A Thought, Perhaps A Request, My Humble Friend- WHINY RAFAYEL. I Just Know If You Spent The Day Working

(1) 🦭 signed, sealed, delivery pending...

Ferrying passengers and cargo between the mainland and the outlying islands is your family's livelihood. Life at sea holds its surprises, yet the routines remain reassuring — docking and departing, tourist antics, more docking and departing...

And there's the seal of course — the local celebrity trailing the ferry each day as though he's on the payroll. You think it might have been brought about by giving into his every whim and accidentally becoming his favorite person to be around in the process. But who would’ve guessed the truth, that he's actually a selkie who's spent years shadowing you, believing himself to be escorting his chosen bride all along?

genre: fluff, comedy | wc: 4K | read on ao3

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note: this is inspired by the giggly leg-kick inducing selkie raf fanart here by @/beechu-beechu!!!! i adore this raf to the moon and back, and all the seal videos i've watched (crybaby learns to swim) has prepared me for this moment. i hope you'll stick around for this very un-edited mini-series!

Your chest tightens pleasantly as you breathe in deep draughts of briny air, mist clinging to your tongue and lips, sharp and salty, anticipation of yet another day with your marine friend nudging your footsteps faster over slick cobblestones that echo softly against the buildings that line the street. Dawn hasn’t quite shaken off the night, draping everything in gauzy shadows, stretching slender fingers of soft gold across the rooftops, making you feel the gentle bite of the morning chill grazing your skin in a tingle of needles against your cheeks.

Ahead, the harbor emerges from the last traces of darkness, boats bobbing lazily against moorings that creak and groan like old friends in conversation as dockworkers shuffle around, silhouettes bent under cargo, and in comfortable and hushed chatting somehow overtaken by the screams of seagulls. Among them, your family's ferry waits patiently at its berth, outline illuminated by the muted brilliance of the rising sun — a scene so delicately composed you think it might’ve been painted by Edward Hopper himself each and every time you witness it.

“Hey hey, Elias!” you call, raising a hand to greet the old fisherman, his weather-creased face somehow aging a couple more years while he picks through a tangle of nets with focus.

He lifts his head, eyes crinkling fondly beneath his salt-stained cap. “Ah, mornin’, lass!"

"Brought something with me today. I want to see if it helps with the bait bucket problem."

"Boy is addicted to easy pickings, I doubt that. Wee nyaff owes me half a season’s catch by now.” Elias's rumbling chuckles have warmth rumbling through your chest. “Can’t fault him for his good taste in company when he has treats delivered to his doorstep, though.”

“Nice try,” you say, your tone mock-stern, a smile tugging insistently at the corner of your mouth. “But flattery’s not buying you extra coffee today.”

His laughter echoes briefly before it’s swallowed by the soft slosh of water beneath the docks, and he peers out across the idly rolling tide, affection blending with mild irritation as his fingers start working faster.

"That's fine," he says. "Having you back is enough. My poor boat needed a break from all that terrorizing."

You laugh at that with an embarrassed, heavy heart.

Six months have melted away since you traded your graduation cap for the familiar sight of gulls wheeling above the docks. You’d returned home carrying equal parts eagerness and obligation, drawn back into your father’s orbit, hoping, perhaps, to ease some of the burdens he’d never openly admit were weighing him down.

Leaving for university felt like stepping aboard a departing train, thrilling and dizzying as it rattled toward a glittering unknown named the future. City life was a constant hum you were ill-prepared for — nights brimming with noise, friendships blazing bright but fleeting as sparks — but somewhere along the way, that excitement quietly dimmed, and in its absence grew a tender longing, whisper-soft, for a simpler past, back when your world was defined by the comforting cadence of the ferry schedule and the friendly bustle of seasonal visitors.

So, under the spotlight of shame, coming home felt oddly disjointed at first, as though stepping back into a photograph that had stubbornly refused to fade, preserved, untouched by time — the docks still busy at dawn, fishermen hauling in their catches, schoolkids racing, backpacks swinging wildly, the scent of fresh bread spilling from the bakery door at exactly eight sharp every morning. Life moved here in steady, predictable rhythms, each beat familiar enough to lull you into comfort, yet somehow magnifying a subtle, restless niggling deep within your chest.

Because beneath the comforting yet burdensome familiarity that's a bed of nails at night, you can't shake the quiet sensation that returning was more retreat than progress.

You feel it most keenly when whispers trail in your wake, pointed glances exchanged between curious neighbors whose mouths curve around your name like a secret. They wonder aloud — in voices just low enough to feign politeness — about how university might have shaped you, or perhaps, more poignantly, left you unchanged.

You can feel their quiet amusement, the delight in the idea of the girl who once dreamed beyond the island now anchored firmly back in place, tethered once more to the ferry ropes and her father’s stubborn pride.

Not that Dad would ever breathe a word of needing assistance. Pride is his quiet strength and silent curse, a barrier more solid than the island's rocky coastline. You'd notice him sometimes, catching fleeting moments when he believes no one was watching — rubbing the weariness from his shoulders after hefting crates heavier than he’d admit, wincing just a little as his knees protest bending to secure the moorings, lips pressing into a thin, shaky line. It makes your heart twist like a wet rag, knowing his stubbornness masked vulnerability, and you'd resolved, quietly yet firmly, that your presence would stay constant until further notice.

Besides, the arrangement came with undeniable perks — a roof overhead without rent’s shadow hanging over your head, meals rich with nostalgia’s comforting flavor, and the cradle-like sway and creak of deck boards beneath your feet. It's more than enough compensation, more than fair payment, for the small surrender of uncertain ambitions to the nonjudgmental embrace of home.

By nonjudgmental you mean the weight of being allowed to take time in figuring your stuff out inbetween all the nausea-inducing sessions of admitting to yourself you're absolutely lost and don't have the slightest idea what you're going to do next.

So, yeah. Things are going great.

Still, despite everything, there’s at least one soul whose very presence smooths away any lingering doubts you had about returning home.

Well — perhaps not exactly a person.

There he is, your seal companion of years, lounging right there on the loading ramp as though he's claimed ownership of the whole harbor, proudly blocking Dad’s path as usual.

Today, Raf’s gray coat catches the clementine of the morning sun like liquid bronze, sleek fur glistening wetly, shimmering with subtle gold beneath droplets of seawater, and tiny flecks of fish scales cling stubbornly to his whiskers, the glittering remnants of his breakfast. You try your hardest to summon a stern mask of reprimand to your face — someone needs to teach this cheeky little shit some manners before either you or Dad dive headfirst into the sea because of Raf's sunbathing spot choices — but one glance into his wide, guileless eyes instantly dissolves your resolve into warm-hearted resignation.

With a mock-exasperated sigh, you lean down, scratching softly beneath his chin and tracing scratching circles in the thick fur around his neck, and Raf immediately responds, rolling onto his side and enthusiastically clapping his flippers together like an actor performing a rehearsed trick. You feel like he's Pavlov-ed you into yielding to his desires by rewarding you with cuteness, and burst into laughter, the sound rippling sweetly across the bay.

"Hi, hi, hi, my cutie pie," you coo softly in a sing-song voice that's the usual ritualistic greeting you have for him, smile brightening as you reveal a small stash of dried salmon you'd slipped into your bag. "I didn't forget my promise."

Raf perks up immediately, twisting himself with a delighted wriggle that ends with his tail thumping happily against the ramp, peering upward, eyes large and pleading, more expressive than any puppy’s. A heartbeat later, he's flopped dramatically onto his side, one flipper thrust skyward in hopeful invitation, and your cheeks ache from the persistent grin stretching across your face, but that hardly matters.

For a few joyful minutes, you're lost in a game of enthusiastic 'handshakes,' finishing with good, thorough tummy scritches before starting to feed him.

"Keep spoiling the damn thing, and he'll forget how to fish altogether," Dad grumbles affectionately as he passes by, hoisting another heavy crate bound for one of the smaller islands. You resist the urge to tease him about who’s really spoiling whom around here — considering how easily he gives in to your own puppy eyes — and instead settle for an innocent shrug, shaking the salmon bag, unaware of Raf following the notion with his neck elongating impossibly due to his unbelievable flexibility.

"Aww, come on. Look at that irresistible face! You can't help but want to give him whatever he wants!"

"Mm'begh, egg, ggeaaaghh," snorts Raf, wiggling under your pets, and even Dad is amused enough to pause and raise his eyebrows at the silly seal before moving along.

After a minute of playful petting, you pull yourself upright and stretch, wondering how many fish in the ocean smell this fresh and clean. The scent alone reminds you of childhood summer vacations splashing around, blissfully ignorant of any underlying responsibilities or cares.

"Get your fat cat off the ramp before he trips one of us up."

On cue, Raf slaps a fin theatrically against his rounded belly, releasing a snuffling grunt that sounds suspiciously like a tiny piglet rather than a seal: "Mmpppshh."

"Don't listen to him," you reassure Raf solemnly, as though comforting a wounded toddler. "You’re not fat. You're just… well-built. Big bones."

Your half-serious tone earns you several enthusiastic thwaps of Raf’s wet flippers against your calves, making you laugh despite your best efforts to feign sternness. "UUUUAAAAAAGH!!!"

With an exaggerated sigh, you give in, bending down for another pat. "Alright, easy there, handsome. Time to get to work."

Yet Raf, predictably, sees this only as an invitation for more attention, rolling onto his back once again, flippers splayed wide, belly fully exposed in expectation of being cradled like a newborn. Maybe he just wants another belly rub. Or maybe he senses how much you cherish these little interactions, savoring the warmth of mutual affection like it's as essential as breathing. It certainly seems to keep him lively and robust — after all, you’re with him far more than anyone else. There are countless days spent sharing scraps from lunch, swimming side-by-side from island to island, or teaching him new tricks as thinly-veiled excuses for play. Even Dad has remarked (with a teasing grin that you pointedly ignore) that Raf seems more like your best friend than anyone else in town.

And really, what's the harm? Spoiling a seal who clearly enjoys your company hardly counts as indulgent. It's simply mutual happiness, a comforting addiction you've willingly embraced: the velvety smoothness of dark-gray fur beneath your fingers, the hidden strength of his sleek body, the endearing little huff he gives when your windbreaker tickles his sensitive whiskers. All of it — absolutely addictive.

