.
"God, I'll give you fuckin' everything," he gasps, "it's- it's all for you, angel."
◇─◇──◇─◇
Logan if you're reading this get off my tumblr
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ozzgin · 4 months
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Omg bro yk whats been on my mind for do long?? A demon king trying to court a hero reader. Like the hero has already fought and defeated the king but somehow he comes back and he's desperately trying to get the hero to join him (in more ways than one). He wants the reader to be his spouse and leader of his army against the corrupt human race and the reader (now fallen from stardom due to the evil kings defeat) just wants him gone and to be left alone. Idk if this makes sense but I need to see SOMEONE write abt it before I lose my last marble.
-Doll
This is giving me Dragon Quest vibes, haha. Not a trope I'm too familiar with, but it sounds interesting nonetheless. I shall do my best! Sorry for the delay, I hope it's close to what you imagined. :)
Yandere! Demon King x Hero! Reader
As it goes with villains, they always find a way to return. This time, the Demon King has a different plan in mind. You were prepared for anything, from evil schemes to ancient conjured weapons...except for a wedding ring cordially placed before you. Do you say yes?
Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, 🔥proposal (literally)
[Part 2]
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You still remember everything so fondly. How you crawled out of that enormous crater, body battered and weak, as everyone watched in horror and held their breaths. Finally, you raised your fist victoriously. The Demon King had been, at last, defeated. The people cheered and cried and pulled you up under thundering waves of applause. Peace was no longer just a dream.
A sweet, innocent memory, even more so given its fleeting nature. The genuine smiles of gratitude quickly turned into crooked grins asking for favors. Before you knew it, you became some sort of political accessory to convince the masses. Posing for photos, shaking hands, being interviewed with bizarrely planned questions reeking of propaganda. You suddenly felt burdened, heavy, disappointed. This was not the kind of fame you envisioned for yourself.
Thus, you gradually vanished from the limelight, keeping your distance from everyone else and spending most days in solitude. Better than having to look into those unscrupulous, opportunistic eyes measuring up your worth. You had fulfilled your job and purpose.
This morning you're woken up by the sound of your belongings rattling in their shelves. The wooden frame of your bed is creaking, and you struggle to get up. An earthquake? A wave of nausea flushes over you. You recognize this feeling all too well, though you never expected to deal with it again. This is a disaster alright, yet the forces of nature have nothing to do with it.
You rush outside, swinging the door open and nearly tripping in your hurry to confirm your suspicions: the demonic creature is approaching your humble adobe with heavy steps, as the ground crumbles and shatters underneath. The Demon King himself, in flesh and blood. Although the blood splattering his armor is most likely not his. Same for the visceral remains threading his weapon. Regardless, your jaw tightens nervously, and you stand back, in a defensive pose. "You're a stubborn one", you say smugly, trying to maintain your composure. "Can't say I'm a fan of dying, that is correct." A ragged, monstrous voice erupts from the tall, armored figure.
"What brings you back?" You demand. The surroundings are too peaceful for him to have tampered with the city. Did he stop by to formally announce his destruction? "I have an offer that might interest you." The Dark Overlord has closed the distance between you, now looming above your much smaller body. You shiver. "I don't barter with Demons!" You conclude, turning around, prepared to leave. "Even when your precious people are on the line?" The horned beast warns with a grin. "If there's nothing better to do as a Ruler of Realms than killing petty humans..." You swiftly retort, going back into your house and slamming the door shut.
He stands for a moment, speechless. "Y-your Majesty? Should I take care of the humans, or (Y/N)?" Only now he notices his scaly butler, bowing to his side with claws resting over the weapon. The Demon King raises a hand, shooing the servant away. The annihilation of the human race can wait. There are more important matters to deal with presently. He'd expected your rejection, naturally, but not in such fashion. The indifference, the flat voice, the empty eyes devoid of emotion. Have the city dwellers tampered with his hero? He expected to see your fierce rage and in return he was met with a hollow shell.
Bright blue flames erupt from the openings of his armor, resulting in a menacing show of lights. He's known it for the longest time, of course. Humans are rotten to their very core. Vile, deceitful creatures that have slithered their way up, exuding undeserved arrogance. He's been trying to show you this very fact, yet you were blinded by naive faith. Your unwavering, honest heart that won him over has turned out to be your early demise. Not anymore. His vengefulness knows no bounds when it comes to traitors.
The sudden spike in temperature alerts you. Was it your rudeness that angered the Demon? You don't care anymore. Whatever happens to the city is out of your hands. And yet...you're buckling the straps of your old suit made for battle. Sword in hand, you gaze at your reflection. What could the Beast want? The fortified city no longer holds the value of its olden days. Just like you've left your hero days behind. Without much contemplation, you run out and head for the main gates. The path is paved with ash and rubble and your grip on the weapon tightens. Regret immediately wells up in your chest, ready to burst out. Is it too late? The entrance is engulfed in fire, charred corpses toppling against the ruins of the walls.
You reach the town hall - or rather, what remains of it - and face the Demon King. Has he gotten stronger since your last encounter? You hold your breath as the horned monster turns towards you. "I've tried to tell you, again and again. Time after time." He sighs, defeated. "Between the two of us, I'd say you were the stubborn one all along." His voice is softer than what you would've expected from someone that had just massacred an entire settlement. There's not a single scratch or sign of struggle. Was he merely holding back during your last fight? One thing is certain: you're his final obstacle. You raise your sword, determined. Hot sweat trickles down your face as the flames surround you. "Well, at least you've convinced yourself now, I hope. There's nothing left for you here." The Demon King lowers himself, extending a fist towards you. A spell? Secret weapon? Your leg muscles contract in anticipation.
