Kento sleeping on the sofa seems to be a sign that attracts his children with him...
✦ ⎯⎯ㅤִㅤ୭ ୨♡୧ ৎㅤִ ⎯⎯ ✦
Kento comes home tired, with that quiet exhaustion that doesn’t complain. He takes off his watch, carefully folds his jacket, and almost without realizing it, ends up lying face down on the couch, one arm hanging loose, his breathing deep and steady. He didn’t plan to fall asleep… but his body decides for him.
And as if it were an unwritten law, the children feel it.
The oldest arrives first, the boy. He already understands that dad needs to rest, so he doesn’t wake him. He sits carefully on the floor beside Kento’s head, his back against the couch. He pulls out a book or a quiet toy. Sometimes, without thinking, he rests his hand over Kento’s, like an anchor.
Then the girls arrive. One by one.
One climbs onto his back with extreme care, as if stepping onto sacred ground. She settles between his shoulder blades, using her father as a warm mattress. Another curls up at his side, her cheek against his shoulder. The youngest tries to copy the others and ends up half on top of him, half sideways, breathing slowly.
Kento doesn’t move, he only lets out a deeper sigh. Because even asleep, he knows. He knows his children are there. He knows they trust him without question.
And his body, large and steady, becomes what it has always been for them: a refuge.
Sometimes he murmurs something in his sleep.
A barely audible “It’s okay.”
A name. No one startles. No one moves.
Because dad is there.
And you watch them from the doorway, your chest tight with love, seeing how your four children gather around Kento as if he were the center of the world. And maybe he is.
Because to them, Kento Nanami is not just their father. He is warmth. He is safety. He is the place where the world stops hurting.
And when he wakes up, his body stiff, one girl asleep on his back, another holding his arm, the oldest still at his side…
⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ husband!nanami and the alluring things he does
tags. suggestive. nsfw. smut (not explicit?). married life. established relationship. soft!nanami. domestic bliss. gentle. ⋮ author's note. went from 'attractive things he does' to 'alluring things he does' and although i think i kind of like this i can't reread it again because i'm genuinely going to cringe, i've never written anything like this before LMAO, it's SO out of my comfort zone oh my days ⋮ word count. 1.0k
Husband!Nanami who always, time and time again, makes sure to get your consent in a verbal way before continuing whatever he's started. It doesn't matter to him if he's been married to you for half a decade or that he knows you'll constantly say yes to certain things.
It’s a husky, “Tell me to slow down and I will, honey,” here. And a firm, “Are you all right?” there. It’s his eyes flickering up to catch the expressions on your face, especially when something new is involved, and if he catches even a trace of doubt, he’ll stop.
Husband!Nanami who, despite trying his best to stay composed, always looks like a complete mess after a make-out session. Bottom lip shining with the slightest hint of saliva on it—or your lip gloss, you're not entirely sure, and neither is he—until he swipes his tongue over it.
Blond hair messy, the short strands disorganised and dishevelled because you've been running your fingers through it for the last fifteen minutes. Hazel eyes focused on your face with a horrifying type of intensity, pupils slowly dilating, chest rising and falling in a restless, uneven pace, meanwhile his fingers twitch from where they're holding onto your waist.
Husband!Nanami who can't help but place a mirror near your shared bed and make love to you in front of it. His devoted eyes stay entirely focused on yours, never wavering, not even thinking about glancing away in case he might miss a single facial expression you make. One hand stays entwined with yours, squeezing when it gets too much, kisses being placed on the smooth skin of your shoulders, and the hairs on the back of your neck shooting up straight.
A fun fact about Nanami? He doesn't boss you around, but the one thing he wants you to do during intimate moments is to tell him the things you find pretty about yourself. Nothing more, nothing less, (something about seeing yourself the way he sees you, which is nothing short of perfect).
Husband!Nanami who lets his warm, gentle hands which wouldn't dare lay a finger on you, wander over every part of your body. Every dip and curve is thoroughly touched by his finger pads, promising and adoring, even the parts you dislike about yourself. Those are the ones he's most fond of—the soft indent of your waist, the faint violet tracks on your breasts, the flesh-toned and sunken stretch marks on your hips that spread all the way to the skin of your butt—and he intentionally spends extra time worshipping them.
Husband!Nanami who places a lingering, wet kiss on your throat, hot breath fanning the skin, while your pulse immediately quickens due to the feeling. And then he's fisting his hands in your hair, tugging your head back the slightest bit so his lips are able to move up to your jawline, and he continues to pepper kisses all over the skin there, too. “You’re incredibly gorgeous,” he’ll whisper, breathy and completely undone. “So beautiful, darling.”
Husband!Nanami who takes off his belt, purposefully slowing down the action, while keeping eye contact with you. The first time he did it, in the early stages of your relationship, where everything was still new and nerve-wracking, you had flushed a pretty red colour while you bit down on your bottom lip, and back then, in that specific moment, he decided that he wanted that look to be reserved for him and him only for a long time yet to come.
Husband!Nanami whose lips follow wherever his hands go. He’ll start by unhurriedly taking off your shirt and unclasping your bra, and once those are thrown to the other side of the room, he’ll press kisses to the bare flesh in front of him. From your collarbone to the valley of your breasts, hands lightly holding down on your hips since you tend to squirm when he reaches the softness of your belly, and so on.
There's nothing better than having him keep eye contact with you from where he's kneeling between your legs, your thighs almost making him suffocate—although he secretly thinks it’d be an incredible way to go—whilst he presses fleeting kisses to your inner thighs.
Husband!Nanami who’s become awfully skilled at lowering his voice, hazel eyes softening while his hand never lets go of yours. “I know, darling, I know.” His lips brushing the shell of your ear, they’re mere whispers in a husky voice, yet it’s the only thing you're able to hold onto. “Oh, my love.”
With each groan that escapes his lips, you’re arching your back into him more. “You’re doing so good for me, so perfect.” Foreheads pressed together, and even if the only thing you do is roll your hips, the praise just keeps coming. “You’re such a good girl for me, baby.”
Husband!Nanami who kisses your sweaty forehead afterwards, nose pressing against your hairline for a simple second before he gets a damp cloth from the bathroom. Within seconds, the material is pressed against you, cleaning up the sticky mess that's left staining your inner thighs. “Feeling all right, honey?” he asks in a low tone, steady and peaceful, despite still trying to catch his breath.
He's aware you're too tired to move, that's why he makes sure to clean you up as thoroughly as possible, and ushers, more like practically carries, you to the bathroom so you can use the toilet before fully dozing off.
Husband!Nanami who pulls you flat on top of his body right before you fall asleep. Your leg thrown over his hip, face nuzzled deeply into the crook of his neck, the smell of his cologne, mixed with the slight remnants of sweat and a scent that smells an awful lot like dark musk making its way into your nostrils, whilst your hair tickles his chin with each movement you make.
He easily slips one warm hand under your sleeping shirt and runs the tips of his fingers up and down your spine, ignoring the goosebumps he leaves in its wake.