"You know exactly how unfair this is," you finally giggle softly, deciding to have mercy on your heart (and Raf’s belly) for now. "Come on, buddy."

"Ppppfffrrrshh."

With a playful little bounce, Raf balances briefly on his foreflippers, wobbling theatrically before launching himself gracefully off the ramp into the calm water below, sending a silvery plume everywhere, and he surfaces once, twice, three times — each pretty leap arching through the dawn-tinted waves, always teasing, never coming nearer than a safe distance of about ten feet from where you stand as he glides easily in lazy circles around the ferry’s bow, waiting patiently for you to climb aboard.

Slowly, the bleary-eyed commuters begin filing onto the ferry, faces etched with lingering dreams and shoulders hunched beneath the invisible weight of daily responsibilities, and you greet each with energetic warmth to start off the day, offering an amiable nod and a reassuring smile as they pass.

"Coffee’s fresh if you need it, other beverage options and food are available as well in the passenger cabin's buffet," you inform, trying to be a comforting balm to their early-morning weariness. Relief flashes briefly across some tired eyes as you watch people go in and out with hands that tighten gratefully around steaming cups, savoring the warmth like precious embers that ward off the chill.

The tourists follow closely behind after your usuals, pouring aboard in a cheerful wave of bright-eyed excitement as they clutch tightly to their guidebooks, maps, and expensive cameras, animated chatter in various foreign languages floods the deck and shoos away the remnants of the sleepy calm, their infectious enthusiasm cascading over you, a vibrant hum that makes even the most mundane tasks feel fresh and lively.

A woman leans eagerly across the railing, eyes searching for something in the water, but doesn't break any safety rules. She must be a seasoned traveler. "Will we see the famous seal today?"

You cast her a self-satisfied glance, nodding knowingly toward the shimmering expanse of the harbor. "I'd say the odds are pretty high, given he's basically imprinted on this ferry," you promise, and as though summoned by your certainty, Raf’s sleek form breaches the gentle swell, fur catching the sunlight in an iridescent cascade. "Right on cue — there's our local star."

A wave of delighted murmurs and gasps ripples across the deck, the enthusiastic click of cameras rising like an orchestra chef's signal as Raf begins his performance, slicing effortlessly between waves and drawing dramatic curves through the water, slowing his movements deliberately to let the ferry glide past before starting his 'warm-up laps' again. Tourists are absolutely losing it over getting to see something like this up close, every splash and proud bob of his glossy head eliciting cheers and applause that would scare every single sea animal around the perimeter. But not Raf. He's used to it by now.

"So, everyone — meet Raf!" you call out above the enthusiastic chatter, pointing with a flourish toward the glossy head bobbing in the waves. "He's friendly enough, so don't panic if he hops aboard for a visit. But keep your distance — not because he'll bite, mind you, but because he'll bruise your ego when he pretends you don't exist. He enjoys your admiration strictly from afar. He's a star like that."

A cheerful chorus of laughter, aww-ing and agreement rings out in response.

Taking advantage of the good mood, you repeat the safery regulations and warnings before you busy yourself assisting passengers, guiding them to their seats and helping stow bags in the compartments tucked beneath. You have to announce the route the ferry will take and how long the stops will be, and then, the ferry is pulling smoothly away from the docks, leaving the harbor behind and setting course over waters shimmering brilliantly beneath the sun.

Several adventurous tourists stake out prime spots along the ferry's edge, though many soon retreat inward, driven away by sharp gusts whipping their hair into tangles and peppering their faces with chilly, sharp salt spray. You stroll leisurely between the seats, pausing here and there for pleasant banter about the scenery, local delicacies, or family holidays gone awry, keeping the conversations is easy and light, and you're met with appreciative nods and smiles.

Out across the waves, sunlight dances like scattered jewels, creating diamond-dust illusions whenever a gust scatters spray towards the sky. Every now and then, Raf's sleek form slices effortlessly through the glittering waves, drawing joyful gasps and delighted pointing from your captivated audience.

To anyone coming aboard for the first time, Raf gives every impression of being charming, approachable — even sociable. A casual observer might assume he’s perfectly at ease with human company, considering how effortlessly he weaves himself into the daily bustle around the ferry, acting every bit the seasoned local soaking up attention. At first, you’d happily fallen for the same illusion, even rejoicing a bit at the idea that he was genuinely warming up to people when he started making regular appearances.

Reality, however, quickly proved less rosy. That endearing exterior was, and still is, hiding a nasty streak you could swear was deliberate, because Raf seems to delight in luring people in, coaxing them into thinking they've made a furry new friend — only to abruptly turn aloof, snubbing them with the ease of a ghoster. It’s as if he takes twisted pleasure in watching visitors wilt in disappointment, and so you've learned to offer friendly yet firm warnings upfront: admire him, laugh at his antics, but don't get too cozy or you’re bound to wind up nursing a heartbreak.

Suddenly, there are gasps among the crowd.

Well, mostly screams at first, before turning into delighted giggles.

"Look, over there!" A child shrieks with uncontainable excitement, sprinting eagerly toward the railing at the ferry’s side deck.

Your head snaps up immediately, and a laugh escapes you before you can suppress it. You didn't think your overly confident companion could still manage to surprise you after so many months spent sharing the sea.

Raf has flopped his way onto the ferry once again. Like he belongs, the cocky little shit. Raf glides gracelessly across the deck, flippers waving with dramatic flair — almost comically bird-like — until gravity decisively interrupts his attempted elegance. His slick body careens straight into a pole, skidding downward with a recoiling thud and ending the journey facedown right beside your boots.

"Oh, so gracious of you to rejoin us, Your Majesty," you tease affectionately, nudging him with your toe. "Seems like you get lazier with every trip. Keep hitching rides like this and we'll have to start charging you."

A squeaky little noise slips from Raf's throat, quickly followed by a sneeze-snort that's frankly too adorable to handle. You can't help yourself — you adore every silly, ridiculous part of this creature with those impossibly round, innocent eyes.

A couple kids swarm over as soon as they gather confidence to approach him. "Can we pet him?"

Look at that. Like clockwork.

With a gentle hand, you stroke his back, fingers gliding down his sleek, slippery fur from head to tail, quietly rewarding him for tolerating the children's excitement. "Alright, Raf is a little jumpy sometimes, so we can only pet him one at a time, okay guys? Remember, slow and gentle. Don't spook him."

One boy bravely kneels, gingerly scratching beneath Raf’s chin, giggling when Raf playfully nudges him with an almost haughty flick of his nose. Another child, more timid, holds out her palm for Raf to sniff and squeals when Raf leans forward to bump her inconspicuously enough to topple her onto her backside. The first wave of curious kids gets the others clustering around when they see there's nothing to be afraid of, and soon enough, squeals are louder than the ferry itself as parents linger close by, protective yet smiling fondly at the playful interactions between their children and the beloved seal.

You know Raf better than anyone, how he's around people — the cautious way he approaches, simultaneously wary and irresistibly curious, how those large, ink-dark eyes study every new movement with intent fascination, watchful yet hesitant as hands reach toward his glossy fur. It speaks volumes about his trust in you that he tolerates curious bombardments of attention every day, only flinching or skittering backward when a visitor's gesture becomes too swift or unpredictable for comfort, just as he's doing right now with these children (whom he's generally more tolerating towards.)

Occasionally though, someone ends up with an accidental nip — never serious enough to break skin, usually just leaving behind a faint pinkish mark and perhaps a startled expression. But thankfully, these incidents are rare, mostly limited to times when you're not around to ease his nerves and mediate with the person who just wants to pet him and most likely (always) in the wrong about boundaries of a wild animal.

And right now, some time after with the fawning of children and parents taking photos in an unofficial queue, you recognize his signals immediately — the way he blows raspberries and starts shifting restlessly — clear indications he's becoming overwhelmed. As soon as you see him squirming to indicate he'll start galumphing away from the eager crowd any second now, you swiftly intervene, encouraging nearby parents to corral their energetic kids and give him some breathing room.

"Alright, that's enough excitement for this morning!" you call cheerfully, ushering everyone back to their seats. "We'll be reaching our destination soon — please find your places and settle in."

As the passengers reluctantly scatter back to their seats and Raf bounces away to get back into the safety and comfort of the sea without even a glance back at you like he's blaming you for his peril, one woman remains beside you, her eyes lingering appreciatively on Raf as he glides effortlessly back into the waves. "You’ve trained him remarkably well."

That comment leaves an acidic residue in your stomach. You've never thought of Raf as an animal you had to tame into shape, or that he needed to be disciplined like a dog. It isn't about interfering with wildlife and never treating him as a pet either (though you also were very well aware). He simply is a companion you were grateful to have in your life that terms like training have always been demeaning to hear pertaining to him.

"Honestly, Raf is the cleverest sea critter I've ever known," you reply with genuine affection, quickly adding, "Though I wouldn't exactly call it 'training.'"

Her eyebrows lift with mild intrigue. "Oh, really?"

"Yeah, nothing formal or complicated. Mostly just treats and encouragement, getting him comfortable around us, making sure human attention is positive for him. Simple stuff," you explain, resting casually against the railing. "He took to accepting snacks from my hand on his own — didn't even have to teach him. He just picked it up naturally, even posing nicely when tourists want photos. Mind you, he used to drive fishermen mad. My friend Elias still swears Raf sabotaged his fishing line out of spite."

Her grin broadens, matching yours, and a strong gust ruffles her blonde pixie cut like fluff from a dandelion caught in the wind. "He sounds ready for the big top. You might just have yourself a circus performer," she jokes lightly. "He seems to put on a real show whenever you're around."

Your smile dims a bit — remembering those early days weren't always so playful. The faint scars on your arm still ache whenever it rains. "I wish," you admit, wrists flexing. "But Raf gets nervous fast and ultimately does his own thing. If he listens to me at all, it’s only because he's comfortable. We grew up together, more or less. Maybe he sees this place as a secondary rookery, I don't know."

She tilts her head in subtle amazement before nodding. "You must really care for him. I’ve never seen someone handle a wild animal so naturally."