His fingers open and stretch out, slowly. In his palm, a barely noticeable ring. Given the ridiculous size difference, you assume this is better fitting for a human. You stare at it in confusion, discerning the wedding vows carved in the noble metal. "What's the meaning of this?" You mutter, glancing at the Beast now resting on one knee before you. "What? Is it not your human custom?" He looks away for a moment, clicking his tongue. "That useless butler. He told me- Forget it! You are to return with me to my Kingdom. As my spouse."
Of all the things you've prepared yourself for...Your brows furrow and your mouth hangs open in shock.
What is your answer? The Demon King will not leave empty-handed.
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pseudowho · 4 months
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Fire and Iron
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Forced to stay the night with Nanami Kento, the town's blacksmith, after tending to his wounds, you find yourself smouldering in his irresistible flame.
Warnings: 18+, fluff and smut, loss of virginity
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Your boots cracked through the ice-topped slurry puddles scattering the mud path in the village. The shawl bundled over your shoulders was not enough, and the biting cold wind whipped your cloak back, stripping its usefulness off your shivering shoulders.
Townsfolk waved to you, nodding, smiling; greetings for a familiar face, many of them grateful for your travels to their icy town over the years, lacking even a basic healer of their own, let alone one so talented.
Passing by the blacksmith's hut on your way, you paused out the front, feeling the heat bellowing forth like dragon's breath. You tipped your head back, the smell of ash and steel filling your nose. As you paused, moments after, so did the clang of hammer on anvil.
You opened your eyes, stinging in the brutal cold and smoke. You, once more, like a hundred times before, had caught the eye of the blacksmith. He, whose name you did not know. He, who looked but never touched. He, to whom you had passed so many thousands of hours of your life, and his life to you, through gaze alone.
Stood proud at the anvil, shadowing the forge like the door to hell behind him, his broad shoulders wore only an open-chested white linen shirt, and a thick brown leather apron. With his ashy blond hair, and the lines of his face filled with soot, he was ageless and unknowable. He looked to you, his sharp face quiet and impassive; expression always somewhere between fury and tranquility.
Your lips parted once, as if to speak, and it jumped the blacksmith to life. With a barely perceptible nod, and a grunt, he swung his hammer back, brought down in beautiful accuracy, shaping smouldering steel. The clang rung through you, your chest jolting with a short gasp, and you collected yourself, stepping onwards. You were sure you could feel his cool gaze through the back of your head.
Another patient; another healed. Another grateful family; another life prolonged. The days were short now, and as you stepped out of the house of rough-hewn wood and stone, the forest pines were bathed in dying light, netting the low winter sun above the horizon. It was a punishing journey home, on foot, and the horses were long since put to bed.
The blacksmith's hut held its own sunset, the forge open but unattended. You heard stamps, heavy feet and cursing. You paused in the burst of warmth, illuminated, listening. Curiosity carried your feet into the hut, the heavy wet hem of your skirts collecting ashes, absorbing the blacksmith's domain.
"Are you...are you alright?" You called, uncertain, "Sir?" The footsteps, the swearing, had stopped. You stepped further in, feeling the forge belch at you, almost excruciatingly hot now.
"Get away from there!" The bark, deep and commanding, made you squeak and stumble. Darting through the side door, the blacksmith looped one thick arm round your waist before you fell towards the forge, effortlessly lifting you round, his back to the furnace, his face in shadow.
He was close; close enough that you could smell the soft sweat, the tang of fire and metal. He hissed as your hands dropped to his forearm, and you felt a cold dripping cloth draped over it.
"Do you often wander into places uninvited?" He snipped at you. You recognised the cadence in his low voice-- pain.
"I-- ...you're hurt," you insisted, voice barely above a whisper. Looking up, your eyes tried to gauge his unreadable face in the gloom. You felt him huff, warm air across your cheeks. His arm loosened, releasing you. As he stepped back, turning away to close the forge, you saw the blacksmith's mountainous shoulders tense, twitching.
"It's nothing," he retaliated, brisk. You stepped forwards again, placing a soft hand on his shoulder. At first, he flinched, then begrudgingly allowed you to turn him, and lift the damp rag covering his forearm. A thick welting burn, running the length of his forearm, lay weeping and angry on his skin, already nicked with so many little scars. You heard his teeth grit as the air hit his wound.
"Nothing," you scoffed, "this needs dressing. Let me help you." You felt him flinch beneath your hands, hesitant. He felt his skin prickle under yours, finding such curious pleasure in your touch alongside his pain. Your beseeching eyes took him the rest of the way, and he found himself accepting you.
"I...not here," the blacksmith toned, his eyes flitting to the town around him, "if they believe me injured, I'll lose business." You nodded, rummaging in your overburdened satchel, until he took you gently by the hand.
"My home," he began, hesitant, your hand so soft and small in his broad calloused palm, "you'll...you are welcome. It is clean. Quiet. I...I will not harm you. I promise."
Aware of his size and strength, aware of the air of mystery surrounding him amongst the townsfolk, the blacksmith was quick to reassure you. Your eyes softened, and his thumb brushed lightly over your knuckles at your words, electricity crackling up your arm.
"I know you won't," you assured. The briefest smile graced his severe face when you offered your name. You felt it warm you from the belly downwards. As he pulled encouragingly on your fingers, leaving the forge to die naturally with the approaching nightfall, you were led through the back of the hut, seeing a newly revealed sprawling cabin of wood and stone, at the edge of the forest. You felt the first kiss of snow upon your cheek.
"Nanami Kento," the blacksmith replied, welcoming you over the threshold. You smiled up at him, taking in his home; barely lit, at first, until he struck a lantern to life. You placed your bag upon a table, rummaging for salves as Kento began to build the fire, skilled and efficient.