This...is hotter than ANY outright smut fic I have EVER read dude. YA- YAAAALLL need to be learning from this MASTER of of...fuckin SENSUALITY ISTG, I had to get up and pace my house THREE times at three different points of reading this GODLY fic right here. I will respectfully offer up my credit card, my rent, my social security number, followed humbly by my heart, my soul, my left pinkie toe YOU NAME I-
pairings : xavier, zayne, rafayel, sylus, and caleb (seperate)
synopsis : the lads men make you angry so they find a way to kiss it better
wc: 6.6k
general cw : nsfw, make up sex, oral (fem!receiving), overstimulation, piv, fingering, nipple play, dry humping, semi-public sex, unprotected sex
aexias talking : hii sorry this took me so damn long, ive been going thru writer's block LOL please enjoy <3
XAVIER 沈星回:
"Xavier, please." You rub your temples, smoothing your fingers through your hair. Seeing his face makes it difficult to stay mad at him. Even if you're upset over a silly reason, you still hold your ground. He stands outside your doorstep, eyes glimmering with sorrow. A soft dejection written on his face. He almost looks like a dog— Sad and pathetic.
The fact you fold so easily for him is pathetic though.
How could you not though? It's hard to deny Xavier when he makes you feel so good. You tangle your fingers into his strands, smacking your other hand against the wall to leverage yourself. Xavier crowds you, rubbing his nose into your thighs, kissing up the insides of your legs. He raises your thigh, letting it dangle over his shoulder. Xavier presses kisses into your hip, goosebumps flooding your body.
You're the pathetic one.
"My star." Xavier moans, his tongue lapping at your inner thighs. You make the mistake of staring down, seeing the haze in his eyes. It makes your stomach coil with need, throbbing at the mere sight of him. Xavier presses kisses into your skin, hands stabilizing you. "I'm sorry, I won't do it again, okay?" He mumbles, far too invested in your pleasure.
You know it's stupid, Xavier shouldn't be apologizing for your stubbornness. Yet, you can't help but feel a swirl of glee, seeing him indulge in your immature mannerisms. His nose bumps against your clit, letting his tongue explore your sex. His eyes still remain on your expression, feeling your muscles twitch and spasm under his palms.
"I'll only look at you, okay? Only you, my love." He drags his tongue up, gently suckling at your clit before one of his hands glides up the back of your thigh. His fingertips glide over your slit before circling your entrance. "I'll only make you laugh, okay? I'll only ever make you feel good. I'm yours." Xavier's finger presses against the opening, gently sliding in. You clench around a single digit, hips buckling.
"I know you're sensitive. It's been two weeks." He mumbles, pressing his finger deeper. His finger curls softly, the pads moving against your walls. You try your best to keep your noises down. You're right in the door way, anyone could hear you two.
"Xavier.." You moan out, pressing his head closer to you. Your hips weakly grind against your face, rolling into his touch. You can feel him smiling, slipping another finger into you. You stretch around him with little to no restraint, your body giving into his mouth.
"Did you try touching yourself?" He asks, pulling away from your clit for a moment. Frazzled, you look down with confusion.
"I, uh— What?" You stumble on your words, too engulfed in how he's making you feel. Xavier repeats his question, kissing around your clit. You buck your hips, silently begging for more. "Yeah, it didn't—Ah— go well…" You admit, ears flushing with shame.
"I thought so.." He says softly, returning to your skin. Xavier continues curling his fingers, thrusting them in and out of you. "I am sorry though." He speaks again, pulling his fingers out. You whine at the loss of contact, but Xavier soothes you. He lets your leg fall off his shoulder, opting to wrap his arms around your hips. His thumbs rub at your lower stomach, pushing up your shirt.
His hand smooths over your skin, applying a soft pressure to your pelvis while his thumb rubs at your clit. He dips lower on his knees, angling his head to lap at your slit. Your skin is puffy, desperate for his touch. This time, you pull at his strands with a soft grunt.
"Xavier, please. If you're going to keep teasing me, I'll be even angrier." Your brows furrow, watching his eyes go wide. That pitiful, pathetic stare makes you clench around nothing. But he listens—He's good at that—focusing on the task at hand. Xavier presses his mouth against you, his tongue curling inside of you.
It's an entirely different feel from his fingers, softer yet more prominent. You buckle against his mouth, his thumb continuing to swirl at your clit. It throbs under his fingers as you become nosier. Concern for who can hear you has long since left your mind.
"Fuck, Xavier. Keep going!" You cry out, head resting against the wall. Weeks after working with just your fingers has left you frustrated. Granted, you caused your own issues, but still. Having his mouth and attention on you is suffocating in the best way possible. You want nothing more than drown into his affections and touch, choke on the feeling of ecstasy. He builds you up so gently, guiding you to an overwhelming pinnacle before he guides you down.
The pressure he applies on your lower stomach only adds to the stimulation, driving you crazy. Your head spins with desire, grinding against his mouth. The entire time, Xavier's eyes never stray from your expressions. It's euphoric, being strung so high, knowing you're going to be just as ardently guided down.
Xavier rumbles something against your sex, but you're too far gone to pay any mind. You can feel your orgasm washing over you, ebbing straight into your body. Before you can process it, you're clenching around Xavier's tongue, staining his mouth and chin with your slick.
Xavier doesn't let up though, gently slowing his movements. You pant as roll into his touch before you start flinching away from overstimulation. You push at Xavier's forehead, feeling his detach from you. His arms still stay looped around your hips, pressing kisses into your pelvis and stomach. His chin rests against your stomach as he cranes his neck to look at you.
"My star… Am I forgiven? Or shall I keep going? I'll do it as much as you'd like— I'll do anything." He says it so pointedly you don't have the heart to tease him. You shake your head, letting go of his blondish strands.
"You're forgiven, Xavier…" You say with a sigh, thighs trembling in his hold. "Though, I wouldn't mind a massage—"
"Anything you desire, my love."
ZAYNE 黎深:
"Your greed knows no bounds, Doctor." You remark, narrowing your eyes at Zayne. The blue light of his laptop reflects in his glasses has his gaze flits up to you. He's in his night clothes, yet he's still sitting at his desk. To add salt to the wound, he ate your dessert. Zayne's brows raise slightly, his crimes dawning on him.
"I'll be there in—" Zayne begins to speak, but you abruptly cut him off.
"Ten minutes, I know. I heard that an hour ago, dear." You walk towards the front of his desk, placing your hands on the wood. He stares up at you, eyes flitting down to the screen. You lean in, pulling his glasses off his face. "Don't you think you owe me reparations, Doctor? You ate my pudding and now you're lying to me." You jut out your lip in a faux pout watching his expression morph. Zayne rubs his temples, sighing.
He rises from his desk, glancing at his phone to check the time. He walks around the desk as your eyes follow him, his arms soon caging you against the wood table. He rests his face into the back of your neck, hands smoothing down your sides. You tangle a hand into his hair, guiding his lips towards yours.
As you press into Zayne you can feel his heart beating on your shoulder, the hitch in his throat as you slide your tongue against his. He lowers his head once more, kissing down the back of your neck. Pulling down the straps of your shirt to feel the skin of your shoulder.
"Will this suffice?" It's rhetorical. Zayne knows that you are far greedier than he is. He huffs a laugh near your neck, massaging his fingers into your hips and tail bone. "Tell me how I can right my wrong, darling." He breathes against your ear, guiding your chin back.
Zayne presses his lips against yours, feeling you willingly part your lips for his tongue. His hands stay busy, thumbs pulling down your pants and letting it pool by your ankles. You step out of the fabric, turning around quickly to wrap your arms around his shoulders.
He takes a step back as if to guide you towards the bedroom, but you pull on the collar of his night shirt. You shake your head,
"No. Here. So next time you lie to me, you can remember what it will cost to make it right." You chuckle against his lips, kissing him once more. Your lips move in tandem and Zayne is quick to prop you onto his desk. He shuffles his things to the side, knocking down a few papers in the process.
That isn't important right now.