"Having his trust is special," you reply earnestly, gaze drifting toward Raf as he circles alongside the ferry, rolling with the waves as though he were just another seabird drifting with the wind. "It's rare to earn that kind of bond with a creature as smart and free-spirited as him. I’m incredibly lucky."

"He really does make one want to believe in selkies," she adds, leaning back against the rail as though preparing for a lengthy conversation.

"Selkies?"

An amused little chuckle answers before words do. "Surely you've heard of them — magical beings said to be able to shapeshift between a seal and human form." Her mouth curves into an odd smile. "It's very sad actually, the stories of the female selkies. They can shed their sealskins at will and take on a human form, but if they lose their coats, they have no choice but to stay ashore forever." She lowers her eyelashes, softening her features. "And even worse — according to lore, some men claim the skins and force the poor women who already have their mates into marriage."

"That's horrible," you reply, swallowing hard. Just thinking of Raf being bound to anyone in such a violent way makes your fists clench instinctively. You may not believe in supernatural fairy tales, but the thought of him being trapped sickens you, even for pretend. "Those men ought to be taken out to sea and keelhauled till their flesh is bloody fish bait."

The image that phrase conjures definitely has her smiling ear-to-ear.

"What about the male selkies? Is the tale genderbent in their case?"

"Well... Selkie men are seducers."

"What?" you almost scream. "That's radically different than—"

"I know," she cuts you off with a reassuring tone. "True to how the society was like back then, they had a lot more freedom. Nothing about coat-stealing or anything. Just women who are unsatisfied in their lives and relationships, also lonely fishermen wives, who summon a selkie lover by shedding seven tears into the sea at high tide on a full moon. And interestingly, those selkie men truly love their human lovers and their offspring. If their genre is romance, the stories of female selkies getting forcefully married are just horror."

"Realism, I guess," you say, trying to wrap your mind around the details.

You briefly picture Raf as one of those legendary beings. Knowing he wouldn't touch any human being with a five foot pole, you imagine it would be nothing short of wishing for a genie in a bottle but summoning a trickster spirit instead.

A jealous scenario with Kyo. Sen is just so cute & precious that you can’t help but baby him. The pillars joke to Kyo “Ooo... you got competition!” 😂 thank you keep it up

Oooh this was cute, bby. Hope you like it! 😌❤️‍🔥

Kyōjurō x F!S/O: Competition (Fluff, SFW Scenario)

Note: This will be set during the Pillar Training Arc, where Kyō will be alive and well enough to take part in it.

***

Days off were extremely rare for the lower ranking slayers attending the Hashira training camps, and it was even rarer for all the Hashira whom were conducting all the training. And when they did all have mercy on their subordinates, they all gathered together to train with each other.

After all, they were all humble enough to realize that their own techniques still needed to be honed. And what better way to get critique than to be surrounded by other people who were better in the things that they were bad at?

So, that was how the nine Hashira found themselves gathered together at the Rengoku estate; all taking a breather after getting done with their own sparring sessions.

Shinobu, Muichiro, Gyōmei, and Mitsuri were casually sitting on the engawa to recuperate in the shade, while the rest— Sanemi, Giyuu, Uzui, and Kyōjurō— all laid on the ground. They were all so breathless, and all so tired, but still held smiles on their faces.

Save for Giyuu, as usual. But there was a lighter aura that surrounded him, which had the others making an effort to include them within their fold.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, (Y/n) and Senjurō were busy trying to finish up plating all of the snacks that they had prepared for the afternoon.

“So how does it feel to be a married man, Rengoku?” Uzui asked with a teasing grin, which Kyōjurō easily returned with an enthusiastic one.

“It’s great! Better than I could have ever imagined! And my wife’s the best; just last night she made my favorite!” The blond practically bellowed, before tacking it off with a boisterous laugh that had the other men around him wincing a little at how loud he was.

However, the moment that the shoji slid open to reveal both (Y/n) and Senjurō, all the men’s eyes turned towards them both. Most looking at the snacks they had, and Kyōjurō looking right at his wife for the sole reason of admiring her beauty.

He even had to muffle a contented and smitten sigh; which must have failed, since he caught Uzui and Sanemi scoffing at his lovestruck reaction.

“I can see why you’re so smitten with her,” Sanemi began gruffly, which Uzui took as his cue to add on to the building fire that was guaranteed to mess with the Flame Hashira.

“But you might have some competition right there; not as her husband, but the cutest thing to her.”

Kyōjurō’s eyebrows furrowed at the Sound Hashira’s words, eyes briefly darting over to him and seeing him subtly nod his head back towards (Y/n).

So, he turned his attention to her and had to bite down on his tongue to keep himself from making a horrified expression. Since she and Senjurō were giving the other Hashira their snacks, and she had reached over to cup Senjurō’s cheek before pinching it slightly.

And, much to his jealousy, she even said, “You’re the cutest, Senjurō. Such a sweet boy.”

Those particular lines had Sanemi and Uzui internally laughing, especially when they saw the ill-concealed jealousy on the blond’s face.

“You might be her husband, but you’re not cute to her. A travesty, really.” Uzui stretched the teasing out, even making a show of shaking his head right at Kyōjurō.

“No. I’m the cutest to my wife.” The blond muttered under his breath; his expression going from bothered to pouting, which just looked plain out childish on him.

Especially since he was only feeding right into Sanemi’s and Uzui’s teasing. All the while, Giyuu was only focused on the tray of food and drinks that Senjurō was bringing over to them.

“Thank you, Senjurō, but where’s (Y/n) going?” Kyōjurō asked— clearly confused by his wife going back into the house. “Is there anything she needs help with?”

“Nee-san just had to get some more sugar for our tea, and she said that you’re all welcome to join us on the engawa, ani-ue.” The younger Rengoku chirped, looking almost too adorable.

And it made the jealousy inside Kyōjurō flare up even more; since he wanted to be the only one that his wife loved the most— no matter if it was so childish of him.

Still, he wanted to save face in front of all the other Hashira; so he stayed put where he was and thanked Senjurō for the snacks and tea. All the while, he kept glancing up to sneak peeks over at his wife and his younger brother joking around and being so cute together.

So, the jealousy within him turned up even more— up to a palpable amount that even Giyuu was interested in how Uzui’s and Sanemi’s goading from earlier would pan out.

“Looks like you have some competition, Rengoku,” Sanemi stated with a slight smile; merely expecting the other Hashira to brush his teasing remark off.

Nobody expected Kyōjurō to practically shove his half-eaten rice ball at Uzui, before getting up and marching towards his wife.

“Oh, Kyō, would you like to join us?” (Y/n) asked with that breathtaking smile of hers, making the Flame Hashira momentarily dumbstruck. Before he plopped himself down next to her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

Of course it made (Y/n)’s face burn red with embarrassment— as she was surrounded by all the high ranking members of the Slayer Corps; and there was her husband, acting so adorably possessive.

Especially when he bit down on her clothed shoulder, before mouthing, “Mine.”

“I... uh... yes, Kyō. I’m yours.”

“And I’m the cutest.” The blond huffed under his breath, which had (Y/n) holding back a flustered and confused giggle. Still, she raised her free hand up and used it to cup her husband’s cheek.

“Yes, Kyō. You’re the cutest.”

“You promise?”

“I promise. Now, what brought this on?”

“Nothing. I just want to be the cutest for you, because you’re the cutest for me.” That statement alone was enough to make (Y/n) want to melt. Thankfully, that wasn’t physically possible; especially when Kyōjurō nipped at her shoulder once more. “Mine.”

Baking with Mami Tomoe

Making sweets with Tomoe is the best

If you don't know how to bake Tomoe would teach you the basics first

In the first few tries you were actually really good for a beginner which made Tomoe impressed

Tomoe will let you choose on what you want to make first

Tomoe will try to make it more entertaining for you other than baking in quietness

The both of you would sometimes scold Bebe for eating some of the ingredients

Sometimes you and Tomoe would have food fights and playfully boop each other's noses with flour or complete each other on whose the best at baking

In the end the both of would eat the sweets that you made with Bebe and drink tea

Hot To Go!

Synopsis. Getting hit by a séx technique? No problem! Of course, you’re there to help.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, séx cursed technique (he’s affected), mating press, they’re REALLY needy, fúck or díe, oraI (fem receiving), jealousy (Nanami’s), bréeding, marathon séx, teary Gojo, creampíe, spítting, cúmplay, thígh ríding, fíngering, VERY pússydrunk boys, true form! Sukuna, dp, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.5k (woah)

A/N. I needed this outta my mind so bad y’all omg. Have a lovely day babygirls <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Just sit on it, woman!

“Please…” Toji drawls, slow and syrupy around your puffy clit. “Who do you think you are, doll? Just sit.”

Now, the problem wasn’t that strange, low-level curse from Toji’s latest job. No, don’t make him laugh - he barely felt whatever that weak cursed technique was. The problem was the way he’d trudged back home, not even thinking of reaching for that door handle before it hits him. 

Suddenly too-sensitive nose getting a whiff of your shampoo - all the way from inside the bedroom. 

All the way to that dangerous, ugly little part of himself that says that if he doesn’t get a taste of you right now then neither of you are making out of this alive. 

And it’s all you can do to gasp, “T-Toji what happened?”

“You. You happened. N’ I don’t care if I hafta oh-” he cuts himself off, hot lips surging forwards - addicted - to place another slow, wet peck on the sweet sweet juices beading at your cunt. “-if I hafta fuckin’ suffocate, m’gonna die if you don’t just sit, goddammit.”

“Fuck!” you keen when two, calloused hands of Toji’s loop around your shaky thighs. Pulling, dragging you down to press your entire weight down onto his slutty mouth. “You’re being so…”

He barely even hears you - too caught up on the way your pretty cunt was drooling down his waiting tongue. 

Prominent Adam’s apple bobbing, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he tips his face up, up, up to let your heady juices slide down his throat. “What? Filthy? Needy? Like a bitch in heat?”

Each hissed out little word has you jolting on top of him - and Toji only tightening his bruising grip with a pained grunt to stop you from disconnecting with his ruthless lips.