You basked in the homely room; autumnal tapestries lining the walls, skin rugs on the floor and furs on the chairs, hanging herbs above a countertop, circled with hung skillets and pans. You relaxed easily into the sincerity of Kento's welcome. A frigid wind slapped the windows, rattling the door.
Before long, an enormous cast iron pot boiled with water, and you knelt before Kento, appraising his wound in the orange glow. Cleaning your hands, wetting a rag with clean water, you moved to clean the ash from his arm before pausing.
"This will hurt," you apologised, looking up to him. Kento's heart stuttered; how many hours had he spent, imagining those sweet eyes, those gentle fingers? Too long. Too many words unspoken over too many years. He was not used to such tenderness.
"I am used to pain," he hushed, smooth and barely audible above the crackle of flame, "my job has certain...hazards, after all." You hummed, swiping the cloth gently, removing dirt and debris.
"Still," you hummed, "I don't like to hurt a friend." Kento chuckled, and you felt yourself blush from hairline to toes at the rich mirth of it.
"We are...friends, are we?" His voice was low and conspiratorial, and you felt it stir a hunger deep within you. You smiled back, mulish as you dabbed salve onto his burn. His knees were parted, with you knelt between them, and your elbows rested on the thick muscle of his thighs. You felt safe, warm, held.
"All those years, passing back and forth," you sighed, teasing, "and not one hello? Just lots of nods," your stomach swooped as Kento laughed again, "and our friendship is just that. An accumulation of nods."
"Would we have stopped at 'hello'?" Kento retaliated. He caught the brief pause in your bandaging, before you continued. You spoke, uncertain again.
"Well," you hummed, testing the water, "offer me one now...and we shall see where it goes." Looking up, you gasped to find your face just inches from Kento's. He smiled at you, his eyes flicking briefly to your lips and back up again.
"Hello," he whispered, quiet and mischievous, "and thank you."
Your breath fluttered out; Kento could feel it against his lips, beckoning him.
"I...it's getting late," you started, and Kento blinked out of his reverie, glancing to the inky black outside his windows, "I should go."
Kento grasped your fingers once more, rising with you as he stood, your shawl shushing against his chest, barely covered by his soft linen shirt. Kento hummed, sounding grave, stepping to the other side of the room.
"It is night," he said, hands cupped around his eyes as he squinted out of the windows, "and the woods are barely safe in the day. I...I cannot allow you to travel. Alone, in the snow. You must stay."
His tone broached no argument, yet still you tried, packing your bag, your cheeks aflame.
"I...it isn't..." you stuttered, and Kento turned to you, chin inclined to the floor, one fine eyebrow raised. You took a deep breath, certain that if you didn't leave now, you may fall too deeply into Kento's insistent heat. Yet...you knew he was right. The path was treacherous. The snow would take you before the dawn.
"Would you like a bath?" Kento offered, turned away to save you your blushes; a gentleman.
"I-- please don't go to any trouble--" Kento swiftly ignored you, beginning to grasp the enormous iron pot, lifting it with stunning ease. His voice didn't even hitch.
"It's no trouble. I bathe every night. You can go before me." Kento carried the pan, stepping behind a folding wooden screen, and you followed him as if to argue, watching him begin to fill an enormous copper bathtub. Your hands shook as you began to remove your shawl, still blushing, so briefly overwhelmed before squashing it down.
Kento glanced up at you, pausing as he poured hot water, "This will take me some time," he said, apologetic, "please make yourself comfortable. I'll call for you."
You nodded, clearing your throat, hands twisting in your removed shawl. Kento chastised himself for admiring the soft curve of your breasts into your waist, the hidden delight of the swelling of your hips beneath your heavy skirts. He did not see how the steam rose fast, dampening his white shirt, how you could see all the way to his navel as he leaned over the bath. Neither of you knew how the other stirred within.
As you walked the length of the room, your fingertips brushing tapestries and grazing over warm furs, your curiosity drew you to a wide, flat trinket box, inlaid with mother of pearl, the colours an aurora in the rolling firelight. You stroked the box just once, before lifting the lid.
Your eyes crinkled immediately with joy at the treasures within; the box was full of lovingly crafted necklaces of gold, silver, pearl and gem, the chains finer and softer than any you had ever seen. You did not feel Kento approach as you admired them.
"I'd like for you to choose one," he offered, sincere, as you spun to face him. He raised his hands placatingly, a smile at the edge of his mouth, "not in lieu of payment, of course. A gift, I...made them with no real aim as to who should receive them."
"You made these?" You gaped, unable to fathom how such enormous hands crafted such intricate delights, "Kento, I-- they're beautiful, I couldn't possibly..."
If Kento had held any reservation, after hearing his name tumble from your lips, he was filled with the burning certainty that the jewellery should be for you, and you alone. His hand closed over yours as you moved to shut the box.
"Please," he breathed, so close, "choose one, or I shall give you them all." Swallowing, your hand hovered over a fine chain of silver and emerald, your fingertips brushing the gem. Kento hummed his approval, before picking it up, his calloused fingers all softness and grace.
"My favourite, too," he rumbled, brushing your hair off the nape of your neck as he clipped the necklace into place. You shivered at the feeling of his fingers on your neck, and almost ran as he whispered beside your ear, "Your bath is ready."
Stripping behind the wooden screen, hearing Kento amble around the room beyond, you sighed as the hot water enveloped you. Washing yourself with a soft sponge, cleaning off the grime of the day, your hand wandered absentmindedly downwards, fingertips grazing through your folds, naturally moving to relieve yourself of the building tension--
"I've left you a shirt." Your hand darted upwards with a guilty splash, Kento's voice only meters away behind the screen.
"Thank-- thank you," you squeaked, blushing, before climbing out, so naked apart from your exquisite new necklace. Drying on a soft towel, your hand hesitated over the shirt draped over the screen, before pulling it on over damp skin. It reached down your thighs, but left little else to the imagination.