You raise your hips, slipping your panties off before tugging on the edges of Zayne's shirt. He quickly disposes it, allowing you to feel the contours of his body. Your fingertips glide over his chest, collarbones, and expand over the plains of his abdomen.
Zayne works quickly. An arm wraps around the backs of your shoulders, guiding you to lay across his desk on your hip. Zayne manages to slip a hand between your thighs, knuckles running along your soaked slit.
"Tell me where you want me." He whispers into your ear, kissing the underside of your jaw when you lean back. He manages to get you onto your knees, kneeling on the desk as your back faces him. Zayne kisses down your spine, fingers lingering near your sex.
You take his hand, guiding the tips of his fingers between your folds, dragging them up and down. His fingers flex gently, prodding your hole. Zayne presses a kiss to your shoulder as your hips push back into his hand. Two of his fingers slip effortlessly into you, eliciting a moan from you.
"I should have known you wouldn't wait for me. Did you get tired of playing by yourself?" He questions, holding back a smile. You huff into your forearm, flushing.
"You took too long." You groan, pushing back against his fingers. He curls them into your sweet spot, allowing you to set the pace. Zayne hums against your back, feeling the chill of his skin against yours. His thumb finds your clit, pressing down on the bud as he continues to arch his fingers. You gush around him, squeezing your thighs together.
"My apologies." There's no bite to his words, a soft smile displayed on his face. You glance over your shoulder, brows furrowing as he leans in to kiss you again. You're impatient though, growing far too tired of simply having fingers inside of you. You press the arch of your foot against his thigh, straining your ankle to drag it higher up his leg.
Zayne catches your ankle with his spare hand, pressing his thumb into the center. It effectively restrains you foot, causing it to curl inwards. You whine against his lips, but soon hear him shuffling out of his pants.
"Good things comes to those who wait." Zayne humors you, sliding your foot outwards. He parts your legs, guiding the head of his cock between your thighs. He groans at the sheer heat of you, feeling your ass pressed against his pelvis. "Greedy." He remarks, seeing you push back against him. His hand rests on your hip, guiding you onto him.
You groan as Zayne pushes into you, your body rolling against his hips. He holds you down, keeping you in place despite your incessant whines. Gently, Zayne guides you to sit up, his chest against your shoulders. With his lips beside your ear, you can hear his heavy breathing and groans.
"impatient and greedy." He repeats, coiling an arm around your center to palm at your exposed chest. Your head falls back into his shoulder, sucking and biting marks onto his neck. Come tomorrow, he may flush at the bright red markings on his pale skin, but for now, Zayne allows you to do as you please.
When he finally bottoms out, he doesn't waste anytime. He sets the pace for you, pressing a hand on your lower abdomen. You feel the pressure of him, his cock running into the deepest part of you. It drives you insane, your fingers coiling around his wrist.
The compression on your stomach makes your head spin, not to mention Zayne's moans and scent flooding your senses.
"So noisy. Is this what you wanted, my love? Is this a sufficient apology?" Zayne is aware a conversion will occur later as he peppers kisses into your chest and shoulders, uttering a promise to be more cautious about his time working late at night.
Especially on days where he is supposed to be in bed, curled into your warmth. But for now, he's willing to satiate your desires. Pleasure you until your eyes are rolling back and sweat under the folds and panes of your body. You nod fervently, jaw agape as you pulse around his length.
"Cum, my love. I know you want to. Let me—" Zayne pauses, a moan interrupting his speech. "Ah, let me makes you feel better." His hand drags from your hip to your chin, guiding your lips against his as you shatter in his arms. You can't escape the pleasure and sincerity he's forcing upon you. You're wrapped in his ember, indulging to the highest degree in the pleasure he provides.
Even as your lips part, your foreheads press against one another. Zayne pants against your lips before his orgasm crashes into him. His hips stammer, but continue rolling through the pleasure. Gently, you two ride out your highs together, collapsing against his body.
"I love you." Zayne mutters, imprinting kisses into your shoulder. "I'll manage my time better."
"No, don't." You chuckle, bringing your hand up to his face. You lightly squish his cheek between your fingers. "I like to kiss and make up." Zayne chuckles, shaking his head before pressing a kiss to your sweaty temple.
"Greedy."
RAFAYEL 祁煜:
Rafayel doesn't argue with you majority of the time. When you get angry, fuming at his behavior, he's quick to shrug it off. A master at adverting your attention to anything other than his wrongdoings. He refuses to address any issues with your relationship with the fear that you will give up on him— Leave him for good.
"Isn't this nicer, cutie?" Rafayel's breath tickles your ear, biting down on the soft flesh. You twitch under him, hips rutting into his palm. "You don't need to worry about anything. Just focus on me, okay?"
It's hard to focus on anything except him. His fingers curl into your just right, rocking his palm with the correct pressure. It should be a crime how good Rafayel makes you feel. The way you kiss and make up is addicting. The high you get from arguing to grabbing his collar and kissing him senseless.
Your arms coil around Rafayel's neck, sucking on his skin. He hisses, palming at your hip with his free hand. You bite around his neck and collarbone, decorating him with your markings. You refuse to leave him because regardless of his shortcomings, Rafayel makes up for them in a plethora of ways.
"Are you close, cutie? I can feel you. It feels so good, doesn't it? Grinding on my hand instead of yelling, hm?" He doubles down, pressing his thumb against your clit. He mercilessly swirls the bud, jerking his fingers to press deep inside of you. You moan into his skin, biting down harder the closer you get. Your hips press into his palm, meeting him halfway.
Your body stutters though, the sensitivity growing to an all-time high. Though, just before you cum, Rafayel pulls his hand away from your sex. A string of your slick chases his fingertips, making him smile at the sight. You're huffing, panting as you gaze at him with anger.
"All you do is make me angry." Your words hold no bite though, not when your thighs are shaking with need. He knows you won't be mad for long, not when he holds the power of your pleasure in his palm.
Rafayel snickers, leaning onto his forearms as he undoes his zipper. The bed sinks under his weight as your hands impatiently undo his belt. The metal clinks as it falls to the floor, your body moving in to kiss him. Your hands cup his face, drawing him in as he undresses himself.
You already know what's coming next. He forces you to sit up on your knees, pressing a hand to the backs of your thighs. Rafayel doesn't wait for you, sinking you down on his cock as his tongue takes the opportunity to slip into your mouth. Your moans muffle against his tongue as he pulls you down further.
Your nails drag into his skin, creating red angry marks. You push against his chest, letting him lay flat against the sheets. His hair puffs out, cheeks flushed as you rise up on your knees. Rafayel reaches out to touch you, but you swat his hand away.
"No. Just sit still. Do something good for me for once." You furrow your brows, sinking back onto his cock with ease. He watches from below as your knees spread, the way your head tilts back. Your hand presses onto his chest for stability, arching onto him. You lay flat onto him, your hips bouncing.
Rafayel groans beneath you, the tips of his ears a bright red. The room fills with heavy pants and moans. Despite your orders, his hands rest on your ass, aiding you. Your fingers splay over his sides, leaving marks down his chest and shoulders.
"You're such an ass, you know?" You grunt, legs trembling like jelly as you spread your knees wider. The burn feels so good, blurring the lines of pain and pleasure. "Making me chase you down all afternoon. Just for you to ignore me." Your nails dig into his skin as you try to push yourself up.
You swat his hands away again, ruffling your own hair to bounce on his cock properly. He lies deep in your stomach as you bite down on your lip.
"You're so fucking immature." You drag your nails down Rafayel's torso, his cock throbbing inside of you. You clench around him rhythmically, his hips winding into yours. His hand raises to your chest, pinching your nipple between his fingers. He lets out a strained huff, smiling despite all your insults.
