his dick is heavy in his hand, flushed and leaking, the head slick as he runs it slowly through the slippery mess between your thighs. your folds are swollen, twitching with every brush of his tip.
his voice is rough when he whispers, “gonna ease it in, baby… s’gonna feel big. you tell me if it’s too much, alright?”
but you’re already nodding, legs spread wide, cunt stretched open and aching for him. the first inch pushes past your entrance and your body clenches around him immediately, sucking him in with a wet, squelching noise that makes his whole body jolt.
“oh—oh, sweetheart…”
his dick is so fat it forces your walls to stretch around him, snug and slippery and tight, and he’s biting his lip hard to keep himself from rutting deeper too fast. the air’s full of heat and moans, your gasps high and breathy while his are low, cracked, almost desperate.
he’s panting into your neck, trembling from restraint as he feeds you more. your pussy gives a sticky noise each time his hips nudge forward, and you can feel the drag of every vein along your inner walls, your muscles fluttering like you’re trying to spit him out but pull him deeper at the same time.
by the time he’s halfway in, your nails are digging into his back and your thighs are starting to shake. there’s a thick pressure deep in your belly, like your body’s being filled too full, and when you glance down, you can see the faint outline of him under your skin, stretching you out from the inside.
“just a lil’ more,” he groans, voice cracked. “you’re taking it—so good, baby, so soft down there, you’re squeezing me real tight…”
you whimper as he finally bottoms out, dick buried to the base, the thick root of it pressed firm against your overstretched entrance. he doesn’t move, breathing hard against your cheek, both of you dizzy from how deep he is.
your cunt pulses around him, dripping mess down onto the hairy base of his cock.
his hand finds your lower belly, palm spreading over that swollen spot where his dick bulges inside you.
“look at that,” he murmurs, in awe. “my sweet girl’s stuffed so full.”
he doesn’t even need to move. just the feeling of being buried inside you for the first time, the sight of your pussy stretched wide around him, your gasping mouth, your fluttering lashes, your slick dripping onto his thighs—it’s all too much.
he grinds in once—just to feel the way you tremble—and you both moan at the same time, breath tangled, filthy and flushed and soaking the bed.
and when he finally pulls back to push in again slow and deep, your whole body arches.
“there you go,” he groans, voice ruined. “that’s it, baby. open up f’me.”
Reader’s gender and age isn’t stated but reader is older than Tanjiro and Nezuko, thinking about 18 years old
Dynamic with the siblings
They adore you, absolutely worships the ground you walk on
Remember Tanjiro’s Mr. Giyuu? That’s both of them with you
They’re your little ducklings 🥰
Both of them are relatively clingy, but Nezuko is definitely more open about it than Tanjiro
You absolutely have to force him to relax and rest, especially when he bends over backwards to help everyone
Both of them like to sneak into your bed and lay there with you, just like they did before Muzan came
They’re your #1 supporters for life
Nezuko loves to turn into her toddler form and just be held by you
Tanjiro just holds your hand a lot, still remembering that he’s a child too. He can take a break
Dynamic with Kamaboko squad + Kanao and Genya
Sooo you’re the squads’ big sibling
You have to deal with their shenanigans that may or may not get a normal person killed
But good thing none of you are normal people
Inosuke wants to fight you for “leader”
Zenitsu begs you to tell him everything about Nezuko when she was a child
Genya gets so flustered around you and tries to push you away, but you really remind him of ‘Nemi before everything happened so he won’t fight back for long
Kanao was definitely the one to recognize the older sibling affection you have and silently asks for it like a puppy just begging with wide eyes
Dynamics with hashira
Mitsuri absolutely eats up all of the older sibling affection, she’s the eldest sibling herself but she wouldn’t mind experiencing being the younger sibling for a change
Shinobu really gets taken back to a time where Kanae was alive, it’s bittersweet for her but will never ask you to stop
Big brother giyuu finally gets a break.. wrong. He gets adopted into the sibling dynamics. He has no say
Obanai most likely doesn’t like you at all, but since you’re older he does tolerate you
Muichiro is adopted. Not by your choice. By his.
Kyojuro honestly asks you to watch over his younger brother for a bit since he certainly doesn’t want him alone in the house with his father
Gyomei is just very happy to be in the presence of a pure and loving sibling relationship from both sides
Tengen insists for you to be his student since your younger brother and his friends are so impressive
Sanemi mellows down with you, it’s honestly kinda scary but you make him nostalgic for a time before
Taisho era secret:
I heard that Muzan screamed when he saw you because he thought you were the first user of sun breathing
⋆˚ ✿ ˖ ࣪ tengen fucking you behind his wives’ backs
tengen knows he shouldn’t be seeing you, especially when he has three wives at home who don’t particularly like you — and for good reason. but he just can’t help the way he’s grown addicted to you, and especially addicted to the way your pussy feels around his thick cock as your gummy walls tighten around him every time he’s inside.
his wives have every reason to be suspicious of you with the way tengen’s eyes linger on you for too long or the way you look up at him with that playful glint they know all too well. they see the way he’s overly friendly with you, the lingering touches and the way he laughs with crinkles next to his eyes, the type of laughter they rarely see anymore. and to anyone else, it was painfully obvious what was going on between you two, but tengen always reassured them that you were nothing more than friends, and that they had nothing to worry about.
he’ll say that, then not even a few hours later find himself in your home late at night when his wives are asleep, fucking you deep into the mattress with your legs resting on his broad shoulders as you cry out his name and your pussy swallows his length whole, like you were made perfectly for him.
sex with you is just something else. with the way your pussy sucks him in so eagerly, desperate to swallow him whole as your walls flutter around his shaft — it has tengen completely addicted and completely at your mercy, even if he knew it was wrong. but even the thought of his wives finding out definitely doesn’t make him stop, only adding to the thrill.
“you’re so fuckin’ pretty, baby..”, he’ll mutter against your ear as he watches you come undone beneath him, admiring the sight of your parted lips and half lidded eyes as he continues to stretch you out with his cock, his mushroom tip throbbing when he nears his peak while snapping his hips forward.
and as he watches the way you cum, writhing beneath him with pretty babbles and the high pitched moan of his name, it has tengen’s throbbing cock still hard and eager to pound your overstimulated pussy over and over despite the overflow of cum in the clear latex around his cock, and he honestly can’t help but wish he didn’t have to use this stupid condom, the thought of claiming you as his own from filling you up with his seed sounding way more appealing.
𓂃⋆.˚ ( kny ) "shut up, mom!" prank on kny men !
⤷ ゛tengen, giyu, gyomei, rengoku, muichiro, obanai,
sanemi, muzan ˎˊ˗
tw yelling (as part of the prank), pregnancy, child is at least
a young teen in each scenario, minimal violence
part two here
masterlists
────────────────── tengen uzui
"Shut up, Mom!" your son yells. You're reclined on the couch, fighting against the instinct to laugh. before you can deliver your line, "excuse me?", you feel a weight lift from beside you and hear the footsteps of your husband.
You almost break your neck when you turn around, eyes darting from Tengen to your now trembling son - he agreed, quite eagerly, to prank his father, but that eagerness didn't make tengen any less intimidating. Standing tall at 6'6, it's hard to look at him and not think twice about everything you say around him.