Kento remained outwardly stoic, unreadable, averting his gaze as you crept out, arms holding yourself and squashing your breasts together, the colour of your nipples as faint as a ghost under the white linen shirt. He cleared his throat, coughing lightly before skirting past to the bath. You felt heat creep up your neck at the gossamer hush of his clothes hitting the floor, the shifting water as he stepped in, the way he sighed in relief, almost as if--
"I shall sleep in the chair tonight," Kento said, slow and considered, "and you shall have my bed." You felt indignation roll within you.
"Don't be ridiculous," you scolded, "you're injured, and this is your home--"
'-- and you are my guest," he grumbled.
"I won't allow it," you insisted, almost forgetting yourself as you approached the wooden screen, "I'll put some furs on the floor and--"
"You believe I would let you sleep on the floor?" He growled, furious at your suggestion, "I should rather you have me share the bed with you over that--"
"Fine. Then we shall share the bed. And there will be no more argument." You clapped a hand over your mouth as the words tumbled forth, unbidden. Mortified by your own suggestion, you removed your hand to speak again.
Kento stepped round from behind the screen, his towel draped lazily round his waist. You gaped up at him, stunned. He was...younger than you thought, his blond hair now soft and floppy, the ash removed from the lines in his face, taking ten years off him. You faced him, his towering form, the practiced rolls, peaks and planes of muscle belonging to a working man, his forearms so thick--
"Then...we should get to bed," Kento insisted, stepping past you, through a doorway to his bedroom, where you heard him rummaging for clothes, "it is late and I am up with the lark."
You hesitated where you stood, feeling your heartbeat between your legs, desperately curious, but paralysed.
"I don't bite," Kento called out, and you gulped down the sounds of soft fabric dropping over his body, still crippled with indecision and embracing yourself as he stepped out to put out the fire. You were lost momentarily in darkness before he stepped to you, the lantern between you, a beacon in the dark. You felt his hand close around your fingers again. You heard him whisper.
"It will become cold quickly, now the fire has died. Come. Stay warm."
You allowed yourself to be led to Kento's bedroom, hypnotised by the small swinging lantern. Kento led your hand downwards, placing it to the edge of the bed for you to feel your way, your fingers gliding through soft fur and cool sheets. With shaking hands, you crawled across to the head of the bed. Kento waited for you, flipping down the sheets, flipping them back up to your chin as you both slipped between them.
You heard nil but your own heartbeat. Kento faced you, the torch light embering behind him leaving him only just visible as your eyes adjusted to the light. The sheets had not yet warmed from your bodies, and you shivered. You felt Kento shift beside you.
"You...are cold," he stated as if in question. You remained quiet, gripping your hands to your chest lest they reach out for him.
"I'm...I'll warm up. Soon," you reassured yourself as much as him. You heard one doubtful grunt from him. Five minutes passed, and still, Kento felt you shiver against the sheets. Pulling a fur up to your chins, he felt prickles up his legs as one of your feet reached hesitantly out to touch him. He felt rather than heard you sigh.
"So warm," you whispered, your little voice soft with comfort in the dark. Kento's breath caught in his chest, feeling his cock twitch inside his soft trousers.
"Do you...need me?" He offered. He felt your other foot reach out in answer, cold toes wiggling against the downy hair on his leg. He felt a dangerous, needy arousal thread through him.
Reaching out his uninjured arm, he hooked it round your waist, chuckling as you squeaked when he pressed against you. You hummed in pleasure at the heat rolling off him, basking in his warmth, forgetting your awkwardness for a moment. Kento and you lay intertwined like that, with you softening like butter in his arms.
After a few minutes, you shifted against him, about to drift off to sleep. Kento must have been near sleep as well, groaning into your hair as you shifted, reflexively clinging you closer to him. Your bottom, completely bare with his shirt shifted up your body, pressed back to his groin. His clothed cock was hard and barely restrained in his loose trousers, and pressed between your thighs.
You felt a jolt run through you, feeling a warm trickle of arousal, so alien to you, seep out between your thighs. Kento almost saw stars as it dampened the trousers over his cockhead, and he frowned, his forehead pressed to your shoulder blade in apology and embarrassment.
"I-- I'm sorry, I--...it's been so long...since I've felt a woman-- shit, I'm--" Kento rested his nose against your neck, unable to stop himself from ghosting his lips there. You dropped your head back to him, and he growled in appreciation, nuzzling your neck, feeling your thighs clamp around the tip of his cock, your arousal seeping through his trousers and mixing with his own.
"I've never--" you whispered, blushing furiously, drunk on the feeling of his body against yours, feeling so curiously empty and aching to be filled. Kento understood immediately, and moved to pull back.
"No!" You squeaked, holding onto his arm, pushing yourself back to chase him along the bed, "Please, I-- I want--...you. I want you." Your words sat heavy in the air. Kento shifted behind you, at war with himself.
"You don't know what you're asking," he growled, fighting against you to remove his arm, "I am no boy."
"And I'm no girl, nor stupid," you reassured, "I'm not ignorant."
In an instant, Kento moved above you, on all fours, his arms caging you in, corseting you to his bed. He stared down at you, enormous chest heaving, eyes roving down your body, quickly intoxicated by your peaked nipples, beneath his shirt, the hem of it barely covering your sex, still feeling your arousal dampening his cock.
He leaned down, nestling his mouth against your neck again, tongue flicking out, tasting you. He felt you still under his lips, just a little mouse, in the jaws of a bear.
"And yet, all that knowledge is just academic, until you're crying out that my cock is too big for you," he growled, warning you away, barely able to stop himself. He felt you squirm beneath him, his head swimming with you. He was lost, then, to your tiny whisper in the gloom.