"You still love me though. Right, cutie?" Rafayel pulls you down against his chest, hands grabbing your hips to bounce your ass onto him with a steady pace. You grasp at the sheets, digging blunt crescents into his skin.
"Never going to let you leave me, okay?" He hisses through gritted teeth. Despite his ability to speak, Rafayel isn't faring any better than you are. "We'll figure it out. I'll do better." The base of his spine tingles under your weight, a force driving his climax closer and closer. The longer it goes on, the sloppier Rafayel gets. His body tenses, growing dizzy at your mewls and whines.
His hand leaves your hip, driving your face towards him. The kiss is a mess of teeth and tongue, bitting at each other's lips as you both try to contain yourselves. But it feels too good. The way you tighten and gush around him drives Rafayel insane. In the same manner, Rafayel sinks deeply into you, thrusting his hips into yours with precision.
In sync, the two of you shudder chest to chest. Your nails tug at Rafayel's scalp, the pain forcing his orgasm to crash down. Your entire body trembles, thighs quivering as you gush around Rafayel's length. It's almost painful how hard you cum. You can hear Rafayel moaning into your ears before biting down on your shoulder.
Tit for tat.
Sweat drips down your bodies, slack against one another. Neither of you move, afraid to rock the serenity of the moment. Rafayel rests his hands against your upper back, leaning down to kiss the top of your head.
"I will do better, I promise." He mumbles into your hairline, drawing you in for a much softer kiss.
"We'll see."
SYLUS 秦彻:
The first thing Sylus does when he returns home is seek you out. Especially right now considering he's committed a criminal offense: He has missed date night. A ritual you two have at least once a week. Today though, he was caught in unfortunate circumstances. He almost got caught into a trap, negligent of his surroundings due to his mind being occupied by you. He finds you laying in your shared bed, slumped over the sheets.
You're still wearing your outfit. Your heels have almost slipped off your feet as they dangle over the bed, your dress riding up your hips. He has an incredible view, but he can't help but feel a pang in his chest. He doesn't even shed his gloves before laying beside you. His hand runs up your thighs, massaging the exposed skin of your hip. Sylus pulls you close, watching you rouse from your blissful sleep.
"Sylus?" You breathe out, eyes still shut. Your body curls into his, the cool leather of his hand smoothing over your forehead. Your makeup has gone askew, eyeliner smudging. He gently runs a hand under your eye, smiling softly. The low lights make it easier to see his face even as he draws near.
"I'm late. I'm sorry." There's a deep furrow in his brows, his silver strand swaying. You match his expression, linking your fingers together at your hip bone.
"I got all dressed up. I wanted to see the opera." You're disappointed, he knows it. Sylus leans down to kiss you, lips softly pressed into yours. You turn over, letting him hover over you.
"I know, sweetie. I'm sorry." He mutters into your lips, letting you coil your arms around his neck. You feel the prickly edges of the back of his head, fingers finding his strands. He feels nice pressed against you, holding you through the negative emotions that backpack off disappointment. Sylus cups your ribs, hands molding over your breasts as he kisses down your dress.
"So beautiful, hm?" His lips bite your skin gently, lapping at the wounds. Your thighs make room for his knee as it settles between your legs. You let your fingers make do of his shirt, unbuttoning the top as you tug his tie off. You can see the dust that sticks to his shirt, the splatters of blood on his cheek. You furrow your brows at the sight, pulling him closer.
"Did you get hurt?" You whisper against his lips, afraid that if you spoke any louder it would break the moment. Sylus shook his head, reassuringly kissing you. His lips move with yours in tandem, arms coiling around one another. "I'd be more angry if you did." You tell him when you part. Sylus laughs when your arms slip off his shoulders. You remove his shirt, hands exploring his body.
It's familiar terrain. The small dots on his body, the contours of his abdomen and hips. You know this area well, running a hand over his chest. He's sensitive there. Sylus moans above you, pulling your hips up to fully push your dress up. It clings to your waist as Sylus kneels near the edge of the bed. He pulls you forward with a tug to your ankle as he slips your heels back on.
"Can I walk you through what we would have done?" He mutters against your knee, looking up through his lashes. Your fingers find home against his head, nodding gently as you place your thigh over his shoulder. Sylus smiles softly, the edges of his eyes softening. "The opera would have been the first spot. And dinner afterwards, that's our tradition." He speaks fondly of your weekly routines.
"Then we would walk around a park. You always stuff yourself full, kitten. I'm glad though. Seeing you become greedier as the days pass." Sylus fully settles on his knees now, gently parting your thighs. He can see the way your panties gently glisten under the soft lighting. He smiles, kissing the insides of your knees.
"By then, I would have reaches my limit. Especially when you look this divine. How could I not?" You flush under Sylus's compliments, letting a small giggle slip. "Where would you let me have you? Near the entrance or in the elevator? Perhaps the lower living room? That is your favorite, no?" Sylus slips a thumb under your panties, gently tugging them down your thighs.
"Maybe the stairs on the way to the bedroom. I grow more impatient as the days pass, kitten" You can imagine it now, running away as he chases you up the stairs. Sylus is adept in chasing you though, a master in his craft. Pressing you into the stairs as your thighs squish his head.
That is his idea of paradise after all.
With your panties out the way, Sylus parts your thighs further. You scoot closer, guiding his mouth to where you need him most. He hums, satisfied with your orders. His tongue runs along your folds, wasting no time.
"Maybe the bathtub like last Friday? You enjoyed that greatly, didn't you? I've never seen you make such a face before." Sylus reminiscences the way you were trembling on top of him as your hips rose and sank. Desperately holding onto his hand, tears streaming with need. Tragically beautiful.
His fingers join the mix, circling your entrance to gather your slick. You accept his touch, rolling your hips into his fingertips. He thrives off watching you like so. You let out a shaky breath, his middle finger sinking into you. You feel the bump of his ring by your folds, thighs pressing around him. That has never stopped Sylus though. His free hand dips your body back, laying on the bed flat.
With a hand on your lower back, Sylus raises your hips into his mouth. Your weight settles onto his palm as your legs splay. He gets a clearer view of your sex now, noting the way you pulse around him. Sylus likes the take his time, savor every sound and taste. But tonight he has a mission to fulfill: Satisfy his beloved. Make it up to you.
Sylus does just that, his finger curling into your sweet spot. His fingers are your favorite part of him, long and stocky to hit in just the right places. You fist the sheets, tugging at the burgundy silk. It's sickening how smooth his sheets are. They slip from your fingers as your hips roll into Sylus's touch.
"Please. More, Sylus. Don't tease me…" You moan from above, letting your hand slip beneath the bodice to squeeze your breast. Sylus takes his hand from our lower back to glide up your body. He shushes you, bitting the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.
"Let me. Just enjoy, my love." He cups your exposed breast, kneading the skin before using the sides of his fingers to pinch and roll your nipple. All the while, he slips another finger inside of you. He works you well, curling and prodding your sweet spots. "That's it. It must feels so nice, right?" Sylus rises from your thighs to kiss up your stomach. He's bent at an odd angle, so you pull him back on top of you.
He cages you with his body against the numerous pillows, gliding his tongue against yours. Sylus moans into your mouth, angling his wrist to better touch you. His thumb glides between your lips to press at your clit. You jerk against him, thighs squeezing his wrist. It doesn't stop Sylus though, he keeps his pace.