“Ohhh fuck stay still, woman. S’the stuff of heaven. You’re so lucky you weren’t anywhere near me after that fight.” he spits at the feeling of you clenching around him, mouth moving a mile a minute even when he slips it past your swollen folds, dragging the muscles along all your hidden sweet spots. “So lucky. So sweet- so perfect thought I was gonna die without a lil’ taste-” 

A shiver runs down your spine - all the way down to where Toji was messily making out with your ravaged pussy. Stretching you out, milking himself on your sloppy entrance. Animalistically, even.

You squeal, “Think I’m gonna die.”

“Shit- and you think I care? Just want- ngh-” And that sinful little scar rubs up against your sensitive folds when Toji grins knowingly, so deep now that his nose was pressing against your pelvis, jaw grinding against you. Big arms orchestrating each mean, long drag of your sloppy pussy up and down his pretty face. Up and down up and down up and- “What did I say? This is all because of y-you, y’know?”

And Toji’s tone is so low, strangled - that the answer almost comes out as a whine. It makes you snap your glassy eyes down to look - to gape at how utterly wrecked he already was. 

Dark hair curtaining those pussydrunk, half-lidded eyes, your slick glossing prettily over his plump lips - all the way down to his cheeks, his sharp jawline. And only getting sloppier with each movement,

“Me?” you blink tearily - fuck, when did it get so good you started crying? And why was Toji much the same? Dark eyes wet and miles away. 

“Mhm.”

“S’your fault for being so- so-” As if the words were failing him, Toji’s only moves to suck harsher on your throbbing clit. Obscene little smacks of his lips following your barely-lucid ah! ah! ah! “-like this.”

Even through the haze of it all, you manage out a huff of laughter, “Like this?”

For this, you get a sharp smack! on the fat of your ass. Thick fingers soothing over the sting almost immediately so that you’re not bowing your body away from Toji’s persistent mouth, “S’it so bad if I wanna taste my sweet girl?.” He moans, sounding so genuinely pained, “But I need you- need to taste this fuuuck pretty cunt so bad. Gonna die if I don’t- if I-” 

“Hngh- yes- fuck fuck fuck, Toji-” your fingers threat their way into his soft hair. Tugging and pulling with each harsh lap at your cunt. Your body arching like a slut as if on command when he speeds up, “-feels too good. M’so close fuck-”

“Be messy, be loud- I don’t fucking care.” he hisses, brows furrowing in concentration. And whatever’s left of that practical little part of your hazy mind wonders whether it doesn’t hurt - whether his tongue wasn’t cramping up, mouth aching. “Jus- jus wan’ you to cum on m’tongue. You’ll let me taste you, right, doll? Want it want it want it so fuckin’ bad-”

You didn’t know who wanted you to cum more - you, or your dear boyfriend.

But when you do - you have you answer. 

“F-fuck, Toji.” your gummy walls clench around where he was bullying his tongue inside. “M’cumming- M’cumming m’cumming m’- ah!” 

“Give it t’me. Give it allll to me that’s it.” Because Toji’s lapping at each and every syrupy drop of your juices, moaning into your cunt as you ride him through your high. Addicted. The vibrations having your hips stuttering and unstable on top of him. 

He lets his thumb draw lazy, tight circles on your sensitive clit. Unstopping - even when you’re blinking back your spotty vision, tears crinkling at the corner of your eyes at the overstimulation. 

Even when you try to pull away from his ruthless mouth - little, messy strings of spit and slick snapping in the nonexistent distance. 

Even when he still darts his tongue out hastily to taste you sloppily, “One more - didn’t get enough of m’fill.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Can’t- won’t wait!

Everyone knows that your husband Nanami was protective - rightfully so. Everyone knows that just a toe out of line could have the stoic man snapping - showing off exactly why he was the one that put that pretty lil’ ring on your finger. 

But never like this. 

Never so…crazed.

And it’d only taken one too many flirty comments from some new intern in the time it’d taken Nanami to rush over there from his latest jujutsu mission. Just for your husband to drag you away from the party, barely paying attention to anything else.

Though, when you caught a glimpse of his eyes you didn’t think he could - gaze strangely hazy, breath a bit shorter, skin flushed a delicate pink. 

“Can’t believe it.” he groans, pressing you up against the wall of the nearest empty room he could find. Fat cock just nudging past that feeble ring of resistance of yours. “Can’t fuckin’ believe it. Fuck-”

You’re jumping slightly with each little profanity spat into your open mouth, bleary eyes blinking up at your Nanami. Managing out, “Is everything hah- alright, Ken?”

“Can’t fucking believe it.”

There it was again. 

That low, accusing little mantra - this time panted out into the side of your racing pulse. Breaking ever-so-slightly at the end when Nanami’s bullying his swollen cock deeper past your plushy walls, the curve of his girth having you arch like such a slut against the wall. 

Nanami growls, “Can’t fucking believe-” he slides two hands under your weakening thighs easily, picking you up like some little ragdoll to be split apart on his cock. Murmuring against your mouth, “Can’t believe you won’t let me jus’ fuck you right then and there, my love.”

You don’t know what shocks you more - Nanami’s words or the way he’s immediately letting gravity do all the work, sliding your dripping cunt so easily down his cock. Inch by fucking inch. 

All up until your pelvis was flush against those neat tufts of blond at his base. God, you don’t think you’ve ever seen Nanami so impatient. 

“Thought I was gonna die without your sweet cunt.” He was barely even breathing. Eyes glassy - crazed. Voice so deep and ragged when he whispers into your ear. “Should’ve jus’ let me fuck you out there, right in the middle of the ball. Made a scene n’ showed them all please- we could go back-”

And it takes you a few seconds to realize that this is Nanami. Your Nanami.

Seriously, what the fuck happened on that mission?

“But- what?” you squeal, gummy walls swallowing him up so readily despite your confusion. “Who are you and what have you done with my husband?”

And this little comment makes Nanami physically stop, dark eyes glinting with something so dark - dangerous. Brows furrowing as he utters, “Nothing. Did you forget that I’m your husband, darling?” Having you scrambling to hang onto his broad shoulders as he walks over to splay you out so prettily on a nearby desk. “Or do I jus’ hafta remind you?”

It’s all it takes for Nanami to thrust up into your heavenly cunt. One hand holding you still on the cool desk, while the other just ravages your throbbing clit in time with his needy cock. 

“F-fuck, Ken— oh- yes yes yes-”

Fat tip pressing up against your g-spot like he had a point to prove, spearing you at each harsh, bullying thrust that has you pushed further and further up the desk. Over and over. 

The desk shifts ever-so-slightly with every smack of Nanami’s heavy balls against your ass. Creaking - but not loud enough over your obscene moans. 

“Stop-” he chokes out at the feeling of your pussy being inched away from him. You weren’t running from him that easily. Which is exactly the thought ringing through his mind when Nanami circles his large hands underneath your thighs, dragging you right across to meet his sculpted front. “Stop fuckin’ running away.” Nevermind the fact that you weren’t - voluntarily at least. “Please- need it so badly, s’like m’burning without ya. You’re gonna take my cock like a hah- g-good lil’ wife, okay?”

And Nanami knows maybe he should slow down - maybe ease you into it, first. But either it was that stupid fucking cursed technique talking or maybe the sight of some loser being all starry-eyed at you, he’s fucking you into the desk so mean. 

“Should’ve- would’ve.” he’s grunting, and you already know what he’s talking about. “Saw you in this pretty lil’ dress and fuck darling you don’t know how h-hard it was to ngh keep m’self in check.” Teeth nipping and leaving little bite marks down your neck, and shit if you were in any better state of mind you’d have had the rationality to be worried about them - about how people would talk if they saw those. “N’ I would’ve loved to. Don’ know how much I fuck- w-worship this pussy, my love. How much I was dreaming about it all day long.”

The creaking grows louder.

Your head is spinning right now, “All day long?”

“Mhm…” Nanami slurs, a loose little smile playing on his lips. “Always do. But today- fuck, today. Needed to feel you or I thought I was gonna ngh- die. Or worse.” 

“Or worse.”

Bang! 

In a split-second, you’re back bunched up in Nanami’s arms - his cock still buried deep within you. Moving. Merciless. Even though his eyes flicker downwards at the pile of wood that used to be a desk. “Lose you that promotion.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - Use?

“Use me.” 

“What?”

“Use me, goddammit.”

Geto sounded almost hysterical now - words ragged, a pitch higher than normal. Staring at you with that drunk, wide-eyed gaze while you perched right on his muscular thigh. Looking as bewildered as you felt at that moment when he lets out a humorless little laugh, “That curse- fuck I should’ve known before ingesting- shit.” 

Fingers frantic - almost tearing through the fabric of his boxers as he removes them feverishly. 

And his cock didn’t just look rock-hard no- it looked so so angry. So painful. Flushed a pretty red at his weepy tip, leaking down, down, down straight to where you’d unconsciously wrapped your hand around him.

“O-oh.” he gasps in relief when you’re dragging your fist up his cock. Head throwing back to show off that long, beautiful neck - dusted with a blush going all the way down. “Could cum from just this fuuuck.”

And this was nothing like the Geto Suguru you were used to - the sweet talker who’d have you falling apart with just a few words. The one that treated sex like a game - where you were always his pretty lil’ loser.

“Care to elaborate, Sugu?” you flash him a smug smirk - one that makes his swollen cock twitch traitorously in your hand. “Shit, you’re so needy right now you could cum untouched.”

“You little bitch.” he spits out, greedy gaze stuck on the way you were beginning to drag your sloppy cunt up and down his toned thigh. In a way that makes it impossible for Geto to tear his eyes away from the way you were intentionally catching your throbbing clit on each and every dip of muscle, spreading your puffy folds. “You know what I mean.”

You’re batting your lashes so deceivingly innocently, grinding your hips down harder. “I don’t.”

As if to prove your point, you squeeze around his aching dick even harder, pumping your fist all the way from his soaked base up to his sensitive slit. 

Immediately, he bucks his hips up wildly, precum smearing a glossy sheen all over your wrist. “F-fuck you.” he spits. “You little-” And oh you should’ve known that Geto was Geto despite whatever he’d been cursed with. That it’d only take him a split second to reach a hand over to smear the mess of sweet sweet juices you were trailing over his thigh. Bullying his dripping wet fingers between your lips, “You talk too fuckin’ much, gorgeous.”