"Show me-- please." Kento shuddered, a drop of pre-cum seeping out of his cock, soaking through his trousers and your-- his-- shirt, to dampen your belly. You shivered, desperate to know Kento biblically, desperate for this fabled ecstasy.
Kento raised his mouth from your neck, reading your eyes, seeing such certainty in them. Tangling his fingers with yours beneath the sheets, he pressed the length of his body down against you as he kissed you, his other hand framing your jaw, gently encouraging it open to slide his tongue against yours. Your soft little moan was like music to his ears.
Kissing you deeply, learning your voice and your mouth, letting you learn the peaks and planes of his body with your free hand, Kento kept your other hand plaited with his own, fearful of leaving you to take this journey alone.
He felt himself shudder with the unbridled privilege of being able to worship you, jealously grateful that you had not been left to some boy. He was overwhelmed by the need to set your standards high at the first hurdle.
"Let me taste you," he murmured into your mouth, and you hesitated, unsure of what he meant. Swiping his thumb across your palm, Kento's mouth ventured downwards, sucking the skin of your neck, nipping before soothing the skin with his tongue, feeling you become pliable, supple as water. His fingers danced over the laces holding your shirt together, giving you opportunity to stop him, before untying them, freeing your breasts.
Laying his tongue flat over one nipple, Kento allowed it to curve to the shape of you, to know you, before drawing it into his mouth, sucking on your nipple while his hand toyed with and kneaded the other. He revelled in your whines, a high, keening mewl as you arched off the bed into his mouth. You felt his licks and sucks, curiously, between your legs, and you could not help but buck up against him.
Kento grunted at the feeling of your pussy pressing against his thigh, and moved one hand down to hold your hips still.
"Slow down-- let me show you," he ordered, gentle in his insistence. You trembled under his fingertips, your hips settling back to the bed. He rumbled his approval, rolling your nipple under his tongue again until you sighed, breathy and ecstatic, "Good girl."
In reward, his mouth continued to trail downwards, and your eyes fluttered closed, one hand coming to rest on the back of his head, your fingernails scratching through his damp hair. Kento shivered at the sensation, feeling his cock leap against his thigh.
When his mouth reached your mound, you squeaked out in alarm, flipping the blankets down to see Kento, illuminated in the orange light.
"What are you-- your mouth, Kento--" Kento's eyes crinkled up at you, and two arms came to loop round the top of your thighs, pulling you down the bed towards him, your shirt being rucked up against the drag of the mattress to completely expose your glistening pussy to him.
Maintaining eye contact with you, you trembled with anticipation as Kento poked his tongue out into a point, first grazing your folds, before stroking from side to side to ease in between them. The sound that broke out from you as his tongue stroked over your clit, hot and wet, was one Kento masturbated to for years to come.
You felt as though you had been lifted from earth and dropped amongst the clouds as he licked at you, sucking, stroking, tasting, the pleasure so otherworldly compared to what your own hand could achieve, that you felt yourself being rushed towards your peak at speed.
Twisting and squirming against his mouth, you reflexively tried to pull your pussy away from Kento's attentions. His arms tightened around the tops of your thighs, growling into you, pulling you back as you tried to scoot away. Your hand tugged at his hair as you arched, whimpering, coated in a fine sweat. As Kento groaned into your cunt, you watched his hips roll and hump against the bed, the sight alone enough to send your orgasm crashing through you, and you worshipped his name in a long, keening cry.
Kento let his laps and sucks become softer, languid, letting you float through the haze of your pleasure. Nuzzling at you, tasting you as you trailed lazy blissful fingers through his hair, Kento planted soft kisses to your inner thigh.
Moving back up, stroking his nose against your neck, Kento felt your hand move down his shoulders and back, before coming round to ghost over the front of his trousers. Kento shuddered, kneeling above you to remove his shirt, skin prickling with the need to feel yours against his own.
Gazing down at you, his eyes like whiskey in the flickering light, he grazed a palm from in between your breasts, down to the hem of your shirt, pulling it up over your head in one swift tug, exposing you completely to him.
Your hand still trailed over his groin as he knelt, and you were captivated, obsessed with the shape, weight and length of his cock in your hands, blissfully unaware of what you were doing to him. As you grasped the lace at the front of his trousers, undoing it, and squeezing the head of his cock between your fingers, Kento moaned, ragged, leaning one hand sideways to support himself.
"Fuck-- I haven't-- not for so long," he moaned, low and husky, feeling your inexperienced fingers explore his cock and balls in a way that felt almost abusively naive. As your thumb glided beneath his foreskin, collecting the wetness of his pre-cum, exploring his slit, Kento hissed, panting and grabbing your hand.
You broke out of your reverie, blushing with mortification, tears pricking in your eyes as you began to apologise. Kento interrupted, shushing you, one hand still gripping your fingers around his cock, the other coming up to cup your face, his thumb swiping across your cheek.
"Not you," he huffed, stroking your cheek, smiling down at you with fevered eyes, "me, it's-- I-- I'll cum in your hand if you carry on." Your eyes glimmered, hungry to see how he looked as you pleasured him, and you moved yourself, leaning close, squeezing him again beneath his own hand, and he cried out in pleasure. You felt another drip of his arousal across your fingers, and you gulped, your tongue darting out across your lips.
As you lowered yourself to his lap, Kento's eyebrows raised in shock, and desperate awe, as you licked the weeping cockhead sticking out from your joined enclosed hands.
A low rumble ebbed through Kento, his eyes suddenly dark and hungry as he looked down at you, wordlessly using your hand inside his own, to pump the length of his cock. Feeling the intoxicating glide of soft skin over woody hardness, you let him use your hand to masturbate himself as you took the head of his cock into your mouth, licking, tasting the musty pre-cum there.