With his free hand, he fully tugs down the top of your dress and lets the material bunch at your torso. Your nipples harden under the newly found air. Sylus suckles around the buds, but quickly changes his tune when you whine under him. He commits to the act, directly suckling at the bud. It hardens more in his mouth, growing puffy and swollen from his ministrations.
"Kitten." Sylus purrs against your skin, creating bites into your skin. "Beautiful. My beautiful sweetheart. I'm sorry, I'll make it up to you as much as you'd like." His voice rumbles in your ears. Your hands explore his bare body, dragging red lines down his biceps and shoulders. Sylus shudders under the pain, eyes gently rolling back.
He works guides you through it all, murmuring sweet words into your skin while his fingers curl and roll into your cunt. You pulse and gush around him, legs flailing.
"Sylus!" You cry out, tears brimming your eyes. Sylus kisses your lids, smiling.
"Cum for me, sweetie. You deserve that much." He whispers, feeling your body seize under him. It's euphoric, like fireworks exploding behind your eyelids. Your jaw slackens, pitchy moans and whines escaping your lips the longer Sylus keeps your strung out for. His fingers don't stop even as you cum, clenching around his digits. His palm rolls into your clit, hips chasing his movement.
"Good girl, good. I have you, sweetie." He rocks you through your high, even has you slacken under him. Sylus does not stop, gently guiding you into another high. You don't mind it though, your body in desperate need of his touch. Sylus presses a kiss to your lips, saliva pooled around the edges.
"We'll keep going until I've paid my dues, kitten. Be as greedy as you please."
CALEB 夏以昼:
Caleb is a nuisance when you argue. He would perish if he gave you even an ounce of space. He wants to solve issues in the moment rather than letting them linger in your mind for hours on end. Nip it in the bud, kind of guy. You hate that about him though— So clingy and in your face when all you need is a little space.
Though, you can't quite be mad at him when his tongue is buried deep inside of you.
"Pipsqueak, please? I'm sorry, honey. Won't ever put the cameras up again, okay?" Caleb says, pressed into your sex. You push at his forehead, yet your hips chase after his touch. You feel like a fool. How could you fold so fast?! Yet, how could you pass up the opportunity? It's not as if Caleb has ever given you a bad experience in the bedroom— Far from that.
You falter, seeing his eyes glimmering in the low lighting of his home. You shouldn't even be here, you should be ignoring me. You were headed back home after a bad argument, but he insisted you stay for dinner and or at least take something home. Yet, as the water on the stove comes to a roaring boil, Caleb pays it no mind.
"I'll be a good boy, yeah?" Caleb whines, his fingers working into your sensitive walls. You twitch above him, gripping onto the granite tiles. It digs into the base of your spine as you tremble on your toes. You tug at Caleb's strands as your heart races in your chest. His touch drives you mad, tongue swirling over your clit as his fingers veer into your sweet spots.
He plays so unfair.
Caleb presses a wet kiss to your clit, kissing all along the meat of your thighs. His nose rubs into the skin as he hums, watching your composure fail. He draws your hand covering your mouth back to his head, letting you push him further into your wet folds.
"I'll do anything, baby. I'm sorry, okay? I'll be such a good boy." He laps at your clit again, suckling on the swollen bud. Your hips jerk into his mouth, a sharp gasp escaping your lips. Caleb's eye brim with faux tears, pleasuring your most sensitive places. He rambles on, mouth pressed into your folds.
He works into your body, dragging two orgasms out of you. Your legs tremble around his head and thighs before he twirls you around. Gently, with an arm wrapped around the front of your shoulders, Caleb bends you over the table, pulling your panties to the side. From the corner of your eye, you can see your discarded jeans and one of your boots. Your eyes flutter shut as Caleb kisses down your spine, your hand seeking out his.
"Hm? What is it, pretty? You forgive me?" You ignore his teasing, looking over your shoulder to whine at him. Just as Caleb knows your every weakness, you know his all the better: Your needs. With flushed cheeks and glossy eyes, you give him the neediest look you can muster.
"Oh, my baby. Look at you. You just need me, huh?" You nod in reply. Caleb falters, cooing at your expression. He guides you back up, pulling you into his arms. His pants hand low on his hips as Caleb guides you to his bedroom. With your arms looped around his neck, you hold on tight.
"I'll be good, yeah? No more spying on you, baby." Caleb nudged the bedroom door open with his foot, guiding you to his bed. As your placed onto grey-ish black sheets, Caleb hovers over you. He aims for your neck, kissing and lapping at your skin. You let his chest press against yours, legs locking around his hips. "Would you like that, honey? Me being good for you? Is that what you need?"
Again, you don't reply, letting your noises answer for you. His hand rub at your sides, fingers finding their way between your thighs again. A shiver treks up your spine as Caleb's fingers spread inside your walls. He tugs on your earlobe, pulling away with a chuckle when you punch his chest.
"Behave, boy." You narrow your eyes, letting him place your ankles on his shoulders. Caleb doesn't like to waste time, not when you're ready for him. He nods, his bangs swaying softly.
"Can I, baby? Promise I'll make you feel so good, okay?" His eyes wane, melting into a look of needy tenderness. You can't say no, you don't want to. You roll your eyes at him, pressing your hips forward. As his hips presses into you, Caleb groans. Your wet heat envelops his length as he grinds on his molars. But soon, noises slip out of his mouth and his brows knit.
"Thank you, baby." Caleb sighs, relief spreading through his body. The deeper you sink onto his cock, the louder he gets. He repeats this mantra of thanks over and over into your neck, lapping and nipping the skin. His hips have a mind of their own, raising yours to thrust into you as deeply as possible. Eventually, he rises to see your face. The flushed, dazed expression makes his cock throb.
"My baby. You're so pretty." He mumbles into your lips, placing wet kisses all over your face. "I couldn't help myself. You were so beautiful and I just—Ah!— Wanted to make sure nobody hurt you, honey." In between thrusts he speaks, trying his best to keep his composure. But Caleb falters feeling your walls clench around him. His pelvis knocks into your swollen clit, only amplifying the pleasure.
"My pretty baby." He coos, kissing the insides of your knees, down to your ankle. Caleb pulls your sock off with his teeth, letting your foot rest in his palm before pressing a kiss to the underside. He strays down your heel to the sides before one final one at the base of your foot.
"Promise I'll be a good boy, okay? No more cameras, baby. Yeah?" Caleb lets your foot rest on his chest as his head smooths the hair out of your face. Sweat lines your naked body the closer you get. Your whines grow louder as your hips try to back away from his obsessive pleasure, but Caleb has never let you stray far.
"Shh, shh. Don't run, baby." Caleb whispers, pressing his body weight onto you. The pressure only makes you dizzier, unable to run from the onslaught. It's too much, yet not enough all at once. Caleb knows, he knows everything about your body. So his fingers find your chest, pinching your nipples between his thumb and pointer, gently tugging at it. "Shh, don't be fussy, I know. I know, baby. I have you."
He suffocates you with his love, locking his lips against yours. Caleb suckles on your tongue, letting you pull at his hair. Your nails rake angry marks all along his back, his necklace making its way between your lips. Your run your tongue along the beaded apple, letting the thick silver slip onto his.
"Cum for me, baby. Wanna make you feel so good, yeah? Let me do that much." Caleb's arms encompass your body, rutting into your heat before your nails dig into his biceps. It's too much, your body can't handle it. You spasm under him, eyes rolling back before the knot in your stomach bursts.
"There you go, baby. I have you." Caleb babbles, lost in the heat and tightness of your cunt. His hips keep rutting into you as he digs his face into your neck. With what little strength you have left, you tighten your hold on Caleb's necklace. You tug it towards you, drawing him into a kiss. Your teeth dig into his bottom lip, iron coating your taste buds.