"You'd've had it easier if you said that crap to me," Tengen hisses, grabbing his son by the front of his shirt. He leans down to place his face mere centimeters from his son's, and you're perched on the edge of the couch now, ready to interfere should the situation escalate.
"You can disrespect me all you want, but your mother? You're sick in the head, boy," he says lowly, before wrapping one strong arm around your son's shoulders and resting his forearm around his neck, putting him in a chokehold without the force. "Imma teach your disrespectful ass some manners."
From your position, you can see the veins enunciated and pulsing in his neck and arms, prompting you to shoot up from the couch and rush over to them. "He didn't mean any arm by it—it's just teenage hormones," you tell Tengen, trying to pry his arm off your son.
He gives you an evidently softer look than the one he was directing at his son, but doesn't let up. You see the devious smile on your son's lips and have to shake your head in warning, hoping he doesn't open his mouth to worsen the situation.
"Nah, she's just been annoying the hell out of me," he says.
Tengen sees red and you see a murder charge.
"It's a prank! it's all a prank, a joke, you know? just... messing with you," you finally reveal, placing your hands on Tengen’s arms placatingly. When your son nods in agreement, confirming your declaration, Tengen lets up and lands a gentle smack on the back of your son's head.
You let out a relieved sigh and pull a still-tense Tengen into your embrace, stifling a laugh. You’re overjoyed that he was so quick to defend your honour, but you can't help but want to frustrate him even further. When he spots the glance you give him, your son pales and shakes his head.
You say, "though, ahem, that last bit wasn't in the script," and it's all the warning your son needs to take off sprinting upstairs.
You feel your husband disentangle himself from your embrace and chase after the poor boy. "You hurt him and i'll make you eat glass for dinner!" you call out after the hunk of muscle, seeing him hesitate at that before resuming his chase.
────────────────── giyu tomioka
As agreed, you finally hear your daughter scream "shut up, Mom!" after you tell her to wash the dishes. Perfect line execution, in your opinion; very convincing.
"What?" Giyu snaps, his voice low and brows furrowed as he turns to face your daughter. your husband has never been one for extravagant and loud displays of anger, but even in quieter displays like this can you feel the heat radiate from him.
"She's always on my case about the dishes, dad! i don't wanna—"
"Shut it."
You press your lips together to contain your laugh and steel your expression into one of disappointment. "I’m sorry, sweetie, it'd just be nice to have some help around the house," you say, sighing dejectedly.
Your (feigned) sadness doesn't escape Giyu’s detection, and he begins approaching your daughter with measured steps. You see the flicker of fear in her expression before she, too, steels her features. He reaches a hand out to place on her shoulder and lowers his head to stare directly into her eyes, face-to-face.
"Your wants are not expressed through childish tantrums," he warns, tightening his grip on her. "Especially not when addressing your mother. She doesn't work herself to the bone so that you can fuss about what you want."
"But—"
"No. Apologise immediately."
You stare at your daughter expectantly, pleased that your husband is so adamant about protecting you, both physically and emotionally. She purses her lips, glances at you, then looks back up at Giyu.
"It’s just a prank, Dad."
Giyu remains silent, waiting for her to do as he asked. He clearly isn't convinced that this is all a joke and you're tempted to let this keep going. But you feel bad, having put your daughter at your husband's mercy, so you snicker quietly and wave a dismissive hand at him.
"She's not lying, honey," you say. Giyu looks at you then and raises a brow, piecing together the situation until it finally dawns on him. He sighs like he's dealing with two children instead of just the one that is his daughter.
"When i say that you'll be the death of me," he starts, patting his daughter on the head apologetically, then walking over to you and kissing your forehead, "it's not always hyperbolic. My blood pressure can attest to that."
And even then, he can't help but smile and shake his head indulgently.
────────────────── gyomei himejima
Admittedly, you were scared to even think about putting your daughter in the line of fire, but you know about Gyomei's soft spot for her, so you think it balances out. Even so, your body trembled from the difficulty of containing your laughter and the anticipation.
Gyomei notices this and calls out, "are you alright, my love? You’re shaking."
You wave your hand, making a small 'mm' sound in response. That gives him pause, but he turns back to the bookshelf in front of him with you on the forefront of his mind.
As you wash the dishes, you look over at your daughter on the couch, clutching the tv remote. "Have you hung the laundry yet, sweetheart? The sun will be setting soon—"
"Gosh, Mom, just shut up!"
You hear the slam of a book being shut and the thud of it being placed on the coffee table, before Gyomei passes by—not without kissing your temple—and heads straight towards your daughter. Your daughter, who is now trying to busy herself with the remote and avoid her father's eyes at all costs.
Gyomei stands in front of her, effectively blocking her view of the tv. His huge arms flex as he crosses them, his pale eyes piercing. "The laundry. Now."
Your daughter knows better than to respond with anything but a nod of her head. She gets up to comply, but he stops her with the clearing of his throat. She turns to face him again and he nods his head in your direction pointedly.
She swallows anxiously and mumbles a small, "sorry, Mom."
You smile and walk over to embrace her, just as Gyomei says, "I forbid such insolent attitude in this house, especially towards your mother."
Placing a gentle hand on his chest, you whisper, "it's a prank."
Gyomei relaxes a little at that—completely when your daughter nods her head to confirm. The two of you are then pulled into his strong arms and held against his chest. His hands smooth over your and your daughter's hair. "You girls are more trouble than I anticipate sometimes."
────────────────── kyojuro rengoku
"Shut up, Mom!" your son shouts from his room in response to you asking him to hoover the house. You caress the swell of your pregnant belly and waddle to the stairs, placing a hand on the railing to look up at your son's bedroom door.
He makes it sound so convincing that your first instinct is to yell right back, but you remember that this is all just a prank and reign your emotions in. "It'll only take a bit, an hour tops!" you call out, knowing full well that the house Kyojuro bought for you is not one that can be cleaned in 3 hours, let alone 1.
You feel a gentle hand on the small of your back and a tender kiss on your cheek. "I'll deal with him, sweetheart. Go relax," Kyojuro says quietly, his gaze soft but burdened with a steely resolve demanding discipline.
He heads upstairs with a very weak smile in comparison to what he usually adorns, and you can see his right eye twitch and the way his breaths are inhaled deeper.
You hear him enter your son's bedroom, who argues his case for a maximum of five seconds before it turns concerningly quiet. Your brows furrow and your mouth opens to ask if everything's okay, only to shut when you see your son trudge down the stairs, the back of his shirt held up by his father's tense grip.
Your breath catches in your throat.
"Honey, don't hurt the boy," you say with a sigh.
"He's lucky i'm not," Kyojuro says, more so growls.
"Dad, listen—"
Kyojuro tightens his grip so that the neckline of the boy's shirt is practically choking him. Your eyes widen imperceptibly and you follow them as your husband leads, well drags, your son to the storage closet. He shoves the hoover into his hands before taking him into the living room.
"Clean, boy. You'd do well to preserve your energy for something useful." The way Kyojuro's eyes flash dangerously has you giddy.