Every instinct screamed at Kento to chase his orgasm, to press your head further down his cock so he could use your little hand to jack off into your mouth, and he felt overwhelmed by the innocent licks and sucks you gave him, eyes cast upwards to see what effect they had on him. Kento moaned desperately, twisting on his haunches, fingers in turn tangling into your hair and coming away, clenching and unclenching at speed.
He felt the approaching rush of divine ecstasy, thrumming up his back in waves, his balls tightening up against the base of his cock--
Snapping, Kento pulled your hand and mouth off him, heaving you up the bed and back onto the pillows, before pinning you down with his body, panting into your neck, trying not to spill his seed over your belly. You were thrilled, ecstatic with Kento's pleasure, eager to see more of it.
You crept your hips up to his, trying to ease his cock into you. Kento huffed, his hand shooting down to press your hips down again.
"--going to kill me-- I swear-- no idea...you have no idea what you're doing to me--" Kento panted, quaking above you, one forearm planted above your head. As his peak ebbed away, Kento plaited his hand with your own again, above your head. He felt his cockhead resting against the smooth resistance of your entrance, and he suddenly felt so responsible for you.
"I don't want to hurt you," he huffed, aware he was bigger than average, but knowing from the fevered look in your eyes that he could not dissuade you-- not that he wanted to, at this point, his cock throbbing with urgent need.
"Please," you begged, "please." You felt Kento's hips press forwards into your soaking wet heat, feeling a slight sting as it met resistance. Kento rested his nose to yours, his eyes still feverish, his body still smelling of iron and ash and smoke.
"On one condition," he pressed, authoritative as his cockhead pressed deeper against your stinging resistance, breaking past thin membrane, gripping your thigh up to his hip as you trembled, biting your lip, tears in your eyes as you nodded-- anything, you thought, anything.
"Marry me," he whispered against your lips, and you squeaked as you felt a twang of pain, his cock suddenly nestled deeply inside you. Kento rocked his hips gently, shushing you, soothing you, his thumb stroking your palm. Not moving, just holding you as you adjusted to feeling so full, Kento waited for an answer.
"Y--yes...yes," you mewled, and Kento growled his approval against your neck, slowly pulling out of you before rutting back into your wet, tender pussy again, so intimate and deep that you cried out for him.
Kento rolled his hips, like a boat on the waves, whispering into you, certain he wouldn't last long; "First-- I'll cum inside you-- then I'll treat you like a queen...haaah...for the rest of my days."
You clung to Kento, lost in the ecstasy of him plowing into you, delighted by his rumbling groans in your ears, blissfully proud of being able to make such an unflappable man fall apart inside you. When his grip on your hip faltered, his shaking hand dropping to stroke quick little circles around your clit, Kento growled and bit into your neck to feel you rock your hips upwards to meet his own.
The sting almost completely eased, you felt quick pangs of pleasure, rising with every beat of your fast little heart, completely carried along by the eroticism of Kento's frantic groans and mumbles into your ear.
"My love I-- you feel so good...so good...god, I need to cum, need you to cum I-- aahhhh, fuck--" Kento felt your pussy clench around him, and he came inside you as you drank down his moans, fascinated by how they matched up with the bounding twitch of his cock, how his hips juddered into you involuntarily, how his face contorted, jaw clenched, somewhere between rage and serenity.
You were famished, starved of him, immediately desperate for more, and you felt him crumple into you, caging you in, shoulders heaving and spent. Kento chuckled as you peppered him with kisses, gripping your thighs round him and rolling him over so you lay above him, straddling him as his cock softened within you.
With his chin on his chest to look down to you, and a lazy lopsided smile across his face, Kento played idly with your hair, stroking your nose, your cheeks. He proudly fingered the beautiful necklace, resting against your breasts, squashed and plush against him.
"You meant it?" He asked, eager, concerned.
You hummed in delight, pressing a tender kiss to his chest as you nodded; "You had me at 'hello'."
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Would the anon who requested Blacksmith!Kento PLEASE STAND UP so I can credit you for breaking my brain.
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rowarn · 9 months
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wet&messy, afab!reader, no prns, just my brain worms dancing as usual, simon is obsessed with ur pleasure bc i SAID so, idk what this is its not normal grinding but.....just a lil treat from the depths of my brain <3
soft devoted simon who is addicted to your pleasure. everything he does is to get u off. he literally thinks about making u cum while he eats sleeps and dreams. its his hobby tbh
he loves loves loves slow, deep, sloppy sex. he loves having you spread and pinned beneath him — he's so much bigger than u so he can manhandle u and move you however he pleases bc he knows exactly what u need before u even know urself.
in particular, his favorite thing to do is have u pinned open your knees against his ribs and his body draped over yours. either holding himself up by his elbow above your head or his arms on either side of your head. he's got his knees slid underneath your thighs, making sure his hips are flush against yours.
you can't even break eye contact, he wont let you. all you can do is whine and squeal as he makes you take it nice and deep. his body covers yours; his scenes overwhelms you his body heat makes you sweat from just how warm the man is.
then he starts with the grinding — the slow, deep grinding of his hips that makes his cock stir inside you. there's gooey, sticky wet noises from between your thighs when he does it. he makes sure he slides over your clit in this position too.
you can't do anything but twitch and drool as he does it. and he'll do it until you cum all over him he doesn't care how long it takes.
sometimes he milks multiple orgasms out of you this way. it practically melts your brain with how he touches every single sweet little spot inside of you without ever thrusting — just that godforsaken grinding.
you don't know what to do with yourself. he's so deep. you're so wet. it's messy and loud. you scramble to hold whatever part of him you can; scratch his back, tug his hair, slap the bed beneath you. doesn't matter because you won't be getting out from under him or getting a chance to breathe until you cum.