Oh.

Oh, you were fucked.

“You really think I’d let you g-get away with hah that much?” Geto drawls against your ear, fingers dancing down to control your movements riding his thigh. “N’ after ngh- I was so nice.” He was pulling - dragging you at a mean little pace now. “Should’ve just shut up n’ taken it. Should’ve just used me when I asked.”

It’s like he’d forgotten all about his lust-drunk little state. 

You’re mewling, muffled around his thick fingers. Something that only makes his lips curl up into a syrupy, smug grin, “Who’s cumming untouched now? Got somethin’ to fuck- say?”

You do - and you’re thumbing teasingly under Geto’s neat slit, reveling in the way that makes his harsh little rant die in his throat. Moving your hand up and down to first his cock needily in hasty, long movements like you were trying to fuck something delicious out. 

“You little minx hah-” he’s pressing his fingers right at the back of your tongue, hot mouth kissing away the salty tears welling up behind your eyes. “S-so dirty.”

And it was dirty - your hands coated in Geto’s sheen of precum, his thigh glossy with your slick. But neither of you could bring yourselves to be disgusted - not one bit. 

Not when Geto was forcing down your hips harder, bouncing his knee to match your slutty little tempo. Faster. More desperate. Letting you concentrate on driving him fucking insane with your soft hands - palming and running only on the need to making him cum. To have him spill so hotly all over your hands. 

“Yeah, oh God that’s right- Use me use me use me-” Geto’s mouth slacks open, eyes heady and cracked only to eye the way you’re clenching and quivering around nothing. Your hips only stuttering - getting sloppier and sloppier with each weighty, hard slide down his thigh. He groans, “Fuck fuck fuck m’close-”

“M-me too-” you whine, voice breaking so pathetically at the end. “So much for coming untouched.”

Close - too close.

Close enough that you’re barely even noticing the way Geto’s stiffening up underneath you. Breath hitching in his throat before-

Slam!

“Wha-” Your back hits the plush mattress - so fast that you almost have half the mind to wonder whether this was some figment of your imagination. But, no, Geto’s hot tip nudging at your puffy folds was real. Dangerous. Waiting for just the right moment to rip you apart. His bated breath against your ear was real - very, very real. 

“You didn’t really think I’d let you off that easy, did you, gorgeous?”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - “S-sex?”

Oh, Choso sounded so fucked out just from uttering that.

And you feel the way your cunt clenches at that broken, almost-whiny little plea coming from your best friend’s mouth. Big, dark eyes blinking up at you dazedly in a way that makes you tighten your legs around his waist, pinned to the floor of- fuck, which curse site was this again?

“Mhm, Cho.” you hum, drinking in the shallow pants he lets out into your mouth when you slide his leaky, angry tip between your swollen folds. Barely teasing him between your slit, “S’the only way to get rid of this technique, right?”

Clothes are torn off, breaths coming out in pants. You don’t know if Choso registers your words - shit, you don’t know if he even hears you right now. 

Barely even breathing as he slides two shaky hands of his to rest up at your hips. Giving you a reassuring squeeze once. Twice. Before pulling you down in a split second. 

“Yes!” the word bursts out from his lips. Choso drags your body up, up, up his throbbing length like some ragdoll - until his pretty pink tip was just circling around your sloppy hole - only to bring you all the way back down again. Barely even halfway in yet, but the stretch - fuck, the stretch had you arching for more. “Yes yes yes yes yes fuck yes if you feel just like- like heaven-”

You never thought your sweet Choso would be so needy. Would buck his hips so ferally into your syrupy sweet cunt until you were second-guessing why it ever took so long to do something like this.

Until today’s fateful little mishap with another curse, that is - and oh, you’ve never been more grateful for that stray cursed technique. 

“Hngh-” you screw your eyes shut when the curve of his dick brushed against your sweet spots - unforgivingly. Spreading the fat of your ass in two big hands, trying to squeeze himself inside deeper. Again. And again and again and- “S-slow down, Cho–”

‘Slow down?” Choso breathes from below you - sounding so genuinely bewildered. Still thrusting up in stubborn, long grinds. “Y-you want me to slow down? After- after this?” He’s giving a mean thrust into your gummy pussy, eyes widening down at the heavenly view of your puffy lips sucking him up. Spread needily, bulging around his girth in a way he’d have felt sorry for if he was in any better state of mind. “Slow down- Yeah, gotta- gotta slow down.”

But he only fucks up into you harder. Stronger. Like it killed him to do anything but take you right now and right there on the floor. Messy - no rhythm or rhyme of his hips, just running on pure need and the feeling of you milking his poor cock.

And the idea of that - of your best friend being drunk on the feeling of you wrapped around his aching cock - has you a little more breathless than you’d like. Plushy walls clamping down tight. 

Almost immediately, Choso’s throwing his head back, gasping out a stuttering, “O-oh so ngh- that’s what it feels like. Always- always imagined if…” You don’t get to hear the rest of his sentence because two long fingers of his are latching on shyly to your sensitive clit, rolling softly. 

And if he were any less of a man, Choso would be cumming on the spot - fuck, he’d be passing out. 

“Fuuuuck tighter than I’d dreamt of.” he whimpers, cock twitching wildly inside your dripping cunt. Deft fingers find a lewd little rhythm to toy with your ravaged clit. “Have to slow down- have to- can’t.”

He was out of control now. Sloppy. Teary praises leaving those pretty pink lips with each bullying piston of his hips. 

“Ch-Choso!” you whine, dragging your hips down to meet his sloppy cadence.

Choso’s eyes flutter to the back of his head, grunting “Yes, yes that’s it, my baby. Say my name.” Using his inhuman strength to put pressure on your hips. “Take it- take it please. Wan’ see you full of m’cock.” All the way until the heady bedroom echoes with a loud smack! his fat head kissing your cervix, heavy balls imprinting against your ass. 

And then it’s like something snapped. 

Choso’s sanity - his restraint. Possibly you by the end of this. 

Because in all of two seconds, he’s flipping the two of you over. Your back pressed against the cool floor, legs thrown over his shoulders until your knees were folded all the way up into your tits, Choso groans into your ear at the all new angle. 

Not wasting a second longer before fucking you in this mean little mating press, abs rippling with each heavy, calculated movement. 

“Baby…” Choso drags his lips up your neck, sharp canines biting down on your earlobe. Gentle - the complete opposite of his rock-hard cock. “Think if I cum inside s’gonna solve the curse?”

Oh.

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - True kinda love

You thought you’d seen everything there is about the king of curses. Anything from those smug kisses he’d give you after taking care of “scum curses” for fun to the times he’d begrudgingly watch sappy movies with you - only to fuck away your tears at the end. 

You thought.

But oh you’d never seen him like this - yukata torn apart, no longer fitting how much bigger was, how much stronger his form was. His true form. 

Muscles just bulging on all four arms, eyes half-lidded, dark nails leaving neat little indents where he held your squirming hips sat prettily on two matching, painfully hard cocks. 

Well, “sat prettily” was an understatement - right now you felt so full you could’ve just died.

“Heh, better not die on me just yet because I feel like m’gonna kill fucking everyone..” Sukuna’s large pecs rumble with laughter- shit, had you said that out loud? “Everything.” Long tongue coming up to lick a hot trail up the big fat tears streaming down your cheeks. Whispering raggedly, “God- fuck! How’d you want it? Like I’m me or like hah- this?”

It’s all you can do to crane your head up deliriously, batting your teary lashes in a way that makes Sukuna twitch so wildly. 

His veins thump! thump! thumping into your gummy walls, fat heads nudging right at your bruised cervix - your lungs it felt like. Hips grinding up into yours when he’s shoving himself impossibly deeper, “Answer me.”

“Fuck!” you’re gasping, stupidly. Glassy gaze flitting down to the two angry cocks bullied inside your poor pussy. And still going. “N-no, your true ngh- form- fuck-” 

“Oh yeah?”

Your words are coming out a garbled mess, making such a sly, dangerous leer spread across Sukuna’s lips. Fucking up faster. Sloppier. 

Oh, the feeling had him lightheaded. Had him thankful he lost control of his powers to maintain that pathetic human image of his. Had him ramming past those rings of muscle again. And again. And again and again- oh he was fucked.

“Fuuuck, feel like m’burning. M’so lucky.” Sukuna slurs out, a free hand of his busying itself toying with your throbbing clit. Pulling, rolling in a way he knows will have you whining so prettily. “Sooo fuckin’ lucky I didn’t kill that fuckin’ trash curse.” Glossing his wrists with your sweet sweet juices, lips kissing at your heated ears. “Because now I get to see how much of a slut my girl is f’me, hm?”

The only answer he’s getting is a wet string of profanities that even Ryomen Sukuna himself is proud of. 

Because suddenly Sukuna’s crashing his achy tips against your g-spot, throwing his head back at how fucking sinful it felt to be rubbing up against himself. 

“Shit- yer only getting tighter.” he spits, strained. Sculpted thighs rippling underneath you where he was fucking up into you in jagged, methodical half-thrusts to mold your sweet cunt to him. “Ngh- fuuuck gonna be the death of me, pretty girl.”

“Please-” you’re clawing at the sheets, the headboard, Sukuna’s shoulders - anything and everything to keep your sanity. Begging for- what? Mercy? More? “Please please- m’so close. Kuna ngh-”

He cranes his head down to kiss at your slack lips, breaths feverish. “Damn. Open that m-mouth now, brat. Jus’ a bit- jus’ a bit more.” 

Your mouth is sagging open, tongue lolling out before you know it - positioned perfectly for the bigger man to purse his lips and spit. Once. Twice. 

And Sukuna knew he had perfect aim, he knew he could’ve made this easy for you - but, no, the steady stream of saliva is splattering against the side of your mouth. A large thumb of his coming up to swipe the mess across your wobbly lower lips. 

“My girl deserves to be treated like the slut she is, right?”

His true form has those inhumanly large fingers moving so unfairly fast on your clit, rolling and pinching in an obscene little blur. 