Yes, he's disciplining your son, but that's... well that's kinda it. His protectiveness is so attractive.
"It's a prank," your son mumbles. You run your hand up and down your belly, pursing your lips.
"That it is, but I'm not complaining about the result," you say, grinning at the sight of your son hoovering obediently. "Not that you wouldn't have done as I told you, right?"
Kyojuro has relaxed his tense posture somewhat, but at your question, stares at the young man expectantly.
Your son nods, mirroring your grin.
────────────────── tokito muichiro
As your son heads upstairs to shower and undoubtedly game for the next five hours, you shout, "make sure to do your homework!"
He groans—nice added touch to the performance—and stomps up the last few stairs. "I know, mom! Shut up about my damn homework!" you hear the bathroom door shut behind him shortly after.
It takes a minute for you to hear any movement from Tokito, who's washing the dishes, and even then you're unsure as to how he'd react. All you can do is watch as he turns off the tap and dries his hands, then casually walks over to the small door under the stairs. He pulls it open and flicks off the electricity supply to the bathroom, effectively cutting off all the hot water. He shuts the door and walks back to the sink without a word, turning the tap on again.
You wait with deviously bright eyes and pursed lips. Then, after about 30 seconds, you hear a yelp and dejected laugh from the bathroom. Your son scurries out with a towel around his waist and a pleading expression directed at you.
You're snickering now, impressed by Tokito's prompt response. When you make no move to tell your husband, your son glares and rushes downstairs to poke his head into the kitchen.
"Dad, it was a prank, I swear. I feel so gross right now and I just want a hot shower, pleeeeease."
"That was hilarious," you finally say, having to cover your mouth at your son's desperation. He glares at you again. "shut up," he laughs out, before realising his mistake. "N-no, I didn't mean it like that—Dad, wait!"
You watch Tokito turn the tap off again, dry his hands again, and walk after your son, who runs back upstairs. "He really didn't mean it like that—it was a prank anyway!" you call out after your silently seething husband, who gives you no response in return.
────────────────── iguro obanai
You and your son share a knowing glance before you commence your roles. "Did you get the groceries I told you to?"
"Uh... no."
You feign annoyance. "We need them for lunch. can't you go out and get them now?"
"Um, no, Mom. I'm tired. I'll probably just order some food anyway."
"Alright, well your father and I still need to eat—"
"Gosh, Mom, shut up! Just uber it or something."
The two of you fall silent then, waiting for something to happen. You glance over at your husband, who's reading on the couch and in the process of taking his reading glasses off to place them on the coffee table. Kaburamaru hisses, slithering around Obanai's neck until the majority of its body is leaning over his shoulder, facing your son.
"You ill-mannered brat," Obanai snarls, shooting up onto his feet and stalking towards the young man beside you. "I'll cut your disrespectful tongue out and shove it down your throat—"
"Woah, woah, c'mon Dad. It's just late now, y'know? I can have them delivered, from my own pocket too if—eek!" your son manages to rush out before scrambling away from the snake on his dad's shoulder. "Why does mom let you keep that thing—no, please! I'm sorry, dad! I'm sorry!"
Obanai's hand shoots out and grabs the neckline of the teenager's shirt, using the leverage to drag him out the living room and to the front door.
You're confused as to what Obanai intends to do until you see him pull the door open and fully try to drag the boy out under the rainy sky. He would have already succeeded in doing so if said boy wasn't clinging to the door for his life, laughing and pleading breathlessly to be let go.
"Look! Look behind you!" he screams, pointing at the shopping bags by the shoe rack. "I already bought everything Mom asked me to, t-this was just a prank! I swear—Mom, tell him!"
"So now you seek out your mother's kindness?" your husband hisses, mirroring the sound the reptile makes.
"No really, Iguro! It's a prank—bring the poor boy back in," you laugh, rushing over to help your son up, who dusts himself off once on his feet and points an accusatory finger at you.
Obanai growls at that, and he drops the finger immediately.
"I'm never agreeing to prank this man again, you hear me?" he says, placing his hands on your shoulders. "You sentenced me to death."
────────────────── shinazugawa sanemi
Pranking Sanemi promptly activates your fight or flight, which is why you're slightly tense as you lay your feet in his lap and scroll on your phone. His scarred hands rub your ankles and heels subconsciously and you try not to let the soothing ministrations distract you from the task at hand.
Your daughter has more to worry about, though. Sanemi has never raised and will never raise a hand to his daughter, but he doesn't need violence to intimidate or make a point.
"Hey, sweetie?" you coo, looking over at your daughter, "could you make me some tea?"
"Later, Mom," she sighs, scribbling something in her homework book.
"I'm sorry to ask, it won't take long—"
"Shut uuuup, Mom! I said later!" she yells, flinching when Sanemi carelessly throws his phone to the floor and turns his full, searing attention to the disrespectful young lady.
"Get your ass up and apologise. Homework or no, you do as your mother asks," he snaps, tense and coiled like a snake prepared to strike.
When she hesitates for a split second, he shouts, "now!"
You shake your head to stop her from obeying, curious to see where this will go when she doesn't. Anxious and somewhat reluctant (but equally curious), she keeps her mouth shut and turns back to her homework, essentially ignoring Sanemi's order.
A beat passes before Sanemi lets out a disbelieving laugh. "Oh, so you think you're too good for this family, huh?" he mutters, taking care to not hurt you when he removes your feet from his lap to place them on the couch, before launching to his feet.
He doesn't even take a step before you're grabbing his arm and your daughter is laughing from sheer panic. "It's a prank," the two of you say simultaneously, making Sanemi second-guess himself for one of the very few moments in his life.
His top lip curls up. "Hah?"
"She didn't actually mean it, we just wanted to see how you'd react," you explain, running your thumb along the veins on his forearm. "I swear."
"What?" he snarls in an equally confused tone, face flushing red at the fact that he just fell for your masterfully devised plan.
When you simply grin and tug him back down onto the couch, your feet quick to settle in his lap again, he leans his head in one hand while the other resumes its ministrations on your ankles. Your daughter takes the opportunity to gather her books and hurry out the living room, stopping to kiss her dad's temple apologetically, earning a grunt from him.
"I love you," you say, grin widening when he hesitates.
"Damn you, woman," he grumbles, leaning down to rest his head on your stomach. He huffs out a quiet laugh when you smack his shoulder in protest. "I love you too."
────────────────── kibutsuji muzan
Are you dumb? Why in the world would you think to prank this man? He's crushed skulls with a few flicks of his finger and slaughtered his own kind for the slightest display of insubordination—are you looking to sign your death warrant?
No, because Muzan (as much as he won't admit it) has a soft spot for you. Rightly so, considering he married you and has left you wanting for nothing ever since. That and the fact that there's a 16 year old kid of his living under his roof.
You had to execute this smartly and, more importantly, safely. He's never hit you or your daughter, but he's certainly not against locking them somewhere to discipline them—the last time he did that was when she was 3 and wouldn't take no for an answer regarding the pet she wanted. Because... a rat? really? Muzan would incinerate the creature at the slightest squeak.
Luckily, your daughter was strong-willed and wasn't sensitive in the slightest. That meant she developed zero trauma from the experience and did not grow up to hate her dad in the slightest.