and god, he's so deep. he's so fucking deep!
you're creaming all over him, the base of his cock covered in a thick, milky ring that just about drives him over the edge with you when you squeeze around him like a perfect little vice.
he's whispering praise and sweet little compliments about how lovely you look cumming and how good you make him feel.
it's almost crazy how selfless he is with making you feel good. he doesn't even care if you're too fucked out and tired to do anymore. doesn't even care to get off himself. all he thinks about all day is grinding into you until you gush a sweet little mess all over him without him even breaking a sweat.
ur so sweet and pliant for him and he loves it. loves u!!! adores u!!!
will go to sleep happily with a hard cock as long as u are satisfied.
but if u tell him what you want is for him to fill u up nice and full...well....he'll do anything to please his baby!!! <3
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nanaslutt · 6 months
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The JJK men’s fav cuddling postitions <3
incl: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Choso, Sukuna, Toji, Megumi, Yuuji, Yuta
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cont: fluff :3, suggestive on Toji’s
note: i think this is my first full fluff fic…lol
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ
Gojo:
I know Gojo absolutely loves every position he can get you both into where you are physically as close as possible. Gojo's infinity is on automatically most of the time, the only touch he receives being from his students occasionally or from you. So when the time comes around for Gojo to be cuddled up with you, he needs to make sure every part of his body is touching some part of you.
I can see him being a fan of face-to-face cuddling, your limbs intertwined with one another, either his or your face pressed into the other's chest, your soft breathing tickling the skin of the other. Maybe something like the 'attack of the sloth' sleeping position. You on your back, Gojo's arms and legs wrapped around yours, leaving you completely enabled, his weight crushing you when you sleep; but you never complain.. well.. sometimes you do, Gojo's body is like a furnace.
Sometimes though, Gojo wants you to spoon him from behind. Of course, he loves it the other way around but theres just something so comforting about your small frame wrapped around his back. He feels so safe in your arms like this. He gets the same feeling one would when they were a kid, afraid of what was lurking in the dark, but the moment they pulled the blanket over their head, they were safe. Gojo felt untouchable, even more so than when he had his infinity on.
Geto:
A classic man, a simple man, a man of taste. I can see Geto loving the pretzel position. Him lying on his back, his toned arm above his head while his other wraps around your frame resting against him. His leg closest to you is bent, enabling you to interlace your leg with his, the appendage thrown over his thigh. He relishes in the feeling of your arm wrapped around his midsection, feeling safe and secure when you tuck you curl your fingers into his t-shirt on the side of his body.
He loves this position because he loves how close to you he feels, he also likes to see the size difference between the two of you when you're scooted down, your head on his chest. Another plus is he can scratch your back gently this way. His hands always find their way under your shirt, gently tickling and scratching the skin of your back, shoulders, and waist. He adores hearing you hum softly into his chest in approval at the relaxing caress.
You love this position for a variety of reasons as well. With your head on his chest, directly placed over his heart, you have free, unlimited access to the soothing rhythm of his softly beating heart, never failing to lull you into a peaceful sleep. You yourself were also guilty of slipping your hand under his shirt to feel up his abs. Running your fingers over the strong indents, counting them carefully in your head over and over, was the same to you as counting sheep. His skin was always so soft and warm, how could you resist?
Nanami:
Nanami's go-to is having you lay fully atop him, your head on the center of his chest, your bodies resting against one another while he strokes your hair. softly running his hands along your head, raking his fingers on the back of your neck, massaging your head, the whole nine yards. Nanami doesn't stop until he hears you lightly snoring on top of him.
Another thing about Nanami--if you drool or snore in your sleep, Nanami thinks it's the cutest thing in the world. You're always so embarrassed when you wake up and see the wet patch on his shirt after you had a particularly deep sleep, but Nanami finds it endearing; it means you felt safe with him, your body fully relaxing and letting go in his presence.
Another favorite is good ol' spooning. Nanami loves to be the big spoon. With both of your jobs as Jujutsu sourcerers, comes harrowing losses and injuries one cannot prevent, no matter how hard they try. So when Nanami gets the opportunity to completely encase your body in his strong, protective arms, it eases his nerves. He is constantly worrying about you, but in this moment he knows, nothing will touch you, nothing will get past his loving embrace.
This position gives Nanami unlimited access to the back of your neck. His lips instantly connecting with the soft skin, pressing soft kisses to the skin there, peppering down your shoulders, his fingers moving your nightshirt out of the way to touch your skin directly--god he loved kissing you. Your skin was so sweet and warm, how was he not supposed to kiss it? It was right in front of him after all.
Choso:
I have said this about Choso countless times, but he is a titty man.. so of course he's going to lay his head on top of your chest. He loves to feel the softness of your breasts agaisnt his cheek--if you have bigger breasts, you better bet he will lay face down and squish your tits around his face, holding his breath while he presses the fat against him, relishing in the feeling of your soft tits on his face.
His hands are without a doubt, on your chest as well. His large, warm hands engulf your tits in his grip, unconsciously feeling you up in his slumber, making you smile and laugh to yourself. He also loves wrapping his arms fully around your body too. The curse nuzzles his head against your chest while he slides his hands under the small of your back, his hands tickling the sides of your waist and back softly with the little mobility he has like this.
He has never felt love like this before, so when he feels your hands wrap around his back like it's the most natural thing in the world, it has his face heating up, a deep crimson blush spreading across his face while you rub his back, your nails raking over his back, over or under the thin material of his shirt. No matter how often the two of you cuddle together like this, he never fails to mumble how much he loves you into your chest, occasionally raising his head to look at you with a pout, still embarrassed even after all the time you spend together.