That's the final push he needed.
Before you know it, Caleb cums inside of you. A warmth fills your lower regions as your ankles lock against his spine. He can't move, forced to withstand the overstimulating waves of his orgasm. He whimpers and jerks in your hold, but you guide him through it.
"Will you forgive me, baby?" His voice is so shaky, eyes brimmed with tears. You can't tease him now, not when he's trembling and desperate for your forgiveness. You sigh, your face hot with his breath. "I've been a good boy, tell me what else I can do, my love. All I want is for you to forgive me." You smooth his hair out of his eyes, pressing a kiss to his sweat lined forehead.
"I'll let it go just this once.." You grumble, reluctant. Caleb's eyes glow with joy, encompassing your body into a hug. He peppers kisses all along your exposed skin as he gently pulls out of you. You tag back on his necklace, whispering against his lips.
"Do me one favor though, Caleb." You say, watching his brows raise. If he had a tail, you'd imagine it would be swaying quickly.
"Yes, yes! Anything, baby." You push yourself a bit higher on the bed, your elbows shakily supporting your weight. You guide Caleb's face back between your leaking folds, watching his ears twinge red.
"Clean me up?" Caleb smiles in return, pressing a kiss to the top of your foot.
not him, not the boy who blushes when you flirt too hard, who fumbles with his glasses and looks away when you wear anything tight. you always thought he’d be shy in bed—quiet, maybe, the kind to bite down on a groan and keep his eyes shut tight.
but the second your hips roll down on him—bare, slow, deliberate—clark gasps.
and then moans.
long and low, like it’s been punched out of him. like the sound was clawing its way up the whole time and just needed a reason to come out. his hands shoot to your waist and grip, hard. but it’s his voice that makes you stop.
“oh, gosh—” he chokes, jaw going slack.
you blink down at him, stunned, because he doesn’t stop.
every rock of your hips earns you something different. a groan that borders on a whimper. a gravel-deep grunt as his head tips back against the pillow. panting gasps that get louder, messier, when you clench around him on purpose just to hear them.
and you realize, breath hitching—
he’s so fucking loud.
and you love it.
“clark,” you breathe, leaning forward, kissing him just under the ear. “you always this vocal, or is it just me?”
he moans—high, broken, desperate—and grabs your hips again like he’s trying to slow you down but can’t. “just you,” he gasps. “just you, baby, i swear—”
you grin, dragging your fingers down his chest as you ride him harder.
thinking about husband!nanami and his love language being acts of service...
husband!nanami, who goes out of his way to replace your products when you run low. you could have 3 more uses of your shampoo, but he'll replace it along with five other products you're running low on when he goes to the store specifically for it on friday.
"ken, what happened to my conditioner?"
"you ran out so i bought you more, it's under the sink."
husband!nanami, who has photos of your exact shades for everything in your makeup bag for when he takes his weekly trip to sephora.
"ken, did you replace my lip liner?"
"yes, it was empty."
"how'd you know what shade i get?"
cue him showing you the photo on his phone, and you can see the several other photos around it of your other products.
husband!nanami, who keeps a vase of flowers in the center of your dining table, replacing them the second they look like they might wilt.
husband!nanami, who doesn't just give you a bouquet from the store, no. he buys several small bouquets of small flowers, cuts the stems at a 45° angle, picks off the thorns and leaves, and arranges the most gorgeous bouquets that deserve its own pinterest account.
"ken, did you get new flowers?"
"yes, the last ones were about to wilt."
they actually weren't about to wilt, he just wanted to see your eyes light up the way they do at every new bouquet.
husband!nanami, who can tell your exact emotions by a glance at your face or the tone of your texts. he always knows exactly what you need to feel better.
"is your shoulder hurting again? would you like me to massage it?"
"yes, thank you ken."
husband!nanami, who welcomes you home with a warm bath, candles, and a nice ambiance in the bathroom while he cooks dinner on those days that didn't go well for you.
"did you light my candle?"
"yes, it's in the bathroom by the bath. i also bought more of those salts you like."
husband!nanami, who will never discourage you for wanting to redecorate or redo a room in your guys' house. it's your house too, why stop you?
"i kind of want to re-design the front room. i don't like the color."
"we still have that wood from the dining room, would you like me to get it out for you?"
husband!nanami, who doesn't touch said room you're redoing until you're done unless you ask. he loves taking care of you, but he also knows that you're grown and sometimes you want to do things for yourself.
"here's the nails you needed, love. anything else?"
"will you hold the wood up while i drill?"
"anything for you."
husband!nanami, who shows off the rooms you redid to anyone who comes over.
"wow, you're house is beautiful, nanami."
"thank you. my wife actually redid this whole front room herself."
husband!nanami, who you will NEVER catch complaining about cooking or cleaning the house. even if you stay at home, it doesn't matter to him. we all have those days we don't want to cook or clean, and he's always willing to step in if you need.
"will you switch the laundry over, ken? i want to take a nap."
"of course, darling. do you want me to start on dinner?"
husband!nanami, who asks where you want to go, but never has to ask what you want because he has all of your orders memorized. he also memorized what dishes you don't like from every place.
"ooo, their crab rolls look so good."
"you said their crab tasted funky the last time, but you liked their tuna rolls."
husband!nanami, who knows what shows and movies are your go-to's, which ones you dislike, and even which ones you showed a slight interest in.
"ughhhh i don't know what movie to watch."
"you looked interested in that one with the monkey on the cover, want me to put it on?"
husband!nanami, who loves when you pack him lunches for work. he sends photos of the lunch when he opens it for the first time and when he finishes it, texting an extra little paragraph about how much he loved it.
🐦⬛ some random sylus ramblings idk its 5am please take this offering im going a little bit insane about him
thinking about feeling sylus's skin through his shirt.., the warmth and power there still tangible beneath the fabric. small intimacies like that are important to meee,,
running your hand down his clothed back, then sneaking it underneath his shirt and feeling his bare skin beneath your palm. so soft with just a bit of give to it. feeling his muscles flex under your fingers as he moves to thread his own through your hair in return. i just want to touch him so bad i might cry. Tbh..
you express interest in touching him intimately for the first time, and you receive a flirty, cocky response in return, but are also given full access. sylus is taken by surprise when instead of reciprocating his heated words, you press your cheek against his chest, over his heart, and run your hands up his sides beneath his shirt, your eyes closed in quiet focus. you treat him as a delicate treasure to be worshipped and revered and valued in a way he's never properly experienced before. he'd soften so sweetly and hold you close, enveloping you in his larger form and pressing a kiss to your temple. enjoying the feeling of your small hands exploring their new territory.
feeling his hand gently pressing against the small of your back when you get distracted in public, guiding you.
holding his hand to avoid being separated in a crowd, then keeping them like that even as you leave the crowded location. playfully swinging your joined hands a little bit and enjoying his amused response.
going to a concert with him and letting him cover your ears when the music gets a little too loud for you. the size of his hands compared to your head making you flush a little bit.
he always runs warmer than you, so you tend to lean into his touch whenever he offers it. he finds this adorable, and sometimes likes to see how far you'll lean when you're too tired to realize he's messing with you. eventually your sleepy protests win him over, and he wraps you back up in his embrace and gives you all the kisses you want.
chasing traces of his scent on your clothing when you miss him. curling around his pillow while he's gone, and eventually feeling the mattress dip behind you while you're half asleep, warm hands pulling you backwards until your back rests against against his warm chest. ticklish little kisses are pressed to your neck as he wraps his long arms around you to hold you close. trying not to cry when you tell him that you missed him, and feeling his heart stutter against your back when your voice cracks.