Good. This should go well, then.
“Could you get the fire going in the living room?" you ask your daughter, who adopts her role immediately and rolls her eyes.
"We have servants for that, Mom."
"Need I remind you that the remaining two are busy cleaning the house?" Two instead of the initial twenty, because Muzan can't find the patience to tolerate anything from anyone. "Please?" you ask again.
"No."
"D/n-"
"No! Please just- shut up! Gosh," she huffs out, eyes already bright and curious to witness her father's reaction.
You turn back to the book you're reading and almost scream when you see Muzan standing to your left, your daughter still on your right.
"What was that?" he asks, voice smooth and low. You shiver at his tone, not from fear, but for a reason you'd explore later. "Insolence in such youth?"
He places a clawed hand on your head, not quite gently because his body is not accustomed to such, but soothingly. Enough to remind you who his anger was directed at.
"My spawn dare lash at her mother with such invective?" He sounds deceivingly calm, his hand leaving your head to stalk towards your daughter. "Well? Answer me, girl."
You see his claws extend and his veins protrude, almost disgustingly so. He's trembling from the self-control he's exerting to not do as he usually does and rip the offender's throat out. It's taking a toll on him psychologically, because you see the manic glint in his eye and the cruel curl of his lips.
Even at the sight of her father's enraged state, your daughter manages to stay standing and not plead for mercy at her father's feet.
"You forget your place. You are afforded no right to such speech. Cleanse the filth from your tongue and apologise at once.”
It is then that your daughter sees the emotion in her father's eyes—he was undoubtedly willing to murder her if she persisted. She wishes she could photograph the sight to show you the next time you doubt his love for obsession with you.
"Sorry, Mom."
"It's alright, sweetie."
Muzan calms then, claws still extended and veins still pulsing. His body remains much too tense, even as he turns to pat your head again and pull you to his chest, looking over his shoulder to glare at his daughter.
His face immediately goes redder, the steam of the hot springs disguising it slightly as if he were just warm. Giyu stays silent, as he was quite surprised to find you still here.
As you sigh happily, relaxing into the steaming water, you finally notice your fellow Hashira and give him that signature cute smile of yours, which never fails to make Giyu’s heart stammer.
“Giyu! Sorry, am I intruding on your bath time?” You asked while making your way towards him; it was almost comical how shy the man had gotten once you got closer.
Not wanting him to feel uncomfortable, you were about to leave until he shook his head after seemingly collecting his cool. “No, it’s fine. You had a long day; I don’t mind you staying.”
You smiled at this and thanked him, causing the water pillar to look away in an effort to not further fluster himself around you.
While relaxing with him, he’d steal a couple of glances at you, admiring your calm features, your damp hair, and your flushed cheeks.
You decided to make some small talk where you asked him how his day was, which then led to both of you chatting with one another.
Sighing happily, you decided it was time to wash up and jokingly offered Giyu if he wanted to join, and to your surprise, he did.
Stepping into the wash area, he tries to act like he isn’t surprised or flustered, but with the warmth spreading across his cheeks and his half-lidded eyes as he watches you rinse off the soap, it's pretty damn obvious.
Seeing that he was a bit nervous, you decided to ask him to wash your hair. He’s happy to oblige and enjoys how adorable you are with him.
If you enjoy humming/singing in the shower, he will happily listen to your voice and will sometimes hum along with you while scrubbing your back.
When washing his hair, he likes when you’re in front of him since he gets to put his hands on your waist as you do so. He just likes holding you, y’know? <3
While you're soaking under the water, he likes resting his chin on either your shoulder or head while wrapping his arms around you; he finds it rather calming.
Please kiss him while he holds you; he’ll give you a sly smile before kissing you back.
𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾:
While scrubbing his back, he feels himself harden at your touch. Giyu hated himself for that, for thinking such sinfully dirty thoughts about you.
He shuts his eyes to concentrate, brows furrowed as he hopes his towel covers his aching cock.
He thanks God that he isn’t facing you; if not, he’d consider drowning himself in the water LMAO.
Desperately tries shaking away the thoughts of just pushing you up against the edge of the hot spring and grinding his cock against your slick folds.
He then shudders when he hears your sweet voice tease him while your hands dip down to grasp his cock. All hard and throbbing from being neglected.
“Want me to wash here, Giyu?” He couldn’t help but nod, and that’s where he found himself, sitting on the edge of the hot spring with you between his thighs.
His dark blue eyes were half-lidded, his breath hollow as he watched your soft lips kiss and tease his cock head.
Your tongue swirling around his pretty tip and making sure he’s all “clean.”
He’s so enthralled by the sight he didn’t even notice his hand gripping your hair and guiding your head to go deeper.
You happily sucked him off, your hand grasping his balls lightly to encourage him to cum. Lifting his hips a bit as he fucked your face, he let out a whine.
Surely you felt like your ears were tricking you, but God, hearing a man so quiet yet sounding so needy was such a beautiful sound.
You pulled away from his cock and jerked him off, his hot seed spilling onto your tits and hand. Giyu gasped for air, and you swear you saw tiny hearts in his eyes.
You could only giggle as you watched his cock harden again after he saw you scoop some of his cum with a dainty finger and taste it.
“Since you got me dirty, I think it’s your turn to clean me.” You hum as you sit on the edge of the spring, spreading your legs to show your arousal.
Of course he’d happily return the favour, dipping down between your thighs and dragging his hot tongue against your slit. <3
𝑲𝒚𝒐𝒋𝒖𝒓𝒐 𝑹𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒐𝒌𝒖
𝑺𝑭𝑾:
Both you and Kyojuro often paired up together during missions, and after one exhausting journey, the two of you find yourselves staying at a village’s hot spring.
You were already soaking in the water, your back pressed against the stone edge while relaxing. Your shoulders and back aching from being thrown around by a demon.
Moments later you hear a few footsteps approaching you; it was Kyojuro looking at you with his fiery eyes and his usual smile.
You’ve always wondered how he managed to stay upbeat even after tiring himself out during missions but was happy he was in a good mood.
You offered him to sit beside you, and he gladly accepted it, his broad shoulder pressed against you while you relaxed once again.
Oh, how pretty you looked, Kyojuro thought. The faint blush on your face due to the steam of the room made the fire pillar himself get a bit hotter too.
He’d always admired how beautiful you looked; even when you were tired, he couldn’t help but enjoy the sight, a warm feeling tugging at his chest.
Kyojuro watches as you roll your shoulders, wincing a bit. You swear you saw his lips twitch into a frown as he saw you in pain; oh, how the man cared for you.
“(Y/N), let me help you.” Kyojuro offers to massage your back, which you can't deny. As your back faces him, he brings his hands to your shoulders, rubbing them nicely.
His hands skillfully press against your aching muscles in your back and shoulders. He wanted you to feel good; you’ve helped him greatly during the mission, and this was the least he could do to ease your pain.
“Feels good, Kyo…” You mumble, and the fire pillar’s face burns brighter than his breathing technique. Oh, how he loved it whenever you called him that, so sweet with that voice of yours.
As the massage continued, he offered to help wash your back, and he happily took care of you. Carefully guiding the soap along your skin.