“Oh- oh my god-” you sob, ass stinging where his heavy balls were smacking you - sure to leave a few embarrassing marks. And fuck he’s not even all the way in yet. “Y-you’re so deep- so much. Close Hngh-”

Sukuna’s grinning, two hands helping just drag you down his sloppy length, until your sopping folds were kissing at his toned pelvis. Another dancing up to knead and grope your sloppy hole open wider, “Say it. Say who you’re acting like such a slut for.”

“It’s- fuck!”

“Say it properly, my cockdrunk girl. Say it if you wanna cum.”

“You!” your words fail you pathetically, and the only think you’re moaning next is Sukuna’s name - like a prayer. “S’you Kuna oh-”

And then you’re cumming - white-hot pleasure behind your eyes, and Sukuna’s name in your mouth. Arching into his body. His tongue slipping past your puffy lips to muffle his own moans because God this was the hardest he’d cum in his life and he wasn’t about to drown out any of your pretty moans with it. 

“Oh-” Sukuna shudders, fucking you over and over through your high. Two hands carrying your weight and- shit, when did he stand up? “Yeahh, milk me like that, just it mm knew you were so good f’me-”

You’re realizing with a jolt that he’d gotten up, using gravity to his advantage and sliding you up and down his swollen cocks like some glorified sextoy. So easily. So sinfully while he filled your poor overfilled over and over. 

Thick, hot globs of cum that drool down your messy cunt, so fucking much from both his throbbing cocks. Like he couldn’t - wouldn’t stop. 

Enough to form a pool at Sukuna’s feet. One he doesn’t even give a second glance before muttering, “Ya better hope you’re on the pill because the curse and I are far from over, brat.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - STRONGEST

You thought it would bate by his second orgasm. 

And when it didn’t, well, surely the third time was the charm…

Or, well on the slight chance that that didn’t work - the fourth would be the last, right? Right?

“Sweetheart…” Gojo mutters, teary, red-rimmed eyes peering so unfairly into your hazy ones. Folding your trembling, limp legs back into such a tight mating press. “Jus’ one more time. Please? I promise this fifth time’s gonna be the last.” 

Wrong. And here you were, folded up in half underneath the great Gojo Satoru - the strongest, the same sorcerer that can take down a special grade and let himself be hit by its cursed technique (“out of curiosity!”) in the same breath. 

“A-another?” you mutter, but it comes out much more breathless than you intended. Thighs tightening involuntarily where they were thrown over Gojo’s broad shoulders. “Toru, are you sure-”

Your dear boyfriend’s only giving you a slow, lazy nod. A dopey smile spreading over his face when he spots the trail of gooey white dribbling down your poor, overfilled pussy, gushing out of you with each languid thrust. Oh- shit, when had he started moving again? You bet even he didn’t know that answer.

And before you can react, Gojo’s taking the time to pool the sinful mess on two of his fingers - promptly bullying them back into your already stuffed cunt.

Fuck, you’re not making it out of this alive.

“Shit, taking me so e-easily, huh?” Gojo’s raw, pink lips fall open when your sloppy hole stretches just enough to accommodate his long fingers. “Y-yeah tha’s it. Take it like m’good girl.” Tears of sensitivity pricking behind his eyes when you clench around him so fucking tight, your plushy walls just milking his ravaged cock. “F-fuck s’too sensitive. Too much!”

And despite his own little whines at the back of his throat, Gojo makes no move to stop. 

Did he say he’d stop? Ah, his fried brain couldn’t remember anymore.

None at all, instead, he’s raising his glossy finger pads right up to his mouth. Blue eyes falling shut when he presses them inside momentarily, sucking, savoring the taste of you and him and you-

“You’re t-too much, Toru.” you squeal in embarrassment. 

And that’s all it takes the strongest to let out a barely-lucid hum of agreement - pulling out his fingers with a lewd pop! 

“I know, sweetheart, I know.” he leans down to hum, breath hot against your face. “But what can I- ngh- do-” Each word was punctuated by a harsh, sloppy smack of his hips against your own. Not even bothering pulling all the way out - Gojo doesn’t have to, because he’s nudging all your sweet spots so expertly anyway. Grunting out over those absolutely lewd squelches, “I just want- need you so bad. S’like m’burning from the inside hah- o-out if I don’t ngh fuck this pretty pussy.” He’s babbling deliriously, bent so far down now that your forehead is pressed up against his, thighs burning at the stretch. “-need it so bad. Need it - my one weakness, sweetheart. S’gonna kill me- gonna be the death of me oh-”

“Please!” you think you could almost feel Gojo’s cum sloshing around your walls right now. Fucking you into the mattress so hard - so deep - that you wonder by what miracle the neither of you haven’t broken anything yet. 

It wasn’t a miracle - it was his reverse cursed technique, which the both of you discover only much, much later. 

But for now you’re only clinging desperately to Gojo’s muscled shoulders, bones popping in protest. Fucked-out whimpers spiling from his pretty mouth each time he was slamming his poor, overused cock inside you. Teary eyes screwing shut because shit it hurt so good. Too good. 

“F-Fuck!” you’re gasping when he dances his fingers straight down to draw hasty, feverish little circles on your poor clit. Fingers clawing at his persistent wrist, “Oh my god-”

Gojo hums into your mouth, “J-just ‘Toru’ is fine.”

You let his cocky little comment slide - if only because your boyfriend was smashing into your g-spot repeatedly now. Over and over.

Voice about an octave higher when he’s groaning, “Y-yeah, that good? Ngh- ah!” His hips were stuttering forwards - messy, so so needy like he was drunk on those cute lil’ whines tearing from you with each drag of his cock. “Yeah fuck fuck f-fuck yer killin’ me - pussy too good, feels like m’gonna die.”

God, he really did feel like he could die. Fuck. 

“M-me too ngh, Toru.” you wrench your eyes open when something so wet splashes onto your cheeks. Boring into Gojo’s glassy, pussydrunk eyes. Crying now. “M’so close-”

“O-oh yeah?”

And then he’s speeding up - if that was even possible. Flushed skin smacking against yours harder. Just a bit more calculated. Like he couldn’t stop. Uncontrollable. 

Enough for Gojo to blink away the slight haze in his eyes and actually look at you. Look at the way your lips wobble with each glide of his fat tip against your sensitive spots, the way you milk him harder when he’s smearing his mess of cum all over your clit. At those delirious little heart-eyes you give him when he only lets his jaw sag open, such fucking embarrassing whimpers of your name being drawn all the way from his overworked cock. 

“Cum f’me, sweetheart.” he manages to grit out. “Cum f’me cum f’me, please. Please.”

And how could you not when the strongest asks you so prettily?

You don’t know who cums first - just that your own orgasm is a wave of tingles that shoot all the way from your toes right into your stupidly fucked-out brain. Again and again and Gojo-

Oh, Gojo can’t do anything but bury his head into the crook of your neck. Sharp teeth biting down hard at the point of your pulse as he cums over and over and over. Shooting thick, hot spurts of seed right into your silky cunt. A sinful little white that drools out of your sloppy slit - too much. 

“Sweetheart…” Oh, you knew that tone - too well. “Y’know how I h-have the ah- six eyes n’ this was only our fifth round and six is really a nice num-”

“M’gonna kill you, Toru.”

“S’that dirty talk for our sixth round?”

A/N. TEARY GOJO TEARY GOJO TEARY GOJO

Plagiarism not authorized.

"S'NOT MY BIRTHDAY..." silly girl, thinking you need an occasion in order to be spoiled by them!

with gojo, nanami x fem!reader

notes trying out this writing thing again lol

in previous relationships, you had to deal with the bare minimum. a generic greeting card on valentine's day, a bunch of snacks for your birthday, and a necklace for christmas because 'that's what girls like, right?'

now, with him, it's different. he has no qualms about getting you anything your eyes linger on, no matter the price. he had so much money, he picked things up and swiped his card without so much as a glance at the cost. it baffled you sometimes.

it happened was early on in your relationship. you then quickly learned to just sit back and let him spoil you!!

GOJO

satoru's fingers were laced with yours as he swung your connected arms between you. he inhaled deeply, looking up at the high ceiling of the mall. "today's a good a day as any to throw some cash, don't you think baby?"

you giggle and squeeze his hand. "one or two things should be okay." that's what you budgeted for, anyway.

he rolled his eyes, scolding you for your tiny imagination before allowing you to pull him along to your favorite stores.

it wasn't long before your eyes spotted the store you loved but couldn't afford. your stare was glued to the window display, all the cute tops and pants and bags and shoes and bracelets and...

when he felt your steps slow, satoru glanced at you. you were laser focused on the clothing store—naturally, he sharply turned towards it.

"hey!" you squeaked at the sudden change of direction, and you hurried to match his pace again. "toru??"

"i saw you looking, baby, why didn't you just say you wanted to check it out?" he teased.

you looked over to the side, embarrassed. "i... i don't wanna tempt myself, cus i know i'll gaslight myself into buying something."

he narrowed his eyes, not in scorn but in confusion. "who said you were buying anything?"

"huh?" you chirped, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

gojo stared blankly at you. you really were adorable, thinking he wouldn't spend his last dime on whatever you wanted, regardless of how trivial it was. a smile pulled at his lips.

"my sweet girl," he cooed. "my sweet, slow girl..."

you gasped indignantly and poked satoru's side, earning a giggle from him. "slow?!"

"obviously, i'll by whatever you want, silly." he tugged you towards the entrance of the store.

"but..." you resisted his pull. "it's not my birthday or anything..."

huh? he pouted. "as if i need a special reason to get you stuff."

"but..." heat creeped up your neck as you reveled in the unfamiliar feeling of being spoiled. something inside you told you that he was just being nice and was waiting for you to shut him down, save him the expenses. "it's not fair, is it? i didn't get you anything so far..."

his face fell slightly as he pulled you away from the busy traffic of the moving crowds. satoru pulled your chin up to face him. "i dunno what's running through that pretty head of yours, but answer me this, okay?"

you nod.

"you want it?" he gestured towards the store.

you hesitated, eyes straying from his face. he quickly squished your cheeks, causing your eyes to widen and snap to his. "—!"

"don't overthink it, pretty girl, just tell me."