Like not only are you waking up to Sylus with bed head, morning voice, and bleary eyes. But you're waking up to him fully naked, with the lingering memories of all the physical activities you two had just partook in some odd hours prior...
The evidence is not only present on your bodies - through bruises, bites, scratches, and the occasional carefully placed hickey. But your environment carries the memories too.
Clothes still lying on the floor, decorative pillows still tossed hazardously to the bottom of the bed. Sheets still in a disarray except for where they're dragged over your bare bodies.
You find yourself staring at him, your head still resting on his outstretched arm, eyes lingering on the rise and fall of his bare chest. You want to bury your face in the crook of his neck, much like you had a few hours ago. You want to devour him just as you had last night...
your sweet sweet boyfriend nanami is always so gentle. fucking making love with you every night, wiping the beads of sweat off your head as he thrusts deeper and deeper .
you thought, whats the harm in trying new things ?
and now your face down in the bed, his arm is around your neck and those once gentle thrusts turned into brutal, rough ones. he was slamming into you at a rapid pace, grabbing your chin with his spare hand. “are you okay?” he spoke softly, a contrast to his rough actions. you nodded and he quickened his pace, balls slamming against your ass as he tightening his flexed arms grip on your neck
your a mess under him, jumbled moans, sweaty body. and on top of that, kentos stamina was not depleting soon. he was piping your pretty little pussy for thirty straight minutes now and none of your words were rendered comprehensible. he moved his hand from your chin and put it between your legs. “fuck, fuck baby you’re so tight.” kento moved his fingers and rubbed your already sore pussy to add to the pleasure that you were feeling.
your walls were gripping him, slamming into you as he hits that little sensitive spongy spot. “im gonna come,” kento spoke lazily. he came inside your pussy, pulling out soon after. strings of cum dripping out of you as he uses his fingers to push some back in you follow his ecstasy. you were seeing fucking stars
i guess you guys would opt to try out new things more often
nanami definitely loves to manhandle you. at first it was instinct—just practical. moving you out of the way during missions, catching your wrist when you’re about to do something dumb, steadying you with a firm hand on your lower back. it’s just efficient, he told himself. just muscle memory from years of combat.
but then he started noticing things.
like how you always go a little quiet when he effortlessly lifts you off the couch to make room. how your breath catches when he grabs your waist and pulls you back against him without warning. how you don’t complain when he hooks an arm around your legs and throws you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing. in fact… you giggle. every single time.
and now? oh, he’s shameless with it.
pressing his palm to the back of your neck to guide you through crowds. pulling you into his lap without asking. adjusting your posture by nudging your thighs apart, or pushing between your shoulder blades with two fingers until you sit straight like he wants. he picks you up when you’re being bratty. pins you down when you’re squirming too much. drags you closer just because you’re sitting too far away.
he doesn’t say anything about it, but there’s always that little satisfied smile tugging at the corner of his mouth whenever you melt into his hands. because he knows you like it. and the fact that you trust him enough to let him move you around like that?
yeah. it does something to him.
“you could’ve just asked, y’know,” you tease one day, after he catches you sneaking cookies before dinner and literally hoists you over his shoulder like you’re being arrested.
“i could have,” he agrees calmly, walking off with you dangling upside down, “but don’t you like this better?”
and god, the way you squeal when he slaps your ass once for good measure— he’s never going to stop.
ughh , TOJI being your sub! , is so fucking hot. you’re telling me the man is 6’3 , 190 pounds full of muscle and dick , has a face of a masochist, gets on his knees and kisses the ground you walk on? absolutely.
he’s the one who’s head is buried deep between you legs, suckling on your sensitive clit making your hips buck and letting out pornographic moans, as he lets out low whimpers and ruts his clothed aching cock on the bedside trying his best not to cum :(( .
he’s the one who’s head is on your lap, his cum stained sweats discarded somewhere else in the shared bedroom, his mouth sucking on one of your tits and using his large hand to grip the other for comfort, as you jerk him off. stroking up and down his 8 inch base, sometimes staying on his tip just to see his reaction, as precum drips down your newly manicured pink nails with cute gems (paid by yours truly), edging the hell out of him. you know when he’s about to cum, his abdomen tightens, his hips buck and twitch, and he becomes more whiny, even if he has one of your tits in his most. it brings you joy on how much he whimpers when he’s close , calling you ‘mami’ or ‘sweetness’ begging for the release, just for you to stop the second he gets to the edge.
“oh — ohhh fuck mami , pleasee. fuck . i w’nna-needa nuttt.” the man whined, his words slurring, tears rolling down his cheek, hand squeezing your tit harder.
“you think you deserve baby , hm? you’ve been so bad today.” you contradicted as you used your other hand to stroke his raven hair, looking down at him. he nods rapidly, you shake your head.
“words my love.”
“ fuck! yes sweetness pleasee , shit! i’ll never be a b-bad boy again — hah — i promise fuckimgonnacumm!” before you could tell him to stop, his hips buck and he shoots his load. roapsss of cum drizzle down his shaft to your hand, some even spurting on his abs. instead of punishing him like you usually do when he cums without your permission, you looked down at him and forgave him.
“m’sorry mama , hah , couldn’t hold it.” his legs shook from the after shocks, as he kissed around your breast, massaging your nipples while doing so.
“ i know baby , you did a great job for me yea? just don’t raise your voice at me like that ever again. kay?” toji nodded before sitting upwards and laying on top of you while kissing and sucking your neck, giving you prominent love bites you’ll be complaining to cover up later.
now don’t get me wrong, it gets to a certain point where toji truly can’t handle your bullying in the bed, sometimes he’s a switch. when’s he’s tired of you calling him your ‘slut’ and ‘plaything’ while riding him, he’ll break out of his restraints, wrapping his hands around your neck, pushing you on your back. forcibly push the back of your knees to your eyes, and slam alll his length into you, causing you to lose your breath.
“yeaa, how about that. who’s drooling like a slut now baby?” his thrusts melting your brain, your stomach pudge sticking out more than usual, thanks to toji’s godly dick. the bulge in your stomach turns toji on so much, he releases one of your thighs, using that hand to push down on your stomach. — “this where where you feel me baby ? yea? taking my cock soo fucking well. g’nna fill you up s’much.” — “ohh ‘ojiii!!” you whined, pushing his hips away to prevent his thrusts from feeling so good.
“unt unt, move your fuckin’ hand nd . . take. it.” those last two words is where he thrusted the hardest you could ever imagine, making you squirt all over abs and thighs. he’s left you absolutely dumb on his dick. he gives you the most smug smirk while pull you up by your face, — “anything else to say princess?” he asks while steadily drawing circles on your hypersensitive clit. “ i-i love you ‘oji, m’sorry for calling you a slutt!” — “thank you princess”
satoru "fake backshots" gojo who likes to sneak up on u when ur doing the most mundane tasks around the house and give you fake backshots.
yes, fake backshots.
washing dishes? the man is trying his hardest not to make any noise as he slips into the kitchen, watching u from behind, licking his lips at the sight of u in pajama shorts n' a lousy excuse for a tank top, tapping ur foot n' humming to a song playing in your earbuds. completely and blissfully unaware of the mischievous man lurking behind u. until u feel him, his hands sly n quick, his left getting a hold of ur hips while, his right pushes ur back into a arch. barely having time to react, all you could do was gasp, n try to push him away.
to no avail, satoru presses his pelvis into ur butt, before pulling back n thrusting his hips back n forth. satoru grinned eliciting small sighs and gasps from the same lips that complained "pervert! i can't even do the dishes in peace anymore!" . the man behind u leaned down to obnoxiously moan in ur ear in response "yea? yea? you like that, huh? like it when i take you like this?" u rolled ur eyes in annoyance, pushing his head away from your ear as he continued to thrust his bulge into ur ass. "satoru, ur so weird!"