His hands were rough from the calluses from all his training, yet his touch was gentle, wanting to comfort you from the stress of the day.
“Relax, (Y/N). You deserve it.” He’d say softly as he caressed and washed you delicately, eyes noting how good you were at holding up after such a long mission.
𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾:
As he continues to massage you, he feels his hands slowly moving down to your hips, giving you a soft squeeze as he brushes his lips to your shoulder.
“(Y/N)…” He’d mumble as he guides his hand to your wet core, rubbing your puffy clit as his other hand gropes your breast. “Let me take care of you…”
As you relax against him, you feel his skilled fingers teasing and brushing against your folds. “So delicate…” He’d mumble while kissing your neck.
Your pleasure was his pleasure; every moan and whimper coming from your lips made his heart aflame and his cock throb.
He then slips a finger inside you; he groans a bit at how warm and wet you are, so flattered and proud of how he is making you feel with just his fingers.
His other hand gropes your tit, rolling the sensitive bud while his other hand focuses on pumping his fingers inside you.
With every thrust of his thick fingers, you could feel the slow grind of his hips, his now leaking cock throbbing against your ass.
Being the sweet Hashira he is, he didn’t care for his own needs, only seeking your pleasure as he continued to play with your slick pussy, his fingers coated with your essence.
He definitely makes a mental note to eat you out properly later, wanting your sweetness to coat his tongue and chin.
As you get closer to your orgasm, he’d lean his head down to kiss you, his mouth swallowing up your delightful moans.
As you cum, he’d rub your clit lovingly, wanting to comfort you from your high as he rubs his nose against the crook of your neck. “Good job, you did so well today.”
𝑻𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒏 𝑼𝒛𝒖𝒊
𝑺𝑭𝑾:
Oh, this man is living for it—hot springs and you? He’s in his element.
Loves watching you relax—he finds it incredibly attractive when you let your guard down around him.
He has so much respect for you as a Hashira, and seeing you relax tugs at his heartstrings a bit since he knows how much effort you put into your work.
After joining you in the water, he’ll immediately stretch, flex, and make sure you see how flashy he looks before teasing, “Enjoying the view?” He’d ask with a shit-eating grin.
When he catches you getting flustered, he’ll be all over you, teasing you about how you should get a closer look.
He definitely suggests a massage, offering to rub your shoulders. But when his hands move lower, he gives a cheeky grin and chuckles, “Oops, my hands slipped.”
Despite his teasing, he does want you to relax; his hands smooth out any knots and aches in your neck and back, massaging out the soreness from the day.
But don’t expect the massage to be for free, though; this man will then plop down in front of you and ask you to return the favour.
He’d groan and relax against your touch, and the things he says can either be used for asking for a massage or dirty scenarios.
“Shit… That feels good; squeeze a bit harder.” He’d groan, tilting his head to the side as you smooth out the knot near his shoulders and neck. See, he meant his shoulders, LMAO.
He does appreciate your touch greatly, though; your soft hands in contrast to his hard muscles felt just too perfect.
He might get a bit sleepy and lean back just a bit, so be careful, or this 6’6 giant might topple you over.
“Mm… Thank you, (Y/N)… You know, you’d make a great wife.” He’d mumble as he relaxes beside you after the massage.
𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾:
After realizing what he said, Tengen would look at you, and it was either what he said or the steam of the hot springs that had gotten you all flushed.
Just seeing you that way got him thinking about what it would be like to make you flush in a different way…
That’s where you find yourself holding onto the edge of the hot spring; you’re bent over and SMACK! You feel a sharp slap against your bottom.
Tengen smirks as he hears your struggle to keep your voice down; his hands grip onto your hips, and you hear the water splash a bit behind you as he gets in position, his face next to your heat.
“You’re dripping, so beautiful.” He’d say, almost just to himself, before he leans in, his nose brushing against your slick while his lips wrap around your clit.
As you cover your mouth with your hands, hoping to not catch any unwanted attention, that doesn’t stop the sound of Tengen’s own moans.
“Mmph... tastes so sweet.” He’d groan against your core as he continues to eat your pussy from behind, his grip on your hips still strong and tight, not giving you any chance to slip away from him.
After lapping his tongue along your folds one last time, he stood up; his impatient body towered over you.
Grabbing you by the waist firmly you looked over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of him, his body chiseled with strong muscles and you felt yourself drool a bit as you saw some water dripping down his body.
He grabbed the base of his cock, all thick with some heavy balls that you know will slap against your clit. Giving it a few pumps he rubs his tip against your folds.
He groans as he pushes in, his cock filling your pussy up perfectly. He gives you a moment to adjust to his size as he leans down to kiss your neck and cup your breast.
“So goddamn perfect..” He’d mumble before rutting into you, his cock deliciously hitting your sweet spot and his heavy balls slapping against your clit.
With every thrust of his strong hips you felt yourself nearing the edge, your pussy tightening up and getting slicker around his thick cock.
After coming down from both of your highs, he’d pull out of you slowly, and despite rocking your world just a moment ago, he’d gently help you clean up.
(hi guys.... I'm back after like...almost a year or so..IM ALIVE, I know I keep saying I'll post more but I've been getting really busy, but I do wish to post more, I might start posting again if I feel like it but yeah. hopefully this writing was good, it was kind of some late night imagines stuff. I hope to finish up some requests soon so thank you for everyone's patience! ILY!)
˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀ you ask what their favorite position is. they show you instead.
ft. sanemi, giyu, tengen, rengoku, gyomei, & obanai.
tw: explicit sexual content, oral sex (f. receiving), face-sitting, praise kink, dom/sub dynamics, rough sex, impact play (spanking), restraint, creampie, overstimulation, possessive language, body worship, size kink, breeding implications, unprotected sex, canon universe
1K FOLLOWERS SPECIAL !! based off these results: POLL
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❥ GIYU — face sitting/cowgirl
His breath fans over your cunt in hot, reverent bursts, tongue still buried deep between your folds.
“Don’t move." He murmurs against your heat.
And you try. You really fucking try.
But your thighs are trembling where they frame his face, and your fingers twitch helplessly against the wall - grabbing for something, anything, to ground yourself as his tongue slides in deeper, slower, fucking up into you with that quiet, focused rhythm. His nose bumps your clit with every pass of his mouth and it’s too much. Your hips roll forward on instinct.
You curse under your breath, and your hands fly to his hair - fisting it, holding on.
This all started after one quiet question between kisses.
“What’s your favorite position… for sex?”
And this - this - was his answer.
He laid back, calm as ever, and motioned for you to climb his chest. Higher. Until your knees settled on either side of his head. And when you hesitated, when you hovered like you didn’t want to crush him, he looked up at you - serious.
“Sit. All the way.”
His answer wasn’t just words. It was in the tension of his forearms as they locked tight around your thighs. In the way his hands gripped your ass and pulled you down harder onto his mouth. It was in the way he groaned like the weight of you was something holy. Like he’d starve if you lifted off even for a second.
His hips shift beneath you - just barely - but you feel it. The strain. The ache. His cock is hard under you, untouched and leaking against his stomach.
And still, he doesn’t reach for it.