"yesfh." you answer dejectedly, muffled against his hands.

"then you'll have it." he told you. "i want you to have anything and everything you say you want. i wanna buy it for you. and being able to hear you say 'my boyfriend got this for me' is all i need in return." he grinned cheekily.

you pouted, looking unbelievably cute in his eyes. he despises the partners of your past for leading you astray, thinking you needed to do something special in order to be appreciated. don't worry, he'll fix that in no time.

he pecked your pursed lips before hugging you. "okay?"

you giggle. "okay."

"yay!! now let's go!!"

by the end of the day, he had to call ichiji to help carry all the bags to the car. he was so proud of you!

NANAMI

kento was your shadow as you glided through the store, picking up things and setting them down.

"oh, this is so cute!" you squealed holding up a tee for him to see.

he smiled, more because of your excited expression than the t-shirt. "it is. you should get it."

you hummed, in thought. your hands drifted over the material, picking up the tag before inhaling sharply. "nah, another time."

he frowned. you'd done this at every store so far, picking up things you said you liked but leaving them behind. he was bewildered. "but... you like it, do you not?"

you winced, hoping this topic wouldn't come up. "i do! it's just the price. out of my budget, you know?" you said, trying to be light. you burned with discomfort. might as well just say you're poor.

kento frowned. "oh..."

"yeah."

you quickly turned away, avoiding the confused look on his face.

"y/n." he called you.

"...yes?" you glanced behind you, seeing him standing over the shirts.

"are you under the impression that you would be paying?" he asked.

you blinked. "oh?" yes, you were, but you were surprised to learn that he had the opposite understanding. "well... yeah."

he frowned, disappointed with himself. "i'm sorry. i didn't intend to make you feel that way."

you stepped closer, rubbing his arm soothingly. "what are you talking about?" you laughed softly. "you didn't make me feel any kind of way. i'm not upset, if that's what you're getting at. i never expected you to spend your money on me."

his frown only deepened. oh, how he has failed. "why not?"

you faltered. how did you manage to make it worse? "i'm not sure i understand..."

kento shook his head. "have you been thinking you'd be using your own money for purchases? this whole time?"

"um..."

"sweetheart, i'm paying. for everything, at all times." he refused to hear anything else, cutting you off when you opened your mouth to retort. "we'll have to circle back to the stores we previously visited."

it was your turn to frown. "kento, it won't be my birthday for a few months! you don't have to get me anything right now."

"what does your birthday have to do with anything?" he asked, genuinely confused. "i don't mean to interrogate you, my love, but i think i am the one who doesn't understand."

"you'd get me anything i asked for?" you shoot back, spelling it out for him. "for no reason?"

"for one reason," he replied. "simply because you want it. it'd make you happy."

warmth spread across your face. "that's two reasons." you mumbled.

he clicked his tongue, exacerbating your bashfulness when he pulled you into his side. he kissed your forehead. "you make me laugh, y/n. i was so confused as to why you weren't getting anything. surely that's not how you usually shop."

he bought that shirt for you, as well as the many things you thought were cute at all the stores you stepped foot in. now, you shop without any hesitations.

© miniimight ! thanks for reading <3

𝐀𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐮𝐫 𝐏𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧(𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬)

𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘐 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯'𝘵 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘰 𝘐 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘺 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘐 𝘴𝘶𝘣𝘮𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘵.

ℕ𝕊𝔽𝕎 𝔹𝔼𝕃𝕆𝕎 𝕋ℍ𝔼 ℂ𝕌𝕋

𝗖𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘀: 𝗕𝗿𝗲𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗞𝗶𝗻𝗸(𝗦𝗽𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗳𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆), 𝘗𝘳𝘦𝘨𝘯𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘺 𝘔𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴, 𝘉𝘶𝘭𝘨𝘦 𝘒𝘪𝘯𝘬(𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘥), 𝘉𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘨𝘦, 𝘙𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘚𝘦𝘹 (𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥), 𝘚𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘚𝘦𝘹, 𝘊𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘔𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘰𝘴 𝘗𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘚𝘦𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘜𝘴𝘦, 𝘚𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘈𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘶𝘳(𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵)

𝕀𝕗 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕕 𝕒𝕟𝕪 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕤𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 𝕥𝕣𝕚𝕘𝕘𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘, 𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕖 𝕕𝕠 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕡𝕠𝕤𝕥!

》Chaos Daddy, yes Chaos Daddy, is King of Camelot which means he can have whatever he wants whenever he wants. He chooses to spend his time using sex as a stress reliever. And Arthur has a lot of pent up stress so...buckle up people it's time to hit the road.

》Let's get this out of the way first.

》No matter what you do, Arthur is always going to ask consent. Whether it is to cum inside of you or if its to kiss you. He's always asking and it's sexy as fuck. He's the King of Camelot, King of Chaos, and the King of Consent. Chaos Daddy will not fuck you without a definite yes. No matter how possessive he is, how jealous he is, how fucking desperate he is, he's going to ask.

》King of fucking Consent-

》Arthur is constantly stressed, little things sending him off the rails due to his new powers. With Chaos now as his new power, he has heightened senses. The tiniest things that his lover does can set him off. It could be the way they walk or the tiniest tease of a lick to their upper lip. He will whisk them away and have them up against a stone cold wall in no time.

》If he has his arm regenerated, it most likely resembles something of his old arm. It's just maybe black and clawed like a demon's regenerated limb. I'd say sort of like Derieri's.

》When he's finally gotten his lover in a private corner, Arthur is sure to use his body language and hands to show them what he wants. Hands wandering along their body, groping and squeezing the squishy parts of their flesh.

》A sign that he wants sex could be him gripping his partner's thighs. Honestly, Arthur is a thigh man. Drilling into his partner from above, he grips both hands into their thighs and splits them apart to the point where their muscles are getting that delicious stretching feeling.

》There's always a hand on his partner's thigh because Arthur does not quit. He will have his hand on their thigh when eating them out, using his tongue to lick along their entrance and eat them out with such skill.

》Chaos daddy likes to fuck his lover from behind in a mirror so he can see their expressions. Eye contact is a big thing for Arthur because he loves to see the expressions that his partner makes. Their faces and noises get him off, causing him to just fuck them harder than before.

》Arthur has a major breeding kink due to him being a king in all. He has to eventually have an heir and the idea of his lover being swelled with his seed makes him go crazy.

》He will often go for 3 rounds of sex when he's up for it. These aren't just sexual rounds, its a 'session' for him. He wants to ensure that his lover knows that they are his. He will be fucking them, cum inside of them, keep himself inside for a few moments, and then go for another round with his release still inside from the previous sessions.

》 The dirty talk is real-

》"You're so lucky to be filled up with your King's seed...Be a grateful bitch and take it~!"

》"You're my loyal slut..."

》"Tell me you want my seed. Tell me you want me to cum inside of you...~ Beg me for it~..."

》"If you want to come on my dick then beg for it..~" 》"Want me to come inside you? That's so sexy baby."

》Makes a BIG DEAL about you having his 'royal seed' inside of you. Even if he asks to come inside of you, he still makes you beg for it. He thinks that you're his slut and that you need to be grateful that such a powerful king is taking the time to fuck you.

》Of course, this is all just talk because he is actually the sweetest little aftercare sunshine ball even if he's been taken over by Chaos.

》Speaking of Chaos, he uses Chaos to get himself off. Once his lover found him masturbating using Chaos. His hand was bracing himself on the bed post whilst using makeshift stone hands to force his thighs apart whilst another rubbed up and down his shaft. He looked at his lover, one eye open, and moaned their name to come help him relieve his stress.

》 "C-Come over here and h-help your King~!"

》Let's just say that his lover ended up being shoved down onto his dick, riding him whilst the hand played with his balls. Chaotic hands roamed all over both their bodies, and the only sounds the poor people in the castle could hear were Arthur and his lover loudly moaning each other's names despite Arthur using Chaos to fuck them both.

》He has their wrists tied above their head, summoning Chaos tentacles to feel along their body whilst he thrusts his hips forward in a deep and rough motion. He can feel everything that they do, able to imagine its his own hands feeling along his partner's body. Whenever Arthur feels his partner tighten on him, he throws his head back and gives out a loud moan or a broken whine.

》Very expressive when it comes to being in bed. He knows what he wants- He will tell you what he wants in the moment and then ask you if you're okay with it.

》Luckily, his lover is usually a very open person~ 》He makes sure he slowly slides into them, hips touching each other, and fills them up all the way before slowly rolling his hips into them. The best way Arthur does this is in doggy position.

》They will have their body pressed into the bed, ass up, whilst Arthur's back and whole body is pressed up against them. He gives a few short shallow thrusts before pulling out and then fucking right back into them.

》If his partner doesn't hold back, Arthur doesn't hold back. And he will comply when you want more- fucking harder, deepening his cock inside of them, causing them to be louder and louder than usual.

》There's a lot of 'yeahs' and praising from his side, constantly telling them how tight they are and how good that they feel. When he cums inside of them, its to the point where there's a bulge in their stomach.

》Arthur will purposefully go multiple rounds to see this bulge, even if its the smallest thing. Its indication that his dick is big enough to keep all of that seed inside of his lover. And sometimes he will sit back whilst using Chaos to fuck his partner after, and jack off to the sight.

》Poor poor poor (Name)....

》Any kinks his lover have will be incorporated into his sex routine-

》He enjoys cumming right at the same time as his partner because the feeling of them clench around him must cause his whole body to feel like its being milked.

》Throne sex is a must for Arthur as well. Either getting off by choking on his dick in the throne room, or by riding him on the throne whilst no one else is there. Its a power move for Arthur, finding himself wanting someone to walk in. Even if its a poor servant, he's going to feel amazing.

》"Yeah, you like that? Bouncing on my royal cock? Hm? Say it~" 》He will start training his partner to please him the right way. It starts by him slowly sticking his fingers in his lover's mouth to train their gag reflex. Arthur does not care what kind of gag reflex his partner has, he is going to be fucking his hips into his lover's mouth if he feels like he wants to release. He chases after the feeling, finally accomplishing what he wants at the end.

》He will first fuck your throat with his fingers before you are allowed to suck his royal dick. It's a privilege...Earn it.