When you lean forward to press a kiss to his forehead, your fingers caressing his cheek before he drops his head back down to your chest to welcome the embrace of your arms around his body, he swears he's the luckiest man in the world.
Sukuna:
Your wrists and ankles are bound in chains while you sleep at the feet of his throne completely naked. <3
Toji:
I can see Toji being a fan of the 'pretzel' as well, same as Suguru. He gets a little more handsy most times, the hand he has wrapped around your back will creep down to the waistline of your night shorts. His thick fingers slip underneath the waistband, sliding under the band of your underwear as well as he grips as handful of your ass, massaging the fat in his hand, squeezing and rubbing it with his fingers.
At first, he did it as a way to tease you, and it worked, you always lifted your head to give him a stern look while he continued to massage the skin. Over time though, It became a comfort thing for the both of you. Whenever you're tired but Toji isn't, he'll turn down the volume of the TV in your shared bedroom and let you get comfortable on his chest, your ear resting where his arm and torso meet. He slides his arm around your frame, smiling to himself when you nuzzle and cozy up to him, his hand sliding down your back, rubbing up and down a couple times while you get situated.
When you get yourself to your desired position, throwing your leg over his hip; which meets his hand as he grabs it and pulls you over his pelvis more, caressing the side of your thigh soothingly; he slides his fingers into your underwear and stares groping you, his warm hands bringing you instant comfort, and familiarity. He'll continue to absentmindedly feel you up while he watches his show, his eyes occasionally darting down to look at you with softness in his eyes before he leans forward to press a kiss to the top of your head, drifting off soon after, leaving the TV running all night, as usual.
Megumi:
I imagine Megumi being super touchy with his significant other in private once he gets comfortable with you, but I still see him being a little awkward and shy about cuddling with you. It's so intimate after all. The two of you probably started with you lying on his chest with your hand resting on his tummy, you would have to make the first move because Megumi would rather die than initiate something like that at first, no matter how badly his body was itching to feel your warmth against him.
His body would go completely rigid when you laid on him out of nowhere. Megumi would hold his breath, not daring to move even in inches in fear you would move off of him. The weight of your head and your hand that was softly rubbing his tummy felt so comforting, although it did make goosebumps rise all over his body in shock. You would have to tip your head down to avoid him seeing your smile from hearing his heartbeat race out of his chest, the organ taking a significant amount of time before he gets used to your embrace, the rhythm slowing.
After a while of being together and countless cuddling sessions, I can see Megumi being more confident in initiating cuddle sessions when the two of you are watching TV or getting ready to go to sleep. His favorite positions are all of you cuddling him. You spooning him, him lying on your chest while his legs intertwine with yours--any position where your hands are wrapped around him and constantly caressing him in some way he is a huge fan of.
He also loves listening to your heartbeat. He didnt understand how you were always so calm, the soft lulling rhythm never failing to take him away to dreamland. He felt like he was going to have a heart attack every time you even smiled at him, but that was one of the things he loved about you--someone had to initiate the intimacy in the relationship and it sure as hell wasn't going to be him. If you weren't so forward, it probably would've taken him a year to even hold your hand on his own, so he was grateful you were more forward and verbal with what you wanted, because internally, he wanted the same as you, it just took a little coaxing to get him there.
Yuuij:
Yuuji has no preference! He loves each and every position, he just loves to cuddle with you. If he could always be touching you in some way, he would, and he sure as hell tries. You want to lay on his chest while he rubs your back? done. You want to spoon his large frame and wrap your leg over his waist while his fingers tickle your calf? done. Yuuji is ready for each and every cuddle position you propose to him, and he is not afraid in the slightest to initiate the cuddle sessions either.
I think Yuuji would find great joy in lifting your shirt up and crawling inside as much as his body could fit. His head resting on the soft skin of your tummy while your shirt blocks out most of the light emanating from the TV. "It feels like I'm a baby again." He would say, holding your hips in his hands on the outside of your shirt, his fingers tickling unconsciously along your sides, making you giggle.
I think Yuuji would really like coming home exhausted from training to sit in your lap and lay his head on your shoulder, his back arching slightly from the height difference between the two of you. He would hum into the crook of your neck while you stroked his back, raking your nails along him. He would smile to himself and close his eyes when you lift his shirt, scratching his warm skin directly while he falls asleep on your lap for a midday nap.
He was quite heavy and you're unable to breathe very well while he sleeps, but luckily he never naps long, and you do admit his weight crushing you felt weirdly nice, along with the ticklish puffs of his breath against your neck--it makes you feel close to him.
Yuta:
Yuta is a big baby. He handles enough in the Jujutsu world, trying to keep up his tough, strong persona while fighting, all he really wants when he comes to you is to relax completely in your embrace. Another man who loves it when you cuddle him from behind. He loves feeling your leg wrap over his waist, he knows he's not small, but he loves to feel like it sometimes, it's comforting.
One of his favorite positions to cuddle with you during the day is his head on your tummy/pelvis, his hands stroking along the length of your waist while you tangle your hands in his hair, running your nails over his sensitive scalp, down the back of his neck, reaching as much of his back as you can. It lulls him right to sleep, and he loves it. I think Yuta would struggle with falling asleep/sleeping through the night from insomnia, but when you're touching him, your warm embrace engulfing his body, he almost forgets about all the sleepless nights he spent without you by his side.
I can also see him loving to cuddle while facing you. Your head in his chest while he wraps his arms around you, and you likewise. Your legs tangled together, your bodies pressed as close as possible. During the summertime, this position is not the most comfortable because of the heat and the somehow awful AC Jujutsu high has. So during the colder months, the two of you constantly find yourselves in this position. He keeps his hand pressed snugly to the back of your neck, making sure your forehead stays pressed to his neck at all times.
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