He doesn't want anything else.
Just this.
Just you.
The slick mess of your cunt grinding slow on his tongue, the way you rock into his mouth like it’s instinct, like you were made to fall apart like this on top of him. And all he does is take it. All of it. Over and over again - groaning like he lives for it, hands worshipful, letting you use him until you can’t remember the question that started it in the first place.
You rock your hips slowly, breath catching every time he sucks, every time he flattens his tongue and moans against you. His eyes flutter open - just for a moment - and lock on yours.
And fuck, it’s hot. That look.
You’re not sure how much longer you can take it.
Eventually - after your voice turns high and shaky, after your thighs start to give out, after your cunt clenches so hard around nothing it makes you whine - you pull yourself off him. Giyu follows with his mouth for a second, reluctant to let you go, his tongue still chasing you until he finally drops back against the futon, lips glistening, eyes half-lidded.
His cock is flushed and leaking, resting heavy against his stomach. You reach for it slowly. Deliberate. Fingers curling around the thick base, and the way he groans through his teeth almost makes you smile.
He thrusts into your palm once - instinctive, needy. But then you shift so you can slide down and sink onto him. Your cunt grips around him so tight it knocks the breath from both your lungs.
You ride him slow at first. Deep rolls of your hips. Using his body for leverage, palms planted flat against his chest. Giyu’s hands trace up your thighs, your waist, your tits - everywhere at once, like he can’t decide where he wants to hold you most.
He fucks up into you with every bounce, hips snapping to meet yours until your rhythm starts to fall apart, your legs shaking again as you collapse forward with a gasp.
But he catches you.
Takes over without a word.
One arm winds tight around your waist, holding you flush against him. The other tangles in your hair, dragging your mouth down to his. He kisses you - wet with your taste, all tongue and heat - and then fucks into you deeper, harder.
You whimper through it, moaning loud, forehead pressed to his.
He groans at the contact. At the slick heat dripping down his cock every time he drives in. At the way you tremble in his arms like you’re falling apart all over again.
“Giyu…” You whine, high and broken, “Giyu, please...I’m gonna-”
“Go ahead." He murmurs, voice low.
Your whole body locks up, cunt pulsing hard around him as your orgasm rips through you. You sob his name, fingers clawing at his chest, and he groans the second you clamp down around him.
His hips stutter.
Then he’s gone.
Burying himself deep one last time as he spills inside you, his face tucked against your throat.
For a long while, the room stays quiet.
Just the rush of blood in your ears, the warmth of his skin against yours, and the slow drag of his hand up and down your back.
You rest your cheek on his chest, just above the rapid beat of his heart. Still racing.
You close your eyes. Breathe.
And then - barely there - you hear him hum.
A small, amused sound.
You tilt your head, cheek still pressed against his chest. “Hm?”
Giyu shifts just a little, his arm tightening around your waist, the other hand settling again between your shoulder blades.
“Those two.” He says, voice hoarse but soft. “That. And the first one.”
You laugh, quietly. You drop your head to his chest again, your lips brushing his skin.
And when you glance up, he’s smirking. Just barely.
Licking his lips.
They still taste like you.
────୨୧────
❥ SANEMI — doggy
You don’t even get the words out.
Because he’s already got your cheek smashed into the futon, one hand flat between your shoulder blades, the other twisting your wrists behind your back like he’s restraining a demon.
Except it’s you. Gasping into the fabric, back arching on instinct, while Sanemi kisses and sucks a slow line down your spine.
“Ask me dumbass questions...." He mutters, voice low and way too amused.
His hips roll once, slow, cock dragging thick between your thighs, the blunt head nudging your soaked folds just enough to knock the breath out of you.
“See where it gets you.”
He thrusts in the next second - no warning - just that bruising grip on your wrists and the brutal snap of his hips slamming deep, stealing the air from your lungs.
“That what you wanted?” He growls. “Wanted it like this? Bent over? Whining the second I shove my cock in?”
You nod, a broken little whimper catching in your throat.
“You ask questions like that…” He pants. “Then feel the fuckin’ answer.”
Your breath hitches when he hauls you back by the hips, cock punching in so deep your stomach clenches. His grip is iron at your waist now, fingers digging into your skin.
“Face down, ass up. Shit, look at you.”
He laughs, the sound wrecked. Your knees slip wider on the futon, thighs trembling. He feels it—feels the way you shake—and sinks deeper just to hear the way your moan breaks.
“That’s it." He breathes, voice dropping as his hips grind deep. “That’s how I like you.”
Then he snaps back into rhythm, hard, sharp thrusts that leave you gasping, face buried in the blankets.
Sanemi leans over again - chest pressed to your back, one hand still pinning your wrists, the other sliding up along your ribs, warm and rough.
“I’m thinkin’ this is your favorite too.” He kisses the side of your neck.
He grinds in again - slow, balls tight against your slick folds - before pulling out halfway and slamming back in. The slap of skin echoes sharp. You jolt.
“You feel that? Feel how deep I am?”
You nod again, panting something into the futon, barely coherent.
Sanemi hums.
His hands grip your hips like handles, dragging you back into every snap of his cock, each thrust hammering into you hard enough to blur your vision. You’re drooling now, face down, eyes glassy.
“Tell me this is your favorite.” He groans. “Say it.”
You try. You really do. But all you manage is a whimper, drool slipping from the corner of your lips as your eyes roll back.
Sanemi groans when he sees it.
“Good enough of an answer.”
Then he sits back on his heels behind you. One hand drags firm down your back. The other slaps your ass hard - sting sharp and blooming - before kneading it almost sweetly.
You don’t get a second to recover.
He slams back in, stealing your breath all over again as he fucks you with dizzying force. Fucking you like he’s lost it. Like he doesn’t care who hears. Which, you're sure the entire estate can.
Sanemi groans through his teeth, panting curses into your skin, thrusts hitting so hard the futon shifts under your knees.
“That’s it.” He pants, voice breaking. “Atta girl.”
Another slap to your ass. Then both hands grab you there, spreading and holding, as he drills into you deep, fast, loud.
You don’t remember your name. You don’t remember how to breathe.
He’s close. You can feel it. His rhythm falters - hips stuttering - as he pounds into you like he’s trying to fuck himself into your body forever.
You sob beneath him, body twitching, and he slams in one last time - deep, flush, buried to the base - and groans, loud and ragged, as he spills inside you.
You swear you feel it flood you. Hot. Thick,
His hips jerk in little aftershocks, cock twitching as he breathes sharp through his teeth, still pulsing inside you, riding it out slow.
And then, finally, he lets go.
One hand falls from your hip. The other drags up your back before settling between your shoulder blades, steadying himself.
He leans forward, his chest warm and heavy against your spine, his weight pressing you into the futon.
He shifts just enough not to crush you, arms curling around your sides, caging you in.
You feel his heart hammering against your ribs. His breath hot and ragged in your ear.
And then - soft.
His lips press to the back of your neck. Gentle. Warm. Another kiss at your shoulder. Another, slower, right where your spine curves.
“Still with me?” He mutters, voice hoarse.
You nod.
Sanemi exhales hard through his nose.
“That answer your question?”