》ANYWAY YEAH DADDY CHAOS DOES DO A LOT OF GOOD <3

》I HAVE A LOT MORE TO SAY BUT THATS IT

𝕌𝕡 ℕ𝕖𝕩𝕥: ℤ𝕖𝕝𝕕𝕣𝕚𝕤 ℕ𝕊𝔽𝕎 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤

❥ Fic Masterlist!

-> ——— <-

Drabbles

“Surprise Visit with a Side of, ah, Flour.” [Wally Darling x GN!Shy!Reader // Established Romantic Relationship]

“Slumbern’t Party!” [Wally Darling x GN!Insomniac!Reader // Pre-established unconfessed (romantic) Crushes]

“Late Night Shenanigans…” [Wally Darling x GN!Astronomer!Reader // Relationship can be interpreted by Reader]

Headcanons

“Unexpected Visitor!” [Wally Darling x GN!Reader (DHMIS Yellow Guy pays a visit!) // Relationship with Wally is up to interpretation, but pre-establish friends at least]

“Catastrophic Cacophony” [Wally Darling x GN!Reader who’s sensitive to Loud Sounds // Relationship can be interpreted by Reader]

“Wally Darling Love Language Rambling” [No assigned Reader // Can be interpreted by Reader]

“Felt Fingers” [ Welcome Home Cast x Reader // Platonic Relationships ]

-> ——— <-

This is absolutely prone to being updated! As could likely be expected with a masterlist, haha!!

Last updated April 4th, 2023

~ For you to access all works easily! ~

📔 Oneshots 📔

• Just your heartbeat (Arthur x Doctor!AU femReader) • Like a date? (Arthur x MageApprentice!AU femReader)

• Surprise! (Arthur x femReader) • One wish (King of Chaos Arthur x femReader)

• An unexpected encounter in the night (Vampire!AU King of Chaos Arthur x femReader)

📝 Small scenarios 📝

• Arthur Pendragon cuddling with his S/O • Arthur Pendragon with his S/O sitting on his lap • Arthur Pendragon finding his S/O unconscious

• King of Chaos Arthur laying in bed with his S/O

🧡 Arthur headcanons 🧡

• Arthur and Escanor interactions headcanons • Arthur Pendragon cuddling headcanons • Arthur Pendragon anxious headcanons • Arthur Pendragon using Chaos • Merlin's mother instincts with Arthur • Arthur Pendragon as a father • Arthur Pendragon with a doting S/O • Arthur Pendragon with a strong S/O • Arthur Pendragon with a S/O who gives him handmade bouquets of flowers • Arthur Pendragon taking his S/O to a ballroom dance • Arthur Pendragon dating headcanons • Arthur Pendragon with a shy S/O who won't ask for hugs straightforward • Arthur Pendragon with a S/O who controls the wind • Arthur Pendragon after the Cath incident • Arthur Pendragon with an equally energetic S/O • Arthur Pendragon reacting to his S/O wearing his clothes • Soft mornings with Arthur Pendragon • Arthur Pendragon and his S/O being soft together • Random Arthur Pendragon fluff headcanons • Arthur Pendragon with a S/O who is a blacksmith • Arthur Pendragon with a sick S/O • Arthur Pendragon having a crush on Merlin's student • King of Chaos Arthur reacting to his S/O joining Percival • Jealous King of Chaos / Arthur Pendragon headcanons • Arthur Pendragon with a S/O who lost a family member • King of Chaos / Arthur Pendragon reacting to his S/O being injured • Arthur Pendragon and his S/O comforting each other • Arthur Pendragon comforting his S/O during an anxiety attack

• Arthur Pendragon reacting to Kay flirting with his crush

• Arthur Pendragon having fun in the castle's garden

• High school Au!: Student council president Arthur and his close friends

• Arthur Pendragon as a stepfather

🦁 Escanor headcanons 🦁

• Arthur and Escanor interactions headcanons

🔮 Merlin headcanons 🔮

• Merlin's mother instincts with Arthur

✨ General headcanons ✨

• NNT characters in a pillow fight

Hello! First and foremost BLESS you for all your SFW JJK content, everybody seems to be on the NSFW train which is fine but some of us just want to read about hand holding or getting together 😭

If you’re up for it may I please request a Choso/reader where the two of them fall in love because of Yuji? Like over protective big brother x over protective older friend. I know it’s kind of a weird request, but I’m really interested in how that dynamic could play out. If this ask doesn’t vibe then don’t worry about it!!! If it does vibe then thank you for so much for considering my request!!!

it's the little things c. kamo

A/N: anon i apologize this took literal months but i am here to feed the sfw jjk fans bc jolly gee it's an nsfw minefield out there! i'm writing this while running a high fever so im sorry if this isn't great. PROMPT: yuji meets a new friend, choso can't help falling in love. WARNINGS: none WORD COUNT: 1.1k

When Choso first met you, it was at the movie theater. What was supposed to have been some quality time spent with his brother, going and watching the new worm movie (or something, Choso couldn’t really follow the plot when Yuji excitedly recanted it to him), got unexpectedly derailed the moment he ran into you.

He supposes he should be happy that his brother can make friends so easily, that a stranger can turn into a new movie buff friend just because they were wearing some exclusive “merch shirt” (Choso still wasn’t sure what it meant for clothes to be exclusive meant). But in this moment, on this weekend that was supposed to be about spending time with his older brother, Choso wasn’t exactly thrilled to see Yuji’s attention get taken so easily by some random movie fan who was closer to his age than to Yuji’s.

His distaste for you only grew when his brother started inviting you to their sacred movie nights. Choso admits, as important as film is to his brother, he has a hard time keeping up with the new movie trends, never have even cared about movies before being reunited with Yuji. Their movie nights were chances to bond, a chance for Yuji to let his older brother into his own little world

But now you were here, the two of you talking for hours about all the fun little facts you both knew about whatever movie you had just watched. Just two peas in a pod you both were, and although Choso tried his hardest to feel bad about his bitter feelings, he couldn’t find it in himself to do so.

At least, not until Choso first interacted with you without Yuji. You had always been kind to him, not that he returned the gesture. Bringing snacks enough for the three of them, finding out what his favorite drink was from Yuji so that you were sure to get something he liked, always making sure you weren’t stealing too much of the blankets and that you could give him one if he was cold. They were little things, inconsequential things, but acts of kindness nonetheless.

It was during this first Yuji-free interaction that he first felt the distaste for you melt away. Honestly, Choso hadn’t realized you were still at their apartment, with Yuji passed out on the couch after the movie he assumed you had gone straight home, much like you usually do. He wasn’t expecting you to be in the kitchen, wearing his apron (not that you knew), cleaning assortment of dishes that had accumulated over the evening.

Choso could tell you didn’t expect to see him, that you had expected him to be asleep as much as he expected you to have gone home. But instead of greeting him, of explaining what you were still doing in their apartment, all he was met with was you, holding a newly washed baking bowl, softly uttering, “Where should this go?”

You had always been kind to him. With those little things, those inconsequential things. His favorite snacks, his favorite drinks, making sure he was comfortable during the movie. But this, this simple question of where they keep their baking bowls, tiptoed over a line of intimacy that he hadn’t expected you to try and cross.

When Choso answered you, gruff voice responding “Here, I’ll take them,” he put the dish away knowing that you were watching him, slowly learning how they organized their kitchen. It was an intimate thing, knowing how to get around someone else’s kitchen.

The next time you ran into Choso without Yuji was at the grocery store. He had admittadly seen, and ignored, you before he heard you calling out his name. When he turned towards the noise, though, your sudden proximity caught him off guard. “Could you please buy these for me?” A pack of eggs was in one of your hands, the other pointing to a one per customer rule sales sign.

You hadn’t even promised to pay him back before Choso was sighing, relenting to your request almost immediately.

It was another oddly intimate thing to do, especially with someone who was just friends with your brother. Choso found himself drawn to the way you chose what fruit to buy, how you picked brands and couldn’t follow a list even though you had it perfectly written down. He found himself chiding you when you’d have to fumble the little slip of paper out of your pocket every couple of minutes, though there was no bite in his actions as he took it from your hand to hold for you instead.

“We’ll be here all day if you keep doing that,” was his excuse for his actions, “I have other things going on today that involve not being at the store with you.” But, he didn’t and he knew that if it took you all day to shop, he would be there with you all day. Maybe it was his way of thanks for you cleaning the kitchen the other night. Yeah, that was it. This was his way of thanking you for all the little acts of kindness you had shown him since they day you met.

It certainly wasn’t because he was enjoying the time spent with you.

As time went on, little things would happen that kept bringing you two closer together. Yuji stopped always sitting in the middle of the couch during movies, accidentally bumping you or Choso into each other as he sat down on an outer cushion instead. You would come over before movies to bake brownies, inevitably needing Choso’s help to make up for Yuji’s complete incompetence with baking.

Choso isn’t sure what specifically started it, but before he realized it he was laughing with you, smiling when he saw you, looking forward to movie nights. It wasn’t until he found himself wishing he could watch a movie just you two that he realized his feelings had developed to something more than he ever thought it would be.

He wouldn’t ever dream of saying anything, not wanting to risk your friendship with Yuji over pursuing something more with him, until his younger brother sat him down one day and pestered him about asking you out. “It’s clear you’re in love with them,” Itadori comments, popping a chip in his mouth as he picks out a movie for tonight, “so why don’t you go ahead and ask them out already?”

Choso made sure to help you clean the dishes that night, asking you out in the quiet dark of night, feeling as though he was on cloud nine when you said yes.

Don't you just love the duality of Aizawa's scarf?

Some nights, he'll wrap the two of you up in it so that you're snuggled all warm and cozy together. He'll nuzzle his nose to yours, cupping your cheek tenderly, whispering words of affirmations to you. I love you. You're safe with me. I trust you with all my life.

Other nights, he'll bind your wrists with it, pinning them above your head so that he can fuck the ever living daylights out of you. He'll have you in a mating press, your ankles propped on his shoulders, knees pushed towards your chest, just pounding his thick cock in and out of you like there's no tomorrow. It's only after you orgasm three times that he'll finally unravel, his scarf loosening so that he can lace his fingers with yours, pumping his cum inside you.