"ohhh you love it, huh? feel good? yea? you gonna cum for me, baby? don't worry im right here with y-you- fuckkkkk!! nghhhhhh !!!!" satoru threw his head back n' at this point you couldn't tell if he was being serious or overly obnoxious like he always is. that is until he slows his movements and you look back at him. ready to scold him, but then ur eyes shift to his navy blue sweatpants, an obvious darker hue over his bulge.
"whoops" he shrugged stepping closer to u
the weirdo came in his pants
ur fully facing him as he towers over u, caging u in with the sink behind u,
"wanna do it for real now?" he lazily grinned at ur perplexed expression.
Hello I really love your work! I was curious if I could make a rather unique request?
King Grendel getting his next batch of Humans for his entertainment and ends up seeing brought out a women plus size with locs/braids. Something new he hasn't seen before- she ends up teaming up with another human to take down a monster ment to kill them in the arena. So the King decides to keep her- Strong Females are desired and especially one that can handle a yautja is even better.
Date requested: 7/23/2025
Fandom: Killer of killers
Type: one-shot
Grendel King x PlusSize!Reader
The air was dry, hot, and thick with the stench of blood and sand. You awoke to the hiss of metal and the electric snap of some alien device forcing your restraints to unlock. The floor beneath you vibrated. Chains rattled, not just yours, but dozens. maybe more.
You weren’t the only one abducted.
You didn’t scream, didn’t panic. You’d done that earlier, when that… thing… first pulled you from your life, your job, your apartment— wherever the hell you were. Now, you just breathed. In and out.
The others stirred— men and women from different times, judging by their dress. One wore armor like a Viking. Another, a jumpsuit like a WWII pilot. One woman had a katana strapped to her back. This wasn’t Earth. This wasn’t a rescue mission.
This was a coliseum.
The gate ahead groaned open with a sound that made your teeth rattle. Sunlight— if you could even call it that— poured in, bright but pale blue. The air shimmered with heat as a booming voice, alien but guttural, echoed over the walls. A cheer followed.
You stepped out.
⸻
They gawked at you. Not the humans. Them.
The Yautja, hulking creatures with dreadlocks and masks, loomed in the stands above like gods watching their ants dance. But one stood taller than the rest. Broader. Fatter, yes. but regal. Cloaked in bones and crowned in black iron. His dreadlocks were braided thick, gold bands glinting across his scalp. His eyes burned red behind his mask.
The Grendel King.
His gaze locked on you the second you stepped forward. You stood taller than most of the women here, wide-hipped and solid in your frame. Brown skin glistening with sweat. Locs pulled back and tied at the crown with a thick gold wrap you’d managed to keep.
His interest pricked your skin. Not just curiosity.
Possession.
⸻
You didn’t have time to think.
The beast emerged— ten feet tall, with bone for skin and a face split in three. It roared as the other humans scattered.
But you didn’t run.
You sprinted, low, fast, and dove for the wreckage nearby. A broken spear. A pipe. Something. Anything.
A man near you shouted, throwing you the jagged end of a blade.
“Behind you!” he yelled.
You turned and ducked just in time as the creature’s claw tore through the air. You struck up. under the jaw and shoved the blade until it cracked through the roof of its mouth.
The monster reeled.
You and the man…Alex, you’d learn later— moved like you’d fought together your whole lives. You tripped it, he stabbed. You threw the broken pipe, he pinned it with chains.
And when it finally fell, twitching and howling its death cries, the entire arena went silent.
Then: laughter.
Not mockery.
The Grendel King was laughing.
⸻
The Yautja warriors retrieved you both. Alex was hauled away to another cage.
But you?
You were brought to the King.
Not a word was spoken. Only the heavy drag of chains, the click of armor, the hiss of pressurized doors. You stood tall when they shoved you into the throne room. You didn’t cower.
You weren’t bred to cower.
He sat upon a throne made of Xenomorph bones, ribs fanned out like wings behind his massive frame. He removed his mask with a hiss of steam.
You expected horror.
Instead, you found something ancient, brutal, and curious staring back at you. Mandibles twitching. Scarred flesh around one eye. His breath smelled like copper and ash.
He stood. Towered.
And still, you did not step back.
⸻
He circled you like a warhound.
You didn’t flinch.
Instead, you squared your shoulders, meeting his gaze.
“You like what you see, big man?” you muttered, despite yourself.
He clicked low in his throat. A deep, inquisitive sound. You didn’t know Yautja, but you knew when a predator was impressed.
He raised his hand, slowly, and touched one of your locs. Carefully. Reverently. Like it was a sacred thing.
“…Strength,” he said. His voice was low, rough, but clear. “Breed…strong.”
Your heart skipped— but not from fear.
From the way he looked at you. Like something he hadn’t earned yet. Like something he wanted to.
He let out a deep purr.
Then turned, barked in his tongue, and the guards dispersed.
You were no longer a prisoner.
You were his chosen.
⸻
Days turned to weeks. You trained with the warriors. They respected you. Some feared you. But the King?
He watched every session.
Sometimes he approached. Touched. Never without permission.
His gestures were slow. Careful. Every inch he moved was measured, like he knew how fragile humans were— but you weren’t fragile, and that excited him.
He’d test your strength in combat. Then again, in other ways. Closer ways.
You realized he didn’t just want a concubine. He wanted a partner. A warrior mate. A mother of future hunters who wouldn’t break under pressure or under him.
And you?
You liked that idea more than you ever expected.
Because for the first time in a long time, someone looked at you— your size, your skin, your strength—and saw not too much…
“ah! g-gumi, f-feels s'good,” u say as ur lying down, ass up, back arched and face stuffed into ur pink, silky pillow. ur bf jus dry humping ur thinly clothed cunt while u just stay there taking it. “f-fuck…shut up for a minute” he groans out as he continues to grind his hard, clothed dick agaisn’t your pretty pussy, roughly groping ur ass as he grinds his dick even harder against ur cunt. the little sounds u make drives him crazy.
househusband toji letting you relieve some of your stress after a hard day at work
it started out with just simply letting him pound you into the mattress, ridding yourself of the pressure of your workplace, until you kept yearning for more..
toji had just came for the nth time, his hands pressing bruises into the dimples of your back. “f-fuck ma, you’re milking me.” he huffs out as he flops down onto the bed next to your frail body. “but i wan’ it toji.” you whine, sneaking your way on top of him to sit your leaking cunt onto his still hardened shaft.
you’re sliding his blushing tip in between your folds, allowing his tip to kiss on your puffy clit before sliding him inside you once more. “just one more time nngh! p-please” you mewl, globs of drool threatening to spill from the corner of your plump lips. “y-yeah, just take it ma. use me” toji whimpers, thighs shaking in overstimulation.
his hands are gripping your hips firmly while you bounce up n down on his sensitive cock. your cunt was sucking him in so sweetly like you didn’t wanna let him go, he could already feel his orgasm closing in on him. “toji! inside, cum inside please mmf!” you cried, hand sneaking down to your cunt to spread yourself just for him to see.
househusband toji would never tell his pretty wife no >.<