You nod again.
────୨୧────
❥ TENGEN — reverse cowgirl/full nelson
He says it like a dare.
“Climb up, turn around, and I’ll answer.”
So you do. Knees planted on either side of his thighs, your back to him, hands braced on his knees as you sink down slow. Deep. Wet enough that every drag of his cock sounds obscene.
Tengen’s palms slide down your waist, gripping hard.
“That’s it, baby." He murmurs, a grin curling his lips. “Show it off.”
Your hips roll again - slow, deliberate. You don’t bounce. Not yet. Just grind down, letting him fill you, savoring the way he throbs inside you. The heat. The stretch. The solid strength of his thighs caged under yours, his cock hitting every perfect spot even with the laziest rhythm.
It’s so fucking good it makes you gasp - and that sound? That soft, breathless moan? It makes his fingers dig into your hips like he’s barely holding back.
“You like that?” He chuckles. “Needy little thing. Fucking yourself on me like that.”
You shift your weight, ready to ride him harder -
But that’s all it takes.
He moves fast.
One arm snakes under yours. Then the other. And before you can suck in a breath, he’s locking his hands behind your neck - full nelson deep - pulling your arms up, arching your back, holding you wide open in his lap while his cock splits you in half from below.
You choke on a gasp, tits bouncing with the first brutal thrust.
He buries himself deeper - some-fucking-how - and locks you there, chest to your back, hips slamming up into you with dizzying, relentless force.
“Yeah.” He groans, breath hot at your ear. “That’s more like it.”
You’re already gone. Mouth open, no words, just moans. Just helpless, messy little whines as he fucks you from beneath, arms trapping yours, cock pounding up like he’s trying to reach your fucking heart.
“There we go." He grunts, pace unshaken. “Taking it so well. Fuck - sweet girl.”
The muscles in his arms flex as he pulls you tighter, deeper, bending your body like it’s his to command. Sweat drips down his chest. His breath stutters every time your cunt clenches tight around him.
You feel it building.
That burn in your belly. That flutter. Your thighs tremble, your whole body twitching.
“Lord…Lord Tengen…” you whimper.
“Hm?” He hums, low and amused. “Go on, little gem. Tell me.”
“I’m...I’m gonna - Lord Tengen, I’m gonna come-”
“Mmm.” He smirks, so goddamn pleased. “Then rub that needy little bundle for me. Be a good girl, get yourself there.”
You don’t hesitate.
One shaking hand slips between your thighs, fingers pressing hard to your clit - and the jolt almost knocks the breath from your lungs. You circle it fast, tight, the way he likes. Chasing the edge while his cock hammers into you.
Tengen groans when he feels your walls start to flutter. His rhythm stutters - just for a beat - before slamming even harder.
“There you go." He growls. “Good girl.”
His arms flex again. One more thrust and your fingers stutter on your clit. Your thighs jerk. Your mouth drops open on a sob as your orgasm crashes through you.
You convulse in his lap, whimpering his name, legs trembling so hard you’d collapse - if he wasn’t holding you this tight.
Tengen loses it.
He groans through clenched teeth, deep and guttural, fucking you with short, brutal thrusts as your cunt clenches around him again and again. His head drops to your shoulder, voice breaking as he comes inside you.
And then - through the stuttering drag of his hips as he fucks every last drop into you...
“This one." He pants, ragged. “This position…”
Another thrust. Another moan.
“…is my favorite.”
────୨୧────
❥ RENGOKU — missionary
You ask him quietly.
Just a breath of a question. Half-embarrassed, your lips brushing his throat as you tug him closer beneath the covers.
“What’s your favorite…way? To have me.”
His arm tightens around your waist. He pulls back to look at you, golden eyes soft, warm, filled with something wordless and deep.
And then he smiles. Slow. Sure. Like he already knows his answer.
“I’ll show you." He says.
And he does.
With care. With patience. With the kind of aching tenderness that makes you ache.
He eases you onto your back, body covering yours, mouth brushing your forehead, your cheek, your collarbone. One hand curls around your waist, the other cradling your jaw.
“I like when I can see you." He murmurs, kissing the corner of your lips. “When you fall apart.”
It starts slow.
A kiss - soft, lingering. His tongue barely brushes yours, dragging the moment out until you’re squirming beneath him, fingers curling into his biceps. And when he finally pushes into you, it’s with a tenderness that borders on unbearable - hips rolling slow, cock sinking deep, drawing you open in thick, aching inches.
And fuck, you feel everything.
Every throb. Every drag.
The heat of him - always burning - like he runs hotter than anyone else, like the fire in him doesn’t quiet even here, even like this. He pulses thick against your walls with every deep grind, and you moan, barely able to take it.
“So good, my flame." He whispers, forehead pressed to yours. “You feel so good.”
You’re already clinging - legs wrapped tight around his waist like you need to pull him deeper, hold him closer. He groans at the desperation in it, hips faltering just for a second before he steadies again.
He doesn’t rush.
His palm stays at your cheek, thumb stroking soft beneath your eye, guiding your gaze back to his every time it slips.
“Stay with me." He murmurs. “Let me see you.”
Rengoku shifts - just slightly - angling his hips, rolling deeper. You gasp, head tipping back as he presses into you with dizzying precision. So deep your toes curl. So thick and hot you swear you feel his heartbeat in every thrust.
His other hand slips between your bodies, fingers circling your clit - gentle, focused, steady. Drawing gasps from your lips, soft and desperate.
“You first." He breathes. “I want you to come first.”
You try to hold onto it, but he doesn’t let you. He fucks you through every twitch and shiver, every broken sound that slips from your mouth as his fingers coax you over the edge.
You come with your legs locked around him, mouth open, eyes wide and wet, rolling back as your cunt clenches tight around his cock.
He groans when he feels it.
“Beautiful." He pants. “So beautiful. Every time.”
But he still doesn’t let go. Even as your body slackens. Even as your moans soften and your breath stutters. He stays close. Stays deep.
You feel every twitch of him, every slow grind - his cock still pulsing thick inside you, like it belongs there. Like he needs to stay buried just to keep breathing.
And then - when you’re trembling under him, still fluttering - he starts to chase his own.
It’s messy. Sloppy.
His thrusts get harder, deeper. His chest sticks to yours with sweat. His lips find your neck, your cheek, your jaw. Again and again, like he can’t stop.
You pant his name, dazed, soft - fingers curling in his hair as his rhythm falls apart.
And then he groans. He presses deep, hips flush, cock buried to the base - and spills inside you with his mouth still on your skin.
You feel all of it.
The way he fills you up so completely it almost aches, warm and thick and everywhere. His body melts against yours... and he kisses you like it’s the first time.
Every time.
Then you manage a weak smile.
“I like that answer.”
────୨୧────
❥ OBANAI — missionary / seashell
He says it just before he sinks into you.
Quiet. Commanding. A thread pulled taut.
His voice stays low - steady and soft - breath ghosting across your lips as his body settles over yours. His hips align with yours. His cock presses in slow. Your thighs tremble where they’re hooked high around his waist.
“Don’t look away from me.”
And you don’t.
You can’t.
Not with the way he’s staring down at you - eyes locked to yours. His hands frame your face, thumbs stroking gently at your cheeks, and even as he starts to move - deep, deliberate - he never looks away.
Every breath you take is his. Every moan. Every stuttered gasp you try to bite back. The way your lashes flutter, the way your lips tremble when you try to hold in a sound - he sees it all.
And he loves it.
The softness in you. The raw, unfiltered honesty you give him like this. You’re so real like this. So open.
And Obanai drinks it in like it’s the only thing keeping him alive.
He leans down, mouth brushing your shoulder for a single soft kiss before he pulls back, just to see you again. To watch your chest rise, to catch that hitch in your throat. His hips grind in with slow, perfect pressure that makes your whole body jolt.
You whimper his name.
Your legs fall open wider, searching. You cling to him - wrists, shoulders, anything you can grab. That’s when he shifts.
He pulls back. Just far enough to hook your knees over his forearms - folding you up beneath him, bent open , thighs pressed high to your chest.
And fuck, he loves you like this.
Loves the way you let him bend you. Open you. Own you.
Your breath catches. Your fingers scramble for something solid - but then he thrusts in. Deep. Bottoms out.
And stays there.
Just breathes.
Just watches.
The stretch makes your head spin. The heat of him, the weight, the pulsing throb buried so deep inside you - it’s too much.
Still, he doesn’t speak.
Just holds you there, hips locked tight to yours as he fights to keep control.
And then - finally - he moves.
Slow at first. Grinding into you with a bruising, perfect drag. Eyes never leaving yours. Then deeper. Harder. The snap of his hips steals the air from your lungs.
Your eyes flutter.
His grip tightens.
“Mine.” It slips out.
“Mine.” Again, when your mouth drops open around a broken moan.
“Mine.” When your hands tremble, when your thighs jerk, when you try to close your eyes -
“Don’t.” He pants. “Don’t look away.”
And you don’t.
Not when his cock is driving into you this deep. Not when he’s got you bent up tight beneath him, folded as he pounds into you with brutal precision. Not when he looks at you like this.
Like you belong to him.
His voice stays low, steady and sharp, rhythm syncing with the litany that slips from his mouth like prayer…
Mine.
Mine.
Mine.
It builds between you - fast, hot, overwhelming. The pressure coils deep in your belly. Your thighs start to shake. He feels it, hears the way your breath catches, the way your eyes glaze.
And he groans, because he’s right there too.
Your hips jerk up against his. Your mouth opens in a choked sob.
“Obanai….I’m-“
He thrusts hard.
“Together.” He hums. “Come with me.”
Everything unravels at once. Your back arches hard, voice cracking as your orgasm crashes over you - tight, blinding, endless. Your cunt clenches around him so violently it punches a curse from his throat, and then…
He follows. Groaning. Shaking. Burying himself to the hilt as he spills deep inside you, cock twitching thick with every pulse. His arms cage you. His mouth presses to yours - rough and sweet all at once.
He doesn’t stop kissing you. Even as he softens inside you, still deep, still bent over your body like it’s the only place he belongs.
And when he finally pulls back to breathe - he whispers it again, one last time.
“Mine.”
And you nod, dazed, hands still clutching his wrists where they pinned you open.
────୨୧────
❥ GYOMEI — spooning / missionary
It was an innocent question really. Asked by you right when you two settled into your shared futon.
“What’s your favorite way? To have me.”
And Gyomei had gone still. Quiet.
Then -
His arms wrapped tighter around you. And he pressed his lips to your temple, so soft, so certain, as he whispered:
“This.”
Now, his cock is buried to the hilt, your body shaking from the stretch, your thighs quaking where they press against his.
And still he asks -
“Is this alright?”
You nod. You whimper. You breathe out his name like it’s the only word you’ve ever known.
Because this is so much. So big. So full. So gentle.
So him.
You’re on your side, curled tight into him. His chest is pressed flush to your back, one massive arm wrapped firm around your middle, the other cradling your shoulders, hand resting heavy over your heart like a shield.
He holds you completely.
There’s no room to fall. No space to drift. Only warmth. Only safety. Only the slow, aching grind of his hips as he moves inside you with a patience that borders on devotion.
He’d told you this was his favorite.
Because it feels good. Because he loves the closeness. But more than that - because it’s what makes it easiest for you. What helps your body take him. What lets you stay relaxed, safe, soft and open, even with how much of him there is to handle.
And it shows - in every slow, careful thrust. Every pass of his palm over your belly. Every breathless murmur in your ear as you twitch from the stretch of him.
“You’re doing so well.” He murmurs, lips brushing your ear. “So good for me.”
One hand drifts lower - spreads wide over the soft swell of your belly, grounding you.
“Right here.” He says softly, palm pressing just enough to feel the way he’s moving inside you. “I can feel how perfect you are. How much you take me.”
You clench. Shudder.
And Gyomei groans - full-bodied and low. But still, he keeps it slow.
Keeps you held.
He fucks you like that until your moans turn breathless, until your muscles twitch beneath his hands, until you can barely breathe from how overwhelmed you are.
Only then does he ease you down.
He shifts gently, laying you flat on the mattress. He props your knees up, hooks his arms beneath them, and folds you open without force - just quiet, patient strength.
His body covers yours again - never heavy. Just steady. Grounding.
His forehead brushes yours. His chest heaves.
When he sinks back in, slow and deep, you see it. That look on his face like you’ve just given him the sun.
His hand finds yours - no hesitation. He laces your fingers together tight, presses them above your head, like it’s a prayer. Like you’re his altar.
“You feel so good,” he breathes, his hips rolling deep. “I love this position.”
His lips find your cheek. Your jaw. The corner of your mouth.
And then, so soft it’s nearly a secret -
“Thank you.”
A pause. Another kiss.
“Thank you for letting me love you.”
And again, quieter -
“Thank you for letting me have you.”
That’s what breaks you. The way he means it.
Like your body is a gift. Like he’s grateful for every second inside you. Like this - you - is something he’ll never stop treasuring.
And when you come, it’s all of that at once. Your cunt pulsing around him as you sob his name into the air between you.
Gyomei’s breath catches.
And then he follows.
With a groan that shudders through him, with his cock buried deep, with his lips still at your cheek and his arms still wrapped around you like he’s trying to hold the whole moment still.
giyuu tomioka goes all silent-shame mode, tugging his haori up if he has even the faintest bite. yet he leaves deep purple marks on your skin, especially where only he can see them. total quiet hypocrite.
rengoku kyojuro laughs nervously if there’s a hickie on him. “ah! how bold of you!” but then? your poor throat and chest are a wildfire of teeth and lips. he’s unapologetically intense but acts embarrassed about himself.
tengen uzui gasps, “unflashy!! i can’t walk around looking like this!” whines about a single bruise. but your whole body? covered in hickies because he thinks it’s so flamboyant to mark you everywhere.
sanemi shinazugawa snarls if you mark him. “the hell are you tryin’ to prove?!” but he bites into your skin like a rabid dog, leaving massive bruises that last forever. pure double standard.
kokushibo scoffs at the idea of being marked. “pathetic.” yet he bites slow and mean, leaving marks that look like burns. total contradiction, total menace.
